Jacob's Way (11 page)

That night she knelt beside her bed and said her prayers, then read for a time. She looked at the gospel of John but decided not to read it.
I can't believe all of that.
She was doubtful about the miracles of Jesus, turning water into wine, healing the blind. It was more than her mind could take in. Despite the fact that she was drawn to Jesus Christ, still she knew that such a thing was dangerous for a good Jew. She had always been told so. She had seen young boys being chased by Gentiles who yelled, “Christ killer! Christ killer!” and beat them badly when they caught them.

She turned out the light and got into bed and waited until Boris came and plopped himself down beside her. She stroked his fur saying, “You'll have to be good until I come back. It will only be a few days, Boris.”

She closed her eyes and wondered at the audacity that such an adventure seemed to take. As sleep came upon her, she thought again of Jesus, and how he healed people and seemed to love everybody. She found herself wishing that the story in the little book were really true. And then sleep overtook her.

Nine

R
eisa and Jacob stood still, packs on their backs, as the sun began to rise. It was very silent. Nature seemed to be struck dumb with no sound at all. And then Jacob heard the sound of a dove making its peculiar, poignant cooing sound. He did not know what sort of bird it was, for he had never seen or heard one in Russia. It saddened him for a moment, for it was a sad cry.

Then the moment passed as the world began to be bathed in morning freshness, a bright cleansing light. As they stood there, the horizon made sharp lines in the distance.

“How quiet it is and peaceful,” Jacob murmured. “You know, Reisa, I heard once of a man who was sent to a prison camp in Siberia. He was a musician, but there was no piano there. The way I heard the story, he carved the piano keyboard with a nail on a piece of wood and for long hours would sit there playing the piano—but the music was made entirely of silence.”

Reisa took his arm. “Come,” she said briskly. “We'll make our first sale in that house.”

“You're sure of that?” Jacob smiled. He wore his pack on his back, and his eyes fastened on the house that lay ahead of them not more than two hundred yards.

“Oh, I think so. We'll think it about every house. We'll think,
This is the woman or the man who will buy something from us.”

The two moved toward the house. It was set back twenty yards from the road and surrounded by a white picket fence. Inside the yard, bright tulips paraded up the pathway to the door. Hearing a faint sound, they glanced upward to see a flight of geese headed south.

“Look,
Zaideh
—geese!” Reisa studied the V-shaped flight and murmured, “I wonder where my goose is? I wonder if he's happy?” “We'll have to think that he is. It's beyond us. You did all you could for him, and now he's in the hands of the Master of the Universe—just like all of us.”

Reisa commented, “You know, I think people who live in the country are happier than those who live in the city.” She did not elaborate, but Jacob understood that she was making some sort of a statement about their life in New York. He felt the same himself, and just being out in the rural area surrounded by green grass, towering trees, and running brooks seemed to lift his spirits. He missed his native land, but would never say as much to Reisa or anyone else.

As they approached the white fence, a cinnamon-colored dog with stiff fur and a large bullet-shaped head came from around the house. The pair halted immediately as the dog came to the gate and stood there, fixing them with his pale eyes.

Nonplused, they did not know what to do. The dog looked dangerous, and although they liked animals, Jacob and Reisa did not know whether they could trust this one. This was one of the dangers that Zuriel Benjamin had warned them about.

“Maybe we'd better go to the next house, Reisa.”

“Wait—someone's coming.”

Just then the door opened. A short, dumpy woman wearing a gray dress and a white apron stepped outside. She paused on the porch giving the pair a curious look, then came down and spoke sharply to the dog. “Get away, Mickey!” She did not give the dog a second glance, and he slumped away and plopped down in the grass. “What do you want?” she asked curtly.

“Good morning,” Reisa smiled. Despite her words, the woman did look approachable. She had a round, red face, light blue eyes, and taupe-colored hair that was in rather a disarray. She was a working woman, Reisa saw, for her hands were red and chapped. There was nothing fine about her, and for some reason this encouraged Reisa. “Could we show you some nice ribbon this morning? Or perhaps you're running low on spices.”

