The Woman with the Blue Star, Pam Jenoff [highly recommended books txt] 📗

the Germans had been deterred by the rain or given up looking. The searching sounds were replaced with a rhythmic thundering, like marching boots as the rain teemed heavier. Outside the chamber, the pooling water began to run in a great stream. “Spring floods,” Bubbe said ominously.

I looked up to see the shadow that passed across Mama’s face. The notion was nearly as scary as the idea of the Germans looking for us. We always knew that heavy spring rains, when they finally came, were going to mean trouble. It had rained often the past few weeks and the river was swollen, the levees full. Whenever rain fell on the streets above, the sewer waters in the big tunnel would rise, pushing water into the narrower pipes and causing small waves to lick at the entrance to our chamber. Usually the rain stopped after a while and the waters receded.

But today it did not stop. Sheets of water fell above. I imagined a torrent of water pouring through the sewer grate where I went to look for Ella that morning and backing up in the pipes. Now that the Germans had ceased searching on the streets above, we unfolded ourselves from the place where we huddled. We tried to carry on with our day, Mama preparing a late lunch of reheated potato soup. The rain continued all day, and as evening fell, the water began to swirl at the entrance of the chamber. I fell asleep beside Mama and dreamed of the waters rising and carrying our plank bed away like a toy boat.

It was not entirely a dream, I discovered the next morning. “Sadie, wake up.” Mama roused me from sleep. The water was ankle-deep in the chamber now. We put on our sodden shoes, then collected our other belongings hurriedly and moved them to higher ground. Mama waded across the chamber to salvage our food stores. Across the chamber, I glimpsed Saul doing the same. I wanted to get his attention but could not. Water from the tunnel entered the chamber and began to fill it. Soon the swirling water around our ankles became a torrent, reaching my knees. As the water rose, everything around us began to float, jars and bottles and plates, resembling a bizarre underwater tea party.

“What will we do if it doesn’t stop?” I asked.

“It will stop,” Mama replied, not answering my question. She led me to the highest end of the chamber in an attempt to keep as much of us dry as possible. But it was futile. The rains continued to pound and the floodwater filled our living space like a giant bathtub. The water was soon past our midsections and our clothes were soaked through. It was as if we were swimming in a cold, filthy pool or lake that we could never leave.

I looked across the chamber at Saul, who was helping his grandmother reach a higher spot without slipping. His eyes caught mine and held. For a second, it seemed that he wanted to come to me as much as I did him. Then he turned back to focus on aiding his family once more. I wondered if we should have left the chamber to find higher ground. Of course, that was impossible now. As the swollen sewer river had risen, it would have eclipsed the thin ledge we always used to navigate its banks. If we dared try to go, we would surely be swept away. And the same high water and current that kept us from leaving prevented Pawel from coming here and rescuing us as well.

The water level neared my mouth dangerously. I lifted my head higher, struggling to breathe. My panic rose. In a few minutes, the water would be too deep to stand. I had always been like a frightened animal in the water; my limbs were clumsy and ineffective when I tried to swim. How would I possibly survive if we had to swim?

I reached up on the wall and found the makeshift shelf where we usually kept the bread. Clinging to the ledge, I raised myself so that I was a few feet higher, my head close to the roof of the chamber. That bought me a few minutes and some extra air. But it would not solve the problem if the water continued to rise.

I held my hand out to my mother, who was treading water now beside me, wanting to help her. She had always been an excellent swimmer, though, and even now with her extra girth, she seemed to bobble effortlessly on the surface. Across the chamber, I could see Saul, supporting his grandmother with one arm and his father with the other as they struggled to stay afloat.

The flood seemed to go on forever. My arms began to burn from clinging to the ledge. I couldn’t hold on forever and I had no chance if I had to swim. Finally, I let go, preparing to drown and let the water carry me to Papa. My mother caught me by the collar, holding me afloat. But my weight was too much and we both began to go under. I tried to shake her off, but she held fast, unwilling to let me go. Her blond hair fanned out about her like a halo. As the water rose, I inhaled, taking a deep breath, which I planned to hold as long as I could once my head submerged beneath the water.

Suddenly there was a mighty creak in the distance, and although the rain continued to pound just as steadily above, the water in the chamber seemed to slowly stop rising. “A levee,” someone said. “They must have opened another path for the water to flow.” I was too weary to process the good news or to care if the explanation was true. Surely it would take days, if not weeks, for the water to recede and I couldn’t possibly hold on for that long.

“Hang on,” I heard Mama say, but