The Family Moskat (53 page)

Reb Wolf had to help her out. Her daughter, Dinah, was at the other end of the phone. She had left her six-weeks-old infant with a neighbor and had come down to let her -342-mother

know the good news that a letter had come from Asa Heshel.

He was well. His regiment was in Galicia.

Finkel raised both arms, her eyes lifted aloft, and she poured out her thanks to the Creator of all things. The All-Merciful had seen her sorrow, He had heard her prayers, and she, the rebellious in spirit, had in her bitterness questioned His wisdom. She immediately decided that this day she would fast and would plead with the Holy One to forgive her her sinful thoughts. It was not until three stars showed in the sky that night that she tasted some food.

DURING THE EVENING Dacha suddenly sat up in her sickbed.

Her face was parchment-colored, her eyes preternaturally large and bright. She called for the maid, but there was no an-swer.

Hadassah was out getting a prescription. Dacha picked up a silver spoon that lay on the table beside the bed and banged it against the back of the chair. Finally the maid came in.

"They leave me alone. I even have to die alone," Dacha groaned.

"But, mistress, all I was doing was trying to get a little rest.

All last night I didn't close an eye."

"Change my shirt. Bring me a basin to wash my hands."

The girl went to the wardrobe and brought the only shirt that was there; it was elaborately embroidered, but torn--one of the things that had remained from Dacha's trousseau. When Dacha saw it she grimaced. "Is there no other?" she said. "Nice way to run a house!"

The maid helped her to change. Dacha had become painfully thin during her illness. Her ribs stood out; her breasts had be--343-come flabby. A sweetish sickish odor arose from her body. The fresh nightgown was too big for her and dropped over her shoulders; the embroidery about the sleeves and over the front was frayed. Dacha's face grew sterner. "Bring me the mirror," she commanded.

The servant hesitated for a moment and then brought the looking-glass. Dacha looked at her reflection for a long time. "A corpse."

"Maybe you'd like something to eat, mistress?"

"For what? For the worms?"

The maid brought a pitcher of water and a dipper to the bedside table and helped her mistress wash her bony fingers. Dacha's lips tried to mumble a prayer, but she could not remember the words.

Suddenly her strength left her. Her eyes rolled upward. The servant put some pillows behind her head and leaned her back.

The sick woman's lips kept on mumbling. All at once there came to her mind the words of an old song she had sung as a child: "Your lovely cheeks so rosy red. . . ."

She made a vague effort to hum the melody. She remembered the tune, but the rest of the words had gone from her mind.

After a little while she dozed off. She dreamed that it was Fri-day, the day she was to be married. The winter day was short. Soon it would be time to light the Sabbath candles. Her bridegroom was waiting in front of the synagogue. The musicians were playing.

But she, the bride, had only one shoe on; the other foot was bare.

She lifted the cover of the oaken chest, but it was bottomless. The door opened and a crowd of women poured into the room. Their faces were yellow and half rotted away. Their eyes were sightless.

In their wrinkled hands they carried double-braided Sabbath loaves. They danced around her. Her dead mother was among them, in tattered shoes, and with a handful of straw. She seized Dacha by the hand and dragged her with her.

"Mother, where are you taking me?"

"To the black canopy . . . in the dark grave.

Dacha opened her eyes, to see Hadassah standing at the side of the bed. "Is it you, Hadassah?"

"Yes, Mamma."

"Where have you been?"

"At the druggist's."

"Call people in. I want to make the confession."

-344—

Hadassah turned white. "What people?" "Don't ask me any questions. There's little time."

When Hadassah was at the door Dacha called her back. "Where is your father? Where is he wandering around, the heartless fool?"

"I don't know."

"What will be your end? I know all your wicked deeds."

"Mamma!"

"Be silent! You're unclean. Your lips are unclean."

"Mamusha!"

"Whore! Get out of my sight!"

Hadassah broke into tears and swayed, as though about to fall.

Fishel appeared at the half-open door. Seeing the stern face of Dacha and the weeping girl, he took a step back.

"What are you afraid of?" Dacha said harshly. "I'm not dead yet."

Fishel came forward.

"How are you?" he asked.

