Portraits (11 page)

“You’re afraid of me? Why?”

Swallowing hard, she said, “Because of what you did to me last night.”

Jacob narrowed his eyes. “What did I do?”

She hesitated, pulling the sheet up under her chin without answering.

“Nothing will happen to you, tell me.”

“Well,” she started slowly, “I met you coming out of the saloon and asked if you’d like to come home with me.” She hesitated.

“Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, she said, “You were pretty drunk. Then, when we got here, you asked if I had some whiskey. You won’t get upset?”

He shook his head. “Just tell me what happened.”

“You drank the whole bottle and then…you went kind of crazy.”

“Crazy?”

“Yeah. I mean for no reason, you began to beat me up. I never had a guy do that—a lot of other things but never that. I thought you were going to kill me. You kept hollerin’ out ‘Lotte.’ I really think you thought I was this Lotte.”

Jacob was stunned. He couldn’t remember any of it. He shut his eyes and held his head with his hands. My God, he could have killed this girl. Of course, he wanted to punish Lotte. Yes, it was Lotte he had been beating.

The long silence was so great the girl was beginning to wonder what he was planning. Running her tongue around her dry lips, she asked quietly, afraid to antagonize him, “Are you all right?”

Jacob was brought up sharply. “Yes, I’m all right.” Looking at the girl he asked, “Why didn’t you try to get away?”

“Listen, you’re very strong. Besides, you locked the door and threw the key away.”

Jacob sighed and rubbed his throbbing forehead. “What else did I do?”

“Well, you knocked me down on the bed. I got to be honest, I never had a guy do it so hard. I thought my insides was going to bust.”

He couldn’t listen to any more. Quickly, he got up and started to dress. Still frightened, she asked, “How you gonna get out, mister?”

Jacob took the jacknife out of his back pocket and stuck it into the lock. One turn and the door opened. He reached inside his coat pocket, took out whatever money he had and, without counting it, put it on the dresser. He looked at the girl once more, shook his head. “I’m sorry. I really mean that.” And as he turned and hurried from the room he was even sorrier that it had not been Lotte…

He didn’t go to work that day. What difference did it make? What difference did anything make?

After wandering aimlessly for hours, he went home. He passed Esther in the kitchen without a word. She followed him into his room and watched as he took off his shoes and lay down. Putting his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. What he saw were the bruises he had inflicted on the young prostitute’s body. The first woman he’d ever taken, a whore, and he couldn’t even remember what it felt like. And it was his beloved Lotte who had driven him to such ugly violence.

This time, Esther did not question why he had not come home. Quietly she said, “Jacob, I know how sad you are. And why.”

He wanted to put his hands over his ears and shut out her voice. He couldn’t stand the sound of it; it was false. All the anger and suspicions of her came back…she’d only taken him in because of her own guilt…

Esther tried to comfort him. “You’ve been hurt terribly, Jacob, but believe me…”

He refused to listen to her, refused to believe her. Where was she when he was a little boy, on his own, by himself? It was damned easy for her now to be the good kind mother, now that he was a grown man. Well, no matter how hard he’d tried, the hurts and memories wouldn’t die. And why should they…?

He got off the bed, went to the kitchen cupboard, took out the brandy and started to drink.

Esther stood watching. “Jacob, this is not the answer.” Gently, she tried to take the bottle from him.

Breathing heavily, he looked at her.

“Please Jacob, let me try to help you.”

“You helped me enough. Do me a favor, leave me alone.” He returned to his room and lay down, turning his face to the wall.

For the next few days Jacob neither ate nor left his bed. Whenever Esther tried to bring him food, he ignored her. Not even Shlomo could divert him. He would speak to no one.

Esther never left the restaurant. In fact, she scarcely slept at night, lying half awake and listening in fear of what Jacob might do. Her worst, most secret fear was that he might do away with himself…She had said nothing to Gittel, knowing it would only add to her problems. Hershel had lost his job and they were barely surviving. But now the burden of silence was becoming too great; she simply had to share it Leaving Shlomo with Jacob, she went to her daughter’s flat and implored her to come talk to Jacob.

