I woke with a start, my heart thumping. Something was wrong. Before I had time to think, there was a tremendous boom! The whole room shuddered. Objects flew through the air. An alarm bell began to shriek. Seconds later, someone pounded on the door and shouted, “Get to your boat station! Now.”
What’s going on? Where am I? Nothing looked familiar. Then I spied my older brother asleep across from me. And I remembered. I was on an ocean liner—the SS Somerville—travelling to Halifax, Canada. And safety from the war.
I threw back the covers, jumped out of bed, and shook Peter. How could he sleep through all that?
“Wake up.” His eyes popped open. “We have to go,” I cried as I started pulling on my clothes over my pyjamas. “Something’s happened.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. But we have to get to our lifeboat. Quick! Get dressed.”
I grabbed my camera and Grandfather Avigdor’s gold pocket watch from the floor where they’d fallen, stuffed them in my coat pocket, and hurried from the room with Peter one step ahead. The alarm was even louder in the corridor, which was crowded with people making their way to the stairway and up to the deck. This wasn’t a drill. It was the real thing. The crew had warned us about German U-boats. Were we hit by a torpedo? My heart quickened.
When we got up top, there were people everywhere. But there was no sign of panic. Everyone was heading toward their boat station in an orderly fashion just as we’d been taught. Peter was still ahead of me. Where are Mama and Bibi? Papa had entrusted their care to me just before we set sail.
Then I saw them. Mama gripped my sister’s hand as she scanned the crowd, searching for Peter and me. She spotted Peter first. Then her eyes found mine. I felt her relief.
By the time I reached her side, two crew members were helping passengers into the lifeboat. The wind was biting. I looked out at the sea. The water was pitch black and rough. I turned back to the lifeboat. It seemed awfully small compared to the waves.
“I’m scared, Käfer,” Bibi said. Her dark hair, plaited tidily by day, blew wildly around her heart-shaped face. Her brown eyes were wide with fear. I took her hand and squeezed it. Bibi was eleven, a year older than I, but at that moment, I was her protector.
“Everything will be all right,” I assured her. “The crew will take care of us.” She smiled bravely.
I glanced at Mama, but she wasn’t listening. She looked stricken.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My jewels. I forgot them.”
But we need them to give us a new start in Canada. “Where are they, Mama?”
“In my wardrobe trunk.” Her voice trembled. “Oh, how could I have been so stupid?” she asked quietly, almost to herself.
I didn’t stop to think. I turned and ran.
“Käfer, no! Come back!” Mama cried out. “It doesn’t matter!”
I just kept running, darting through passengers still waiting for their turn to get into a lifeboat. When I got to the stairs, they were clear. I sped along the passageway to Mama’s stateroom. Mama’s trunk, a handsome leather wardrobe with three brass clasps, was still standing upright. But though the top and bottom clasps were unfastened, the centre one was locked shut and the key wasn’t in it. Where did you put it, Mama? Why didn’t I ask you before I raced off? The alarm rang on, a shrill reminder that I didn’t have much time.
I scanned the room. Everything had been knocked out of place when the torpedo struck. No key on the desk or either of the side tables. Not on the bureau top or the bed. I felt panic rise. What am I going to do? I can’t go back empty-handed. Papa needed those jewels to get money for his new aeroplane-parts business. But I was running out of places to look. The alarm still blaring, I was just about to give up and run back to the lifeboat when my eyes fell on Mama’s black evening bag. It was lying on the floor, peeking out from under the dressing table. Mama had been carrying it at dinner earlier. Let the key be inside, I prayed, as I unfastened the catch. I rifled through the contents. At first I thought it wasn’t there, but then I felt something caught in her handkerchief. It was the key! I sighed with relief, slipped it into the lock, and opened the door. Down one side, there were six drawers. Starting at the top, I quickly rummaged through one after another. Mama’s blue jewellery bags were in the drawer next to the bottom. I stuffed a bag in each of my coat pockets, and without a backward glance, I raced along the corridor and up the stairs.
The captain was at the door to the deck, his back to me, talking to the purser. He had to yell to be heard over the howling wind and the waves crashing against the hull. “I hope at least one of the ships in the convoy stops to pick up passengers,” he said. “Otherwise, I’m not sure if any of us will survive out in the Irish Sea tonight. It’s awfully rough.”
My heart pounding even harder now, I rushed past him, but the purser grabbed me. “Where have you been, young man?” he scolded in Dutch. He’d greeted us with a cheery “hallo” when we first came on board and teased me when he discovered I lived in The Hague, not Harlingen where he was from. “Which is your boat station?”
I pointed to where the lifeboat had been not even ten minutes earlier. But it was already being lowered into the sea.
“Run!” he cried. He dashed alongside me and called out, “Wait! Wait! There’s one more passenger.”
But the wind blew so hard, the crew didn’t hear him. They kept lowering the boat, which swayed dangerously back and forth. I looked down at it, suddenly paralyzed with fear. Then I saw Mama. She stared up at me and cried out my name. The expression on her face was one of pure torment. I’d only seen her look like that once before. When she learned her sister, my aunt Charlotte, has been sent to a concentration camp. There was only one thing to do.
I took a deep breath and jumped.