Too Many Men (71 page)

Edek said.

“Yes,” Ruth said. Suddenly the number thirteen seemed an ominous number. “Do you think thirteen is an unlucky number?” Ruth asked Edek.

“Unlucky? A number? Are you crazy?” Edek said. Ruth felt better.

Believing in superstitions was just a way of burdening yourself, she decided.

She tried to think about the news of Garth’s visit, and what it would T O O M A N Y M E N

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mean. But she was tired. She realized that she could have dispensed with all of her worries about Zofia. Zofia didn’t seem to be at the center of Edek’s universe. Zofia didn’t seem a problem anymore. There was a problem though. Edek’s plans to reunite her with Garth. But that problem seemed surmountable, soluble. Not anywhere near as big a problem as Zofia had seemed to be, earlier in the day.

The word “big,” in the same sentence as Zofia, reminded Ruth of Zofia’s breasts. Why did Zofia’s breasts fixate her? Big breasts were not that desirable. Many big-breasted women had problems managing their big breasts.

Problems with bras, problems with men, problems with other women.

Why was she making Zofia’s breasts a problem for herself?

“I’ll see Garth in New York,” she said to Edek. “But nothing will happen.”

“We will see,” Edek said.

“Garth is in the past, for me,” Ruth said. “What’s in the past is in the past.” If only that was true, she thought, after she had said it.

Walentyna was sitting in the lounge of the Hotel Mimoza when they got back. She jumped up when she saw Ruth and Edek.

“Could I speak for a moment with Ruth alone?” she said to Ruth and Edek.

“Of course,” Edek said.

“Excuse me,” Walentyna said to Edek. “I hope it is not rude for me to ask this.”

“Of course not,” Edek said.

Ruth was puzzled by Walentyna’s request to talk privately with her.

“I will go to my room,” Edek said to Walentyna, “to get ready for lunch.” He looked at his hands. “I have to wash my hands,” he said. “They are sticky from the
pontshkes
. I will see you two ladies later.”

Ruth sat down next to Walentyna. “Zofia is a very good woman,”

Walentyna said. So, this was what the talk was about, Ruth thought. Walentyna was making a pitch on Zofia’s behalf. She was surprised that she hadn’t guessed. She wondered whether Zofia had asked Walentyna to intercede. Somehow Ruth couldn’t imagine Zofia needing Walentyna’s help. She was annoyed at herself. Why did she have to view Walentyna’s

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L I L Y B R E T T

actions so cynically? Why couldn’t she just see them as sensitive acts of friendship? As a sign of a deep bond between two deeply dissimilar women. She hated herself for being cynical.

“I’m sure Zofia is a very good woman,” Ruth said.

“I know that she is,” Walentyna said. Walentyna looked at Ruth. “Zofia did not ask me to talk to you,” she said.

“Zofia doesn’t seem to be the sort who asks for help,” Ruth said. Walentyna laughed.

“You are right,” she said. “Zofia is very independent. But she is a good person. You do not need to be nervous of her.”

“I’m not nervous,” Ruth said.

“You are nervous,” Walentyna said. “I can see this.”

Everyone, apparently, could see her nerves. Could see that she, Ruth Rothwax, was a nervous person, Ruth thought. “I did see that you were nervous about me and Zofia on the first day,” Walentyna said. “There is no need to be nervous. There is no need to be nervous of me. There is no need to be nervous of Zofia.”

Ruth wished Walentyna would use a different word. She was becoming sick of the word “nervous.” What other words could Walentyna have used? She could have used anxious, apprehensive, troubled. She could have used fearful, agitated, skittish. No, that was unfair of her. You couldn’t expect a Polish-speaking person to know the word “skittish.”

Ruth was settling into her reverie about the word “nervous,” when Walentyna spoke again. “Zofia is a good person. A very good person,” Walentyna said. “And a very good friend.”

A good friend? Was the face that Zofia had made about Walentyna’s cheesecake the act of a good friend? Ruth thought. It could have been if Walentyna’s cheesecake was terrible, she decided.

“I know Zofia is sometimes not easy,” Walentyna said. “Sometimes she does say too strongly what she does think. She doesn’t know how strong she is. It is hard for me to speak sometimes when I am with her. But she is a good friend and a good person.”

“I’m sure she is,” Ruth said. Walentyna hadn’t finished, Ruth realized.

