The Book of Daniel (21 page)

I have an idea for an article. If I write it maybe I can sell it and see my name in print. The idea is the dynamics of radical thinking. With each cycle of radical thought there is a stage of genuine creative excitement during which the connections are made. The radical discovers connections between available data and the root responsibility. Finally he connects everything. At this point he begins to lose his following. It is not that he has incorrectly connected everything, it is that he has connected everything. Nothing is left outside the connections. At this point society becomes bored with the radical. Fully connected in his characterization it has achieved the counterinsurgent rationale that allows it to destroy him. The radical is given the occasion for one last discovery—the connection between society and his death. After the radical is dead his early music haunts his persecutors. And the liberals use this to achieve power. I have searched and searched for one story from history that is invulnerable to radical interpretation. I mean it is harder than it sounds and if you think not give it a try. Here is one from the
AMERICAN HERITAGE HISTORY OF FLIGHT
—I found it today and it might just stand up: In 1897 three Swedes decided that the way to get to the North Pole was by means of a free balloon flight. They set off from Spitzbergen, floating up in a northerly direction, and they were never heard from again. Then, thirty-three
years later, in 1930, a party of Norwegian explorers came upon a camp in the frozen Arctic wastes and there were the three ice-cake bodies of the Swedish balloonists. Also in the camp was a camera and in the camera was film. The thirty-three-year-old film was developed and yielded snapshots of the balloonists in their last camp standing over a bear they had hunted, raising a flag, etc—

Ascher’s homburg was pushed back on his head like a cowboy hat, and his overcoat was open. His hands were clasped behind his back under the overcoat. He tilted back on his heels and forward again, while the children’s Aunt Frieda sat on the couch weeping.

“I’m a widow, I have no one,” Aunt Frieda said. “It’s too much of a burden. I live in three rooms. Where can I put them? I stand on my feet twelve hours a day. I get up at six-thirty every morning. On my day off I haven’t got the strength to get out of bed. How can I afford to do what you’re asking me.”

“Mrs. Cohn, I’m not asking you to do anything. Paul is your brother, not mine. I am the lawyer. Whatever you decide, that determines what I will do.”

“And what does my sister Ruth say?”

“I have discussed the problem with her only on the phone.”

“Listen, don’t waste your time. Selfish? The word wasn’t invented till Ruthie.” Aunt Frieda dismissed her sister with a wave of the hand. The gesture caught Daniel’s eye. His Aunt Frieda sat with her feet planted on the floor in lace-up shoes with thick heels. He turned quickly back to the TV set, having seen more than he wanted to of Aunt Frieda’s stocking above the knee. He found her repulsive. She had that hairy mole over the corner of her mouth. She looked like his father around the jaw, the mouth. She wore thick horn-rimmed glasses.

“I understand her husband is a diabetic, a very sick man. In any case I somehow feel that you would know better how to handle the situation than your sister.”

Aunt Frieda nodded. “God help me, I was always the responsible one. From the time we were children. If you didn’t watch Paul he would destroy himself. He never learned how to cross the street. If you didn’t put the food in front of him he wouldn’t eat. If you didn’t hold his money he would lose it or let
someone take it from him. I couldn’t count on Ruthie. Ruthie was always a lazy thing. It was Frieda who solved the problems. It was Frieda, that good-natured slob, who was always there to get them out of trouble.”

“You are the oldest?”

“By eight years. And when I was twenty my father followed my mother to the grave and I was now the mother and father. It ruined my life. I’m telling you, Mr. Ascher, my life was never my own.”

Her tears flowed. Ascher turned his attention to the television console shining in the corner. The children were sitting on the floor, too close he thought. Too close. He made no move to interrupt their attention. If they could get inside the television they would be better off still. On the screen that Hopalong Cassidy threw his lasso through the air. Hopalong’s horse reared up and braked to a stop. The lasso pulled the crook off his horse. The crook looked up sullenly from the dust with his arms pinned to his sides by the rope. From his white horse Hopalong laughed down at him. Ascher thought: We are a primitive people.

“They seem to enjoy the television,” Ascher said. “Maybe we should make an exception. Do you have a television, Mrs. Cohn?”

