No Time for Tears (49 page)

Read No Time for Tears Online

Authors: Cynthia Freeman

BOOK: No Time for Tears
12.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Me …
Sheine …

Quickly she opened the door, hugged Sheine to her in happiness and relief. When the pleasurable shock of seeing one another had subsided, the two scrutinized one another. Sheine was chic and blond. Chavala looked like she had just arrived from Pinsk.

Sheine asked, “Why are you dressed like this?”

“Well, darling, it’s a long story. The truth is it’s so silly I don’t know where to begin. You see, there’s a lot of jewelry to be bought here in East Berlin … because of the refugees … it’s like when mama had the earrings. You know what I mean? Well, anyway, they like to sell to their own. If I was dressed up they would think—” She couldn’t go on with his travesty. “Why should I lie to you … you’re my sister … but no one else knows. No one. The truth is, Sheine, I’m doing something very bad. I came to Europe to buy diamonds on the black market…”

Sheine, not surprisingly, took a few moments to absorb
this
, not to mention its consequences … “You mean … you’re
smuggling
jewels into—”

“That’s what I’m doing. Aren’t I terrible? Don’t answer that.”

“But why?” Sheine shook her head. “You were making such a good living … that’s what you wrote in your letter—”

“I am … but not enough. Not enough at all. Oh yes, you heard from Dvora, but she didn’t tell you how bad things have been for her … It took money, a great deal of it, with the baby being sick, and what you don’t know is … I’m sorry to say to you … poor Lazarus was killed and Raizel had nothing. Chia goes to college … oh, did I tell you? She’s going to get married, you know Moishe already is. What can I say? I could work myself up to poverty in one generation.”

“And if you get caught? Have you thought of that?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it, that’s all I’ve done since I started this whole
meshuggene mishegoss.
Why do you think I look like an old lady of ninety? I’m sure that under the
sheitel
is plenty of white hair.”

“I really don’t know what to say—”

“Neither do I, except that if I have the
mazel
to get away with this it will be the
last
time, take my word … Now enough about me. How are you, Sheine?”

She hesitated for a moment, then: “Pride is a foolish thing, Chavala, and in the beginning of my marriage I didn’t want you to know how unhappy I really was, so I made the letters sound like life was all sunshine and roses … but since we’re sisters and you’ve been so honest with me … Well, in the beginning, when I first arrived in Berlin, I had a very difficult time. Being a secret Jew and living with an anti-Semitic mother-in-law almost gave me a nervous breakdown. Maybe it did. Anyway, with Gunter’s support and the help of a psychiatrist, I’m able to live with the deception … You see, Chavala, I’ve learned that life has its price, and we have to pay for our sins. I’ve paid for mine.” She said it simply, directly. No tears or wringing of hands.

“I wish you had told me sooner, how terrible it must have been for you—”

“It war. But it’s better now. Not perfect. Better. I’ve learned to put things in their proper place. At least I think I have. Anyway, something wonderful has happened.
I’m expecting a child
.”

“Oh, Sheine, I’m so happy for you.”

“And what a joy it is to be sitting here telling the news to you.”

“And your husband? How does he feel about it?”

“Gunter is beside himself … I suppose my nature is a little bit like mama’s when it comes to having children, we’d almost resigned ourselves to being childless at first. But it seems miracles do happen.”

Miracles indeed, Chavala thought … “When are you expecting?”

“In eight months.” She laughed rather bitterly. “At least I seem to have redeemed myself in my mother-in-law’s eyes. Maybe she’s forgiven Gunter for marrying beneath himself—”


Beneath
himself? Some nerve—”

“I was born Sheine Rabinsky, and Sheine Rabinsky didn’t exactly fit her Germanic ideal, wasn’t one of the fair
frauleins
she’d hoped Gunter would marry and make babies with.”

Chavala looked at Sheine more closely now. “Does all that explain your blond hair?”

“Partly. And at least I don’t stand out like a sore thumb in the blond world we move in. Besides, what does it matter? I made my choice … I’ll make the best of it … Now, tell me about the new baby, and Reuven … and Dovid …”

“The new baby’s not so little anymore. Joshua’s four, and Reuven’s not too pleased with me for not living in Palestine. I can’t say I entirely blame him, and I do miss him terribly … As for Dovid, he’s very involved with politics, with the creation of a homeland. He’s quite a man … as you well remember, Sheine.”

From the sound of Chavala’s voice Sheine knew that much was left unsaid. Just as she had kept to herself for so long her early passion for Dovid. Still, she asked, “How are things between you?”

