Briar Rose (4 page)

The Bukowskis, in loud unmodulated voices, were talking about Gemma in the TV room, their hands describing circles that had nothing to do with the subject.

And a small knot of children-

Shana's two girls and Sylvia's little boy and the Berkowitz twins-were playing tag on the stairs. Becca knew that she should go and deal with their noise because she could see it was beginning to bother her mother, who sat swollen-eyed on the piano bench, surrounded by chatting neighbors. But Becca couldn't move. She continued to cut pies to stop the shaking in her hands.

On their way down the stairs, Sylvia and Shana dealt swiftly and professionally with the children, a kind of kangaroo court of mothers, sending them outside, even without their coats. Becca smiled.

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At any other time her sisters would have erred on the side of caution, loading up the children with sweaters and jackets. She took it as a sign that they were more moved by Gemma's death than either one would admit out loud.

"I could use some help," she called, a kind of peace offering. But they veered off into the family room and Becca felt that she couldn't

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intrude any further into their grief. Instead she began to cut a pea pie with a kind of frantic ferocity that looked a great deal I

unspoken anger. Becca considered it part of her day's endless row.

She thought of Gemma lying in the bed, eyes closed, whisper

"I am Briar Rose."

Sleeping Beauty. How could she think of that? Gemma's fine hair I escaped its careful braiding and fanned out against the pillow. I a bit of the red still showed. Her skin, like old parchment on a b stretcher, had been maplike; the careful traceries of her age shov where and how she had lived. Except that none of them knew v she had lived as a child. Only that she had come to America be the Second World War.

"Maybe, Daddy, maybe she really did live in a castle somew in Europe. Like the Rothschilds, you know."

Her father, a handsome, balding man, his face still firm unde chin and his moustache a white parenthesis around his m(

smiled and shook his head. "No castle, sweetheart. That's jusl of Gemma's stories."

"She seemed awful certain of it."

"Nothing about your grandmother was certain," he said.

her date of birth, not her country of origin-not even her na:

"Gemma," Becca said automatically.

"That was because Shana couldn't say Grandma."

Becca looked down and cut another slice of pie, a thin slic small to be of interest to anyone but a dieter. "I knew that. 11

Dawma. Dawna Prinz. At least that's what I put down oi family tree we had to do in fourth grade. I remember bec almost had to do the whole thing over because I spelled it, till Mama found some white-out." She looked around for sorn else to cut.

Her father took the knife from her and set it carefully on as carefully as he placed his surgical instruments when I

finished with them.

"Dawna was the name she chose to be called," he said

"But in the old country, she had another narne-I'm sure."

"What was it?"

"How should I know?" Dr. Berlin shrugged broadly., "I her son-in-law. For almost thirty years. I was lucky she told Briar Rose

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daughter's name when we met. A great woman for secrets, your grandmother." He laughed and Becca tried to feel shocked that he could act like that today, of all days. Then, drawn into his laugh at last, as she always was, she let herself enjoy it.

Picking up several of the plates, she began circulating around the room, exchanging pieces of pie for murmurs of sympathy. Little pockets of laughter seemed to fade as she approached. VVhen her hands were empty, she went back to get more pies.

By the time the neighbors left and only family remained, Becca was empty of tears. She sat at the kitchen table, eyes closed, listening.

Her mother and father seemed almost happy, washing and drying the good china by hand and talking over the things people had said

to them. From the living room came the sounds of CNN blaring the business news. She knew Shana and Sylvia and their husbands were collapsed in front of the television.

"Aunt Becca, tell us a story."

She opened her eyes. It was Benjamin, his fair hair cut in low bangs. He looked so much like his father, she smiled. Imagine trying to tell Mike a story! But Shana's two little girls were right by his side, their eyes pleading. "All right. But only one. What should I tell?"

"Seepin Boot," whispered Sarah. Benjamin punched her arm.

"Not that one. That's Gemma's!"

