It was only Mama’s voice in my head whispering: Slow down. Think about what you’re saying
“Elka?”
The voice broke into my dream. I opened my eyes to the strange bedroom with the dark, heavy furniture and for a moment I had no idea where I was. Then it all came back to me — the train ride, the wagon, the room. I was in Bubbe’s apartment.
“Elka?” The door creaked open just a bit, and now the voice came through a little louder. Bubbe.
“Hmmm?” I mumbled sleepily, rolling over to see if anyone had prepared negel vasser at the side of my bed.
“I’m up, Bubbe,” I added. There was no negel vasser near my bed. I scanned the room. There. In the corner on the little side table was a white bowl and matching porcelain cup.
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