“I’m not sure. Can we let it go at that for the moment?” She just couldn’t bear thinking the unthinkable about Dovid and another woman, let alone talk about it. Not even with Sheine… maybe especially not with Sheine…

The shadows of dusk shone through the dingy lace curtains. The hours had fled too soon. Today’s reunion had been so rich that Sheine almost was able to forget that they weren’t back in that little village south of Odessa, sitting around mama’s kitchen table drinking tea the way they’d done when they were children …

But now the time had come to leave the past. Getting up, she looked closely at Chavala, then said, “Chavala, seeing you is the greatest gift you could have given me, and if ever there were times in our lives when we were not close, well, I regret that. This has for me more than made up for it. I love you, and I pray that everything you want happens. You deserve it. Please tell the others to keep in touch. Now I’ll miss you all more than ever…”

The next day Mr. and Mrs. Moses Epstein, their suitcases filled with prayer books and religious objects, took the train to Hamburg, where they immediately boarded a ship bound for New York City. Traveling on U.S. passports, they had no trouble with customs. That prospect was yet to come on the other side of the ocean. Chavala and Benny decided not to think about it. And for once Chavala welcomed rough seas … she could focus her attention on her queasy stomach instead of the prospect of being led off to jail…

Chavala and Benny looked out to the magnificent harbor of Manhattan, and there stood that lady with the torch held aloft. Her welcoming “Give me your poor” did not apply to these two standing on deck. When they finally reached customs the supposedly pregnant Mrs. Epstein trembled inwardly as the officer asked questions, then went through a cursory examination of Mr. and Mrs. Moses Epstein’s paper suitcases.

Everything seemed in order. The asthmatic Chasid, Moses Epstein, stood at attention during the procedure. It was that or collapse. His wife merely died a thousand deaths. At last they were dismissed and waved on. As they were about to get into a cab, Benny’s shoelace, already loose, became untied, and the shoe with the five-inch hollow heel became detached from his foot. By the time he’d retrieved it and pulled the laces tight, Chavala had nearly fainted into the cab.

Chavala sat in the basement of the
landsman
, her recovery nearly complete. After a warm greeting, he proceeded to take inventory, going meticulously through every packet. To Chavala it seemed hours. Finally he smiled. “
Mazel tov.
You have more than enough merchandise here to open two stores. The goods is good. Believe me.”

She took a deep breath, let it out “What can I say, how do I thank you?”

“When I see the store with your name on it, that will be my thanks.”

She put her arms around him. He did look like a
tzaddik.
“I’ll never forget you for this, and I’ll pay you back every dime.
You
believe me.”

He shook his head, “I know … I know. Worried about you, I’m not.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

For once in Yussel Melnetsky’s life he felt loved. Mumbling under his breath, he said, “That’s better than money.
I
owe
you
…”

That night was a busy, happy one at Moishe and Julie’s apartment on West End Avenue. Joshua was so happy and relieved to see his mother again, he scarcely left her side. Although none of them knew it, the presents they received had not been purchased in Berlin but at Macy’s department store. Well, Joshua cared nothing about the geography of the train set (made in Germany) that went over trestles and under bridges. But he wouldn’t, not even for his mother, wear the Tyrolean suit with the lederhosen and the gray felt hat with a feather, which Chavala bought in a shop on Fifty-seventh Street and Madison Avenue—made in Germany. Maybe he already had more sense than she did, Chavala thought

From the dining room Julie summoned everyone in to dinner. Julie’s mother, an attractive if frail woman, was there, as well as Chia and Lenny Moscowitz and his parents.

“Well,” said Moishe, standing with a glass of wine in his hand, “I have an important announcement to make … Julie and I are going to have a baby.”

Squeals of congratulations.

Then Chia looked at Lenny and said with a straight face, “Well, I hope it won’t be in June … because Lenny and I are getting married then.”

Chavala had to hold back the tears, remembering the night Chia was born. The memories were too many and the past too close tonight. In her mind she was standing with a new child in her arms, back in that kitchen south of Odessa … “You are mine … you were given unto my keeping …. little Chia … mama’s life will be lived through you …”
I’ve kept my promise, mama. For all the bad things I’ve done, all the mistakes I’ve made, this makes it worthwhile …

Compared to the great announcement they’d just heard, hers about the new store seemed insignificant. It could keep. Tomorrow was time enough.

