The Family Moskat (39 page)

She went out and let the door close on the snap lock. She began to hurry down the dark staircase, but slowed her pace. She had better be careful; she might fall. She felt a pain in her left breast.

"If only I don't die before I get to Krochmalna Street!" She passed Fishel's store. The glass-paned doors were already locked, but a gaslight burned inside. A dim glow fell on the greasy walls, the stone floor, the casks and vats, the tin containers. Fishel was not to be seen. He was probably somewhere in the back. Gnoyna Street was crowded. Faces flashed by, half-hidden in the shadows. Newsboys were hawking another extra; Hadassah could see the enormous scareheads on the page, but she couldn't make out what the words were. How the people were snatching the papers! How adroitly the newsboy was making change! A coin fell on the sidewalk; she could hear the sharp ring. A porter passed her, an enormous load strapped to his shoulders. A baker's boy, in a patched shirt and long drawers, balanced a tray on his head, with fresh-baked cakes on it. Who had scattered these apples on the sidewalk? It was a policeman. He was poking with the point of his boot into a basket, and the peddler woman was weeping. Children were scrambling for the apples. Hadassah hurried on to the end of Krochmalna Street. Asa Heshel was not there. Had she imagined the whole thing? Suddenly she caught sight of him. The way she remembered him, yet somehow changed. He had grown taller, and somewhat fuller. He had a foreign look about him.

"Hadassah!"

"Asa Heshel!"

They were both silent.

For a moment she hesitated, then she embraced him. Her face became hot and moist. She kissed his cheek and he kissed her on the brow. She felt the salt taste on her lips. People stopped to stare. They were not far from Fishel's store, but that did not occur to her now. She grasped both his hands.

"Come."

"Where?"

-

248-"Come with me."

"You mean to Usefov?"

Hadassah was not aware of what she was saying or of what he was asking her.

A droshky passed by. She waved and the driver brought it to a stop. She climbed in, banging her knee against the step. Asa Heshel hesitated for a moment, then got in after her. The driver turned around.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Just drive ahead," Hadassah said. "Anywhere."

"To Lazhenki Park?"

"Yes."

The driver wheeled the droshky about. Hadassah lost her balance and swayed. She clutched Asa Heshel's sleeve. Everything seemed to be turning around--the sky, the rows of buildings, the street lamps.

"When did you come?"

"Monday. Today."

"Today's Wednesday."

"I was in Shvider. At her mother's. I mean at her stepfather's."

Hadassah was silent; it was as though she were pondering some hidden meaning in what he had just said. For the moment she had forgotten that he had come back to Poland with Adele, and that Rosa Frumetl lived in Shvider with her new husband.

"Now we'll be together. For always."

"Yes. For always."

"No one will separate us."

"No one."

The droshky swayed, as if it were going downhill. They were driving past the Saxon Gardens. Sparks of light glowed and died among the thickness of the tree branches and foliage. There was a crescent moon in the sky; a star shone brightly. Only a few hours before, Hadassah had been here; now they were different streets, different lamps, different trees. The droshky rolled on. The moon raced ahead. The hindquarters of the horse rose and fell. Two girls carried huge bunches of flowers. Dear God, how many moths there were flying about those lampposts! And what shadows they threw! And the perfume of the acacias. "This is the happiest moment of my life," Hadassah thought. She suddenly remembered that he was to have met her in Usefov.

Were you in Usefov?"

-

249-"Twice. The woman told me you'd left." "I'd been waiting for you." "I couldn't understand. Why didn't you stay there?" "Because--never mind. We're together now.

Until death." "If they don't take me into the army."

"Please God, no. Take off your hat. I want to see you."

She pulled off his hat. It tumbled down and she bent to get it. Asa Heshel bent down too. The droshky swerved to the side. For a moment the two seemed to be suspended in mid-air. The momentum almost flung them to the floor. They held on to each other. The driver pulled on the reins and brought the drosbky to a halt. He turned and pulled his cap to the side of his head, looking at them with the good-natured patience of one who is used to the foolishness of enamored couples, especially in the summer evenings.

"Careful," he said. "You'll tumble out."

Hadassah looked at him with a radiant expression on her face.

