Jacob's Way (20 page)

That afternoon Reisa sat down and listened to Jacob and Sam talk about Jewish customs and traditions. Reisa listened with only half an ear, for she was thinking of how they would manage until Jacob regained his health. She knew they could not impose on the hospitality of Sam and Phineas forever, and more than once she thought,
What are we going to do?
Then she would pray,
Great most high God, you must guide us. I don't know what to do
.

The air turned cool, and darkness began to fall over the homestead. They ate supper together, Driver joining them at the table for the first time. After supper Driver went out and sat on the front porch with the other men. He sat for a long time listening to the other men talk, but finally they came in, leaving him there alone.

Determined to know more about Driver, Reisa went out and sat beside him. He did not speak nor did she for a time, but finally he said, “I thank you for helping me. I reckon I would have played out my string if you and Dov hadn't come along.”

It was the most gracious remark Reisa had heard from him yet, and she was surprised. “You would have done the same for us.”

“I'm not sure about that.”

“I think you would.”

“You think too well of people. They'll fail you.”

Reisa turned to face him. “Would you have me crawl into a cave, Mr. Driver, and have no friends?”

Driver shook his head. “Ben is good enough.” He said nothing for a long time, nor did she. The sound of a dog barking far off with sharp staccato rapidity broke the silence. “He's treed something, I'd guess,” Driver observed.

She felt out of place somehow sitting there with him. She was uncomfortable and did not know why.

Finally he said, “I guess I sound pretty hard to you.”

“A little bit perhaps.”

“I guess I've had a hard life. The army makes a man hard sometimes.” He seemed to be about to say something, then changed his mind, saying instead, “I don't have too many answers. Sometimes there's a little sunlight, and sometimes a memory will come. I remember a young girl no more than ten who gave me a glass of buttermilk just outside of Chancellorsville. She smiled at me and flirted a little bit. I still remember that. I guess that's all my life is. Some pictures fading out behind me, and there's not much before me.”

“There's much good in the world.”

“Maybe there is for some. There are some good men and some good women. But there are so many that are not, and it seems like that's the kind I've bumped up against.”

Reisa listened as he spoke, and for the first time she was able to see that beneath his hardness and the caustic manner he sometimes had, there was more. She could not put her finger on it, but she knew that he was a man that longed for goodness, and longed for friends, and perhaps even a wife and family. He would have denied it, she was sure.

Finally she said, “I hope you find your way, Ben. God is real, and love is real.”

She turned and moved back into the house, leaving Driver alone with his thoughts.

Fifteen

L
arge piles of white fluffy clouds raced along the azure skies overhead as Dov and Reisa walked along the dusty roads. The coolness of fall was in the air, for this was September. The hot days of August had faded, and the breath of air that came to them was cool and refreshing. They had seen the cotton fields white with harvest, and Reisa had been reminded of her dream of walking down white fields and seeing black faces. As she moved along, she was suddenly glad that she and her grandfather had followed that dream all the way south.

This trip had been moderately successful. Although cash money was scarce, they had done very well going through a small town nearby and then down lanes deeper into the rural areas. There had been a threat of rain, but it had passed away.

Within a mile of the house, Dov pointed over to his right. “Look—somebody live there.”

Reisa turned and saw a winding dirt road that led around a clump of towering pine trees, and caught a glimpse of a house with fields behind it.

“Let's make one more stop, Dov,” she said. “We've got plenty of time.”

The two made their way down the dusty road, Dov whistling a tuneless melody, as he often did. Reisa was fascinated, wondering exactly what went on in the big man's mind. He seemed simple, but he certainly was not stupid. She sensed that beneath the crude exterior dwelt a sensitive spirit.

When they emerged from the pine trees, Reisa saw a house set back behind a picket fence. It was a small house, one story, with a steep pitched roof covered with cedar shakes.

Over to one side was a pasture filled with several cows and two large horses. On the other side of the house was a cotton field now white and ready to be picked. Behind it she saw the gleam of water of what was apparently a small pond.

As they approached the house, Reisa saw no one. When she knocked on the door there was no answer. Dov called out.

Then they heard someone call. “In back.”

Reisa came down the steps and moved around the corner of the house. Dov followed her. She saw the back of a man wearing overalls. He knelt in a pen holding down a squealing pig. Moving to the fence, Reisa said, “Good evening, sir.”

Instantly the figure stood and wheeled—and Reisa saw the face. It was not a man at all but a very large woman!