"May my enemies--" Dacha started. She was quiet for a moment. "There are lucky people in the world. Live easy and die easy. My life is cursed. My mother was a pious woman, but a bitter one. All she did was punish me and drive me to work. Ah, God, never a minute's peace. I was the oldest. All the burdens were on my shoulders. Ever since I was five years old. My father was a holy man, but not of this world. What could he understand? 'Dacha, tea! Dacha, bring me my pipe! Dacha, go and borrow some money; not a copper in the house for the Sabbath!' I had to go and borrow from strangers; I stood at the door like a beggar. They sucked my blood. Woe to me, I was not yet eight years old."

"Mother-in-law, they didn't mean any harm. One has to forgive."

"I forgive them. But what did they want of me? The other children played, danced, sang, while I was sunk in grief. My mother, blessed be her memory, spent her time enjoying herself with her cronies."

"Mother-in-law, don't think of it any more. This is no time to--"

"I know. I'm sinning in my last breath. Both worlds lost."

Dacha closed her eyes and dozed off again. One side of her face was contorted in what looked like a smile, the other was -345-erious and

stiff. Hadassah went into the living-room. After a moment of hesitation Fishel followed her.

"What does the doctor say?" he asked her.

"I don't know. Leave me alone."

Hadassah, I want you to listen to me. There's something I've got to tell you."

"Not now."

"Hadassah, I know everything. It is forbidden for us to live together."

Hadassah looked at him in astonishment. The tears rolled down her cheeks. "What do you want to do?"

"Well have to get divorced. I'll raise no objections."

"All right."

"You know how I loved you. With all my heart and soul. But if things have gone this far, then we've got to put an end to it.

According to the sacred law."

"I understand."

"It's forbidden that we be under the same roof."

His glasses misted over. Red spots appeared on his cheeks. He smiled with embarrassment and waited for a final word of kindness from her. Hadassah started to say something, but the doorbell rang and she went to answer it. Three men came in: Dr.

Mintz, her father, and Abram. Dr. Mintz, the stub of a fat cigar in his mouth, the lapel of his coat flecked with ashes, was puffing and panting. He pinched Hadassah's cheek as he passed her. Abram came in soberly and quietly, discarding his cigar at the threshold. Nyunie was wearing his coat with the fox collar and lapels and the fur-edged hat. Since Dacha had become ill, he had taken to trimming his beard. From day to day it be-came shorter.

"Come into the kitchen and light the stove for me," Dr. Mintz ordered. Hadassah followed him and lit the gas stove. Dr. Mintz took a shallow pan and sterilized a hypodermic needle and some other paraphernalia in it. The gas flame threw a pale light.

Dr. Mintz walked over to the sink, washed his hands, and spat out the remains of the cigar.

"You look bad, Hadassah," he said. "I don't want you to let yourself go. You'll need your health."

"What for? I'm ready to die."

"It's too early for that, my girl. You'll not be doing anybody any favors."

-346-He turned

toward the sickroom. Abram came into the kitchen and put his hands on Hadassah's shoulders.

"Have you heard anything from Asa Heshel?" he whispered.

Hadassah trembled. "No," she said. "Nothing."

"Then in that case he's managed to get away."

Nyunie went into his own room. Only a little while before, he had eaten a heavy meal of chopped liver, noodle soup, goose, and apple sauce, but he was hungry again. The war and the scarcity of food seemed only to sharpen his appetite. In the drawer of a table in his room there was a piece of honey cake and a pear. He felt ashamed of this constant hunger, especially at a time when his wife was at the point of death. He closed the door and chained it. He chewed energetically, his beard catching the stray crumbs. "Ah, bitter as gall!" he thought. "It's close. Any minute. Too bad for Hadassah. . . ." He swallowed the last mouthful and went over to the bookcase. On the lower shelf was a book on ethnology. Nyunie took it out and opened it somewhere in the middle. He began to read. The section described the customs of a mid-African tribe; circumcision was practiced, not only on the young males, but on the girls as well. The ceremony was conducted with pagan ritual and wild dancing. Instead of a knife, a polished stone was used for the operation. Nyunie tugged at his beard. The description aroused a sensuous longing in him.

