The Family Moskat (79 page)

Hadassah came back into the room. "It's for you."

"Who is it?"

-

520-"Some woman." "Who is she?" "The devil knows."

Asa Heshel got out of bed with a sigh. Could Adele have the impudence to call him at this hour of the night? Maybe something had happened to David. On the way out of the room he stumbled against the edge of little Dacha's bed. The light was turned on in the corridor. In the wall mirror Asa Heshel caught sight of his reflection, a disheveled image, with sunken chest, a pale face, and sleepless eyes. He picked up the receiver. "Who is this?"

"Did I wake you? Forgive me. It's an emergency. This is Barbara."

"Yes, Barbara?"

"The police have searched my house," Barbara said in a muffled voice. "They wanted to arrest me. I managed to get away. They were asking questions about you."

"About me? Where are you now?"

"At the Central Station. I don't know what to do. I haven't got my pass with me, or any money."

Asa Heshel was silent. He could hear his breath through his nostrils. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Maybe you can come over to meet me. Then I'll be able to tell you everything. You'd better bring a valise with you."

"A valise? Why?"

"So that you'll look like a traveler. Good-by."

Asa Heshel heard the click of the receiver. He stood without moving for a moment. The lamp on the writing-desk threw an uneven glow. Hadassah came into the room in her nightgown.

Her face was bloodless. "What's happening? You don't even let me get a night's sleep."

"Hadassah, they're looking for me. To arrest me."

"Arrest you? What for?"

"I don't know. I'll have to leave the house right away. I think it has some connection with Hertz Yanovar. He gave the officials everybody's name and address."

Hadassah was silent. Ever since Masha had made a suicide attempt and her Uncle Abram had had a heart attack in the room of a servant who was a thief, she was ready to believe anything.

She shook her head. "Who was that woman? You're ly-ing to me."

-521-"I'm telling

you the truth. I swear to you by everything that's holy."

"I don't believe your oaths any more. You're a liar and a traitor. Go on, go to your worthless women! And don't ever come back. Never! Never!"

She wrung her hands. The tears rolled down her cheeks. Asa Heshel went into the bedroom and dressed hurriedly. In the darkness he fussed about with his collar, collar buttons, tie, and shoelaces. His fatigue had left him. In him there arose a new energy that had been hidden somewhere in the deeps of his nervous system.

Dacha awoke. "Papa, what are you doing?"

"Go to sleep. I'm just getting dressed."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be back soon."

"Did you hit Mamma?"

"God forbid. Where do you get such notions?"

"Because she's crying."

Hadassah's sobs could be heard from the other room. Asa Heshel wanted to explain the situation to her, to assure her again that he was going only because he was compelled to. But he knew that it would be a long-drawn-out affair, using up urgent time. It would be better now not to try to patch up the quarrel. He opened a clothes closet and rummaged about till he found a valise. Without putting on the light he emptied some shirts, socks, and handkerchiefs into it from the dresser drawers.

Hadassah entered the room. He stood there in his hat and overcoat. He could see her white nightgown as a pale patch.

She turned toward him. "I'll not let you go."

"You're not the boss here yet."

"Asa Heshel, I beg you! Listen to me. Don't go!" She started to plead with him. "Asa Heshel! For God's sake, don't leave me alone! Have you no more love for me?"

Something tore at his heart. He wanted to reassure her, but there was no time now. Instead he turned harshly on her. "What are you standing there like an idiot for? I'm not going away to have a good time. She called me up because it was necessary to warn me. These Polish officials are madmen."

"Where are you going? It's the middle of the night. I tell you, that woman wants to destroy you."

She clutched at his coat lapel and thrust herself in his way.

-522-He tore

himself out of her grasp and pushed her aside. The child began to wail. "Tatush, you're hitting her!"

Asa Heshel hurried out and ran quickly down the steps. In the outside courtyard he came to a stop. All the house windows were dark. The janitor, apparently, was already asleep; the window off the entrance was covered with a blanket. But just then there was a ring of the outside gate bell, and the janitor came out in his undershirt, holding his pants. He glanced at Asa Heshel and the valise he was carrying. "You're going away?" he asked.