When the two women returned, Gittel went to Jacob’s room. Closing the door behind her, Gittel sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him. He almost frightened her. He hadn’t shaved or washed. His hair was unkempt, his eyes were flat, haunting. She took his hand gently and, trying to keep her voice even, said, “Jacob, I wish I had known. I would have been here sooner. You know that, don’t you, Jacob?”

No answer.

“Jacob, mama told me everything. You must listen to me. I know how terribly hurt you are. To love someone as you did and not have it returned is very painful. But when you met Lotte you were so young. It was the first time a girl came into your life. Please try to understand, you knew each other a very short time. In fact, you didn’t know each other at all. Maybe if you’d been able to stay and allow your friendship to grow this wouldn’t have happened. But you left, and even one year makes a very big difference, especially in a girl’s life. Lotte grew into a woman. I think what she did was very cruel, but you mustn’t let this ruin your life. She really wasn’t for you. If it had been meant to be, this wouldn’t have happened. Please, please, don’t let this make you so bitter. You’re very young and I know you will meet someone worthwhile…”

For the first time in five days, Jacob spoke. The anger in his eyes was not for Gittel. “I will never love or trust any woman again. I will never get married…never.” His voice was a monotone but his intensity was beyond doubt.

Kissing his hand, then holding it to her cheek, Gittel said, “What you feel now is very deep hurt, but time will heal it. You mustn’t think every woman is like Lotte.”

He flinched at the sound of her name. “I’m not going to find out. You’re the only good woman I know.”

“Thank you, but mama’s a good woman too.”

She saw the muscles in his jaw tighten.

“She did the best she could for us, Jacob. You mustn’t blame her for what you feel she did when you were a little boy. You must forget, Jacob. If you try to punish her you only hurt yourself. Let the past go, Jacob. Forget
that
, and forget Lotte. For your own sake.”

Nothing had changed in his expression, but she prayed something of what she’d said would get through. She waited as the long silence hung between them. All that could be said had been said. It would take time for Jacob. Still, in her heart, she knew nothing lasted forever. The threats he made today would change when he met the right girl. She tried very hard to convince herself of that.

Finally Gittel said, “Jacob, would you do me a favor?” She waited. When he did not answer she continued. “Please get out of bed, take a bath and eat something. You’ll feel better. Will you do it for me, Jacob? Please.” Slowly she pulled back the covers and waited.

He looked at her. She was right, he decided. I’m damn well not going to let any of them beat me down—no more. Getting out of bed, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Like a bum on the docks, he looked.

Gittel shut her eyes and, in her innocence, thanked God as Jacob opened the door.

As the months passed, his acute bitterness took another form. Jacob retreated into himself. He stopped going to
shul
and spoke as little as possible to his mother. He had, in fact, become like a boarder. Each week he paid for his room and board. When Esther tried to refuse it, Jacob told her in no uncertain terms that he would not live on her charity and that if she didn’t stop objecting he would take a room somewhere else.

Even with Shlomo there was not the closeness they’d once had. And although his love and admiration for Gittel remained, even with her he was remote and withdrawn.

He had no desire for women, sex was something he now totally rejected.

The only salvation in his life was his new job. He found employment in a glass factory in New Jersey.

In spite of the distance, he was the first to arrive and the last to leave. The work was hard, but that was what he needed—to work hard for
himself
. He was going to go into business, be somebody, his own boss. Not dependent on anybody, on any of
them
…

In the next year, Jacob’s salary was raised from nine dollars a week to sixteen. His loyalty as a worker had not gone unnoticed. He had never been late, never grumbled about working overtime, never complained about conditions, did his work, kept to himself and refused to join the men who wanted to organize…Although he was only seventeen he was promoted to foreman.

When he returned from work at night Jacob used the back door, avoiding Esther and her customers. This evening as he was taking off his coat, he looked across the inner hall to the kitchen and saw a young girl standing at the sink washing dishes. For a moment he was surprised. Was business so good that his mother needed help? He shrugged his shoulders and went to his room where he found Shlomo studying.

The boy looked up from his book. “You’re home early tonight How come?”

“Things were a little slow. Where’s mama?”

