Page 81 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

loose, she began to cry and could not be comforted.
"Quickly, quickly," the soldiers called, gesturing with
their guns. Rounding up the villagers, they herded them
toward the trains.
There were piles of things spread out along the tracks,
as if they had been dropped by a fleeing army. Hannah
saw suitcases and carpetbags, some carefully packed
and some with their contents spilling out. Dresses and
shawls were scattered around, and there was a bag of
what looked like medicines, several dozen jewelry cases,
a sackful of milk powder, even a small chest of baby
toys.
"That is Grandma's satchel," Fayge shrieked, point-
ing to a tapestry bag with wooden handles. "Papa, Papa,
they have left Grandma's things here. What will she
use in the resettlement camp?"
Before the rabbi could answer, Hannah had turned
to Gitl. "I know . . ."
"Do not say a word, child," Gitl pleaded. "Not a
word."
More and more, the villagers began to recognize bas-
kets and bags belonging to their families. But they were
not allowed to stop by the piles, simply pushed closer
to the boxcars. When the last of them was out of the
trucks, the soldiers made a great circle around them.
A high-ranking officer—but not the colonel who had
spoken to them before—stepped into the circle with
them. They looked to him and he raised his" hand for
silence.
"Now, Jews, listen. Do what you are told and no one
will be hurt. All I ask is your cooperation." His voice

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