The Girl in the Torch by Robert Sharenow Page A

pulled her impatiently by the arm and they continued their trek.
    As they walked east, a massive stone tower appeared in the distance, topped with an American flag. Sarah gasped at the sight of it, thinking it must be the top of a huge castle or military fortress. Moving closer, she saw that there were actually two massive towers connected by a web of steel cables and that the whole thing was actually a bridge stretching over a wide river. As the full bridge came into view, she stopped in her tracks to admire it.Sarah had seen the bridge from the island but hadn’t understood how big it really was. It made the statue of the Lady seem small by comparison. Sarah’s eyes widened as she noticed the scores of people and wagons crossing back and forth.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Maryk said. “It’s just the Brooklyn Bridge.”
    â€œHow does the road not fall into the water with all the horses and wagons riding on it?”
    â€œDo I look like an engineer? Come on. We’re not too far now.”
    They continued walking uptown, passing City Hall and other large and impressive stone buildings.
    Eventually they came to a series of streets that were more densely crowded with pedestrians and pushcarts. Nearly every person they passed had black hair, narrow eyes, and light beige skin. Many were dressed in strange clothes: men in plain blue, black, or gray tunics with ties instead of buttons, and a small handful of women in robes and plain dresses in the same colors. Some of the men wore their hair in long braids. They all seemed to be speaking a language that wasn’t English. Sarah stopped in her tracks, afraid to continue. Maryk turned to her, exasperated.
    â€œWhat is it now?”
    â€œThis is still the United States?” Sarah asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut the people . . . are they Americans?”
    â€œMost of them are Chinese. You’ve heard of China, haven’t you?”
    â€œYes,” she said.
    â€œCan’t be afraid of horses or Chinamen if you expect to live in New York,” he said impatiently.
    He continued walking as she tentatively followed. She noticed that all the store signs were written in strange, unfamiliar letters, set against bold-colored backgrounds. Newsboys sold papers printed in the same alien characters. Pushcart vendors peddled exotic fruits and colorful trinkets. Some even had small coal stoves where men prepared food cooked in hot oil.
    Sarah breathed deeply to catch the enticing aroma of the food, but almost as soon as she’d managed to capture a good smell, her nose would be assaulted by an equally powerful stench as they passed a pile of garbage or an open fish market where an old man cleaned and gutted the daily catch on the curb. They walked by butcher shops whose windows were festooned with whole plucked ducks and geese and enormous pig carcasses alongside cages tightly packed with live chickens. Sarah couldn’t believe the sharp contrast in the sights, smells, and people she had encountered in the course of a few blocks.
    Maryk turned onto a narrow side street and stopped in front of a squat, gray six-floor apartment building that seemed to sag in the middle. A steep set of cracked concrete stairs led up to the entry door with a wooden sign attached to the outside wall by the front window. The sign had large Chinese characters painted against a black backdrop along with small English letters at the bottom reading ROOMS TO LET .
    Maryk ascended the stairs, beckoning Sarah to follow.
    Again the girl paused, her inner warning bells telling her that this might be her last opportunity to escape from Maryk.
    Before she had time to consider which way she should run, the front door of the apartment building swung open and a tiny old Chinese woman emerged, yelling at Maryk in a high-pitched, rapid-fire mix of Chinese and broken English. The woman had a small, angry face and shiny gray hair pulled back in a tight bun, and her skinny