Legacy of Silence (8 page)

So ended the first day.

L
ORE
had made a list. “Number one,” she announced, “we need a doctor for you. Number two, sell the rings. Then go to one of the aid committees Jake told about and get some advice about where to go. A small town will be cheaper.”

“I won’t get much tutoring work in a small town.”

“In a couple of months, you won’t get much work of any kind anywhere, Caroline.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“I’ll get work. I can get a job without having a nursing license. I can take care of some old sick person at home. And we ought to get good money out of the rings. We’ll sell only one of the four to start. Save the rest in case we hear from …” Lore did not finish.

In case Mama got her visa
, she meant. Instead, she
said, “Here, read this. It’s the doctor’s address. Annie said we’ll need a taxi.”

“You told her about me?”

“I told her nothing except that you haven’t been feeling right. She called the doctor before she went to work this morning.”

Caroline looked around the little parlor, to which the Sandlers referred as the “front room.” The table had been folded up, and for the last two days, ever since their first dinner, they had all been eating in the kitchen as “part of the family,” Jake said. The meagerness of the parlor, with its maroon three-piece set of sofa and matching chairs, its tired-looking rug and ugly, bulky radio, saddened her now and she said so.

She touched her heart. “I feel so sad for them.”

“Sad? Why should you?”

“Because they’re so wonderful and kind, and it’s not fair for them to be poor.”

“Poor!” cried Lore. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t the slightest idea what poverty is.”

She spoke so sharply that Caroline was taken aback. But then, she reminded herself, Lore is apt to do that sometimes, though only to me, never of course to Father and Mama.

“Being poor, Caroline, is having no job, no roof over your head, and nothing to eat.”

Rebuked, she said nothing. Clearly, she still had a great deal more to learn about the world. And, heavy with all her anxieties, she rode in the taxi beside
Lore, whose silence must have been as anxious as her own.

Suddenly, Lore spoke. “You look terrified. But it may all be a false alarm. That often happens. By the way, the doctor’s a woman. That should make it easier for you.”

Yes, it would. But she was certain that the alarm was real. Her morning nausea, though it was lessening, had not left her. It was with her now as the cab lurched through traffic and bucked to a final stop before a building as unhappy-looking as a courthouse or an unemployment office.

The doctor was gray-haired, plain, and shrewd. She saw at once that Caroline was trembling, and Caroline knew she had seen it.

“Sit down,” she said easily. “I’m told you don’t have any trouble with English. That’s a big help for me. I don’t know any languages, although my grandparents did come from Europe. You’ve just come from there, too, I understand.”

Annie Sandler had reported everything. You couldn’t blame people for having, along with charity, some curiosity, some sense of the great drama that was playing in Europe. They had no way of knowing what anguish it brought to keep describing it, again and again. And she hoped that this doctor would not ask a hundred questions.

The doctor said, “I read the papers and all the reports every day, so I have a fair idea of what you’re going through. And I’m not going to bring up the
subject, especially since there’s nothing you can do about it right now, anyway. Tell me instead why you are here. Something about your nausea, is it?”

Caroline nodded. She saw the woman glance at her left hand. There was no sense in playing games. Come out with the truth. Get it over with.

“I think I might be pregnant,” she said, and blurted then, “Oh God, I hope not.”

“Well, we’ll simply have to have a look, won’t we.”

An inner door was partly open, revealing a cold whiteness: chrome, shining objects behind glass doors, sheets on a high, narrow table. The doctor, still observing Caroline, caught the glance; she caught everything.

“Have you ever had an examination?” she asked. “No? Well, don’t be afraid of it. There’s no pain. It’s only a little bit uncomfortable. So we’ll start with that.”

And here it was. “Next spring, around the middle of March, you’ll be a mother, Caroline.”

A mother
. On the way to the shops, you passed the maternity hospital. “It was a lovely summer morning,” Mama said. “You came at eight o’clock, in time for breakfast. We took you home in a yellow dress and cap. Not pink. I wanted to be different. So many friends came to see you. The house was full of people and presents wrapped in tissue paper.”

A mother has a home and friends and time to care
about the color of the baby clothes. A mother has a ring. She has the man who put it on her finger.

“Are you all right?” asked the doctor.

“I’ll have to be.” She wiped her eyes angrily, roughly, with the back of her hand. “I’m so ashamed. What a clumsy thing to do with one’s life. I’m so ashamed.”

The doctor, handing her a tissue, spoke mildly. “I know. In your milieu it’s not supposed to happen. But it happens.”

Your milieu
. She sees my dress, Caroline thought, the proper, dark summer dress that one wears in the city. No doubt things are the same here as at home. People recognize each other’s differences the way Jake recognized my accent.

“Your parents, if things go well for them, and I pray that they will, will not cast you away, my dear. It will be hard for you all, but it will work out. In the meantime, take very good care of yourself. If you move away from here, find a doctor and do what you’re told. You’re a beautiful young woman, and beauty always helps.”

“So?” asked Lore when they were out on the sidewalk.

“So, you were right.”

“I thought so.”

Caroline lowered her head. In a few months’ time, she would most likely not even be able to see her feet.

“I’ve made a mess of things,” she said.

“Well, it happened, and there’s no sense mourning over it.”

On the return ride they were quiet again. A hot wind, bearing grit and smelling of chemicals, blew in at the windows. The streets were doleful. This was not the other New York of the photographs, the leafy avenues and grand vistas through which they had passed a few days ago.

“We need to think about money,” Lore said. “That’s number two on the list.”

“I should think we have to see the refugee committee about where to go.”

They couldn’t possibly stay here. The poorest little town, a log cabin—did they still have log cabins in America?—with trees and grass and sky, would make it easier to bear whatever would have to be borne.

