Page 108 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

only the melody, only the soothing rhythm. The child,
Tzipporah, J197242, lay silent in her arms.

The barracks they were assigned had a long brick oven
along one end and deep trenches on the sides in which '
sleeping shelves were placed, like triple bunk beds, at
impossibly narrow intervals. Privies were outside.
Hannah helped Tzipporah onto one of the low shelves.
There were neither blankets nor pillows, but the child
did not complain. She curled into a fetal position and
lay still, her thumb back in her mouth.
"I will see if there is any food," Hannah whispered
to her. "And socks. And shoes. I will see if there are
blankets. Or pillows. You sleep." When she stood up,
she saw Gitl helping Fayge onto another shelf, about
halfway down the building. She knew it was Fayge be-
cause, even with her hair shorn, her face the color of
an old book, and wearing a shapeless brown print dress,
Fayge had an unearthly beauty. But her eyes were
strangely blank; she moved where Gitl pushed her.
Gitl looked up and stared at Hannah. Putting her
hands on her hips, barely covering the garish flowers
on the red print dress, she smiled mockingly. "So?"
"So!" Hannah whispered back. In that dark, cold
place it seemed a kind of affirmation. At that very mo-
ment, her stomach rumbled, horribly loud in the silence
of the barracks room. That, too, had the sound of life.
Gitl's head went back and she roared with laughter.
"How can you laugh?" Hannah asked, shocked.
"How can you not?" Gitl said. "Without laughter,

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