Embarrassed, Reisa did not know how to make apologies. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't know—”

The woman was well over six feet tall and broad shouldered. The overalls were worn and thin and revealed the female figure. She was very large, and Reisa saw that her hands seemed to be callused like a man's.

The pig ran away squealing. Reisa said, “I didn't mean to disturb you, ma'am.”

For a moment the woman did not speak. Her blonde hair was held in place by a broad-brimmed straw hat. Her eyes were blue, as blue as any Reisa had ever seen. She kept her face turned to one side for some reason and said, “What do you want?”

“We are your neighbors. We are staying with Mr. Hall and Mr. Long.”

The woman nodded, and as she did she turned her face so that Reisa saw that she had a bad scar running from the edge of her eyebrow down to her right cheek. She pulled off her hat, and blonde hair cascaded down her back. She had an accent that did not sound like any that Reisa had heard.

Reisa said, “We are peddlers. This is my friend Dov, and my name is Reisa Dimitri.”

“I'm Hilda Swenson.”

The woman's eyes flickered away from Reisa and rested on Dov. She studied the huge man thoughtfully, then said, “You're peddlers? You're not from around here.”

“No. We are from Russia.”

“My people come from Sweden.”

“Well, we're both newcomers,” Reisa said. “If you have time, Mrs. Swenson—”

“It's not Mrs. I'm not married.”

“Oh, Miss Swenson then.”

The woman appeared to be about thirty and had fair, clear skin. Reisa had to look up to her and had never seen such a large woman—not fat, just large.

“We have quite a few things you might need for your house: spices, sewing goods, needles, thread. I have some fine ribbons that you might use in making a dress.”

“I don't need anything for making a dress.”

The door, more or less, slammed shut on that conversation, but Reisa set her pack down and began to pull out several items. It became obvious quickly that Hilda Swenson was not interested in any feminine items. She did, however, agree to some needles, several spices that were hard to come by in the stores, and a box of matches.

“That is all I need right now.”

Reisa waited until the woman went into the house and came back with some change. “Thank you very much,” she said as she pocketed the change and finished packing the items back in her pack. She did not wish to be inquisitive, but the situation was rather strange. She did not see any men working nor any women either, and she asked cautiously, “Your family is here?”

“Only my mother. She is very old. I take care of her and run the farm.”

“That must be very hard for a woman.”

“I'm a good farmer,” Hilda said quickly, as if her pride had been touched.

“I'm sure you are. It must be difficult though all by yourself to take care of a house and farm as well.”

“The Lord helps me.”

Dov suddenly said, “Maybe sometimes you need man for some things.”

Hilda looked over at Dov and considered him. She seemed fascinated by his size. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “Right now I've got a wagon loaded out in the field. The wheel came off, and I can't jack it up and put the wheel on at the same time.”

“Oh, maybe we can help with that—or at least Dov can.”

“Yes.” Dov nodded. “Show me wagon.”

For a moment the woman looked at them, then nodded shortly. “All right.”

As Reisa followed her around the house and out into the field, she noticed that Hilda Swenson walked like a man with long strides. She hurried to catch up with her, trying to make conversation, but got little response.

Finally they reached a wagon heavily loaded with fertilizer. It sagged down on the left side, and beside it Hilda had made a makeshift sort of affair to lever the wagon up into position. “I can't lift it up and put the wheel on it.”

Dov took in the situation at a glance. Ignoring the sapling that she was attempting to use for a wedge, he said, “Come. You put wheel on.”

“What are you going to do?” Hilda asked. She followed Dov to the rear of the wagon, and the wheel was on the ground beside it.

“I pick up wagon. You put wheel on.”

Hilda stared at him, but he did not wait for an answer. Moving around to the front position of the wheel, he got on his hands and knees, crawled under, then turned around. He gathered his legs up under him and said, “You ready?”

Hilda nodded shortly, but shook her head with disbelief. “You can't pick that wagon up.”

Dov began to rise up. He braced his hands against his upper thighs, and both women could see the huge muscles bulging in his thick legs. A vein stood out in his forehead, but otherwise there was no sign of strain. He lifted the wagon clear off the ground and said in a conversational tone, “Is this good?”

Hilda gasped, but she wasted no time. Quickly she snatched up the wheel, moved it into position, and slipped it on over the axle. “Now,” she said. “You can let it down.”

