Jacob's Way (14 page)

“We are all interested, are we not? When he comes, he will do great things in Israel.”

“Yes, that is true, but there is little agreement among our people. What is your own feeling?”

“I have thought much on this and searched the Scriptures. It seems,” he said, “there are two Messiahs.”

“Two Messiahs!” Tichler was startled. “How do you mean, Jacob?”

“One set of Scriptures seems to identify a victorious Messiah who will come with power and might. The other set of Scriptures speak of one who suffers greatly.”

“Yes. That is true, and it has been a trouble to me. I cannot put these two together.”

“Nor can I,” Jacob sighed.

As the two men talked, Reisa worked through their bags. She was constantly rearranging them so that the goods could be more easily packed and unpacked with speed. She knew there would be times when people could buy nothing—but one could never know.

Dov sat cross-legged watching her. Finally he said, “We leave soon?”

“Tomorrow morning we will be on our way,” Reisa smiled.

After breakfast the following morning, Rabbi Tichler drove them out of the city of Norfolk and put them on the main road heading west. He blessed them as they left and promised again that their trunks would be safe.

Reisa, Jacob, and Dov traveled hard all morning, stopping many times at houses along the main road. The day was difficult. Reisa was shocked by the poverty of most of the people. They passed the skeletons of many houses. Only the chimneys were left, pointing like a finger toward the sky. Many of the fields were grown up in weeds, and those homesteads where they stopped reflected great poverty.

“We'll ask for a place to stay at this house. It's a nice one and very big,” Reisa said late that afternoon. Jacob, she saw, was almost too tired to talk. His bag was very light, for she had arranged it that way. Dov, of course, carried the huge pack as if it were stuffed with feathers. He never showed signs of fatigue.

As they approached the house, a man and a woman came out. Following them were two half-grown children. The man's eyes studied them carefully. “Howdy,” he said. “How goes it with you?”

“Very well, sir,” Reisa said. “We were wondering if you would like to look at our goods. Perhaps we'd have something you might like.”

“My name is Carson. This is my wife, Nellie. You look beat. Why don't you come in and rest yourselves?”

“That's very kind of you, sir,” Jacob said faintly.

Carson's eyes narrowed. “You aren't from around here.”

“No. We do not speak English well,” Reisa said.

“What language do you speak?”

“Well—Yiddish, Hebrew, and Russian, and very poor English.”

“Glory be!” Carson's eyes flew open. “You speak all them?”

“I wish we spoke English a little better,” Jacob said.

“Then you folks be Hebrews.”

“Yes, indeed,” Jacob said.

“Well, welcome to you. Look, Nellie, these are God's chosen people! Come inside. You'll stay with us tonight and take dinner. We've got plenty of room.”

This freely offered hospitality cheered Reisa, and she said warmly, “Thank you so very much, Mr. Carson.”

The rest of the day was a delight for all three of the travelers. They were escorted into the house, their packs were placed in one corner of a spacious parlor, and Boris was given the run of the house.

“We always like cats,” Mrs. Carson said. “And I lost mine of twelve years last week.”

“Maybe he can catch a few of them rats while you're visitin',” Carson grinned.

Reisa, Jacob, and Dov were able to wash the dust off their faces and hands, and then they were invited to sit down to a dinner.

The table was round and made of heavy oak. Mrs. Carson covered it with dishes, and Mr. Carson said, “It says in the old Bible that you Jewish people can't eat just anything. Do you see anything here you can eat?”

“Oh, yes!” Jacob said quickly. “There's plenty here.” There was stewed chicken, beets, squash, corn on the cob, and fresh baked bread.

The meal was punctuated by questions, mostly by Mr. Carson. Reisa answered most of them, explaining why they had left Russia and telling about their stay in New York.

After the meal was over, Carson said, “Let them dishes be, wife. We don't have God's chosen people every day! As a matter of fact, I don't know as I ever seen a Jew before. You don't happen to have a Bible in real Hebrew?”

“Yes, indeed, I do.”

“I'd admire to hear you read out of it.”

“That will be simple enough.” Jacob smiled.

They adjourned to the living room, where for the rest of the evening Jacob and Reisa entertained the family. Jacob read from the Jewish Scripture, and Reisa spoke a great deal of Hebrew. This fascinated the Carsons. Soon Carson had his own Bible out, and he would open it to a passage and say, “Read that for me in Hebrew, Rabbi.”

Jacob had given up trying to explain that he was not a rabbi and simply accepted the title. He would read the passage in Hebrew and then give what he thought was the English translation. Then Carson would read from his own Bible and many times would exclaim, “Why, it's the same, ain't it now!”

Reisa unpacked her own pack and found gifts for all of the family. When Carson offered to pay, she said, “No. This is a gift.”

She gave the master of the house a new razor and he said, “I'll keep it as long as I live and pass it along to Henry here.” For Mrs. Carson there was a brooch that she admired greatly. For the boy who was no more than twelve a fine jackknife, and for the girl a small lightweight doll that fit into her hand.

Finally Mrs. Carson said, “We've kept you up, and I know you're tired. You go to bed now. When you get up in the morning we'll have a good breakfast.”

All three of the travelers went to their beds, and Reisa lay down with Boris next to her as usual. He purred and nudged her until finally she embraced him and kissed his nose. “Good night, Boris. It's been a good day.”