He had lived out his years with a sick woman, a pious woman, a harsh woman, the daughter of a rabbinical house. Either she had had no desire herself, or she had been sick, or she had been disturbed by some ritual difficulty. The thought came to Nyunie's mind that as soon as the prescribed thirty-day period of mourning was over he would go to see the widow Gritzhendler and have a direct talk with her. The idea terrified him. He took out his handkerchief and spat into it.

"Faugh! What's happening to me?" he thought. "God forbid!

She'll recover! Everything will be all right."

-347-

AT THE BEGINNING of January there was a double funeral in

the Moskat family: Dacha and Joel died on the same day. The funeral processions joined at Gzhybov Place and proceeded together. The day was wet, with rain, hail, and snow in the air. The cortege was a small one--small for the Moskat clan. There were several droshkies following the hearses. Hadassah, dressed entirely in black, was supported by her two cousins, Stepha and Masha. At the cemetery Hadassah could see through her veil two newly dug graves, one close to the other. Joel had been a big man.

The attendants who lowered the body into the grave strained under the burden. Wrapped in her shrouds, Dacha's form seemed strangely tiny. Her body was quickly lowered into the wet ground, and immediately the clods of earth were strewn over it. Fishel, true to the dead woman's request, recited the Kaddish over his mother-in-law's grave. He swayed back and forth, his thin voice broken with tears.

"
Yisgadal v'yiskadash
. . . . magnified and sanctified be His great name in the world which He bath created according to His will.

May He establish His kingdom during our life and dur-ing our days, and during the life of all the house of Israel. . . ."

The women sobbed. The men sighed. Abram kept a firm hand under Hama's elbow; she was noticeably faint. Nyunie was wearing his heavy coat with the fox-fur collar and lapels and his fur-edged hat. His kid boots were encased in a pair of shiny galoshes.

Among those who had followed Dacha's body to the ceme-tary was the widow Bronya Gritzhendler, the owner of an antique shop. She dried her eyes with a silk kerchief, and Nyunie darted glances at her.

On the way back Hadassah, Nyunie, and Fishel shared a carriage.

When they arrived home, the neighbors brought a loaf of bread, a hard-boiled egg, and a pinch of ashes for the mourners -348-according to the

custom, but Hadassah was unable to eat even a mouthful. The wall mirror in the living-room was covered with a sheet. In the bedroom a mourning candle burned and there was a piece of linen soaking in a glass of water. Hadassah went into the room she had occupied before she was married and locked the door behind her. She lowered the window blinds and lay down on the bed fully clothed.

She remained there all day and through the night. The maid knocked at the door a few times, but Hadassah refused to answer.

For the first half hour or so Nyunie sat on a low stool, wearing a pair of cloth slippers and reading from the Book of job. But the complaints of job and the words of comfort of his friends soon became tedious, and Nyunie went into his study. There he lit a cigar and lay down on the sofa. The telephone rang. It was Bronya Gritzhendler.

"Nyunie," came her voice, "I want to know if there's anything I can do for you. And may you be spared from any more sorrow.

"It's you. A thousand thanks. Why don't you come over? It will cheer me immensely."

He took out the volume on folk customs, turned the pages, and glanced at the woodcuts. He had no patience either to sit on a stool in his stockinged feet or to listen to the pious Tews who would come to the house to hold prayer services during the period of mourning. Now that Dacha was dead, he no longer needed this mask of piety. There was nothing to stop him from shedding these ancient Eastern garments and putting on European clothing. His only worry was Hadassah. During the night her coughing waked him several times. Her mother's death and Asa Heshel's induction into military service had left her crushed, he reflected. But what could he do? She wouldn't even let him talk to her.

During the third night of the period of mourning Nyunie woke up frightened. From Hadassah's room came gasping and groaning.

Nyunie pushed his feet into slippers, put on a robe, and went into her room. The electric lamp was lit. Hadassah was half sitting up in the bed. Her face was white, her lips bloodless.

"What is it, Hadassah?" Nyunie called to her anxiously. "I'll call Dr. Mintz."

"No, no, Papa."

"What'll I do, then?"

"Just let me die."

-349-Nyunie

shuddered. "Are you crazy? You're still a child! I'll call the doctor right away."