Page 40 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

"So—you could not sleep either." Shmuel's voice,
deep and rumbling, came from the dark behind her.
"Getting married is-the most frightening thing in the
world, I think. But surely my marriage is not what kept
you awake. Did you have another bad dream, Chaya?
I worry about you and your dreams. A girl's dreams,,
like her life, should be sweet and filled with honey."
She nodded slowly, then turned. She could see noth-
ing in the black room. As if sensing that, Shmuel came
over to stand by her side in the doorway. He was fully
dressed and smoking a pipe. The curls of smoke feath-
ered out into the open air, spreading themselves thinner
and thinner, until at last they were gone.
"Do you think it strange, little Chaya, that I--Shmuel
Abramowicz—with (an arm like a tree and, as Gitl says,
a head like a stone, should be afraid of getting mar-
ried?" He flexed his left arm at her and grinned, but
above the grin his eyes seemed troubled.
"Being married might be scary," Hannah agreed ten-
tatively.
"Being married does not bother me," Shmuel said.
"But getting married—that frightens me!"
Not sure she understood the difference, Hannah hes-
itated. "Maybe . . " She took a deep breath and hur-
.
ried on. "Maybe there's something everyone is afraid
of. With you it's getting married. With me it's shots."
"Shots?"
"Shots. You know. Needles?" She jabbed her right
finger into her left arm to demonstrate.
He smiled and nodded. "You were very sick. I un-
derstand."

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