That day at the Carsons was the best day that they had. From that point on the country seemed to grow poorer. The closer they got to Richmond, the worse the situation.

“These people have almost nothing,” Reisa murmured. “The war ruined them. I don't know how we shall do.”

Jacob agreed. “But we are here. The great God above will take care of us.”

The next night they could find only an abandoned house with most of the roof caved in, but at least they were inside. The following night they had little success, and at dusk slept out under the stars. This was no hardship for Reisa, but she regretted that they could find nothing better for her grandfather.

On the third day they stopped, for the first time, at the home of ex-slaves. The woman that came to greet them had a baby on her hip, one clinging to her skirt, and one about six years old. Reisa introduced herself and asked if the woman would like to look at some things.

The woman stared at her silently, her dark eyes fathomless. “I'm Martha. Martha Grimes. These is my chilluns, and my husband, he's workin'.”

“Well, Mrs. Grimes,” Reisa said, “I have some very nice things here.”

“We ain't got no money. Not much anyways.”

“Then you just might like to look,” Reisa said. She wanted to know more about how black people felt and opened her pack. Martha Grimes kept looking at Dov and Jacob, who waited just outside the gate.

“Is that your daddy?”

“No. My grandfather.”

“He look tired. I wonder would he drink a glass of sassafras tea, maybe?”

“That would be so kind of you,” Reisa said warmly.

Indeed, the Grimes had little money, Reisa saw. They did buy a few things for a few coins, and Reisa gave the two older children small gifts.

“You ain't got no caps, is you?”

“I have some in my friend's pack. Dov, come here.”

Dov came at once, and the children stared up with wonder in their eyes.

“He big, ain't he?” Mrs. Grimes said.

“Yes, he is, but he's very nice.”

Dov opened the pack, and Reisa dug out three caps. “These are only fifty cents apiece.” She saw disappointment in the woman's eyes and added hastily, “But you can have one for twenty-five cents.”

“That be fine! My husband been wantin' a cap.” She took the cap and ran her hands over it, then said, “Don't reckon you got a weddin' ring?”

Reisa nodded. “Yes. I have just two.” She went to her own pack and took out the rings that she had wrapped carefully. The black woman took one of them and ran her hands over the smooth metal silently. When she looked up grief was in her eyes. “I ain't got no money for one of these, but some day I get me one.” She handed the ring back.

Reisa had an impulse to give her the ring, but it was too expensive. “Maybe I will come back, and we can work out something,” she said.

Mrs. Grimes gave them all glasses of buttermilk. “We got plenty,” she said. “Got two good cows comin' in fresh.” She was silent for a time and then said, “You don't come from around here.”

“No. We're from Russia.”

“You know about the slaves?”

“Oh, yes. But you're not slaves anymore.”

“No, not now, but all them years we wasn't let to marry. Now since we been set free by Mr. Linkum, the first thing Zeke and I do is get married. I be married, but I ain't got no ring.”

An idea began to form in Reisa's mind. She said nothing of it, but after they had left the household and made their way down the road, she filed the thought away.

It grew very late, and Jacob, Reisa saw, could go no further. There was no house on the main road, but she looked down a side road and there under a covering of tall pine trees was a house. “There must be some place that we could stay. A barn maybe,” she said.

Jacob's face was pale. It was nearly a quarter of a mile to the house. “I'll wait here, Granddaughter. I—can't go any further.”

Dov stepped forward and without a word picked Jacob up in his arms. “I carry you,” he said.

Jacob smiled faintly. “Makes me feel like a baby.”

“Come, Dov. We must find some place before dark.”

Dov carried the huge pack and the form of Jacob easily. Reisa was concerned, for she was worried about spending the night under the open skies. As she approached the house, she saw a man with only one leg who was chopping wood. He turned at once and fastened his eyes upon them. As she approached, Reisa greeted him, “Good evening, sir.”

The one-legged man did not answer, but at that moment another man came out of the door of the cabin. He was lacking his right arm. He had a cheerful look on his face. Approaching, he said, “Well, you travelers are out mighty late, and you look a little bit peaked.”

“My grandfather isn't well.”

“Well, bring him in the house. Phineas, why don't you go cook up some grub while I make these folks comfortable.”

Phineas did not seem to take kindly to this. “You don't know nothin' about them,” he said in a surly fashion. “They may be robbers.”

“Now don't act up like that!” Turning to them, he said, “My name's Sam Hall. This here's my partner, Phineas Long. Y'all come in now.”

It was a two-story house with windows in the gables. As Reisa stepped in, she found herself inside a rather spacious kitchen with a fireplace that took up almost the whole end of the room. Beside the fireplace sat a blackened kitchen woodstove and on the other side a large cabinet stocked with food.

“You folks come on and set,” Hall said pleasantly.

Reisa gave her name, then introduced her grandfather and Dov.

“Well, you are a nice-sized fellow! Put Mr. Dimitri right here while we get some grub cooking.”

Dov put Jacob down and then stood up and nodded, saying gutturally, “Dank you ver' much.”

“Maybe you folks would like to wash up,” Sam said. “And you can't go no further tonight.” He laughed saying, “There ain't no place to go. Plenty of room here though, ain't there, Phineas?”