"Forgive us," she said. "We're just so happy."

3

The droshky turned into Marshalkovska Street and went past the Vienna Station. The clock in the station tower showed fifteen minutes to eleven, but the square was as crowded as though the evening were still young. The tramcars were packed. Droshkies rolled along in all directions. The sidewalks were jammed. Men in light-colored suits and straw hats, swinging canes jauntily, sauntered along with girls in flowered dresses, white gloves, and hats bedecked with blossoms and cherries. In the light of the electric lamps the bare arms and throats of the women seemed extraordinarily livid. Beneath wide hat brims and behind veils their eyes glowed with a midsummer amorousness. Asa Heshel had never seen Warsaw in the summer. The city seemed to him vaster, richer, and more elegant. Hardly two weeks had gone by since he had left Switzerland, but he felt that he had been traveling for months. Ever since his visit to Tereshpol Minor he had not had a decent night's sleep. First there had been the endless rides in trains and wagons.

Then there had been the night he spent with Adele at a hotel on Nalevki Street. She had quarreled with him until dawn. He had let her talk him into going with her to -250-Shvider, to the

house where her mother was staying with her new husband, Wolf Hendlers. When he had got there, Rosa Frumetl immediately started to upbraid him. Adele had gone off into hysterics. Wolf Hendlers, too, had chided him for his behavior.

Twice he had gone to Usefov to find Hadassah. The first time he had been unable to locate the cottage. The second time the caretaker had told him that Hadassah had left. When he returned to Shvider he saw Adele getting off the same train. She had apparently trailed him. She had grabbed him by the arm on the platform and had screamed at him: "Now I know everything. You dog!" She had yelled and sobbed. He had taken to his heels and had not stopped running until he reached Falenitz. There he had caught a train to Warsaw. He had at once telephoned to Hadassah's house but had got no answer. He had gone to Gina's.

She welcomed him warmly, but was unable to provide him with a room. She had taken him to a flat where two girls, seamstresses, lived, and they consented to rent him a dark room.

All this he blurted out to Hadassah in broken phrases.

"What kind of seamstresses?" she asked. "I don't understand the whole thing."

"Gina didn't have any place for me. All of her rooms were taken."

"Why did you stop off at your grandfather's? I thought that you had already begun to regret the whole thing."

"No, Hadassah. I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world."

At Jerusalem Alley the droshky came to a halt. Laborers were digging up the street, repairing the sewers. Electric flares were burning in the trenches. A spotlight threw a stark yellow glare.

There was a smell of asphalt, gas, and mold. Down below they could see mud-covered pipes and half-naked men. It was some time before the droshky could continue on its way.

Hadassah said something, but because of the noise Asa Heshel could not hear what it was. On Uyazdover Alley the benches were crowded with people. Asa Heshel looked at Hadassah.

"Where are we going?"

"I told him to drive to Lazhenki Park.

"Is it open?"

"I don't know."

"What will we do if it's closed?"

-251-She

looked at him and didn't answer. The droshky came to a halt.

"Here you are."

Asa Heshel put his hand in his pocket and drew forth a silver coin. The driver looked at it and tried to bend it.

"This is foreign money, panie."

"Oh, I made a mistake." Asa Heshel reached again in his pocket and brought out a half-ruble. He handed it to the driver and motioned him to keep the change.

The driver raised his whip. "Thank you, sir." The two got out and the droshky wheeled off.

The park gate was still open, but a watchman was standing near it to prevent newcomers from entering. Asa Heshel and Hadassah walked along the street. After they had taken a few steps Hadassah stopped abruptly.

"My God," she said, "I didn't even ask you if you were hungry. How did you happen to be on the Krochmalna?"

"Because it was near your house."

"I was getting ready to leave. If you had called five minutes later you'd have found me gone. The moment the bell rang I knew it was you."

"All day you weren't at home. I must have telephoned twenty times."

"How can that be possible? Oh, yes, I went to Stepha's, Abram's daughter. Her sister, Bella, got married. Oh, if I had known that you were in Warsawl I was talking about you to Stepha. She knows all about us. Masha, too."

"What about him?" Asa Heshel asked after some hesitation.

