Page 55 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

ning to wonder herself whether she was Hannah and
Chaya was the dream or if she was Chaya and Hannah
was some kind of mishigaas, some craziness in her mind
from the sickness. Yet there were all those memories—
of house and school and Seder; of Mother and Father
and Aaron and Aunt Eva and the rest. She couldn't
have made them all up. Unless she was a genius. Or
crazy. Or both.
She had no choice. "In Lublin," she began, thinking
of New Rochelle, "I live in a house that has eight rooms
and the toilets are inside the house. One upstairs and
one downstairs."
"In the house?" Rachel let it out in a single breath.
"Imagine," said Yente, "your parents must have been
fabulously wealthy. Richer than Yitzchak the butcher.
As rich, almost, as the rendar himself."
"The rendar's house has twelve rooms," Rachel said.
"Thirteen," Yente corrected. "My mother's sister is
his housekeeper." Her sharp nosed twitched as she talked.
"Your mother's sister cannot count," said Rachel.
"She thinks there are thirteen eggs in a dozen."
"She thinks thereare nine days of Chanukah," added
Shifre.
"She thinks there are five fingers on a hand," Esther
put in dreamily.
"Idiot, there are five fingers on a hand," Rachel said
to Esther.
"I know that."
"Never mind her," Rachel confided to Hannah. "She
never understands a joke. Now, Chaya, tell us more."
"More," Hannah said, trying to think what might

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