The Doll with the Yellow Star Read online

  At Simone’s, the shutters are open. Claudine knows where her friend’s window is, and she glances up toward it, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. The window is empty though, and a lace curtain flutters weakly in the breeze. Downstairs, she sees Simone’s father standing in front of the door. She wants to wave but something stops her. It is the expression on his face—he is frowning. Can he see the yellow star from where he stands? Claudine looks down and hurries away.

  * * *

  Finally, everything is ready. Maman has the ticket and all the papers—passport, the letter from Aunt Adele—that Claudine needs. The small bag is packed. Claudine will make the journey with Mademoiselle LeBlanc and several other French children who are on their way to safety across the Atlantic. First they must go to the port at Le Havre. There they will wait—in hiding—until they are ready to board the ship. This is her last night at home with Maman and Papa for a long time. Tomorrow she will have to say good-bye to her pink-and-green room, the flower-filled garden behind the house. At least Violette can come along. She is somewhat comforted by the thought.

  In the morning, Maman doesn’t have to wake Claudine, who gets up when the sky is still dark. She has no appetite but eats a few bites anyway, if only to ease the worried look on Maman’s face. Maman has not eaten much either and soon moves the dishes aside. She sits down next to Claudine, who is holding Violette on her lap.

  “Here,” says Maman, pulling something out of her apron pocket. “I thought you would want to take this.” She gives Claudine a small photograph. There are Maman and Papa, holding hands and looking very happy. Maman wears a long white dress and grasps a bouquet. Papa wears a dark suit and elegant hat. Their wedding picture.

  Claudine feels the top of Violette’s head pressing against the underside of her chin as she studies the picture. She knows that Violette is studying it, too.

  “Look at it when you feel lonely,” Maman tells her. “And when you think about us, remember that Papa and I will be thinking about you. All the time.”

  Claudine wants to find a safe place to put the picture. Her own pocket is too easily opened; her valise seems too big. Then she has an idea. “I need scissors,” she tells her mother, and she goes to get a pair. Claudine carefully trims the photo down so that it is little more than the two smiling faces. She slips the tiny square she has made into the pocket of Violette’s pinafore and sews it shut. “Now I know it will be all right,” she says. And for a moment, she believes it.

  Crossing the Ocean

  The journey to America will take nearly three weeks. The ship cannot go directly to New York but must stop at several other destinations first. Claudine feels lonely just thinking about it.

  Once she is actually on board, it is hard not to be frightened, confused, and sad. The other children seem as bewildered as she is. When the sea is rough and choppy, they stay belowdecks, clutching their stomachs and calling for their mothers. Often they cry out from bad dreams in the night; Claudine can hear their plaintive voices, along with the soothing one of Mademoiselle LeBlanc as she tries to comfort them.

  During the day, Mademoiselle LeBlanc conducts lessons: history, geography, arithmetic, poetry, and writing. Claudine tries to pay attention. When she was in school in Paris, poetry was her favorite subject, and last year she won a beautiful ribbon for her excellence in memorization. She stood up on a stage in front of the whole school to recite a sonnet and receive her award. But here on board the ship, she finds it hard to concentrate on schoolwork of any kind. Instead, her mind wanders back to Paris. Where are her parents now? What are they doing? Have they kept their promise about her room? Did Papa remember to bring her bicycle into the cellar so it wouldn’t rust? And what about Odile and Simone? Have they found out she has left the country? Do they miss her?

  Claudine is very grateful to have Violette, for the doll makes her feel less alone. When the weather is good and the ocean calm, she brings her on deck, where they stand together and look at the vast gray expanse. Claudine stares out past the railing. All she can think about is what she left behind and the puzzle of what lies ahead. But after a couple of days, she notices that there is another girl who often stands at the railing at the same time. The girl has two long blond braids and a fringe of blond across her forehead. She is always holding a large toy monkey in her arms. The monkey has brown fur and a cream-colored face with black buttons for eyes. He wears a black collar around his neck. Following Claudine’s gaze, the girl holds the monkey out toward her.