"Yes. To Lodz."

"Is there a train so late?"

"The last one."

Asa Heshel immediately regretted the remark. In the event of an investigation the lie might have serious consequencs. Outside, over the opposite rooftops, hung a pearly dimmed midnight moon.

A late streetcar rumbled by. Asa Heshel ran toward it and leaped aboard. He knew that he was letting himself in for trouble; nevertheless, he had an urgent desire to get to the railroad station quickly. He was breathless, and astonished at his own hurry.

"What's happening to me now?" he thought. "Am I in love with her?" He paid the conductor and sat down, wiped the mist off the window and looked out. The storekeepers had gone in for a new fashion, he noticed; they were keeping their windows lighted although the shops were closed, in the foreign manner. Along Marshalkovska Street women loitered. Their shadowed eyes shone with the gloomy lust of those who have lost all fear of peering into the abyss. Asa Heshel got off the car a little distance before the station. The waiting-room was half empty, garishly lit.

The windows at the ticket-sellers' booths were all down. The hands of the large wall clock showed half past two. He glanced toward the benches. Barbara was sitting there, wearing a caracul jacket, hatless, and carrying a blue valise. She was talking to a woman who held a small dog an her lap. She saw him, got up, and came over to him. She held out her gloved hand, looking at him with an expression that was half worried and half gay. "I knew that you'd come."

"We can't stay here," Asa Heshel said. "Well have to go somewhere else."

"Where else can we go? It's bitter cold outside."

He took the valise from her and started to walk ahead. A -523-policeman

looked curiously at them. He made a motion as though to stop them, but then continued his stroll. A fence separated the train tracks from the street. A solitary locomotive puffed out clouds of steam. There was the clang of milk cans and the shouts of porters.

Barbara put on the beret she was carrying in her hand with her pocketbook. "Where are you taking me?"

"I have an idea. A wild one, but this whole thing is wild."

"Give me your arm. You poor boy, I pulled you out of a nice warm bed."

"What happened?"

"Ah, it's all so mixed up. You see, I have a friend--we went to the Evangelical school together. Well, I went to visit her; they live on Napoleon Place. All of a sudden I was called to the telephone. You probably noticed when you visited me the name of one of our neighbors--Pastor Gurney. He has a seventeen-year-old son--the boy's been in love with me ever since he was a child. I asked: 'Who is this? and he said: 'Peter.' 'How did you know I was here? I said. I was really frightened. I thought that maybe Father had fallen sick. 'Don't say anything; just listen to me,' Peter said. 'The police have been at your apartment. They were there for about two hours, going through all the books. I listened. They wanted to arrest you. One of them is still waiting outside. They also asked who visited you. Your father gave them a name--Bannet.' . . . Can you imagine? If it wasn't for Peter I'd be in prison now."

"Where did you manage to get the valise?"

"At my friend's. I could have stayed the night, but I figured that the cops might find me. Her parents are such conservative people. And I wanted to warn you."

"Have they anything on you?"

"I haven't done anything. They have absolutely no evidence against me. But you know how it is--in the meanwhile they can hold you in jail. Maybe they found a few pamphlets. So many provocateurs have found their way into our ranks. The Trotsky-ists are the worst informers. Now I'm sorry that I ever came back from abroad. You can hardly imagine how free everything is in France. Here it's awful. I'm not worrying about myself, but my father must be terribly upset. He's got a bad heart. And I haven't got any money. What's to be done? You know Warsaw, don't you?"

"A hotel would be too dangerous."

-524-"Of course.

But there must be some places where one can stay a night without a passport. Tomorrow I'll go to a lawyer and straighten everything out. I'm sure you're perfectly all right. A hundred-per-cent reactionary like you."

"But I'll have to prove it to them."

"Well, if you're frightened you can go back home."

"I'm not frightened."

"Really? I thought you'd answer the telephone, but it was your wife. When I said I wanted to talk to you, she didn't make a sound. I thought she had hung up on me. She must be very jealous."

"Who wouldn't be?"