"I'd like to tell that one," Becca said. "Because it's Gemma's."

"Won't she be made" asked Susan.

"Don't be silly," Benjamin said. "She's dead."

"Well, ghosts could get mad," Susan countered.

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"Jews don't believe in ghosts," Benjamin stated with great author-ity. Then he looked over at Becca. "Do we?"

She shook her head, not because she didn't believe in ghosts, but because the conversation was obviously frightening Sarah, who leaned against her.

"Even if Gemma were a ghost," Becca said, "she'd be a loving ghost. And she would want me to tell Sleeping Beauty to you. In fact the very last thing she talked to me about was Briar Rose."

The shadow across Sarah's face lightened and she smiled. "Once upon a time .she prompted and Becca, smiling back, began.

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When the children were finally in bed, the adults gathered in dining room.

"Gemma left a regular will," Dr. Berlin said. "That's what coi of having lawyers in the family."

He nodded at Mike. "But Gen had a box of things which your mother and I thought we sh(

open tonight, now that we are all together."

"What's in it, Daddy?" Sylvia asked, pulling the black bow of her hair and running her fingernails lightly across the back of neck

"We don't know. It was Gemma's secret. Mama didn't know about it until we un-oacked the dresser vesterdav, the oi

Mrs. Berlin interrupted, "It's full of ... well ... stuff." She sl Dr. Berlin patted his wife's hand twice, then stood and went the kitchen, returning with a wooden box with a carved rose

"Not another damned rose," Howie said. "Gemma was a

"What do you know about such things?" Sylvia snal Mike began to laugh nervous and Dr. Berlin held up his

Shana and Sylvia stopped their argument at once. In the st silence Becca could hear her mother's ragged breathing, just ~

"Can -Ye see 1-hat's in the box KA-nmn?-" 'RprCq nSleed n le, Slowly Mrs. Berlin raised the lid and they stared down into nest of photos and papers. Then she took out the pieces of pap at a time, setting them carefully on the dining room table un

"And these clippings," Shana said, tapping one of the yel

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Briar Rose

35

"Let's start at one end together," suggested Dr. Berlin, picking up a photograph and turning it over. "Evie and me, 1945," he read aloud. He passed the photograph around. It was a black-and-white picture of a woman in an ill-fitting cotton dress holding a child with blonde pigtails and big eyes.

"Is that you, Mama?" Becca asked, pointing to the child.

Her father laughed. "Of course. Who could miss those eyes."

"What a ghastly dress," Sylvia said. "Like flour sacking."

"It was the times," Mrs. Berlin murmured. "But I've never seen that picture before."

Becca picked up the next paper. "It's some sort of entry form,"

she said. "Into America." She looked slowly around the table. "For a Gid Mandlestein."

"Gitl?" Shana asked.

"Maybe that was Gemma's real name," Howie said, "No one I knew ever called her Gitl," Mrs.

Berlin said. "But then

I knew no one from the old country. I thought her name was Genevieve."

"You didn't know your own mother's real name?" Mike was amazed.

"I thought I was named Eve because of her being Genevieve,"

Mrs. Berlin said. "And then she took Dawna as a nickname so we'd be Dawn and Eve. She joked about it."

"And I always thought she took Dawna from the story," Sylvia said.

"What story?" Shana was clearly puzzled.

"Briar Rose, of course. You know-the princess Aurora. Dawn."

"That's too deep for me," Howie said.

"Everything's too . . ." Sylvia started.

"Syl!" The warning from Dr. Berlin was enough. He picked up another photograph. "This one.

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What do you think?" It was a passport picture of a very handsome young man with high cheekbones and a dark moustache. "Gemma's brother?"

"She never mentioned brothers."

"A cousin, perhaps? A boyfriend?"

"Your father, Mama?" Becca gently asked the question they'd all been thinking.