“You're a peddler?” the woman said with surprise washing across her face. “I've never seen a woman peddler before.”

“My name is Reisa Dimitri, and this is my grandfather, Jacob. We have some lovely things.”

The woman hesitated, then nodded. “My name is Mrs. Dortch. I don't think I'd like anything this morning.”

“Oh, please! Couldn't you look?”

At that moment a group of children came tumbling around the house—two boys and two girls, healthy, and their faces flushed with exercise. “Mama,” the oldest girl pleaded, “Please let us look.”

Mrs. Dortch hesitated. “Well, I don't suppose it would hurt anything to look. You'd better come into the house though.”

This was better than they had expected. Reisa gave Jacob an encouraging smile, and the pair followed the woman into the house. They were flanked by the children, and as Reisa set her pack on the floor and opened it, they crowded in to see what she had. Reisa and Jacob both opened their packs eagerly, and soon the floor was covered with their merchandise.

“You don't have to unpack everything. I can't afford much.”

Reisa was encouraged by this “much” for it did not mean “nothing.”

“Look at this.” Reisa held up a brightly colored neckerchief to the oldest girl. “That would look nice to shade your head from the sun.”

“Oh, Mama, can I have it?” the girl cried. She put it on her head and tied it. “How do I look? Can I have it, Mama?”

“How much is it?” Mrs. Dortch asked cautiously.

“It's usually twenty-five cents, but because this is our first sale, you can have it for fifteen.”

“Very well. I'll take it,” Mrs. Dortch said.

This, of course, was a trigger for the other children, for they would not be left out. Mrs. Dortch wound up buying three dollars worth of merchandise. After they had repacked their merchandise, Mrs. Dortch insisted they have coffee or tea, whichever they preferred.

Thirty minutes later they left the house, and Mrs. Dortch walked to the gate with them. “That next house down the road, the white one over there. My sister lives there. Her name is Gretchen Kleinman. Go tell her that I sent you.” Mrs. Dortch grinned broadly. “She's got plenty of money, although she'll act poor. That husband of hers has made a miser out of her. Make a good sale there.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Dortch. I hope that we'll see you again,” Reisa said.

Mrs. Dortch nodded, and the two left the yard. When they were out of hearing distance, Reisa smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Didn't I tell you,
Zaideh?
What a wonderful way to start our day!” “Yes, and I have the idea that if we sell something and the people are nice, we could ask them who lives down the road. It means something, I think, if you go call someone by name.”

They found this to be true. Mrs. Kleinman bought over five dollars worth of merchandise and sent them to her neighbor, Mrs. Heller. She sniffed, “She's not a good neighbor, but can well afford to buy some things. I wish,” she said, “she would buy something to fix herself up. She goes around looking like a wet dish rag! A shame for a woman to let herself go like that.”

Jacob and Reisa exchanged glances and smiled. Not only was their new venture making money—but they were enjoying themselves too!

A little brook was stirred by the wind, its clear water chuckling in the clump of willows, as the two passed over it on a wooden bridge. Both Jacob and Reisa were exhausted, for it had been a long day. Their packs were considerably lighter, however, and the silver from their sales jingled in Jacob's pocket with a comforting sound and a reassuring weight.

Reisa glanced at her grandfather, distressed by the fatigue on his face. She realized that she should have called a halt two hours ago at least, but her grandfather had not complained, and she had been excited with the success of the day's peddling. “I think we'd better think about a place to stay,
Zaideh
.”

“I would not mind something to eat and a bed, but there's no bed here.”

“Zuriel told me that he often traded some goods for a night's lodging. That's a big house up there. If they don't have too many children, perhaps they will trade us a room or at least a place in the barn with some blankets for something we have that they like. We'll try it. Come along.”

They approached the house, which was a large, rambling, white two-storied structure. A barn stood out behind it with several cows grazing, but happily there was no dog to greet them. They stepped up on the porch. Reisa noticed how slowly Jacob moved, and her heart smote her. “I should have been more watchful,” she said. “We'll not work this late again.”