CHAPTER THIRTY

I
T SEEMED A CENTURY
since they’d first reached the shores of America. Chavala had never dreamed how she was going to make a living. A day to remember. It was the worst blizzard that New York had had in years, and they’d barely had sufficient clothes to keep them warm. The snow fell between the eaves of Mrs. Zuckerman’s attic, and Moishe had complained about the apartment on Delancey Street … Well, maybe it was a century ago … it was 1920, and in the short period of five years she’d worked herself up a very long way. Only in America…

Chavala signed the lease on a store at Fifth Avenue and Forty-first Street. It was 1925. America was riding the crest of her prosperity wave. Chavala wanted her store to fit the times. The lighting was soft. Muted pearl-gray silk covered the walls, and in front of the gold French tables Louis XV chairs were positioned so the customers could contemplate the merchandise in comfort.

Chavala, Moishe and Julie stood in front and watched the sign, “Landau’s,” being hoisted in all its splendor.

The pawnshop was now operated by a close friend of Mr. Leibowitz who was too old to stand on his feet any longer; his honesty, of course, was beyond question.

Since the
landsman
felt it was time for Benny to become a respected merchant, he suggested to Chavala that the onetime “Mr. Epstein” should run the store near Harlem. Chavala agreed quickly; it was the least she could do.

All that was left was to manufacture her own jewelry. It was also a matter of need. So as not to be obliged to show records of wholesale purchases, Chavala and the
landsman
realized that the smuggled loose diamonds would have to be mounted. She found a loft on the Bowery, where the rent was right and where there were men out of the labor market so far as their ages were concerned but not their valuable experience. Some were stooped, most white-haired, their pants bagging on frail limbs and with belts taken in too many notches. They had been skilled and respected craftsmen, first in the old country, then for years in America. But age had overtaken them, or so they were told. Chavala’s offer to them was a simple one, and they blessed her for it … Do what you do best, gentlemen, and name your price—within reason, of course … They smiled and went about their jobs like reborn human beings. Someone had given them a chance to get out of the alleys, the dark corners, literally and spiritually. Her name was Chavala Landau.

Chavala also became a designer, thank you very much. She designed what the old men executed, and maybe she wasn’t educated at some fancy school for design, and maybe her sketches were all in her head, and she didn’t talk like she had her lips buttoned and didn’t know whether she was a boy or a girl, but she managed, along with a little help from those noses-in-the-air Cartier, Van Cleef & Arpels, and, not to be a piker, Mr. Tiffany too. So she used her imagination—under the spur of necessity—to make a few adjustments … a diamond instead of an emerald, a blue star sapphire instead of a ruby, but depend on it, the designs, whatever they were, she
sold
like a master craftsman. And who was hurt? Nobody, just like with the smuggling … except a few dollars in duty that didn’t get collected into somebody’s pocket… And who could argue that many, many were helped?

Between the three stores and the manufacturing plant, Chavala began truly to acquire a sizable bank account. She provided for her family, now they would never be in want. Every month Raizel received a check. As for Dvora, she was more cautious with her since she knew about Ari’s resistance. It was a delicate subject, but she’d found out about an outfit called Harvester that made large farming equipment, and she knew what Ari needed was a mechanized plow. Except she couldn’t just send it to him tied in a red ribbon and say Happy Chanukah, so she decided to ask Dovid to help, welcoming at the same time an opportunity to be in touch. That evening she wrote a letter:

My Dearest Dovid,

As always my thought are of you and Reuven. I pray that all goes well with you and, especially, that you are happy. Joshua is a lovely little boy and talks about you constantly. In my heart I know that the time will come when we will be together. Permanently.

Now, Dearest Dovid, I need your help. Knowing your ability to handle delicate matters, I would like for Ari to have a mechanized plow. Let me know what you think would be best for his use and suggest the necessity of it. I will arrange to have the money transferred to Jerusalem. Of course he must think the loan is from you or he will not accept it. When he pays you back, the money will be put into an account for the children. What else can I say except thank you, thank you for your help.

Now, about things here. As you know, Chia is getting married in June to a wonderful young man I’ve written you about before. As you already know, I still cannot get over the fact that the family, and
you,
Dearest Dovid, will be together on that memorable day. Well, Darling Dovid, what can I say, except that I live for that day.

With all my love,

Chavala

Other books

Not Quite A Bride by Kirsten Sawyer
Slouching Towards Gomorrah by Robert H. Bork
Lavender Lady by Carola Dunn
The Huntress by Michelle O'Leary
Family Vault by Charlotte MacLeod
Awake by Egan Yip
Seducing Anne by Chanse Lowell, Marti Lynch, Shenani Whatagans
The Lion's Shared Bride by Bonnie Burrows
Undead by Frank Delaney