A House of Tailors by Patricia Reilly Giff

Author:Patricia Reilly Giff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780375890550
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2004-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

fifteen

I saw the health department wagon in front of our place, the two men with their dark beards knocking on someone’s door, just as Johann had said. I hurried past them, but one called after me. “Say hello to the little girl who waves at herself.”

He meant Maria, I realized, but I was too afraid to answer. I took the stairs as quickly as I could, happy to see the apartment door. The Uncle was waiting in the hallway, walking back and forth.

“Dina,” he said, sounding excited. “You’re to come with me now, to Mrs. Koch.”

My eyes opened wide. I never wanted to see Mrs. Koch or her beautiful house again. I felt my face flush every time I thought of that morning with her breakfast and the hats. But the Uncle was hurrying me out the door. I went past the kitchen first, seeing a plate of cakes on the table, and took one to nibble on as we went down the stairs.

“Does she ever stop eating?” the Uncle muttered to himself, taking enormous steps. “Mrs. Koch is waiting. Waiting for you.”

Downstairs he stopped at the door, looking at me, shaking his head. “The cake.”

I brushed the crumbs off my mouth and straightened my old hat.

“Your collar, not the cleanest.”

I stopped there in the street, next to the building, and quickly unbuttoned the collar, turning it inside out. “What else?” I asked.

“I think that’s all.”

“What does she want, anyway?” I asked.

“Mrs. Koch does not tell me, and I do not ask,” he said. “I take care of her horses, her barn, her garden. And that’s enough.”

Ten minutes later we were there, going up those steps, my hand on the railing, my pulse ticking somewhere in my throat. We stopped in Aunt Ida’s kitchen while she went upstairs to knock on the parlor door to tell Mrs. Koch I was there.

The Uncle was already out the back door on his way to the garden when he turned. “Say yes, say no, and otherwise, don’t talk,” he said.

“You’re making me nervous,” I said.

“You don’t know what it is to be nervous,” he told me, but he was smiling just a little.

I tried to smile, too. “You’re right.”

“For once,” he said, closing the door in back of him.

I didn’t really have time to be nervous. Aunt Ida came bustling back, tugging at my skirt, straightening my hat, my sleeves. “You look fine. Go into the parlor.”

“Where . . .”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take you, or you’ll end up in a closet somewhere.”

Upstairs, Aunt Ida reached out to knock, and then she was gone.

Mrs. Koch was waiting for me. I caught my breath. Dangling from her fingers was my hat. My pink hat with the droopy brim.

I looked from the hat to her face. I hadn’t remembered what she looked like. It had only been a second or two from the time she screamed to the time Aunt Ida had rushed me out of there.

Mrs. Koch had a friendly face, with large dark eyes, and she wore a white lace morning cap over her faded red hair.

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