“First we need money. No matter what they say about it, we owe the Sandlers a little something. Then, no matter where we go, we’ll need to pay rent. I wonder whether Jake has any idea how we can best sell the rings. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has. He’s a practical man.”

“Practical like you, Lore. What would I do here without you? I’m a useless dependent, a fool, a burden even to myself.” And there in the taxicab, Caroline broke into soundless weeping.

O
N
a pillow, gathering all the room’s meager light, lay the four rings. There was a sapphire, two diamonds—one of them glorious even to an amateur’s eyes, the other less so—and a ruby. Lore caressed them one by one.

“Your mama said she had always loved rubies. She called them lovers’ gems. Heart’s blood, she said. I think it hurt your father that he couldn’t let her keep this.”

When Lore put it on her own finger, it went only as far as the knuckle. “My hands are too big. You try it. Hold your hand up, so I can see.”

It meant nothing to Caroline. A sparkle, that was all. It was hard to believe that this small object could be worth more than a decent house.

“Which do you like better, Caroline, this or the round diamond? It’s almost flawless, worth a fortune.”

“To tell you the truth, I can easily do without either. I can name a few things I need much more. Things like a peaceful mind.”

Lore put the rings away and sighed. “Well, some lucky women are going to be wearing them. I asked Jake for advice about selling them. He’s got a friend who’ll come over this week and price them for us. He works for one of the best jewelry stores in the city. Then we’ll know enough not to be cheated.”

“I’ll leave it to you, Lore. It’s not that I’m lazy. I just can’t seem to think. My brain’s sick.” She flung herself down on the bed. “Oh, Lore, I don’t want
this baby. I don’t want any baby now, but especially not this one. What shall I do with it? Will I hate it? I’m afraid I will, because I hate it now. I hate the way it was—was made.”

The little grove. Crickets and stars and sweet grass. Made for lovers, he said, lying to me, using me.

“With each minute that goes by, my hatred grows. Do you understand? I shall never, never trust a man again as long as I live.”

“No, no, you don’t mean that. Think about your father. And Dr. Schmidt. And Jake Sandler. You can tell by looking at Annie what a good man Jake is.”

Caroline gave a bitter laugh. “What are you trying to do, persuade me to find a husband?”

“You’re laughing. Actually, that’s what Annie said you need.”

“What? You’ve told Annie?” She sprang up off the bed, screaming at Lore. “You had no right! This trouble is my business, not Annie’s or anybody’s. You had no right to shame me so—” Anger cut off her words.

“Now look here,” Lore said calmly. “It’s also my business. Don’t forget that. Can you imagine yourself here alone? Your parents wanted me to be a protection for you, and they didn’t even know the half of it, did they? We’re going to need a lot of help before we’re through, Caroline. Let’s not be so independent. This is a big country, and we’re lost in it the minute we step out of this front door.”

Chastened, Caroline said only, “It’s that—what can she think of me?”

“That you’re in trouble. That’s all she thinks. You’ve seen for yourself what kind of people these are.”

“I don’t believe there’s anything more they can do for us than they are already doing.”

“We don’t know that yet. Now go fix your eyes, if you can, so they won’t see you’ve been crying. Act natural. Nobody’s going to say a word. I’m going in to make the dinner. After a woman works all day, it’s nice not to have to make dinner. That’s the least I can do.”

“That’s what you said in Switzerland.”

“Well, it’s the truth. Also, I’m going to ask Jake how soon his jeweler friend can come over.”

The next evening, after the table was cleared, the rings were brought out and displayed there on a napkin.

Annie was awestruck. “Can you imagine wearing a diamond like this? I’ve never seen anything like it that wasn’t fake.”

“If you’ll be satisfied with a fake, I’ll buy you one tomorrow,” Jake said. He liked to give his wife a little teasing. “Who’d know the difference except my friend Vinnie here?”

“Who?” said Vinnie, who was squinting into the loupe. “Plenty of people. On Fifth Avenue they know the difference.”

To Caroline, Lore whispered anxiously, “What is he saying? I can’t understand him.”

“Nothing yet. I’ll tell you when he does.”

Caroline’s thoughts, unlike Lore’s, were not wholly involved with the rings. There had been no response to their cabled message to the Schmidts, which meant that there was no news of Mama and Father. This chilled her body from head to feet. A moment later, as she remembered that the Sandlers now knew all about her, she felt waves of heat. Standing there so close within their view, she might just as well be naked before them.

“Stop biting your lips,” Lore whispered.

Vinnie removed the loupe. “What did you pay for these, if I may ask?”

Lore handed him a slip of paper. “I have it here. Mrs. Hartzinger wrote it all out.”

Mama’s handwriting was said to be distinctive. “Artistic,” people remarked of its flourishes and shadings. It occurred to Caroline that she possessed no sample of this writing. The books with their loving inscriptions had been left behind, and there were no letters. Perhaps there would never be any letters.… But she must take hold of herself. It was wrong even to have such a thought, let alone to dwell on it. Father and Mama would survive. A combination of his hopeful courage and her caution would see them safely through anything. It could. It would.

Vinnie examined the figures. “What is this, marks or dollars?”

“Marks,” Lore told him. “Where would they get dollars?”

Vinnie frowned. “To tell the truth, it doesn’t make any difference. You’ve paid top prices, ladies, for nothing.”

“You mean that Mama paid too much?”

“I mean that your mother was robbed. The diamonds aren’t worth a lot more than top-quality costume jewelry. The only thing that has any real value is the ruby, although it’s not first class, by any means.”

“It’s not possible,” Caroline murmured. “Not possible for people to be so cruel.”

The others just stood there stunned, and Lore, reading their expressions and needing no further explanation, put her face in her hands.