Ella of All-of-a-Kind Family (6 page)

Afterward, Ella stood backstage amid the other performers, with Nathan at her side, shaking hands and acknowledging compliments. This was the reward for all
her hard work and constant practice. Oh, but it’s worth it—every bit of it, she exulted.

At the fringe of the crowd surrounding her, there hovered a paunchy, moon-faced man wearing steel-rimmed glasses and a high, stiff collar, clutching a derby in his hand. Only when the crowd had thinned out did he approach her.

“Young lady,” he said, “you’re quite a warbler.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You an Albany girl?”

“No. I’m from New York City.”

He nodded. “Is that so? You interested in the big time?”

“Big time?” Ella repeated.

Nathan laughed. “He means the professional stage.”

The stranger did not wait for her answer. “Well now, don’t misunderstand,” he continued. “I’m not a talent scout. As a matter of fact, I’m the manager of the vaudeville theatre here. But I’ve got a friend, Mr. Hart, and he’s a scout for the top producers on Broadway. My friend’s going to audition in a couple of weeks. If you’re interested, I’ll be glad to let him, or your manager here, know.”

“I’m not her manager. She’s just my cousin,” Nathan explained. “I live here in Albany. He’d have to contact her folks in New York.”

The stranger copied down Ella’s address and phone number. “Well, you’ll be hearing from him,” he promised. “You were swell, young lady. Good luck.”

Clapping his derby on his head, he turned on his heel and was gone.

Startled by the unexpected development, Ella could only look to Nathan and ask, “What do you think?”

Nathan put up a restraining hand. “You mustn’t put too much stock in this kind of offer. If he calls, okay. If not, don’t let it bother you.”

“Oh Nathan, I feel as if I were in a dream.… I hope I never wake up!”

Ella sat curled up in a big armchair downstairs in the Healy flat.

“You know, Grace,” she mused, “it’s only two weeks since I came home from Albany and already the whole thing seems like something that never really happened.”

“It’s always that way when you go off somewhere and then return home,” Grace responded.

Ella heaved a sigh of content. “It’s so heavenly peaceful down here. I love my family—every single one of them—but sometimes it gets so noisy in our apartment, you can’t hear yourself think. Honestly, sometimes I almost wish I were an only child, like you.”

Grace shook her head vigorously. “Oh no you don’t. You can’t possibly imagine how lonely it can be. I think big families are great. I’d trade with you anytime. When I get married, I want to be knee-deep in children.” Her eyes met Ella’s and she laughed a little. “Here I am talking about marriage and no one’s even asked me yet.”

Ella looked at her sympathetically. “Have you any idea when Bill’s coming home?” she asked. “After all, the war ended about six months ago.”

“His last letter said soon. I had hoped it would be by Easter. I even bought a whole new Easter outfit. I keep
thinking how wonderful it would be—the four of us, you and Jules, Bill and me—all together again.” Her shoulders lifted helplessly. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait.”

She turned toward Ella with an appealing gesture. “When I think of seeing Bill again, I am so overwhelmed with happiness, I can hardly bear it.…” Her voice trailed off.

Sweet, lovely Grace, reflected Ella, with her vision of the future so simple and clear—marriage, love, children and Bill. No yearning for something more, the way it is with me. Does it mean that I love Jules any the less? Or is it that I am incapable of loving anyone completely as Grace does? That man in Albany. He didn’t promise anything. But still I can’t help keep thinking about it and hoping his friend will call.

“Ella,” Grace called her back to the here and now, “don’t you just love Easter? It comes at the nicest time of the year.”

Ella nodded. “Just like Passover. Which reminds me, Mama said to be sure and invite you to our Seder. Will you come?”

“I’d love to.”

It was late afternoon on the eve of Passover. The house looked particularly clean and tidy. As was customary, all the dishes and pots used during the rest of the year had been put away. Now the table was laid with the china and glassware reserved especially for use throughout the Passover week. The old morris chair, piled high with cushions, was moved to the head of the table. Tonight when the family celebrated the Seder service, Papa, dressed in his white ceremonial robe and skullcap embroidered in gold, would recline in the chair like a king. In like
manner, Jews all over the world would celebrate their deliverance from the land of Egypt.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Charlie watched Papa lay out the symbolic foods on the large Seder plate.

“Will Elijah come to our house again tonight, Papa?” he asked.