"Poor thing, I'm so sorry. Although one person has no right to be jealous of another. Your body is your own, as Madame Kollantai said. Where are we going?"

"Have you heard of Abram Shapiro?"

"I think Hertz Yanovar once mentioned him to me. Who is he?"

"That's a long story. He's my wife's uncle. He's sick now; he had a heart attack. And he's living in the house of a woman friend of his--his mistress, really. Ida Prager, a painter. She's in the hospital; she's sick herself. The flat is a kind of studio. Maybe we'll be able to spend a few hours there."

"Where is it?"

"Not far. Holy Cross Street."

"The question is whether the janitor will let us in. Each house here is a prison in itself."

"I think he will. A lot of people come to the studio. I'll give him a zloty."

"Well, you see how smart I was? My heart told me that you'd be the only one to help me. Ah, everything is so mixed up. Tell me, is Mr. Shapiro married?"

"He's a widower."

"Who takes care of him? Anyway, there's nothing else for us to do. I insulted you last time. I regretted it immediately afterwards. There's really something very nice about you. I'm not saying this to flatter you. You're an
enfant terrible
. Your wife, too, sounds like a child."

"How can you know what my wife is like?"

"Oh, I could tell it by her voice. Why aren't you happy with her?"

-525-"I

doubt whether I could be happy with anyone." "Why not?" "This whole marriage business is not for me."

"It's good that you know it. It's true--you could never love anyone. You're a victim of your own philosophy. If pleasure is all that counts, there is no reason for ever giving. Only for tak-ing."

"That's the quintessence of all civilization."

"We Communists don't believe that. We wish to give as well as to take."

"I've only seen them take."

"You're just a naughty boy and I ought to twist your ear.

Someone must have abused you when you were a child and you simply can't forget it. What are people to do? They have to eat."

"There are too many mouths to feed. Every janitor has a dozen kids."

"What have you got against janitors? I guess it's the time of night. At a late hour like this everything is upside down."

"As far as I'm concerned, it has always been upside down."

"Yes, you toss back and forth in the world like a sleepless person on his bed. Papa is right. A Jew of your kind must have a god. Papa is clever and irrational. I, personally, have given up everything. When I was a child I was terribly pious. I would get out of bed during the night to kneel before the picture of Jesus. I had one desire--to become a nun. I wasn't satisfied with the Evangelical church. I envied the Catholics. I had a purity complex. Later I fell in love with a boy, a Christian--but he was smart enough to get married to someone else. That was a blow to me, I can tell you. I became ambitious and wanted to be independent. In France I lived as though I was in a dream. I thought I knew French, but when I got there, no one understood a word I said. I went to live with a family and they treated me like a daughter. Oh, I forgot to tell you--Papa got married here in Warsaw; that was the reason they sent me away. My stepmother is an Englishwoman, the widow of a missionary. What a match that was! She was brought up somewhere in India. They lived in different worlds. Thank God, she went back to London.

Yes, my friend, and in the meanwhile I discovered that people had to eat and so I joined the Communist Party. Are we there?"

Asa Heshel rang the bell. Barbara fidgeted about, tapping her soles on the pavement. After a while footsteps could be heard.

-526-Asa Heshel

took out a silver zloty. The janitor opened the courtyard door a crack.

"Who is it you're looking for?"

"Pan Abram Shapiro. In the studio."

"Who are you?"

"We're relatives of his."

"
Nu
. . ."

Asa Heshel motioned to Barbara and she went first. The janitor returned to his quarters.

"You're an experienced liar," Barbara said.

"Crazy, too."

On the fourth floor they halted. Barbara sat down on the sill of the landing window, her feet dangling. Asa Heshel set down the valises.

Barbara's eyes bored at him in the darkness. "What are you thinking of, child?" she whispered.

"I have a feeling that all of humanity is caught in a trap. No going forward and no going backward. We Jews will be the first victims."

"The end of the world, eh? Papa to the bones! What does your Jewishness really consist in? What are the Jews, after all?"

"A people who can't sleep themselves and let nobody else sleep."

"Maybe that comes from a bad conscience."

"The others have no conscience at all."