"I don't know. She never spoke of any husband. Or any family e

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Briar Rose

35

"Let's start at one end together," suggested Dr. Berlin, picking up a photograph and turning it over. "Evie and me, 1945," he read aloud. He passed the photograph around. It was a black-and-white

picture of a woman in an ill-fitting cotton dress holding a child with blonde pigtails and big eyes.

"Is that you, Mama?" Becca asked, pointing to the child.

Her father laughed. "Of course. VVho could miss those eyes."

"What a ghastly dress," Sylvia said. "Like flour sacking."

"It was the times," Mrs. Berlin murmured. "But I've never seen that picture before."

Becca picked up the next paper. "It's some sort of entry form,"

she said. "Into America." She looked slowly around the table. "For a Gid Mandlestein."

"Gitl?" Shana asked.

"Maybe that was Gemma's real name," Howie said.

"No one I knew ever called her Gitl," Mrs. Berlin said. "But then I knew no one from the old country. I thought her name was Genevieve."

"You didn't know your own mother's real name?" Mike was amazed.

"I thought I was named Eve because of her being Genevieve,"

Mrs. Berlin said. "And then she took Dawna as a nickname so we'd be Dawn and Eve. She joked
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about it."

"And I always thought she took Dawna from the story," Sylvia lff"~""said , "What story?" Shana was clearly puzzled.

"Briar Rose, of course. You know-the princess Aurora. Dawn."

"That's too deep for me," Howie said.

"Everything's too . . ." Sylvia started.

"Syl!" The warning from Dr. Berlin was enough. He picked up another photograph. "This one.

What do you think?" It was a

passport picture of a very handsome young man with high cheekbones and a dark moustache. "Gemma's brother?"

"She never mentioned brothers."

"A cousin, perhaps? A boyfriend?"

"Your father, Mama?" Becca gently asked the question they'd all been thinking, "I don't know.

She never spoke of any husband. Or any family

Al

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at all. Only that everyone in the castle had fallen asleep and she ha(

been rescued by the prince."

"Obsessive-compulsive," Howie said.

"Talk to us about teeth, Weisman," Sylvia warned.

There were newspaper clippings, several more photographs of t~

same woman in a background filled with people as poorly dressf as she, and a small black velvet bag. Mrs. Berlin opened the bag wii trembling hands, drawing out a man's ring with a large, dark ston

She passed it to Becca.

"Maybe that was our grandfather's ring," said Sylvia.

"The prince?" Howie asked. "Or Mr. Prinz?"

"I don't think she ... well, I'm not sure she ... I wonder if s even knew who my father was," Mrs.

Berlin said. "It was the w

Things were crazy. She just managed to get out in time."

"In time? But Mama," Becca said, "the date on that entry fc is August 14, 1944. She didn't get here until the middle of the wz

"That can't be right," Mrs. Berlin said, looking puzzled.

"Maybe Gemma isn't Gitl," Mike said. "After all, you n(

heard her called that."

"Then why keep the form?" Dr. Berlin asked.

Becca held the ring up to the light and gasped. "Mama, the something written in the inside."

Dr. Berlin took the ring from her and went into his st emerging with a magnifying glass in hand.

"There are three le and a date-JMP 1928."

"Not Gid and not Mandlestein," said Mike, looking a bit fied.

"It's a man's ring, idiot," Sylvia said, but she said it with ob, fondness. "P for Prinz."

"What does it all mean?" Shana asked.

"Only Gemma knew," said Dr. Berlin.

"And it's too late to ask her," Mike added.

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"Unless you believe in ghosts," Becca said. "And Benjarr sures me that we Jews don't."

"Obsessive-compulsive."

"Shut up, Howie," the three sisters said together.

Dr. Berlin set the ring down next to the photo of the wom~

the child. "It's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an eni,, "Russia," said Sylvia, Briar Rose

"Churchill," added Shana.

"That's my girls!" Dr. Berlin smiled.

"I'm going to solve it." Becca put her hand over the ring, cove the picture as well. "The riddle and the mystery and the enigma.