“Certainly. Elijah comes to the Seder every year.”

“Does he go to everybody’s house?”

“Yes.”

“All over the world?”

“Yes, Charlie.”

“But how can he get around so fast?”

“Why, with four strokes of his mighty wings, Elijah can cover the whole world! No place is too far away for him.”

Charlie mulled this over for a moment. Then he came out with “Papa, at the end of the Seder, when we open the door for Elijah to come in to drink the wine from his own cup, why can’t we see him?”

“Because he makes himself invisible. But even so, we can feel that he is there and we’re glad he has come to bless our house and all the people in it.”

Charlie still wasn’t satisfied. “But why does he make himself invisible?”

Papa smiled. “Well, that’s the way angels behave sometimes. Charlie, did you know that once, a long, long time ago, Elijah lived on earth?”

Charlie’s eyes became round as marbles. “He did?”

“Yes, he really did. In those days he was a prophet in the kingdom of Israel. Everyone loved him because he was so good and kind. He helped all the poor people and punished the wicked ones. When he died it was said that he went straight up to heaven in a fiery chariot.

“But though Elijah now lives in heaven, he has never forgotten his people. He has come back to earth many times, performing miracles to protect someone in danger or to help someone in great trouble. There are lots and lots of stories about him.”

“Could you tell me one, Papa?”

“Well, one story tells how Elijah comes to the home of a poor man and his wife and asks for something to eat. They invite him in to share their food even though there is hardly enough for themselves. But the moment Elijah sits down at the table, lo and behold, lots of good things to eat suddenly appear!

“The poor people are overcome with joy. Elijah smiles and is gone!

“Later Elijah knocks on the gate of a rich man and begs for shelter. But the rich man is mean and selfish. ‘Go away!’ he says. ‘I have no room for beggars!’

“Elijah turns away but he leaves behind a terrible misfortune. The rich man loses all his money!”

“Didn’t they know it was Elijah?” Charlie asked.

“No. All the legends say that no one ever recognizes Elijah. He always wears some kind of disguise.”

“I wish I could see him.”

“Who knows, Charlie? Maybe you will someday. Maybe you have seen him already, but you don’t know it.” Papa patted him on the head. “I remember another story about a boy like you who also wanted to see Elijah. Would you like to hear it?”

“Oh yes!”

“Well,” began Papa, “once there was a very famous rabbi. When this rabbi was still a young boy, he wanted to
see Elijah the Prophet very much. So he begged his father to show Elijah to him.

“The boy’s father said, If you study the Torah very hard, maybe then you will be worthy of seeing him.’

“The boy studied hard, day and night. At the end of a year, he said to his father, ‘Papa, I did just what you told me. I’ve studied the Torah very hard, but still Elijah has not shown himself to me.’

“So the boy’s father answered, ‘You are too impatient, my son. When Elijah thinks you really deserve it, he’ll show himself to you.’

“One night, when the young boy was studying all alone in his father’s synagogue, an old man came in. His clothes were torn and dirty-looking, and held together with a rope tied around his middle. He was carrying a heavy sack on his back. His tired, wrinkled face was not very clean either. All in all, I can tell you, he wasn’t a very pleasant sight.

“He didn’t say anything. He just plopped the sack down on the floor and slumped down beside it, right there in the synagogue!

“This made the boy angry. ‘What do you mean settling yourself here?’ he yelled at the old man. ‘This is not an inn where you get a night’s lodging.’

“ ‘I’m sorry,’ the stranger said. ‘I did not mean to dishonor the synagogue. But I’m so tired. Please, let me rest here for just a little while; then I’ll be off.’

“ ‘No, you can’t stay here!’ the boy shouted. ‘I’m sure my father wouldn’t like to have tramps coming in here with their dirty things.’

“The poor old man sighed wearily. He staggered to his feet, picked up his heavy bundle and went away.

“A little while later, the boy’s father returned to the synagogue. ‘Well, my son,’ he asked, ‘have you seen Elijah yet?’

“The boy shook his head sadly. ‘No, father, I haven’t. All I saw was an old tramp with a sack on his back.’

“ ‘Did you welcome him with the words
Shalom aleichem
[Peace be with you]?’ the father asked.

“ ‘No, father, I didn’t,’ the boy replied.

