The Auerbach Will (22 page)

“I understand all this. Now they want to expand.”

“Yes, and they've just been given—by the government, again—a wonderful new
means
to expand.” She took a deep breath, and played her trump card. “Have you read in the papers, earlier this year, about still
another
new postal service called Parcel Post? Small merchants in little towns all across the country were up in arms against it, swearing that Parcel Post would drive them out of business. But they lost their fight, and Parcel Post went into effect the first of this year. Think of what that means, Mother Auerbach! Eighty-five percent of our population lives in rural areas, on farms. Up until the first of this year, if a farmer wanted to collect a package that was too big for his rural mailbox, he had to hitch up his horse and wagon and drive miles to the nearest freight depot. Now that package comes to his doorstep! Think what this will mean to the mail-order business, Mother Auerbach—to the future—”

“Of course I've read about Parcel Post,” Lily said. “It doesn't prove very useful to our business. Most of our customers are here in the city, and we do our own local delivery.”

“But think of what it will mean to the
mail-order
business, Mother Auerbach—what it could mean for a company like Eaton and Cromwell!”

“Yes, I see what you mean,” said Lily.

“Mother Auerbach, this could be Jake's big chance—the chance to get in on the ground floor of a company where the future is practically unlimited, where he could be his own boss. Just think—your only son, with a business all his own, which is bound to grow! For fifty thousand dollars, he can buy twenty-five percent of this business. I'm here to ask you if you can loan him that much. A loan, with interest, which I swear to you will be paid. That's why I'm here, Mother Auerbach. Will you help him? Please?”

Lily Auerbach rose from the sofa and began slowly pacing about the room in her white robe.

“Esther,” she said after a moment or two, “speaking of things that are in the papers, there is something I've been meaning to ask you. Last summer, in the papers, there was quite a sordid scandal on the Lower East Side, and one of the people involved was named Litsky. Would that have been any sort of relative of yours?”

“If it was in the Chicago papers, I didn't read about it,” Essie said.

“The young man's name I believe was Abraham Litsky. Don't you have a brother by that name?”

“It's a very common name,” Essie said. Then she added, “But my brother lives in Chicago.”

“I see,” Lily said. “It was all quite—sordid.” She hesitated. Then she said, “Esther, I want you to understand that it's not the money. Whatever the sum was that you mentioned.”

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

“Whatever. It's not the money. Esther, you see, there are some things that you may not realize about our family, and there is no reason why you should. There are things which not even Jake has fully realized—yet. You mentioned the name of Richard”—she pronounced it
Reek-hard
—“Rosenthal, who was my grandfather. You could not possibly have known Richard Rosenthal, who died in eighteen seventy-five, but I remember him very well. He was a wonderful man, with the most wonderful, sparkly blue eyes, a wonderful human being. He was loved and respected by everyone, both socially and in the business community of New York. I remember Grandpa, and how proud he was of the business he founded. He had worked so hard, against so many pressures—not knowing the language when he came from Germany, and social pressures that existed at the time because there was, well, some anti-Semitism in New York in those days. And yet he overcame all that, and even Mr. J. P. Morgan was his customer and friend. I have the little thank-you notes Mr. Morgan used to write to Grandpa every time he ordered a new suit. Mr. Morgan always asked for Grandpa when he came into the store. He'd let no one else wait on him.” Lily continued pacing.

“Grandpa built Rosenthal's into one of the most respected names in retailing. This was his legacy, to New York and to us. And Grandpa was so proud to have a son, my father, to carry on. Richard Rosenthal's shoes were not easy for Daddy to fill, but Daddy did it, and did it superbly, adding even greater luster to the Rosenthal name. I wish you had known my father, too, who died—too young—in 1900. But Daddy died proud that he had two strong sons, Sol and Mort, who wanted to carry it on—Richard Rosenthal's dream. You see, it was an American dream, Esther, an American dream come true—that a poor immigrant German could create something for his family which would allow his family to walk tall, and proud, and hold its head high as an equal among the Christians. It was a great achievement, given the times.