She had only paused to draw breath.

“And she does adore Edek,” Walentyna said, a bit flushed and a bit breathless from her speech. “Who would not adore Edek?” Walentyna T O O M A N Y M E N

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added quickly. “I think he is wonderful, myself, but Zofia did get to him first.” Zofia got to him first, Ruth thought. What was Edek? A prize to be divided out or delivered to the earliest arrival? Ruth decided Walentyna had intended this remark as a compliment. As a sincere declaration of Edek’s worth. Not as a sexist statement.

“In any case,” Walentyna said, “I am too quiet for Edek.” She put her hand on Ruth’s arm. “Give Zofia a chance,” she said.

“I don’t think Zofia needs my help,” said Ruth. “She’s doing quite well on her own.”

“She does need your help,” Walentyna said.

“There is nothing to help her about,” Ruth said. “We are going tomorrow. We won’t see you or Zofia for a long time.”

She stopped herself from adding, if ever. She didn’t want to be too harsh to either woman. “I don’t think we’ll be making another trip to Poland in the near future,” she said to Walentyna. That was a reasonable compromise, she thought.

“We will see,” Walentyna said.

“Yes,” said Ruth. “We will see.”

“I hear that you will have an old boyfriend visiting you in New York,”

Walentyna said. Ruth was startled. How did Walentyna know that? Had Zofia told her? Zofia must have told her. Edek must have told Zofia. Before he told Ruth. Ruth felt uneasy. This was not a good sign. She took a deep breath. She was being silly, she thought. There was nothing to worry about. Edek had kept quiet about the news of Garth’s visit for a long time. Obviously he had had trouble containing himself and had leaked the news to Zofia.

Ruth shuddered. Why had she had to use the term “containing himself”? It was too sexual a metaphor for that sentence. And then the words

“leaked” to Zofia. She didn’t want to think of her father not being able to contain himself or leaking anything, with Zofia. She shuddered again.

Edek was back. “Are you ready for lunch?” he said to Ruth.

“Yes,” she said quickly. She didn’t want to give Edek the opportunity of inviting Zofia or Walentyna to lunch.

“I must go and find Zofia,” Walentyna said. “We are going to visit the site of Schindler’s factory.”

“Don’t take a guide,” Ruth said. “Unless you want to hear about Steven Spielberg.”

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L I L Y B R E T T

“Why do you have to say such things?” Edek said to Ruth, after Walentyna had left. “Maybe Walentyna does want to hear about Steven Spielberg.”

“That’s probably exactly what she wants to hear about,” Ruth said.

“There is nothing wrong with that,” Edek said.

“I want people to hear about the Jews or about Oskar Schindler before they hear about Steven Spielberg.”

“What does it matter?” Edek said.

“It matters,” Ruth said.

“It does not change anything what did happen to the Jews,” Edek said.

A couple, a man and woman, in their sixties, were standing next to Ruth and Edek.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation,” the woman said. “I’m Sylvia Rosenzweig and this is my husband Tommy,” she said. “We want to go to the Jewish cabaret at the Samson Restaurant tonight. Do you know if we have to book tickets?”

“Don’t bother going,” Ruth said to Tom and Sylvia Rosenzweig. “It’s just a lot of anti-Semitic drivel. There’s nothing Jewish about this cabaret.”

Both Rosenzweigs looked shocked.

“I heard it was a Jewish cabaret,” Sylvia Rosenzweig said.

“That’s what they advertise,” Ruth said.

“Why?” said Tommy.

“I don’t know,” said Ruth. The Rosenzweigs left, shaking their heads.

“Why did you say this?” Edek said. “You are upsetting every Jewish person what is traveling in Poland, and every Polish person what you do meet.”

“There is a lot to be upset about,” Ruth said.

Edek looked happier when they were having lunch. His irritation with her seemed to have diminished. Eating often made him happy. Ruth thought about that sentence. It was incorrect. Eating always made her father happy.

It seemed to be an obvious consequence of years of starvation. Or maybe he had been that way before the war. There had been so many maybes in Ruth’s thoughts about Edek’s and Rooshka’s lives.

Ruth and Edek were in a small restaurant in Mikolájska Street, just off the Rynek Glówny. The restaurant specialized in
pierogi
. Edek had chosen T O O M A N Y M E N

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a selection of beef
pierogi
, veal
pierogi
, and potato and cheese
pierogi
.

