The thing about The Devil’s Arithmetic is that up until chapter eleven, the reader, like Hannah (the main character), is experiencing the journey of Jewish people from their villages and home places in train boxcars—eventually landing them at concentration camps.

Until chapter eleven, the story is about the journey—and I know where they’re going because I know what the Holocaust is. And so does the main character because she’s a time traveler. But the people in the story don’t know—just like in real life. It’s eerie and you can tell something terrible is about to happen, but at first, it’s just … normal.

Jane Yolen sure knows how to write a book.

Today is the day we read chapter eleven. Of course I’ve already read it, and so have Marci and Denis and Hoa. Aaron is the only one in our group who probably hasn’t.

I pull out my uncensored copy of the book and start reading.

The horrible shower scene unfolds and Aaron doesn’t say anything about his censored book until he sees my page because I put my book, open, flat on the table. Yes, on purpose. Of course on purpose.

“Hey,” Aaron says. “How come my book has that part blacked out?”

“What?” I say.

“Let me see.” He reaches over and grabs the book. I grab it back. He asks, “What page is that?”

“Ninety-three,” I answer. I put the book down again, with my hand on it to keep it open.

“Someone crossed out a bunch of words on my copy,” he says.

“Mine too,” Marci says.

“Same,” Denis adds.

Hoa nods.

“How come you got a copy without it?” Aaron asks me.

“I bought this one myself.”

“Huh. Why?”

“Because if they’re censoring books, what else are they going to hide from me, right? What lies can they be telling me, you know?”

Aaron nods and squints at me. “Are you messing with me?”

Marci and Denis show their censored books.

“Well, what’s it say?”

Marci smiles at me, then turns to Aaron. “You’re not going to believe it,” she says. “But Ms. Sett censored it because she thought boys—like you guys—would be uncomfortable and get all weird about it.”

“Imagine,” I say, “uncomfortable during that scene! As if it’s not already so terrifying.”

“But what’s it say?” Aaron asks.

“It says hands over her breasts,” Hoa says in a quiet, respectful voice.

Aaron frowns. No giggles in sight. He looks at me and I give him my book so he can read it. He gives the book back to me. “That’s just wrong.”

“We know,” Marci says.

“What can we do about it?” Denis says. “We have to do what they tell us, right? I mean, rules are rules.”

I give him a look like we’re going too far.

We sit quietly for a few moments. Hoa goes back to reading her book. Marci does, too. Denis follows and I go to pick up my book. Aaron says, “Where’d you get that copy?”

“Tad’s.”

“Was it expensive?”

“Four bucks used. They have new ones for eight,” I say, then go back to reading like censorship is no big deal. Aaron mutters under his breath a few times about it. He’s still frowning.

“You okay, Aaron?” I ask.

“I just don’t like people telling me what to do. It’s a free country, right? This is covered in the constitution, I bet.”

“First amendment,” Marci says. “It’s kinda the most important thing.”

“Huh,” Aaron says.

Hoa says, “If you ask me, the word made the person who crossed it out more uncomfortable than it makes us.”

“And she even has breasts!” I say.

As if she can sense our topic of conversation, Ms. Sett turns our way and says, “Mac? Marci? Why is there talking and not reading?”

“Sorry,” I say.

She gets up and approaches us.

She pulls a spare chair from another pod and sits on it. “What chapter are you on? Last I checked your worksheets, Hannah and the family were still on the train,” she says.

“We just got to chapter eleven,” I say.

“The showers,” Marci says.

“Oh,” Ms. Sett says. “That’s a tough scene. Today’s worksheet has a space on it to talk about how it makes you feel. Make sure to really write your feelings down there.”

What occurs to me right then is that my feelings about this scene are horror, sadness, and shock, but because she made the scene about her own censorship rather than the content of the book, I feel distant because I was more curious about the black rectangle than I was paying attention to the book. It makes me even more determined to fight the whole thing.

“I feel angry,” Aaron says, “that someone thought they could censor my copy of the book. Like I’m too dumb to read the words that are meant to be here.” He looks super angry, too.

Ms. Sett says as she stands, “Just write it down on the worksheet!”

“Huh,” Aaron says.

“Is there an issue, Mr. James?” Ms. Sett asks, hand on her hip.

“Actually, yeah, there is,” Aaron says. “I think this is un-American and wrong. I think my right to read the words here are covered by the first amendment or another part of the constitution. And I think this is tyranny. Like—don’t tread on me, okay?”

“I’m sure no one was trying to tread on you,” Ms. Sett says.

“Yeah, well, whoever did this is going to have to hear from my dad. He’s real into freedom and so am I.”

Ms. Sett walks to her desk and sits down behind it and barely hides the smirk on her face. She still thinks this is nothing.

I hope it works. It had better work.