In My Father's House

Page 128

in my father's house/ 110 taking over for their dead mother. I remembered the ovens and Jews and how Grandmother had said prophecy was fulfilled. I shuddered and looked away. Suddenly I noticed that my mother was no longer standing beside me. I whirled, my heart pounding. I searched the faces and heads in the crowd, but couldn't see her anywhere. Tears began to well and stick in my throat. Then I saw a braid of chestnut. It turned, one of my father's patients, the rich woman who sent us boxes of used clothing. I scanned the crowd again, tears coming closer. Another chestnut bun. A pudgy hand adjusted a hairpin. Not my mother's. My eye caught by the flash of pink silk, I stood on tiptoe, trying to see beyond the blur of black suits. The jeweled throat was not my mother's. At last I saw her across the room, her pink-and-grey silk back turned. She was talking to my uncle, her brunette crown dipping as she spoke. I ran, my heart filled with warmth and relief, dodging legs. "Mama...Mama...Mama...." I insisted until she turned. My mind flashed and sputtered. It was Aunt Helga smiling triumphantly down at me- "I'm not your mother!" she declared. She was laughing at me. "Where...where is she?" I was afraid I would be sick before I could whisper the words. "I don't know. I saw her awhile ago, but she's gone now."