Jacob and the Mandolin Adventure by Anne Dublin

Author:Anne Dublin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Second Story Press
Published: 2021-01-26T17:58:19+00:00

Chapter 17

The night after Nathan was moved to the infirmary, Jacob dreamed he saw his mother, her soft brown eyes and gentle smile beckoning him to come closer.

“Is it you, Mama?”

His mother did not say a word.

Jacob took one step toward her, then another, then still one more.

Mama held out her arms to Jacob. Her touch was like the fluttering of a butterfly on his cheek. Slowly, Mama enfolded him in the cocoon of her arms. But soon she began to fade away, like wisps of fog in the sunlight. As she disappeared, she said, “Never forget us.”

Jacob woke up. Mama was gone.

He scrambled out of bed. The cabin was filled with dim shadows and the half-light of early dawn. He reached under the bunk bed and groped for his suitcase.

Quietly, so as not to awaken Ezra, he pulled the suitcase out, untied the rope, and opened the lid. He searched in the satin pocket on the inside of the lid, found the brown envelope, and undid the flap. He stood up and walked toward the porthole.

From the envelope, he pulled out a small black and white photo. Papa stood behind Mama, his hand resting on her shoulder. Both of them were dressed in their best clothes. They stared at the camera, eyes wide open and hopeful. They looked so young!

He pulled out another photo—this one of Mama and Papa looking a little older, with Jacob held between them. How old had he been then? Six weeks? Three months? He couldn’t tell. He turned the photo over. Of course, he knew there was no date, but he always searched for one.

A sob caught in his throat. Mama and Papa didn’t seem real to him anymore. His memories of them were fading like these yellowing photos. Mama and Papa were buried in the Jewish cemetery in Mezritsh. Would he ever go back there to lay a stone on their graves?

And now, Nathan was so sick, he might die, too. Should I have told Mr. Greenblatt or Mr. Podoliak about Nathan? Jacob wondered. Should I have gone for help earlier? Looked for a doctor? He felt as if he were choking with guilt.

Jacob brushed the tears from his eyes with his pajama sleeve, put the photos back in the envelope, the envelope back into the suitcase, closed the lid, and shoved the suitcase back under the bed.

He glanced at Ezra, who was snoring softly on the upper bunk. He picked up his mandolin and he began to pluck the strings, picking out the melody of songs the orchestra had been practicing. He hummed softly to himself. What is it about the mandolin that makes me want to smile and cry at the same time?

Ezra sat up and yawned. “Why are you up so early? And what are you playing?”

Jacob placed the mandolin in its case. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Ezra stretched. “Me, I slept like a log!” He climbed down from his bunk and walked toward the door. “Why don’t we early birds get ready? Then we can go visit Nathan before breakfast.

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