Dov released the weight of the wagon, and Hilda fastened the wheel in place so that it would not slip off. Turning, she looked up at the big man and said, “Thank you.” She shook her head saying, “I do not believe there is another man in the world who could pick up that wagon.”

Dov smiled at her. “Sometimes when you have things to make—” He hesitated. “No. Things that takes a strong back, you come and get me.”

Hilda seemed fascinated by Dov. She looked into his dark eyes for a long time, then said, “I will.”

“We'd better be going, Dov. It's going to be dark soon.”

“Yah. We go.”

They went back to the house, where Dov picked up his large pack and Reisa her small one. Reisa turned and said, “Thank you very much.”

“No. Thank you.” Her eyes went to Dov. “Thank you again.”

“Nothing—nothing at all,” Dov responded.

The two left the yard, and Dov turned back once to see that the woman was watching them. “Nice lady,” he said. “Very strong.”

That night Phineas had cooked potatoes with what he called sawmill gravy for some reason that neither Reisa nor Jacob understood. He had also cooked squirrel and dumplings, which neither guest had eaten before.

“These are plumb sanctified for Jews,” Sam said with assurance. “I know you can't eat rabbits and pigs, but this critter doesn't chew his cud, and he doesn't have a cloven hoof. And these dumplins' wouldn't offend Abraham hisself. “

Reisa tasted the squirrel and said, “This is fine! I've never had anything better.”

“Nobody fixes squirrel and dumplins' like Phineas,” Sam said fondly. “The trouble is, we ain't very good at gettin' the squirrels. Phineas there's a good shot, but because of his bum leg he can't go to the squirrel woods. I can get to the squirrel woods, but I can't hit much. Had that trouble all during the war. I had to get up close enough to pepper them Yankees with that La Mat of mine.”

“We met a young woman today. The house right back off the road on the west side.”

“Oh, yes. That's Hilda Swenson,” Sam said. “Fine woman.”

“She lives all alone with her mother?”

“That's right. Her pa died about four years ago. He was ailin' for a long time.”

Phineas shook his head. “Beats all how that woman works. She does the work of two men, I do believe.”

“How old would you guess she is?”

Sam winked at Dov. “How old did she look to you, Dov?”

“Don't know. Good strong woman.”

“You're right about that. I think she's thirty nearabouts.”

“She's never married?”

Sam and Phineas exchanged glances, and it was Phineas who said sourly, “She was supposed to have been married up with Fred Simmons.”

The others waited for him to continue. When he did not, Reisa said, “What happened?”

“He let it get right up to the wedding day and then left her at the church. Run off with that no-count trash Emmy Bradshaw. Three years after she married him, she took everything he had and ran off with a sign painter to St. Louis. Served him right. Nogood bum.”

“I made a mistake. When I walked up she had her back to us, and I thought it was a man.”

“Yep. She wears them overalls except on Sundays. She's got one dress, I think. That's all I've ever seen anyhow,” Sam remarked. “She wears that to meetin'.”

“How'd she get that scar on her face?” Reisa inquired.

“I don't rightly know. It's been there a long time, I think. She's right sensitive about it. Kind of keeps her hair over it when her hair's down and always turns her face away.”

Driver had taken all this in but said nothing.

He ate and then for the first time, he said, “Maybe I can help with the dishes.”

Phineas stared at him. It was the first human gesture that Driver had made with the men in earshot, but Reisa turned down his offer. “Oh, no. You men go out on the porch and talk. I don't mind doing the dishes.”

They all filed out on the porch, but there were only two chairs. Jacob sat on one and Driver in the other. The other two sat on a box and a keg that served just as well. Sam smoked a corncob pipe, and the talk floated back to Reisa. When she had finished the dishes she went out and sat beside them.

The stars were out overhead. Sam remarked, “Look at all them stars. The Good Book says God knows every one of their names.”

“Well, I know that one,” Phineas said. “You see that one with three close together and the two at the top and two at the bottom? That's what they call Orion. It's supposed to be a figure of a man—those three stars are Orion's belt.”

“Orion. Ain't that somethin'!” Sam remarked. “I wonder how far away they are.”

“Further than you can walk.” Phineas grinned.

The talk flowed to and fro, and finally Driver stood and walked off into the darkness without a word. They all watched him go.

Phineas said, “He ain't got enough talk in him to make a fullgrown man.”

“He'll get out of it. He got well, didn't he? He just needs a little encouragement,” Sam remarked.

Reisa did not speak, but later on she thought of this, wondering what would bring the tall man out of his silence.