Page 23 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

"And when my sister Eva was thirteen, what she
would have given for a little glass of watered wine . . . ,"
Grandpa Will had begun. It was the same kind of ar-
gument he used for everything. He never had to finish
the sentence, for no one could withstand the promise
of guilt.
"All right, Poppy."
Grandpa Will had smiled, turning to Eva. "See, they
can't keep her a baby forever."
Babies, like Aaron, had to make do with grape juice.
Hannah had been grateful to her grandfather for that.
And she had discovered, with the very first toast, that
she liked the sweet, cloying taste of the wine, even
though it made her head buzz.
"Hannah!" Aaron tugged on her sleeve and his eyes
were full of mischief. "It's time."
"Time?" For a moment she thought he meant time
for the next toast, and then she realized he meant time
to steal the afikoman, the matzoh wrapped in the blue
embroidered cloth. Looking around the table, she saw
that the adults were all suddenly very busy talking to
one another. She remembered when, as the only child,
she'd been the one to take the afikoman; she'd thought
herself terribly clever when she found it under Grandpa
Will's chair. Of course, now she knew that he always
hid it there for easy discovery. She smiled at Aaron,
suddenly feeling very adult. "You go look for it. I'll
keep watch here." /
"Okay." He slipped from his chair and crawled around
to the head of the table. Then he leaped to his/feet,
holding the blue cloth and its crumbling contents high

16