The Family Moskat (55 page)

He could hear the fire in the oven crackling, the water in the kettle seething. It boiled over and sputtered on the iron top of the stove. Yppe came in, the brace on her lame leg knocking on the floor, and whispered something to her mother. "This is the way it must be with a dead man," Koppel thought, "the corpse lying in the house until the funeral."

-356-

THE HOUSE OF PRAYER in Bialodrevna was empty. Because of the war the worshippers did not assemble this year, not even on the Channukah Sabbath. On weekdays not even ten men--the minimum for a quorum--gathered for prayers. Israel Eli, the beadle, who was also the rabbi's treasurer, was without funds.

Everyone demanded payment--the grocer, the butcher, the fish dealer, the baker, the serving woman. Israel Eli came to the rabbi with his tale of woe. The rabbi led him into the rooms of his dead wife, which had been closed up for years. The furniture had become warped from the sun; the wallpaper was peeling. There were spiderwebs in the corners. White worms crawled from the cracks in the floor. The rabbi opened a dresser drawer. In it were rings, gold hairpins, a bent brooch, an ivory figurine, an assortment of other objects. The rabbi lifted up a string of pearls.

"Take these and sell them," he said.

"Her jewels? God forbid!"

"What do I need them for? I'll not marry again."

"Maybe Gina Genendel will repent and--"

"Those who fall into the pit return no more."

Israel Eli took the string of pearls to Warsaw, where he pawned it for two hundred rubles. While he was in the city he paid a call on a couple of wealthy Bialodrevna Chassidim. They all asked the same question: why does the rabbi continue to stay in that dangerous region? All the other Chassidic rabbis, from the courts of Amshinov, Radzimin, Pulav, Strikov, Novo Minsk, had long since settled in Warsaw. Israel Eli returned to Bialodrevna and paid off the creditors. The rabbi apparently had dismissed the entire matter. He did not ask Israel Eli where he had been or for an accounting.

-357-He paced back

and forth in his room. His scant beard was turning gray, but his eyes were still as bright as those of a young man. He stood against the window and looked out over the court yard. " Israel Eli," he said, "be good enough to ask Reb Moshe Gabriel to come to see me."

Israel Eli went out. The rabbi continued gazing out of the window. The fruit trees in the garden stood bare, their branches covered with snow. The footprints of birds were visible, as though they were the footprints of the shades who, according to the Gemara, had the feet of fowl. Above it all heaved a sky of torn clouds, with pillars of stark light cutting through them.

"You sent for me, rabbi?"

"Moshe Gabriel, yes. I should like to know where we're headed for."

Moshe Gabriel touched his wide sash, his skullcap, his curly sidelocks. "If I only knew."

"What is one to do? Reb Moshe Gabriel, teach me how to be a Jew."

"I should teach the rabbi?"

"Don't be so modest. Where shall I find faith?"

Moshe Gabriel paled. "It's not faith that is needed."

"What, then?"

"It's sufficient to say over one of the Psalms."

"Say it, then. I'm listening."

"
Ashrei ha' ish asher lo halach
"Translate it, Reb Moshe Gabriel. I'm a plain man."

Moshe Gabriel read on, sentence by sentence, translating into the Yiddish:

"Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

"But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in His law doth he meditate day and night.

"And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper."

The rabbi listened to each word, his brows drawn together.

"And what did he mean, the psalm-singer?"

"Exactly what it says."

"You have a good and simple faith, Reb Moshe Gabriel. I envy you."

-358-For a long time

the rabbi was silent. He lowered his lids and passed his hand over his lofty brow. The veins in his temples throbbed. He began to pace back and forth, his eyes still closed.

"What should one do after reading the Psalms?"

"Study a chapter of the Mishnah."

"And what does one do at night?

"Sleep."

"And what is the use of sleep?"

"It is necessary."

"You've become a literalist, Reb Moshe Gabriel."

"There is no other way."

"You are right, Reb Moshe Gabriel. The Lord does not de-mand much. A verse of a psalm and a chapter of the Mishnah. He doesn't expect us to tell Him how to run the world. That he knows Himself."

