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Authors: Jonathan Rabb

Tags: #Historical, #Jewish, #Fiction, #Literary

Among the Living (15 page)

BOOK: Among the Living
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On the ride back they caught the worst of the sun, the glare off the water on the windscreen almost impenetrable. He managed it, even with his free hand in hers. She had insisted he drive.

When they turned onto Thirty-Sixth Street she slid back to the passenger side of the seat, just in time to see Pearl on
the porch. She wasn’t sitting. She was holding the telephone on an extension line and, when she saw them drive up, she quickly hung up. She set the telephone on the rail and started down the path. Goldah saw the panic in her step.

“Ike,” Pearl said, not bothering to acknowledge Eva, “you need to come inside. I need to stay by the telephone.”

Goldah was stepping around the hood of the car. “What’s the matter? Where’s Abe?”

“Abe?” Pearl said. “Abe is fine. Why would you ask about Abe?”

“This is Eva —”

“I know who she is,” Pearl said tightly. She finally looked at Eva. “Good afternoon, Mrs. De la Parra. I would invite you in but I’m afraid this isn’t a convenient time.”

Eva said, “Is everything all right, Mrs. Jesler?”

“Everything is fine, Mrs. De la Parra. You’re very kind to ask.”

“What’s happened?” said Goldah.

Pearl said, “We need to go inside.”

Eva slid over behind the wheel. “I should probably get home.”

“No,” Goldah said more firmly. “Pearl, what’s happened?”

Pearl’s face grew hard. She glanced at Eva, then at Goldah. “I’d like to go inside, Ike.”

Goldah said calmly, “I understand that, but I’d like to know —”

“Raymond’s been beaten and his hand has been shattered.” Pearl’s expression showed a bitterness Goldah had never seen in her. “I would have preferred to tell you inside, but now, there you have it.” She looked at Eva. “Raymond is a boy who works at our store, Mrs. De la Parra. It’s quite a terrible thing.”

Goldah moved toward Pearl but she said, “I wasn’t aware you were going off today, Ike. To the beach, evidently. How very pleasant for you. We’ve had people trying to reach you, but obviously that wasn’t possible, was it?” She looked at Eva.
“You’ll forgive me, Mrs. De la Parra, but I took the liberty of telephoning your parents in the hopes of finding Ike. They were not aware that the two of you were off together today.”

Goldah matched the sharpness in her voice. “Where is Raymond now?”

“At his home.”

“With Abe?”

“Yes. And a Negro doctor. I’m trying to find a surgeon who will take a look at the hand.”

“How is Abe?”

“How do you think, Ike? How do you think Abe is? I need to get back inside to the telephone.”

She started to go and Goldah said, “I’d like Raymond’s address.”

Pearl turned back. She stared coldly, then gave it to him.

Goldah said, “I’m going to go.”

“You do what you like,” Pearl said and turned again for the path.

The row houses each had a box porch above the stoop, with three plank steps leading up to a front door, wood beams browned and rotted. Goldah saw Jesler’s Ambassador parked on the dirt road in front of one and he told Eva to pull over.

Mary Royal answered the door. Her eyes were red. She was done with her crying and showed only a moment’s surprise at seeing Eva.

“How is he?” said Goldah.

“Bad, Mr. Ike. Real bad. He won’t get no more use out a that hand.”

“They’re sure?”

“The doctor’s come and gone. Raymond’s sleeping.”

“And Abe?”

Calvin’s voice came from the distance behind her. “Who’s at the door?”

“Mr. Ike, Pawpaw.”

“He alone?”

“No.”

“Invite them in,” Calvin said.

Goldah followed Mary Royal and Eva down a corridor. He felt the need to duck his head even though he had a few inches to spare. They passed the door to a kitchen, where three women and a young boy stood and sat around a table. They barely looked over as the three moved past.

Mary Royal stepped through a narrow doorframe and into the back room. It was small, the floorboards painted white, with a throw rug by the metal bed. The mattress was wide enough for two but Raymond lay by himself, propped up at its center, deep in sleep. His hand was in white bandages and rested on a straw pillow, traces of blood where the knuckles would have been. His face was bloated from the beating, and his breathing was hard. Jesler sat in a chair leaning forward. His elbows were on his knees, his head on his clenched hands, as he stared at Raymond. At the other side of the bed, an older woman pressed a wet cloth to Raymond’s brow. She, too, had been crying. Calvin stood in the corner.

Goldah said, “Pearl’s been trying to find a surgeon.”

“It won’t do no good,” Calvin said. “Evening, Miss Eva. Can we get you something to drink?”

“No. No, thank you,” she said solemnly, her eyes on Raymond. “They gave him something?”

“Doctor give him a shot. Morphine, I think. Said it’d let him sleep.”

Goldah said, “Hello, Abe.”

Only then did Jesler look over. His eyes were blank. He nodded quietly and turned back to Raymond.

Calvin said to Mary Royal, “Why don’t you go get something to drink for Miss Eva and Mr. Ike. We have tea and lemonade, Miss Eva.” He brought a chair over to her. “I can have another brung in if you want.”

Eva sat.

“When did it happen?” said Goldah.

“Early. Out at the warehouse. He was loading up for the Jacksonville run. We got a call down to the store just before lunch. Someone find Raymond against the truck.”

“And no one saw anything?”

“ ‘Saw anything’?” said Calvin. “I’m sure there was a mess a boys who saw it. Ain’t no one going to do nothing about it.”

Mary Royal returned with a tray and a pitcher. She set them down on the dresser and poured out a few glasses. She handed one to Eva.

