introduce Helga, who by the way has retreated toward the playground fence, as though she wasnât even the reason for the fray. Which has kept me tracking Helga like a nervous puppy dog, while keeping one eye trained on Sibby.
Suppose Danny took it into his head to punch Sibby back. I couldnât let her fight Helgaâs battle alone because, even though she started the fight, Helga is my responsibility. So it isnât until Danny and his gang have disappeared through the playground gate that I am able to bring them together and say, âSybil this is Helga, Helga this is Sybil.â
Sybil enthusiastically grabs both of Helgaâs hands, which have been hanging limply at her side. âIâm so glad to meet you after hearing so much about you from Izzie. Well, um, a lot anyway. Gosh, what you must think of us here in America. First that stupid Mr. Lockhart puts you in seventh grade and then that ape, Danny, yells out those disgusting words in German.â
â Ach , itâs no matter. I am happy to meet you, too.â
âWhat do you mean itâs no matter?â Sibby asks in a peppery tone. âIt certainly does matter. Both things matter...a lot. Youâve got to learn that here in the U.S. we fight for our rights. And thereâs no Gestapo, no secret police, no marching Storm Troopers to shut us up.â
Helga has withdrawn one of her hands to brush a long lock of hair from her cheek. âI think it is better that we do not speak of these things.â
Sibby instantly frees Helgaâs other hand, and we all head toward home in an embarrassed silence. Sibby and I only talk to point out various landmarks so that Helga can find her way without us if she has to. I canât imagine that they will keep her in seventh grade at Singleton for more than a few weeks. Helga is fourteen and she should be in ninth grade.
At the apartment, my mother is waiting impatiently for Helga so that they can set off for the hospital to visit Mrs. F. who is still pretty weak following her operation, which is said to have lasted six hours.
As soon as theyâre gone, Iâm down at Sibbyâs, where Mrs. Simon has just come off the early shift of her new job at the shipyard. She is wearing overalls, a bandana that covers her hair, and heavy menâs work shoes. Mrs. Simon looks tired and her voice is hoarse from yelling, she says, over the noise from the machinery. But she stillsets out milk and gingersnaps for Sibby and me, and sits down at the table with us, her head in her arms.
âSo,â I say to Sibby. âdo you see what I mean about Helga? Sheâs very hard to talk to. If you say one wrong thing she shuts up like a clam. And you never know what thatâs going to be until you say it. Then itâs too late.â
Sibby sips her milk, crunches on her gingersnaps, and nods. âSomething terrible happened to her. You have to find out what it is, Isabel.â
âMe? All I ever do is get into trouble over her. Donât ask me to interfere.â
Mrs. Simon lifts her head from the table. âAll right. Tell me what happened.â
We give her a rundown of the events at school this afternoon and the way Helga reacted when Sibby tried to stand up for her. âShe refused to even talk about it,â I add. âDid she want to be put in seventh grade with a lot of twelve-year-olds when she should be in ninth? Was it okay with her that stupid Danny Brill yelled out Sieg Heil at her? Itâs almost as though she likes being insulted. Thatâs crazy.â
âLet me ask you,â says Mrs. Simon, âwhat do you know about Helgaâs family in Germany? Are her parents still there? Does she have sisters and brothers?â
âTwo sisters, I think. And I know she has letters, written in German...â I stop myself short. I havenât told anybody about that morning at Moskinâs whenHelga went on a hike and I snooped around among her