After a while Moshe Gabriel went out. In deference to the rabbi he took a few steps backward. On the far side of the threshold he stood quietly for a moment, running his finger through his beard. "The strength of a saint," he reflected.

A young boy in a wrinkled coat and with disheveled sidelocks ran up to him in excitement. "Reb Moshe Gabriel, your wife is waiting for you!"

"My wife?"

"Yes. At Naftali's inn."

Reb Moshe Gabriel stared at him in disbelief. After a while he started toward the inn. He passed the well, a row of stores, the tavern. Although liquor was not to be had, owing to the war, a harmonica was playing and the peasants inside were singing in drunken voices. In the inn kitchen an enormous boiler of laundry steamed on the stove. In a room off the kitchen straw sacks were heaped on the floor, a reminder of the days when such hordes of the faithful made the pilgrimage to Bialodrevna that many slept on the floor. In the main room Reb Moshe Gabriel saw Leah. She was wearing a fur coat and hat, in the city style.

"Good afternoon," Reb Moshe Gabriel greeted her formally.

"A good year. Where is Aaron?"

"Aaron? In the study house."

"Close the door. Sit down. I have to talk to you."

Moshe Gabriel closed the door and sat down on a chair, taking such a position that he would not be looking directly at -359-her. He sniffed

the worldly odor of perfumed soap. He put his handkerchief to his nose.

Leah coughed. "I'll talk plainly," she said. "I want a divorce."

Moshe Gabriel bent his head. "If you wish it."

"When?"

"On condition that you give me Meyerl."

"Meyerl is going to America with me." The words came out involuntarily.

"To America? To become a goy?"

"There are good Jews in America, too."

"No. Meyerl stays with me. So far as Masha is concerned, she's no better than a gentile already. And as for Zlatele, I leave her to God's mercy. She goes to their schools, and no good will come of it."

"And you think Meyerl will stay with you? Forgive me, Moshe Gabriel, but you're a hanger-on of the rabbi, the same as a beggar."

"Rather a beggar than a heretic."

"No, Moshe Gabriel. I'll not give the child up to you. It's enough what you've done to Aaron. Dear God, what you've made of him! It isn't my fault, Moshe Gabriel. It's been the way you've lived. All these years. And if you don't give me a divorce, then I'll go away without one. And let the sin be on your head."

"You're capable of that, too."

"I'm capable of anything."

"Well, then--" Moshe Gabriel fell silent. The wall clock with its long pendulum and weights creaked and rang twice. Moshe Gabriel got up from the chair. First he glanced toward the mezuzah on the lintel, then he went over to the window and looked out.

Leah took off her fur coat. She was wearing a red dress. "What do you say?" she asked.

"I will give you my answer."

"When? I can't stay here, in this wilderness."

"After evening prayers."

"Is this where you live? Where do you sleep? I mean, where does Aaron sleep?"

"With me."

"I want the divorce papers to be made out here, in Bialodrevna," Leah said harshly.

-

360-"It's all one to me."

Leah bit her lips. That was the way he had been all the years of their marriage. Far away, in another world. She felt an urge to engage in a noisy quarrel, to argue about money, to insult him--for the last time. But there was no way to get at him. Although he was away from home, his face had a clear look, his beard was neat, his clothes were spotless. From behind his gold-rimmed glasses his blue eyes looked off into the distance. Leah remembered what she had once heard of a saintly rabbi--that the name of God always appeared before his vision. Him and Koppel; what a comparison, she suddenly thought. She became angry. "Send Aaron to me."

Moshe Gabriel went out at once. Aaron was standing at a bench in the study house, pouring hot water from a teakettle into a cup. His narrow face had a wintry pallor about it; his sidelocks were awry. From his unbuttoned shirt collar his pointed Adam's apple showed. A few stray hairs sprouted on his naked chin.

Moshe Gabriel watched him as he put a lump of sugar into the cup and stirred it with a holy-ark curtain wire.

"What are you doing, Aaron? That's a holy utensil."

"Everybody uses it."

"Aaron, your mother is here."

The boy's face turned white. "Where?"

"At Naftali's inn. She's come for a divorce. She's going to America."