  “Would you like to see him? His name is Jax.”

  “He’s very nice.” Claudine touches the monkey’s face.

  “I like your doll,” the girl adds shyly.

  “This is Violette. And I’m Claudine.”

  “Mathilde,” says the other girl. “Maybe we could play together while we’re on the boat. With Jax and Violette.”

  “That would be fun,” agrees Claudine, smiling for the first time since she said good-bye to her parents. “Are you going to New York City, too?”

  “Only to dock,” says Mathilde. “After that I go to a place called California. I have to take a train.”

  “What about your mother and father?” Claudine asks.

  “My father died. It’s just my mother, my big sister, and me.” Mathilde looks sad, but then she brightens. “And Jax, of course.”

  “Of course,” says Claudine.

  * * *

  It turns out the two girls lived not far from each other in Paris. Mathilde, too, was forced to wear the awful yellow star. Claudine shows her the lining of Violette’s cape. “I wanted to sew mine inside like that. Only my mother wouldn’t let me.” Clearly Mathilde is impressed by Claudine’s attempted resistance.

  Mathilde quickly becomes Claudine’s new best friend. They sit together during the lessons and invent games with Violette and Jax in the afternoons. Now that she has someone to play with, Claudine finds that she actually likes some aspects of being on a ship. The salt smell of the breeze, for instance, as it rises up to meet her in the mornings. The fantastic, ever-changing shapes of the clouds as they go scudding across the sky. She and Mathilde begin to explore the ship, which offers many opportunities for new and exciting games. There are barrels and ropes; portholes and ladders.

  One afternoon they discover a rowboat, complete with oars and life preservers, on one of the lower decks. This prompts Claudine to think of a game. Violette and Jax are stowaways on a big luxury liner; they use the rowboat to glide off in the middle of the night to an enchanted island. Claudine asks Mademoiselle LeBlanc if she can borrow some colored pencils and uses them to draw a very detailed map of where the island is located.

  “Did you think of this all by yourself?” Mathilde asks. “Or did you read about it somewhere?”

  “It’s my own idea,” Claudine says.

  “You should write it down,” Mathilde says. “Like a story in a book.”

  * * *

  Late one afternoon, as the sun seems to sink slowly into the water, Claudine and Mathilde descend several narrow flights of stairs. They have never been down this far before, and they are excited. They prowl around for a few minutes and soon find themselves standing in front of a strange-looking door. It is wide and squat; Claudine can easily imagine that it is the portal to some secret netherworld, hidden at the bottom of the ship. Maybe there are mermaids living here. Or sea monsters. She tries the doorknob. It is locked, but she spies a key suspended from a brass hook on the wall. Unfortunately, the hook is too high for her to reach.

  “Give me a boost,” she says to Mathilde.

  “Do you think we should?” Mathilde asks.

  “We won’t touch anything. We’ll just look.”

  “I’m not sure…,” Mathilde says.

  “Oh, come on,” urges Claudine. “I just have to know what’s in there!”

  Mathilde gives in and helps Claudine reach the key. Once the key is in her hand, Claudine unlocks the door. Inside there is a furnace filled with glowing coals. She gestures f
or Mathilde to follow. Together, the two girls explore the room. It doesn’t take long because there isn’t much to see. How disappointing. They back out of the room, and Claudine locks the door again. After returning the key to its hook, she and Mathilde go upstairs. They might have even forgotten about the whole thing had not Mademoiselle LeBlanc noticed the soot on their faces, clothing, and shoes. “How did you get so dirty?” she asks. “Where have you been?”

  Reluctantly, Claudine tells the story. They’re in trouble now, she thinks, reaching for Mathilde’s hand. But to her surprise, Mademoiselle LeBlanc is less angry than alarmed.

  “That was very dangerous. The furnace is hot. You children could have been badly burned. Promise me you’ll never go down there again.” She pulls both girls close and wraps her arms around them. Claudine thinks of the coals. They didn’t look dangerous at all; in fact, they looked quite ordinary, even a bit dull. But then there were other things that seemed dull or ordinary and turned out to be dangerous. Words in the newspaper. Or a scrap of yellow cloth, cut into the shape of a star.