“ ‘Oh, my foolish son! Why didn’t you? Didn’t you know that that was Elijah?’ Sorrowfully he shook his head. ‘Alas, I’m afraid now it’s too late.’

“From that day on, the young boy changed. He never failed to welcome anyone, no matter who he was, or how he looked. And Charlie,” Papa held up a warning finger, “you must do the same.”

Charlie dug his hands into his pockets and walked slowly to his room. The picture of the old man plodding along with a heavy sack on his back kept reappearing before him. There was something very familiar about it. What was it?

Then, like a dart of lightning, it came to him! Of course! Grabbing his jacket, he slipped out through the parlor door so quietly, no one noticed his going.

The sun had set. The guests were already assembled around the table. To the right of Papa’s throne, were Uncle Hyman, Aunt Lena, Tanta, and Grace. To the left sat Aunt Fanny and Uncle Joe and Ruthie—looking a little less like a plucked chicken, now that her hair had grown out a little. All the other chairs were occupied by the family—all, that is, except one.

“Where’s Charlie? All day long he could hardly wait for
the Seder to begin,” Papa cried, annoyed. “Now where is he?”

“Charlie! Charlie!” the sisters called, running through the house searching everywhere—under beds, inside closets, behind the piano, and even out in the hall. No Charlie anywhere!

“He may have gone downstairs,” Henny suggested. “I’ll go look.”

“We didn’t see him when we came,” Aunt Lena declared.

“We didn’t see him either,” Aunt Fanny added. “Tsk, tsk! What could have happened to the child?”

“Could he have gone to your house, Grace?” Mama asked, by now a bit worried.

Grace hurried toward the door. “I’ll see.”

In a few minutes both she and Henny were back. No Charlie!

“Could he have gone to a friend’s house?” Ella offered.

Mama shook her head. “Tonight?”

“Where could he be?” everyone wondered out loud.

Papa was completely baffled. “He was in the kitchen with me just a little while ago. I was telling him a story. How was it no one saw him go?”

“We were all so busy with last-minute things, no one paid any attention,” Sarah put in.

“Tonight of all nights!” Papa’s voice rose angrily.

Aunt Lena signaled to Mama. “Why don’t you call up one of his friends anyway?” she urged.

“Yes. Yes, I will.” Mama started for the phone.

Precisely at that moment, the kitchen door was heard opening.

“Charlie?” Mama called out hopefully.

“Papa, Papa!” Charlie’s voice sounded all excited.

“Charlie, where were you?” Papa cried. “Just when we are to begin the …” Papa’s unfinished sentence hung in midair. Charlie was not alone. Behind him trailed a short, stocky man with graying hair, a mass of curls tumbling over his forehead. He was dressed in a faded brown shirt and baggy trousers held together by a rope tied around his middle. It was Tony, the iceman!

Taking hold of Tony’s hand, Charlie propelled him gently forward. “See, Papa,” he announced triumphantly, his face radiant with happiness, “I brought Elijah!”

Speechless, everyone eyed the unexpected guest. Finally, Aunt Fanny found her voice. “What kind of Elijah is this?” she tittered. “Tony, the iceman?”

“Could be,” Tanta said. “After all, Elijah always carried a bundle on his back. And with Tony, it’s always a sack of coal in the winter or a big block of ice in the summer.”

Grins appeared on all the faces, but Papa shook his head disapprovingly. At once the grins disappeared.

“Excuse me,” Tony said hastily, “your little Charlie, he tells me it is Seder night and I must come upstairs with him and drink the wine. I could not say no to the little boy. So I come.”

Papa nodded and pointed to the wine bottle. “Help yourself, Tony.”

Tony picked up the glass nearest him already filled.

“No, no Elijah,” Charlie bounced up and down. “You have to drink from your own cup!”

Tony mussed the boy’s hair. “That’s all right, Charlie. This’ll do fine.” Without further ado, he drained the glass.

“Well, I thank you. The wine, it is good—very good. Now I must go. I still have some ice to deliver. Good night and a happy holiday to all of you.”

As the door closed behind Tony, the glow faded from Charlie’s face. Mournfully he looked at Elijah’s cup on the table. He turned to Papa. “He didn’t drink from his cup. I guess maybe it wasn’t Elijah after all.”

Papa put his arm around Charlie and drew him close.

“Well Charlie, we’ll never know, will we? Maybe he didn’t want to be recognized. Come, my son, take your place and let the Seder begin.”