Page 31 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

whistling a vaguely familiar song. When she realized it
was "Dayenu," she laughed.
"Oh, I get it," she muttered, though she didn't really.
But she decided in that instant to play along. Whether
it was a dream or an elaborate game, she'd show them
all she was a good sport. It was certainly better than
Grandpa Will's deadly dull Seder lessons. "He's com-
ing," she said, turning back to the woman.
"Good. Set the table. And be sure to use the Sabbath
cloth. This is a special occasion, after all. It's not every
day my baby brother is to be married the next morn-
ing." She wiped her hands on the apron. "Well, Chaya,
move!"
Chaya. But that's my Hebrew name, Hannah thought.
The one I was given to honor Aunt Eva's dead friend.
Weird. She wondered how the woman knew that name,
then laughed under her breath at her own foolishness.
Of course the woman knew. She was part of this crazy
game. This crazy dream. But even as she thought that,
Hannah felt a panic pressure in her chest. Where was
she? And where were her parents and Aaron and Aunt
Eva and the others? She stared at the door again as if
it held the answer.
"Why are you standing there looking like a Chelm
fool, Chaya? The cloth, child. I swear, the fever that
carried your poor parents off—may they rest in peace—
has done you more damage than we thought. It was a
miracle you survived at all. And while that was surely
part of God's orderly plan, its meaning is beyond me.
Sometimes, child, you make me wonder."
Whatever it was the woman wondered never got said,

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