“What? No, no—who can afford a television?”

“It is an expensive appliance,” Ascher said. “The man will be here soon to assess the belongings. I will tell him not to include the television.”

The children’s Aunt Frieda opened her pocketbook and brought forth a handkerchief. She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes. She wiped her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have always had such luck. My husband, God rest his soul, didn’t last. Ruthie, poor Ruthie, has her hands full with an invalid. And Paul—can there be a greater tragedy? To turn into a Red. My Pauly, a Commonist! And you know there was no more religious man than my father. Are you a religious man, Mr. Ascher?”

Ascher shrugged. “I go to temple.”

“My father is turning over in his grave. That his son became a Red. And worse!”

“What do you mean worse?”

“God only knows. I will be lucky to keep my store. If someone should make the connection with my maiden name. If my neighbors find out.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing, nothing. But how do I explain who these children are. How do I explain where their parents are.”

“Their parents are in jail. They are in jail because their bail bond is prohibitive. Their bail bond is prohibitive because in the current climate it helps the government to establish how guilty they must be and how dangerous they must be. If the shame of that is too much for you then you can lie. You can say they are in Florida. You can say they are traveling in Europe. Isaacson is not an uncommon name.”

Aunt Frieda put her handkerchief in her pocketbook and snapped the clasps. “I don’t blame him,” she said. “He could not help himself. I blame her. She’s the one. She was his ruination. He was putty in her hands from the very beginning. When he was in the Army in the war she went to Washington to live with him. Before they were married she lived with him I In sin she lived with him. In school as a boy Paul never got less than A’s. On all his Regents in high school, ninety-nine in this, a hundred in that. He had a ninety-six average in Townsend Harris high school which was nothing but brilliant children. And then to get these crazy ideas—all right, so you join a club in college, it’s the thing to do. But he would have outgrown all that craziness. But she was like that, too. And she drove him. It was she who did this!”

“Mrs. Cohn—”

“I will never forgive her for what she has done to my Pauly. For what she has done to all of us. To all our lives. She is the one. No one else.”

“Mrs. Cohn, do you really want the children to hear this?”

“Don’t worry, they know how I feel. Besides, they are not listening. Mmmmm, what is going to happen to them.” Aunt Frieda held her hand to her cheek as if she had a toothache.

“So what do I understand from your answer?”

“I don’t know,” Aunt Frieda said. “I don’t know.”

“They can’t stay here,” Ascher said. “The black man can’t
take care of them. The neighbor woman can’t take care of them. I can’t take care of them. There is no money for the rent, there is no money for this house, do you understand, Mrs. Cohn?”

Aunt Frieda moaned with her hand to her face.

“A man is going to come and make an offer for the furniture. A hundred, a hundred fifty dollars at the most is what we’ll get. Tomorrow in court I am filing a pauper’s oath for your brother. Do you know what that means?”

“Vey iss mir, vey iss mir …”

“It means the court will appoint me the attorney and the court will pay my fees so that I can continue to represent your brother and his wife.
Vershtey?
It means also that these children are the children of paupers and have no place to go. If you will not take them in, Mrs. Cohn, your flesh and blood, they will be out on the street.
Vershteyen zie?
They will be wards of the state.”

“Babies!” Aunt Frieda wailed. “What do I know from babies!”

“Now what I suggest is that you get their belongings together—maybe the boy can help you—and get them ready to leave.”

“Now? This minute?”

“It is imperative.” Ascher looked at his watch. “The man will be here to give me a price for the furniture. I don’t think it is good for children to see that. I don’t want them to watch their house dismantled.”

“I got to lug baggage to Brooklyn? I can’t lift things.”

“Don’t worry, they have little enough. I will send you in a cab.”

“Where will I put them? What do they eat?”

“Lady,” Ascher shouted. “They are your brother’s children. They are not animals from the zoo. What is the matter with you?
Vas iss der mair mit dein kopf?
Have you no pity? Don’t you know what trouble is? Don’t you know what terrible trouble these people are in?”