Hadassah turned pale. "I wrote you everything. It was an act of despair. Now it's over. I wanted to punish myself. You'll never understand."

"Yes, I do understand. We were both desperate. Why didn't you stay in Usefov?"

"Didn't I tell you? Her mother came and made a scene. It was terrible."

"We'll have to go away somewhere."

"Yes. We must go away. But where? I'd have to pack a few things. But now it would be impossible. He's home."

"I see."

"Everything is against us, but they won't separate us. There's something I want to tell you. Papa's in Warsaw. There's trouble -252-between him

and Mamma. Sometimes he goes out to see Abram. They had a quarrel, but they made up. Papa's just practically in love with him.

He imitates whatever he does. It's all so crazy. If Papa's not home I'll be able to get the key from the janitor."

"Maybe it would be best to telephone."

"There's no place to phone from here. Let's sit for a while on that bench."

They sat down, looking at a villa that stood opposite, nestling among a group of acacias. The tall windows were lighted behind the brocaded hangings. From time to time a silhouetted figure fluttered by. Above the windows was a carved balcony, supported by three sculptured figures of Hercules. A cool wind was blowing.

Asa Heshel glanced at his wrist watch. It had stopped at five minutes to eleven. It must be a good deal later than that now.

Most of the benches were emptying. The tramcars arriving from the heart of the city were rolling up empty, swaying drunkenly on the tracks. Shadows passed over Hadassah's face. Asa Heshel's love for her, quiet beneath his travel fatigue, suddenly flared up.

"Dear God, I'm actually sitting beside her," he thought. "I'm holding her hand in mine. It isn't a dream." He bent toward her, but at that moment someone sat down at the other end of the bench.

"Hadassah," Asa Heshel murmured, "is it really you?"

"Yes, it's me." The foliage of a tree threw a network of shadow over her features. She bent her head. "Maybe we can go to your place," she said.

"We would have to go through their room."

"Who? Oh, the seamstresses." She lapsed into silence, mystified by all these intricate complications that were closing in around her.

4

When the two again climbed into a drosbky it was late, long past midnight. Hadassah told the driver to take them to Panska Street.

The driver was apparently drunk; in the middle of the ride, near Jerusalem Alley, the carriage came to a stop. The horse raised his hoofs and brought them down heavily on the cobblestones. The driver's head dropped to his chest, and at once his heavy snoring could be heard. Asa Heshel leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder. He awoke with a start and picked -253-up his whip.

Before starting he turned around and asked again for the address.

Hadassah told him to stop at the end of Vielka Street. They got off, and Asa Heshel paid the man a half-ruble. Hadassah murmured something about his spending too much, and Asa Heshel made some answer. Both of them were so tired that they had little idea of what they were saying.

There was no sign of life on Panska Street. The street lamps, standing widely separated, threw a yellow glow on the pavement.

The stores were locked and shuttered. Hadassah had to ring the bell for a long time before the janitor at her father's house came to open the gate. Hadassah asked him if her father was home, but the janitor did not know. She wanted him to open the door --all this while Asa Heshel was standing a little distance off--but he swore that he did not have the key. She joined Asa Heshel, took his arm, and the two walked along Tvarda Street to the Gzhybov.

Hadassah pointed out Meshulam Moskat's house. The windows were dark, except for a red lamp glowing be-hind one of the panes.

"My grandfather's house. My Uncle Joel lives there now."

"Gina told me he's sick."

"Yes. Very sick."

From the Gzhybov they turned onto Gnoyna Street. Hadassah, it seemed, was turning her footsteps toward home. At a courtyard entrance she came to a halt. At the right Asa Heshel could see a sign with an inscription on it: "Fishel Kutner." She pulled the bell. Asa Heshel stared at her. Was this her way of saying good-by to him? She took him by the arm and smiled. Her face was unusually pale. Golden points of light shone in her eyeballs. They heard steps.

"You follow me," Hadassah whispered in his ear.

He wanted to ask what she meant, but now there was no more time. A heavy key turned in the lock, and the door opened. Asa Heshel saw the long, red face of the janitor, one-eyed, and with a black patch instead of a nose. He put his hand in his pocket, took out a silver coin, and thrust it into the other's calloused paw, their fingers fumbling against each other's.