“My two brothers, unfortunately, though both brilliant men, were neither one cut out for marriage. Don't ask me why, but neither Sol nor Mort has shown, ever, the slightest interest in a woman. But both have devoted their lives to the continuation of Grandpa's dream, to reinforcing that reputation the family has gained of honesty, integrity, public service, responsibility. That mantle—that shining mantle—has been passed on from generation to generation.

“Which brings us to myself. I would have loved to have had more children. But Jake's was a difficult birth for me, and after it was over I was told that I could have no more.…”

The child of a shameful union, Essie thought.

“And so now there is only Jake. Jake
must
carry the torch for the family now. As I see it, he has no choice. For Jake to cast it aside would make meaningless—a mockery—of everything that has gone before. This is something rare and precious that has been passed on to him, and he must learn to recognize it as the treasure it is. Now you have a little son. Every day, I look at his photograph in its silver frame, and think that, yes, it must be he who, once the importance of this has been instilled in him by Jake, must carry on from him, continuing the dy——” She broke off.

“The dynasty,” Essie said.

Lily laughed. “Dynasty—that's not a very pretty word to use, is it? It sounds as though we thought of ourselves as the Russian czars or something. No, it's not that, it's the
family
. It's an American family, created and established by one strong and idealistic man, Richard Rosenthal. This heritage cannot be flung aside. It's like a religion. You may not think us very pious Jews, Esther, but in our own way we are. The family is our religion.”

She came and sat by Essie on the loveseat again, and covered Essie's hand with hers. “I'm fond of you,” she said. “And I always believed that you would help Jake find himself, and see his way to doing what he has to do. I think I told you once about Doctor Bergler, the famous alienist whom we had consult with Jake—one of the finest, if not
the
finest doctor in the country. Doctor Bergler addressed himself to this problem of Jake's, and he told us that it would probably take time for Jake to realize his destiny, the importance of what earlier generations have left him with, the duty and responsibility he has inherited. He
will
realize it, Doctor Bergler told us. He has to. I remember Doctor Bergler's words exactly. He said, ‘It's in his blood and in his bones and in his genes. It is only a matter of time before it is in his mind as well.' I thought that was a very wise thing he said. And so you see, dear child, that Jake is a link in a chain—a chain that cannot be broken. If Jake should break it, what will have been the point of any of it? My brothers, my father, and my grandfather might just as well have never set their footsteps on this planet.”

“You're condemning him to a life he hates,” Essie said.

Lily raised her eyebrows slightly. “You may think of it as a condemnation,” she said. “But we see it as a gift, a heritage that he has been given to fulfill, and make even more illustrious.”

“He won't—not this way.”

“But Doctor Bergler has already been proven right,” Lily said. “True, Jake's profits in the first year of the Chicago store were not spectacular. But each year, I've noticed, they get a little better, as he gets better at doing what's in his blood and bones and genes. Until someday—you'll see—”

“So you're saying no to the money,” Essie said.

“My dear, what else can I say? I have no choice. Would you ask me to help break the link in the chain? To bring down everything that has been built up so carefully, painstakingly, over all these years? You can't ask me to do that.” She fixed her clear blue eyes on Essie. “No. Absolutely. You cannot ask me to do that. Someday, perhaps when you're older, when your own son is older, you'll understand.”

“I wonder if I will.”

“My dear, darling child—I know I have omitted asking much about my grandchildren. You cannot think I am so remiss as not to think about them at all. You may think I've barely acknowledged them—with a few checks, on birthdays and such. Forgive me for this. But there's more to it than that—my deepest feelings. I remember so well what Dr. Bergler said when he was treating Jake. His words compel me—he said, ‘Let go of your child and let it grow.' And if he's to grow, so will his children—for that I hope and pray.”