Ruth was eating chicken soup again. Her stomach was unsettled. Feeling ill had its advantages, she thought. She had never had so little trouble resisting food.

Edek was eating unusually fast. He always ate speedily, but something about today’s speed alarmed Ruth. She looked at him. He had nearly finished the
pierogi
. His good mood seemed to have vanished with the beef, veal, and potato and cheese
pierogi
. Suddenly he put down his knife and fork. He banged the table with his right hand. “I have made a decision,”

he said.

Ruth’s heart sank. What was she going to hear now? She put down her spoon. She tried to steady herself in preparation for what she was about to hear. What was Edek’s decision? It sounded more decisive than a decision to order more
pierogi
or have a slice of cake.

“I have something to tell you, Ruthie,” Edek said.

Ruth shook her head. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to know about it. “Why do you shake your head?” Edek said.

“I know more than I need to know about a number of things,” Ruth said. “I don’t need to hear anything else. I’m already overloaded.”

“But you do always want to know things,” Edek said.

“Not now,” Ruth said. “I don’t want to know about Zofia, I don’t want to know about Garth. I don’t want to know about anything. I just want to go home.”

“This is not to do with Zofia,” Edek said, “and it is not to do with Garth. I did tell you everything what there was to tell about Garth.”

“It’s not?” Ruth said. “Then, what is it?”

“I do need to go back to Lódz,” he said.

“You want to go back to Lódz?” Ruth said. “But you couldn’t wait to get out of the place. You hated being there.”

“I did not hate it,” Edek said.

“You weren’t happy there,” said Ruth.

“What person in my position would be happy to be in Lódz?” Edek said.

“Exactly,” said Ruth. “So why do you want to go back?”

“I want to go only for one hour or two hours,” Edek said.

Ruth felt frightened. They had spent three days in Lódz. Why hadn’t

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L I L Y B R E T T

Edek done whatever it was that he wanted to do then? What was different now? She started to tremble.

“What is wrong, Ruthie?” Edek said.

“I’m just cold,” she said.

She wondered where the chill in her bones had arrived from. Her teeth started chattering. She wanted to put on her coat, but she couldn’t move.

She could feel her lips turning blue. “I’m frightened,” she said to Edek.

“There is nothing to be frightened of, Ruthie,” he said. It didn’t reassure her. If she became any more immobile, she thought, her blood would halt. It would just stop in whatever artery or vein it happened to be cours-ing through. And she would be frozen stiff. “This is not something to be frightened about,” Edek said.

“Could you help me put my coat on?” Ruth said. Edek got up and helped Ruth on with the coat.

“I do only want to go for one hour or two hours maximum,” he said.

One or two hours, she thought. What could they discover in one or two hours that could be so bad? Why did she think it would be a discovery?

Maybe Edek wanted one last look at Kamedulska Street. She held her teeth together to stop her jaw from making its involuntary movements.

“There is probably nothing there,” Edek said.

“I thought we had established that,” said Ruth.

“I have to dig a little bit,” Edek said. Dig, Ruth thought. Dig where?

Why did her father always speak in such cryptic, clipped sentences?

“Dig where?” said Ruth.

“In Kamedulska Street, of course,” Edek said. Ruth was startled. “My cousin Herschel did bury something there,” Edek said.

“So the old man was right,” Ruth said. “There is something buried there.”

“There was something buried there,” Edek said. “I do not know if it is still there.”

“It is still there,” she said suddenly. Edek looked at her. He looked disturbed. She was disturbed herself. Why did she have to say things like that?

It had come out of her mouth, with no warning. It is still there. The words had been uttered before she had even known about them.

“How do you know this?” Edek said.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I’m probably just guessing.”

T O O M A N Y M E N

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“I did never tell you about this,” Edek said.

“It was just a guess,” Ruth said. Edek looked at her suspiciously. “It was a guess,” she said, “and I had a fifty percent chance of being right. Whatever it is is going to be there or not be there.”

“Do you know what it is?” Edek said.

“It’s something small,” Ruth said. Edek shook his head. He looked a bit pale. “I don’t know why I said that,” Ruth said.

“It is something very small, Ruthie,” Edek said quietly.