Abruptly Ascher sat down. He sat like a king with his arms on the arms of the chair, cooling off in his rage while Aunt Frieda smiled placatingly and wept at the same time.

Her apartment had an indescribable smell. It was the smell
of a withering, unloved body. It was the smell of dust and of Brooklyn air-shaft darkness. It was the smell of slipcovers on the furniture and double locks on the doors. It was the smell of lights that couldn’t be turned on because it was a waste of money. It was the smell of no pleasure to be found around any corner, down any hall, in any closet. It was the smell of a stranger’s drab home, where I didn’t belong. It was the smell of a life of no account to anyone.

“Daniel,” Ascher said, “I want to talk to you a minute. Come in here.”

Daniel rose from the floor and followed the lawyer into the kitchen. Ascher sat down at the kitchen table and turned to face him. Ascher saw Susan in the doorway. “No no, little girl, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. You may go back and watch the program.”

In answer Susan sidled just inside the doorway, with her back to the wall. She stared at Ascher gravely.

“Very well,” the lawyer said. “You can listen too. Children, your Aunt Frieda has consented to take you into her home until your parents are free again. This may be a month or two. Maybe three. But I have spoken to your parents, each of them, and they have decided that under the circumstances, that would be the best thing. In the meantime the house will be closed up here.”

“We heard you,” Daniel said. “We know.”

“Yes. Well, I cannot pretend this is a happy adventure. But your mother and father are most worried about you and want to make sure that you are cared for and not neglected while they are away from you. You know she has a candy store downstairs in the same house where she lives.”

“Yes,” Daniel said. “But she doesn’t let you touch anything. She’s a stupid woman.”

“Shhh.” Ascher put a finger to his lips. “She may be hard to understand. People who are afraid are sometimes hard to understand. Being afraid makes people say things they don’t mean. Can you appreciate that?”

“I suppose.”

“She’ll learn how to be good from you, Daniel. She’s not a
mean person. She’ll learn how to be strong from your example. You’re a wonderful boy. Both you children are fine children,” Ascher said, turning his eyes toward Susan.

“Where is Mommy?” Susan said.

Ascher sighed. “In jail. She’s in jail.”

“What is jail?”

“Jail is a place people stay instead of home. Like a hotel. Like a school. They are other places to stay instead of home.”

“Jail is worse,” Daniel said to Susan. “You can’t come home if you want to.”

“All right,” Ascher said. “All right.”

“Will they put me in jail?” Susan said.

“No, don’t worry.”

“Is my mommy coming home?”

“Daniel, I cannot go on explaining these things to her.”

“Is my mommy dead?”

Ascher stood up and raised his arms in exasperation. “Please, little girl! Enough. Your mommy is not dead!” The gesture startled Susan. She burst into tears. Daniel went to her and put his arm around her. “She misses our mother and father,” Daniel explained over his shoulder.

“What is wrong, what is the matter?” Aunt Frieda called from upstairs.

“Nothing,” Ascher yelled. “Nothing is the matter. Now children,” he said lowering his voice, “there are things to be done. Shhh, don’t cry, Susan. Your aunt is packing up your clothes. I want you to help her so she’ll know what to take. Any of your toys and things like that, you will have to show her what is important to you. And you both look—unkempt. Can’t you wash yourselves a little bit? Can’t you make yourselves clean?”

“I’ll wash her,” Daniel said. “And there are things like our toothbrushes. We’ll have to take those.”

“That’s right.”

Daniel patted Susan till she was no longer crying. Her body shook with sobs that were like hiccups. He said to Ascher: “Why can’t we go see them? The guards can search me and they can search her and they’ll see that we don’t have guns or anything like that.”

“Well, it is not a matter of guards, Daniel. Your mother and
father both feel that it would upset you to see them in the jail.”

“Why?”

“Because when the time came to leave they wouldn’t be able to leave with you. And you and especially your sister might not understand and be upset.”

“Maybe they would be upset too,” Daniel reflected.

“That’s right. And so it would be worse than not seeing you at all.”

“Well, how will they know where we are?” Daniel said.

“They asked me to ask your aunt if you could stay with her, I will report to them that you are with her.”

“Do they know the address?”