  Safe Harbor

  The long journey across the ocean is coming to an end. Mathilde and Claudine point to the tall, proud statue in the distance. “Lady Liberty,” explains Mademoiselle LeBlanc. “A gift from the French people to the Americans.” Knowing this lifts Claudine’s spirits a bit, and she looks forward to seeing the statue get larger as they approach New York City, where they are soon to dock. Claudine is eager to arrive. Although she has never met Aunt Adele, she hopes that Maman’s sister will be as loving and kind as Maman herself. And she has American cousins: Marc, who is ten, and Audrey, who is six. Maybe they will grow to be friends.

  But she is very sad to have to say good-bye to Mathilde. The two girls exchange addresses and promise to write. Then they hug tightly. Claudine wishes they were going to be together. There have been so many good-byes. They stand on the deck as the ship approaches the shoreline. Claudine’s bag is packed and ready; Violette is lying on the bed in her cabin. Soon Claudine will go down and fetch them both. The sky over New York City is wide and blue; the tall buildings rise up into it. Today is a hopeful day. Maybe landing here will be the start of something good.

  She is about to ask Mathilde if she feels that way too, when suddenly a shout interrupts her thoughts. At first, the word fire means nothing to her—she speaks no English. But the cry is repeated in French—au secours!—and then she understands. There is a lot of frantic shouting now. Also running. Claudine stands frozen at the ship’s brass railing until Mademoiselle LeBlanc grabs her arm and hurries her along.

  “Up there,” she shouts. “Let’s go!” Claudine has never heard Mademoiselle sound so alarmed before, and she feels her own fear rising up like the great flame she imagines is burning somewhere out of sight. Claudine follows her quickly. Mademoiselle gathers more of their little group and soon they are all together, watching as the smoke pours out of the cabin windows.

  “It must have started in the furnace room belowdecks,” Mademoiselle LeBlanc is saying to another grown-up. Claudine looks around sharply at these words; she remembers when she and Mathilde found the secret door and the key.… Was that where the fire started? Could they have been responsible? But they hadn’t touched anything. And besides, that was days ago. She wants to ask just to make sure, but is distracted by the black coils of smoke that mount quickly toward the sky and fill it with acrid, dark clouds. She has never seen such clouds, and they terrify her.

  “Don’t be frightened,” says Mademoiselle LeBlanc, in an effort to soothe the children, some of whom are crying. In truth, she sounds frightened herself. The boat seems to pick up speed as it approaches the shore. Claudine hears the loud wails of sirens; fire trucks are already gathered and waiting for them. Mademoiselle is busy counting off the children on her fingers. “All here,” she says with a sigh, and closes her eyes briefly. Claudine sees Mathilde standing a few feet away. She is holding Jax. Claudine realizes with horror that her own arms are empty—Violette is not in them. The doll is waiting for Claudine to rescue her. She must go down to her cabin to get Violette, she must! She tugs on Mademoiselle’s arm to get her attention.

  “There’s something I need down below,” she tells her. “I have to go now.”

  “But that’s where the fire started!” protests Mademoiselle. “There’s so much smoke—it’s much too dangerous.” She looks searchingly at Claudine’s face and adds, “What did you leave behind?”

  “My doll,” says Claudine in a low voice, feeling embarrassed by the admission. Still, she must save Violette, so she goes on, “My parents gave her to me. She’s very special.”

  “Ah!” is all Mademoiselle says, but Claudine can see she understands. “Don’t worry,” continues Mademoiselle. “They’ll put the fire out before we dock, and we can get her later. I’ll go with you myself.” She puts a hand on Claudine’s shoulder and draws her close.

  * * *

  Despite Mademoiselle’s encouraging words, Claudine is unable to retrieve Violette or her bag from below the deck. There is so much noise and confusion when the boat docks, with firemen and police officers running every which way and yelling at the top of their voices. They direct people off the boat and hurry them through customs and immigration. Claudine can’t get anywhere near the stairs again, nor does she get a chance to say a proper good-bye to Mathilde, who is led away by a very large, loud woman in a polka-dot dress. All she can see are Mathilde’s blond braids flopping around as she hurries to keep pace with her companion.

