Page 30 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

"And do you think the prophet Elijah walks in every
time you open a door? A goy zugt a vertl, there's a fool
in every house." The woman was dressed in a dark skirt
covered with a smudged apron, an embroidered blouse
with the sleeves rolled up, and a blue kerchief on her
head. Her bare arms were dusted with flour. Standing
at a low table near a sink, she was pounding bread
dough.
Hannah was stunned. It was as if she'd suddenly been
transported to a movie set. The illusion was so com-
plete, she couldn't even find an answer. And then the
words the woman had spoken came to her: a goy zugt
a vertl. . . It was a Yiddish phrase her grandfather
.
used all the time and which she'd never understood
before. Yet now it was as clear as if she could speak
the language herself. A goy zugt a vertl meant "As the
peasant says . . "
.
"So, Chaya, is Shmuel coming or not?" The woman
did not look up from the dough as she spoke but con-
tinued to beat it with a steady, hypnotic rhythm.
Hannah looked out the door again, as if it could offer
her some clue. Since she'd opened one door and entered
this daydream, perhaps going through another would
bring her home again. It was worth a try. Taking a step
forward, she saw that the man crossing the field was
much closer now. She could make him out clearly. He
had a thick black beard and a full head of black hair
topped with a cap. His shirt was full-sleeved and the
loose-fitting trousers were pushed into the tops of high
leather boots. What Rosemary would give for such boots,
she thought. The man was no longer singing but was

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