At her knock the door opened, almost as if someone had been watching them. A tall thin man well up in years stood there, and his eyes took them in carefully. “Good evening. You're out late,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Reisa spoke up. “We've been traveling all day selling our goods to your neighbors. We just left Mrs. Williams' house. Would you have a few moments to look at what we have?”

The man turned and said, “Mama, would you like to look at what these people have?”

The woman who came was as small as the man was tall. No more than five feet two inches, she had snow-white hair and a pair of kindly brown eyes. “Well, come in. We're just fixing supper.”

“We wouldn't want to intrude,” Jacob said quickly.

“Oh, my land, it's no trouble at all. Come into the parlor and put your packs down.”

“My name is Elmo Tarkington. This is my wife, Judith.” The tall man listened as Reisa gave her name and Jacob's, then said tentatively, “Mama always cooks like all of our children was at home. Be proud to have you sit and join with us.”

“That's very kind of you,” Jacob said and hesitated. “But we are Jewish, you see, and there are some foods we can't eat.”

“Is that a fact? Well, come and sit down. I don't know what you eat, but I'll bet Mama can find somethin' like it.”

“Why don't you go wash up first,” Judith interrupted. “The road's been dusty today.”

It was a relief for the two to wash their face and hands. They dried off on clean white towels.

When they came to the table, Elmo Tarkington said, “Sit down over there, Mr.—I didn't catch your name.”

“Jacob Dimitri, and this is my granddaughter, Reisa.”

“Dimitri! You're not from around here, I take it?”

“No. My English is not good. We are from Russia.”

“Well, I swan!” Mrs. Judith Tarkington said. “All the way across the water! Well, isn't that fine! Now you set down there, and we'll find you something to eat.”

The table was spread with a red and white cloth, and in the center was a baked ham. But there were vegetables and there was bread.

As they sat down, Mr. Tarkington said, “Reckon do you say a blessing like we do?”

“Oh, yes,” Jacob said quickly. “Always we give thanks.”

“Well, why don't you say it, brother,” Tarkington said, and the pair bowed their heads.

Jacob was taken aback but bowed his head and said at once, “We thank thee, oh great Maker of the Universe, for this food. I thank thee for this generous couple and for their hospitality, and I ask that your peace and your rest and your safety might fall upon them and upon their children. Amen.”

“Well, what can you folks eat and what can you not eat?” Judith Tarkington asked.

“We're not allowed to eat pork,” Reisa said. “But we can surely eat the vegetables.”

“Well, we got plenty of them.” And there on the table were corn on the cob, a huge bowl of peas, and fried squash.

Reisa and her grandfather ate hungrily, and throughout the meal Elmo, who was a curious sort, asked them question after question about Russia. Finally his wife said, “Will you hush, Elmo, and let them eat. Do you have to know everything in the world?”

Grinning, Tarkington said, “She gets on me because I want to know about things, but I think it's natural.”

“It ain't natural to ask a thousand questions to guests. Now you hush up.”

Reisa smiled. “We don't mind in the least. You have such a lovely home here.”

“Well, it was plumb full at one time,” Mrs. Tarkington said. “We raised all eight of our chillun here, but they're all married and gone now.”

“Are they far away?” Reisa asked.

“No, not far. All except Bud and Janie. They're gone off—Bud in Pennsylvania and Janie to Massachusetts. But they come back, and we have reunions.”

Elmo laughed. “House gets plumb full. I've got fourteen grandchildren. I don't mind bein' a grandpa, but I sure hate bein' married to a granny.”

“You hush your mouth, Elmo Tarkington!” Judith said sharply. “You ought to be satisfied that I've stayed with you all these years.”

“How long have you been married, if I may ask?” Jacob said.

“Fifty-three years,” Elmo said, and winked at Jacob. “And I've enjoyed every second of it.”

Judith sniffed at this. “I can remember a few times you didn't appear to be enjoyin' it too much.”

“Well, I've got a good forgetter. Now, let's have some of that blackberry cobbler you made. Are you folks allowed to eat that?”

Indeed they were allowed, and both guests filled themselves up on the succulent cobbler that came steaming from the oven with light flaky crust. Then they washed it down with cups of coffee laced with sugar.