Page 126 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

to go to the hospital. The Dark Angel goes there first.
You are lucky."
"Lucky!" Hannah muttered.
"Yes, lucky," Rivka said, sounding as if she were
beginning to lose patience. "We count our luck with a
different measure here in the camp."
Shifre stared silently at the shoes she held in her hand
but Hannah shook her head slowly over and over.
"Now tell me your names."
"Shifre."
Rivka nodded.
"Chaya," Hannah whispered, the name sounding
strange in her mouth, foreign. Then she bit her lip and,
remembering Rivka's explanation, held up her arm.
"And also / for Jew. And 1 for me, alone. I am very,
very much alone. And 9 is for . . . well, in English it
is pronounced 'nine,' which is like the German word
for no. No, I will not die here. Not now. Not in my
.
.
sleep like . . little . . little children."
"How do you know English?" Shifre asked. "Did
you learn it in your school in Lublin?"
"You went to school?" Rivka asked, a kind of awe
in her voice.
"No. Yes. I don't remember," Hannah said, sur-
prised at the whine in her voice.
Rivka put her hand out, touching Hannah gently on
the arm, stroking the number with two fingers, ever so
gently. "It happens sometimes. We forget because re-
membering is so painful. But memory will return, when
you are ready for it. Go on, Chaya—J19 . . ."
Hannah nodded. "J—1—9—7. Seven is for—for each

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