Aaron tried to put down the curtain wire, but it fell against the teacup and the tea spilled over. He left. Moshe Gabriel stood by the prayer stand and lit a cigarette at the flame of an anniversary candle. It seemed there were unions, he thought, that were destined to be broken. He puffed out a ring of smoke. A special providence. He rubbed his hand over his forehead to drive away the unwelcome thoughts. Koppel. Love. Love between two bodies. If--God forbid--Koppel were to be unsexed, then he would have done with this love. "And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. . . ." "Yes, Moshe Gabriel, love Him whose name is blessed. How long will you perplex yourself with these trivial thoughts?" He suddenly remembered the answer he had given to the rabbi. He opened a volume of the Gemara, sat down, and swayed over it until the night fell.

-361-

2

Late one evening Leah sat on the sofa in her living-room, busy with needle and thread, doing some repairs on a pair of Meyerl's torn trousers. There was a ring at the outside door. The house servant was not at home, and Leah went to answer it. She called out: "Who is there?" but she could not make out the reply. She opened the door. At the entrance stood Abram, the snow heavy on his coat and hat, his beard snow-whitened, a cigar in his mouth. He was carrying an umbrella held up against his shoulder.

Leah stared at him in surprise; never before had be appeared so enormous. He was breathing heavily and puffing out thick clouds of smoke. Leah quickly got a brush and began to brush the snow off his galoshes. "Don't stand there like a
golem
," she said. "Come in."

He followed her inside. The corridor was unlit; only the dim light from the living-room relieved the darkness. Abram began to stamp his feet and cough. Then suddenly he approached Leah and put both his hands on her shoulders.

Leah started in alarm. "What's the matter with you? Are you out of your mind?"

"Leah, is it true?" Abram asked.

Leah knew what he meant. "Yes," she answered. "We've been divorced."

"And is the rest of it true, too?"

"Yes. Take your paws off me."

"It's impossible!" Abram took a few steps backward.

"It's true, Abram. If you don't like it, you can blot my name from the family records. I'm going away just the same."

"And where are you going to got?"

"To America."

"Now? In the middle of a war? How is it possible to travel?"

"If you want to go, there are ways."

"And what about the children?"

"You don't have to worry about them. Meyerl and Zlatele are going with me. Masha wants to stay here. She's old enough to know her own mind. Let her stay. Aaron seems to be ashamed of his mother."

"And Moshe Gabriel will let you take Meyerl?"

"I swore an oath that I'd let him stay here--but I'll break it."

"Leah--Cossack!"

-362-"Look, Abram.

If what I'm doing doesn't please you, go back where you came from. I'm sick of all of them, the whole mess."

"What are you shouting for? I won't eat you. I always knew that you were a rebel, but that you'd go as far as this--that never entered my mind."

"Abram, go home."

"Don't throw me out. You're seeing me for the last time. If you've fallen for Koppel, then you're digging your own grave."

"What have you come here for? To curse me? Maybe I could expect it from the rest of them, but that you should start to slander--"

"It isn't a question of slander."

"You've made Hama's life miserable; you've broken up the family; you drag around with abandoned women. And you've got the impudence to accuse me. I'll be married honorably, like a decent Jewish daughter."

"
Mazeltov
! When is the wedding?"

"I'll let you know."

"Then good night."

"Good riddance. None of you are worth Koppel's old shoes. My father--God rest his soul--practically sold me off. My brothers are tearing at each other over the inheritance. I spit on all of you!

America is a free country. We'll begin a new life. Peo-ple aren't ashamed to work for a living there."

"Give my regards to Columbus."

"Get the hell out of here."

Suddenly Abram burst into laughter. "Idiot," he said. "What are you so excited about? If you love Koppel, that's your headache.

You'll be the one to live with him, not me."

"I'll be proud of it."

For a while both were silent. In the dimness Leah's eyes shone with a pale green light. Sparks flew from Abram's lighted cigar onto his beard.

"Why have you posted yourself here in the corridor? Unless it's not elegant enough for you, come inside."

"No, Leah. Someone's waiting for me."

"Who? Your actress? You waited longer for her."