Calvin said, “I got something to show you outside, Mr. Ike, that is if that’s all right with you, Miss Eva?”

“Of course. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, ma’am. Just sit with Mary Royal if you would.”

“Of course.”

Goldah followed Calvin down the corridor and outside to the porch. The dirt street was empty under dusk, save for some boys a few houses down, tossing a rock or a ball. Calvin stepped to the edge of the porch and placed his hands on the railing. He stared out at the street and waited until Goldah was with him.

“You go off with Miss Eva today?”

“I did. Yes.”

“Out to Tybee?”

“Yes.”

“And you stop by Miss Pearl on the way back?”

“She was the one to tell us.”

Calvin spat something to the dirt. “There ain’t nothing I got to show you out here, Mr. Ike.”

“I didn’t think there was.”

“Just didn’t want Miss Eva or Mr. Abe hearing, that’s all.”

“Hearing what?”

Calvin continued to stare out. “You seen him. He ain’t right about this. He said maybe three words when he come in, and then he just set there. He knows it’s on him what happened to Raymond and I ain’t going to tell him otherwise, but he’s got to snap himself out. Whatever he done, he done, but it only gets worse if he don’t find his way. You understand what I’m saying?”

“I think I do, Calvin.”

“Them Irish sending their message all right this time, sending it through his nigger.”

Goldah had never heard an edge in Calvin’s voice; he was glad for it but said nothing.

“That boy ain’t never going to use that hand again. And no telling for sure about that eye neither. They used a bat, Mr. Ike. A bat. That’s a war hero laying in there, and they used a bat. Think Mr. Abe understanding things now?”

“I know.”

“Yes, I know you know. And I know you know better than most. I understand, but this ain’t like what you had in the war in those camps. I’m sorry to say it, but it ain’t the same. They tried to kill you, all a you, all at once. I seen that. But here they kill us one at a time and that’s a difference.”

They had never spoken about the war, about anything before Savannah. Goldah had told himself there had been no need. They knew each other, knew the shared silences
to their cores. Now Goldah saw how naïve that had been. There was a ranking, even to victims, and severity had no cause against time.

“Yes,” said Goldah. “It’s a difference. You’re right.”

Calvin continued to stare out. Goldah left him there and moved back inside. From the dark of the corridor he saw Eva sitting with her hand in Mary Royal’s, Jesler behind them, his shoulders rocking in his chair. He was a Jew in prayer. For what, Goldah could only imagine.

PART TWO

 

6

MARY ROYAL SAT
with Raymond on the small porch of the house. His good eye was still having trouble adjusting to the sunlight and she brought the brim of his hat lower on his face so as to lend him some ease. His bandaged hand sat on his lap like so much rotted fruit: hints of a shape that was familiar, with an odor that required constant tending. His other held a bottle of Coca-Cola, its straw absently resting on his lip.

They heard the car before they saw it, its carriage bouncing along the tiny hillocks of churned dirt.

When it came to a stop, Mary Royal said, “Hey there, Miss Eva.” Mary Royal always did her best to hide the exhaustion in her voice. “We sitting outside today. First time.”

Eva had made a habit of dropping by every few days. She stepped around the front of her car, and said, “I can see that, yes. It’s a good day for it. Good for you. I’ve brought some apple butter. Mr. Ginsburg sent it along, no charge.” Eva placed the jar on the rail as she moved up to the porch.

“The Ginsbergs is good people,” said Mary Royal. “Raymond helped them move themselves upstairs in the store a few years back, you remember that, Raymond?”

Eva said, “Mr. Ginsburg mentioned that, yes. Hello there, Raymond.”

Raymond licked at one corner of his mouth, the other still swollen, and slowly pulled the straw from his lip.

“Afternoon, Miss Eva.” His words were slurred. The doctor had said it was still a few days before the jaw and throat would find their full mobility.

“You’re sounding so much better,” said Eva. “Maybe you could get in some walking today?”

Raymond continued to stare out at the street. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Walking can really do the trick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Eva heard the hollowness in his voice. Worse, she heard the need in her own and thought how petty and foolish these words must sound — the consolation and the caring — and recalled their hollowness when her Charles had died.

Mary Royal said, “No Mr. Ike today?”

“No,” said Eva. “He’s down at the store … or with the truck. I forget.”

“He’s always down at the store these days.”

“Yes.” Eva forced a smile. “Shall we have some of this apple butter?”

Raymond said, “We been eating just fine, Miss Eva. Mr. Abe sent all sorts a food. Feed an army on it.”

“Good — that’s good. I’m glad.”

Mary Royal said, “Not that we don’t appreciate what you brung. It’s very kind.”

Eva saw the strain in the girl’s eyes. She tried to share a moment with her, but Mary Royal kept her sadness to herself.

Eva said, “And when was Mr. Jesler here?”

“He ain’t,” Raymond said plainly. “Just sent it. We be fine on food for a while. No need to trouble yourself no more. Or Mr. Ike. We be fine. That’d do the trick.”

Eva heard the quiet scorn — the brazenness in the word “trick” thrown back at her — and she let it pass. “Yes,” she said. “Well, I just wanted to check in. I’ll leave the apple butter here, shall I?”

Mary Royal said, “That’d be fine. And you tell Mr. Ike we appreciate all he done, taking over the deliveries and such.”

Eva nodded. “Yes. I surely will.” She thought to place a hand on Mary Royal’s shoulder but knew it would do neither of them any good.

BOOK: Among the Living
12.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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