Lily Auerbach stood up again. “There's only one other thing,” she said. “If it's making a lot of money that you—and Jake—are thinking of, remember that if Jake continues to apply himself, then, when I am gone, and when my brothers are both gone, Jake will be a reasonably rich man. I mean, if he continues to apply himself, where else would there be for it to go except to Jake, and you, and your children? But there's more than money that he must inherit first, and that's the stewardship that was Richard Rosenthal's greatest legacy to all of us.”

Lily Auerbach spread her hands. “If, at that point, after we're all gone, he chooses to break the chain and abdicate the stewardship,” she said, “at least none of us will be around to see it happen, to witness the tragedy.”

From the loveseat Essie looked up at her mother-in-law. She had never been sure of her feelings toward Lily—whether she hated, admired, pitied or envied her. It was probably a mixture of all these feelings, and she could still draw amusement from envisioning Lily supine across the dented lids of garbage cans, and she smiled at the picture now. “Yes,” she said, “I suppose I see the logic of what you're saying. How you can speak of chains and freedom in the same breath. How you can quote Doctor Bergler about letting him go, and keep him tied down at the same time. I can see the logic of it because you don't really want him to succeed, do you? Because you've always thought of him as a mistake—your only mistake, your only embarrassment. His even being born was a mistake, wasn't it? He's a mistake that can never be corrected, in your mind. What a terrible thing he must have done to you, Mother Auerbach, just by being born. Of course you can't forgive him—or yourself—for that.”

The muscles of Lily Auerbach's face stiffened and her eyes narrowed. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she said, “but we don't want to turn this meeting into a quarrel, do we?”

“Certainly not,” said Essie, reaching for her purse and gloves to go.

“Dear Mama,” Essie said, when her mother had composed herself from the shock of seeing her and they sat in the little store on Norfolk Street while Minna dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron. “You have three beautiful grandchildren. Little Jake is in the first grade already, and his teacher writes that he is very well-behaved and quick to learn. The little girls are still at home with me. Joan is dark, like me, and Babette is fair, like Jake's mother. They never quarrel. Oh, Mama, how I wish you could come to Chicago to see them.”

“Oh, no. Too far. Chicago is too far away. Maybe when they are older, they can come to see me.”

“Of course.”

“And how is Abe? Have you seen him?”

“We see him often, Mama. He is doing very well.”

“Good. I had a feeling that was where he'd go.”

“What did Abe
do
, Mama? I know it was something about gambling.”

“Ha!” said Minna. “God knows what he did. If you believe what the cops said, there was more to it than that. But who believes what the cops said? The cops said girls—bad girls. Abe had bad friends, bad boys, that was the trouble—Italians. They got him into it. There was one boy named Corelli. He went to prison. It is better for Abe in Chicago, I think—away from those Italians.”

“Yes.”

“And how is Jake?”

“Working very hard, Mama. There was a chance that he might have been able to go into business on his own. It was one of the reasons I came to New York—to ask his family if they would loan us money to buy into this new business, along with Abe.”

“What kind of business?”

“Medicines, drugs.”

Minna nodded. “Ah, that's a good business,” she said. “Doctors—God knows they charge enough.”

“But his family said no.”

“Ah, they're tightfisted, those
Deitch
—tightfisted, except when it's one of their charities they give to so they can get their pictures in the
Tageblatt.
”

They sat in silence for a while, and then Essie said, “How's Papa?”

“Growing older, God bless him.”

“Is he upstairs now?”

Minna nodded.

“Do you think I could go up and see him, Mama?”

Minna shook her head. “No, no. Save yourself the trouble.”

“I thought it might make him happy to hear about his grandchildren,” Essie said.

“No, no. Don't you understand? He doesn't want to be made happy because he
is
happy. This is happiness for him absolutely, this misery. Leave him to his misery, his happiness, the suffering Jew.”

“I see.”

There was another silence, and then Minna said, “This medicine business—it would be with Abe, too?”