  But Claudine has no time to think about that either. Almost immediately, she is found by Aunt Adele and Uncle Gus, who have come to meet the boat and are frantic when they learn about the fire.

  “We’ll contact the ship’s crew in the morning,” soothes Aunt Adele, steering Claudine away from the crowds, toward the car that will take them home. “I’m sure your things will turn up, and Uncle Gus can drive in tomorrow to get them.” Claudine herself is not at all sure that this will happen but says nothing. Instead, she keeps her eyes closed during most of the trip to Long Island, where her aunt and uncle live. As the noise of the cars, buses, and trucks gives way to sounds of birds and children calling to one another, Claudine cannot get Violette out of her mind. If only she had not left her in the cabin. If only she had brought her on deck, as she had so many times before! But it is useless to think about that. Maybe Aunt Adele is right. Tomorrow they will call, and someone will find Violette and return her to Claudine. She opens her eyes and looks around at the streets and roads and houses of what will be her new home—America.

  “Here we are!” calls out Aunt Adele as the car pulls into a driveway on a pleasant, tree-lined street. Compared to the house in Paris, her new home is in the country. Lawns, shrubs, and flowers are all around. Across the road, a horse grazes in an open meadow. The car stops and Claudine gets out. There in the open doorway of the house stand a girl and a boy. Her cousins, Audrey and Marc.

  “Come and say hello,” Aunt Adele says, extending her hand to Claudine.

  In America

  Claudine tries hard to be happy in America. Her aunt and uncle are kind and loving. Little Audrey worships her and spends her time making cards and posters for Claudine. Even Marc is friendly enough; he shows her how to play American board games like Monopoly. Claudine has her own room, on the top floor of the house. While it is not the pretty pink-and-green room she was used to in Paris, she has to admit it is very nice. There is an oval rag rug, white chenille bedspread, and curtains Aunt Adele sewed herself, using an old dress that had a wonderful pattern of big parasols, some open and some shut.

  Even with numerous telephone calls to the shipping agent’s office in New York City, Claudine’s things do not turn up after the fire. Her aunt and uncle take her shopping right away at a large store where they buy her a brand-new coat, skirts, blouses, and a cardigan for school, as well as a taffeta party dress. And because she is so sad about losing Violette, they offer to buy her a doll.

 
Claudine cannot bear the idea of having a new doll. She wants and longs only for Violette. “Are you sure?” her aunt and uncle ask again.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she says, shaking her head as they stand before the plate glass window of the toy store. Through the window she can see a wall of alluring dolls lined up in a neat row. Next to the dolls are handsome doll trunks and clothes and real furniture, like armchairs, a dining table, and a kitchen set—icebox, sink, and stove, with what look like real copper pots on its burners. Claudine looks away.

  “You can play with my dollies,” says Audrey in French, shyly slipping her hand into Claudine’s. “I’ll let you have any one you want.” Claudine takes her cousin’s hand and doesn’t let go.

  * * *

  Gradually, Claudine grows accustomed to her new life. With the help of her uncle and aunt, she learns to speak some English, though the words feel clumsy on her tongue. Aunt Adele suggests that she read some of Audrey’s books, the ones that have a single word—cat, ball, hen—with a corresponding picture on each page. Claudine rejects the books as too babyish. But after studying them for a while, she has to admit that they do help. Soon she is able to talk to Audrey in English and tease Marc back when he teases her. There is a new school and new friends, who love her French accent and ask her lots of questions about Paris. “Does everyone wear a beret?” asks one girl. “And do people really carry loaves of bread under their arms?” The silly questions cheer Claudine up, if only a little. No one here says anything about being Jewish, and for this Claudine is grateful. When she first arrived and asked if she had to wear the yellow star, Aunt Adele wrapped her in her arms and said, “Not here, my darling. Thank God, not here.”