“Why do you ask? She’s waiting on customers, didn’t you see her?”

“No, I came through the back,” he answered, taking off his shirt.

“Why didn’t you say hello? It wouldn’t hurt, you know.”

“I was all sweaty. I want to get washed up.”

“Oh…well…Mama got a girl to help.”

“I saw,” he answered. Sarcastically he added, “Now, she won’t have to work so hard.”

“She didn’t do it for that reason,” Shlomo snapped back.

“No? Then why?”

“Because the girl had no place to live. And she’s not just a girl, her name is Sara Edelstein.”

“What does that have to do with her working here?”

“I just told you, she has no place to live.”

“Where’s she gonna sleep, in the kitchen?”

“No, in mama’s room, until she can get a job. In the meantime she’ll help.”

“So she’s going to live here?”

“Yes, mama got a cot for her.”

“In that case, I’m leaving.”

“Wait a minute, Jacob.” Shlomo jumped up from his chair. “You should be happy mama’s got someone to help her. Besides, what do you care if she stays here?”

“But I do care. I don’t want a girl…a stranger living—”

“She’s not a stranger. She’s a distant relative of Hershel’s and her father just died.”

“But we’re not her relatives…”

“She doesn’t have anyone else and Gittel likes her, feels sorry for her—which is something that it wouldn’t hurt you to do.”

Jacob narrowed his eyes on Shlomo. He was about to answer when Shlomo went quickly on. “You know what your problem is? You think no one in the world has suffered quite as much as you. You’re the only one who had a terrible childhood, who ever had a girl turn him down. Everyone else had a great life—”

“Well, your life was just a little bit easier than mine—”

“Yes, a whole lot. And mama’s too and Gittel’s—we had all the luxuries.”

“What’s that got to do with this girl living here? Why doesn’t she live with Gittel?”

“Because Gittel’s living in two rooms and she’s going to have another baby.”

Jacob was stunned. “Another baby? When did you find out?”

“Couple of days ago.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because you’ve been feeling so sorry for yourself, you’ve kept as far away from all of us as possible.”

“Okay, all right, I think you told me enough. So I’m a louse, right?”

“Wrong. Underneath that suit of armor is a very nice person with a good heart. You’re a
mensch
, Jacob, and being a
mensch
is the most important thing a person can be.”

Jacob stood studying Shlomo. The truth hurt, but it was indeed the truth. He
had
acted like a louse—to his mother, to Gittel, to his own brother.

Jacob shook his head in wonderment and smiled for the first time in months. Putting his arm around Shlomo’s shoulder, he said, “Remember I once said you’re the smartest one in your class? I also said you were smarter than me. You are, Shlomo…you are.”

“I’m not. You’re still the smartest
and
the best.”

As Jacob left to clean up, Shlomo said, “And Jacob, it wouldn’t hurt if you went to
shul
with me.”

“On Saturday.” Jacob nodded.

Not that Jacob gave a damn about Sara or any other girl, but he couldn’t help noticing that she was different from anyone he’d ever met—so educated, so…He couldn’t quite fathom how or why she had come to be living in a place like the lower East Side of New York. Of course, Shlomo had told him the reasons, about her father dying and all, but in spite of himself she was a source of curiosity. At night he lay awake in the dark, wondering about the life that had given Sara her elegance and her aura of breeding and culture, but the life he envisioned was quite far from the truth. Jacob would have been shocked had he known that Sara Edelstein’s beginnings were in many ways quite similar to his own. They were just variations on the same theme.

A
S HAPPENS WITH A
great many people, she knew only the apparent facts of her mother’s and father’s life. And what she knew, she had pieced together. Her mother, then Molly Pollack, was a young girl from Warsaw who worked in a millinery shop. Molly’s family were all dead, except for one brother who had migrated to the United States, to Oakland, California. Sara knew her father had come from a distinguished family that lived in Zurich, but that her parents had married against the vehement protests of his family and were disinherited. It seemed Harry Edelstein was married when he met Molly Pollack. Divorce was unheard of in those times, but nonetheless his wife divorced him. Now he found himself not only disgraced but without any money.