If she says it with enough enthusiasm, they may be able to pretend that they are off on a fairytale journey
T
he three girls are gathered in Becca’s cabin, cardboard suitcases packed, leather satchels bulging. All morning, they’ve been taking turns watching their possessions, while the other two go up to the deck and watch the land growing closer.
Freidl and Raizel will be staying in Istanbul, for now at least. Becca is traveling on to Izmir. They do not even have addresses to exchange.
Freidl sits on the bed, hugging her knees, rocking slightly back and forth. “If I write to my parents and ask them to forward the letter to your parents, then they can send it to you, and that way we can find out our addresses.”
She looks so hopeful. She has lost weight on the voyage, as if there was any more to lose, and Becca had found herself fretting about the girl, as if she were her little sister. Letter writing. When she was in Paris, she wrote home every week. It was part of the requirements. The director wanted to instill them with a feeling of respect, derech eretz, he had always preached in his French-Hebrew accent.
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