Portraits (26 page)

Papa seemed like a vague figure who came and went in the background of their lives. She felt ill at ease with him, but secretly she would have loved him to take her in his arms once in a while, the way other children’s fathers did. There were things papa did that made her feel bad inside whenever she secretly felt angry at him. He never broke a promise. When she asked for a pet, papa remembered to bring home a puppy. Which was more than mama did; she never seemed to keep her word. “What do you want me to bring you from downtown?” she would ask Doris and Lillian. The two girls would wait patiently after school, and when they heard the key turning in the latch they would run to greet mama and help her with the packages. They waited until mama put the things away, but there were no books for Doris, no doll for Lillian…Mama had forgotten, as she forgot so often…Who could believe her?

Doris could remember vividly how mama had often complained to grandma about how difficult it was raising children, about the sacrifice and the money it cost. Mama used to say that if her life had been different she would never have married so young. That always made grandma angry. She would say that she was sick and tired of being told how badly Sara had been treated as a child. Then she would go out of the house, leaving mama in tears. No sooner had grandma left than mama would cry about how alone she was…how she had no one in the world except her mother and now to be treated this way…

That was something Doris would never quite understand. Didn’t mama have papa? And her children? It all seemed so strange. Mama would run to the telephone after her fights with grandma and plead with her not to be angry. “I’m sorry, mama, who else do I have to talk to but you?”

But it was Rachel who got the worst of mama’s anger. Why? Rachel was really so nice. Doris would never forget a few months back when she’d gone to the lavatory at school and found her underpants spotted with blood. She was so frightened that she left school without asking permission and ran all the way home…

Sara heard the front door slam and came into the front hall as Doris was running up the stairs to her room. “What’s the matter? Why are you home this time of day?”

Doris was already in her room, lying on her bed sobbing.

Sara came in and looked at her. Suddenly Doris was in her arms. “What’s the matter?”

She was too ashamed to tell; it had to do with a place nice girls didn’t talk about. She just knew it was wicked and mama would hate her.

Sara spoke quietly. “Doris, tell me.”

“I want to see Rachel, even though she’s in bed with a cold.”

“Why Rachel?”

“I can’t tell you, mama.”

“But you can tell Rachel?”

“Yes…”

Soon Rachel was standing near the bed. “What’s wrong, Doris?”

“You won’t tell mama?”

“No. What is it?”

“I’m bleeding…”

“Where?”

“Down in my drawers. I’m going to die, Rachel, I just know it.”

“Doris, you’re not going to die. It happens to all girls. You’re just a little young. It doesn’t happen at ten too often, but it’s normal, Doris. You’re getting a menstrual period, that’s all.”

“A
what
?”

“A menstrual period. It happens to all girls.”

“Not to boys?”

“No, just girls.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how God made it, Doris. It has something to do with children, after you’re married.”

“Do you have…menstrual periods?”

“Yes, mine started at thirteen.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because it’s something…you just don’t discuss.”

“Was mama mad?”

“No, for once.”

“I’m so embarrassed, Rachel.”

“You don’t have to be. I should tell you, you’re going to have a period every month. Now come to my room and I’ll tell you how to take care of yourself.”

Rachel had even gone to mama and told her that she should have explained to her daughters about becoming a woman, and mama in no uncertain terms had told her that no one had ever told her anything and she’d survived and, what’s more, she didn’t appreciate her own daughter lecturing her, thank you very much. Doris might have been upset by the argument, but she was so excited about finding out that she’d become a woman that she could hardly wait for her next period…

She would never forget how wonderful Rachel had been to her that day, Doris thought as she lay now in her private place looking up at the trees that clouded her summer hideaway. Life had its ups and downs, but there were wonderful times—like this very moment—when she could be alone and dream that one day she’d be a great movie star like Gloria Swanson. She had made up her mind she was going to be an actress, and nothing in the world would stop her. She’d go to Hollywood or maybe she’d go on the stage. Uncle Shlomo would help her; he always said she was a born actress. Uncle Shlomo…she really loved him and she wondered if anyone in the whole world ever loved her as much as he did. When he was home on leave he gave her money to go to the Orpheum Theater, where she would stay all day and watch the acts over and over again. She saw the greatest: Fanny Brice, Al Jolson, Belle Baker, Ted Lewis and Sophie Tucker. When she went home she would go up to the attic and put on the wide-brimmed satin hat with the plumes and the beaded satin dress and then perform almost word for word the routines she had seen.

She was aroused from her daydreaming when she noticed how late it was. She stood up and stretched, then sighed. She really didn’t want to go home…

Sara came into the room and gently shook Doris and Lillian. “You’d better get up. We have a long day ahead of us.”

The two girls scampered out of bed and headed for the bathroom, but it was locked. Rachel was in there and this would take all day. Impatiently, Doris looked out the back window and saw Shlomo and papa cleaning the truck. Papa was really so handsome and tall, she thought. Mr. Hanson down the street looked a lot like papa. Well, not a lot, but they both had dark blond hair and blue eyes. Papa was as tall and strong as Mr. Hanson and she’d bet papa could have knocked Mr. Hanson out for making her feel so uncomfortable the day she went over to try and play with Gerta.

“You don’t belong here, go home. Gerta can’t play with you.”

But Gerta liked Doris, so the next day on the way to school she caught up with her. “I’m sorry my daddy said that to you, Doris. I like you even if you are a Jew.”

Even if you are a
Jew
? What made the Sanderses so different from the Hansons, and what did being a Jew have to do with it? Was it bad to be a Jew? Papa didn’t look so bad…

“I got to go to the bathroom, Rachel. I can’t hold it in much longer,” Lillian called out, keeping her legs crossed tightly.

There was no response.

Lillian knocked hard on the door. “Let me
in
, Rachel.”

Rachel opened the door, and Lillian quickly ran past her.

“For heaven sakes, can’t a person even go to the bathroom in
peace
,” Rachel said.

“Peace? My gosh, you’ve been in there an hour,” Doris said.

“I have not. Why do you always exaggerate?”

“Well, darn close to it. There are other people who have to pee too, you know.”

“You’re positively obscene, the language you use is disgusting.”

“I don’t know what obscene is, but you’re inconsiderate.”

“You’ve been reading the dictionary again. Inconsiderate is a pretty fancy word for someone so illiterate.”

Doris’s face flamed. There was a limit to the insults she was going to take. Even though Rachel had been nice enough to tell her she could have children when she got married.

Sara had just reached the top of the stairs. “I see the fights are already starting. I want this to stop, do you hear me?”

“Rachel started it.”

“I did not.”

“You did—”

“That’s enough. Rachel, go get dressed and come downstairs and help.”

Some Fourth of July, Sara thought Couldn’t there ever be one day without them fighting? She wished they didn’t have to take the kids to the country. Just once. She hurried to the linen closet to get the white cloth and blankets. On the way downstairs she called, “Hurry up. I need you, Rachel.”

I need you, Rachel. Mama didn’t need Rachel—she needed a slave. Why did she have to be the oldest, Rachel thought as she was carrying out the food. Sara had prepared enough meat, salad, bread, cakes and pies to last a year. It made Rachel ill.

Doris and Lillian sat together in the back of the truck and Rachel sat across from them. “What have you got? A can of worms?” she asked Doris.

“No. Firecrackers…”

“Firecrackers? You’ve got enough to blow up the world.”

“She’s been saving them up for a long time now,” Lillian said.

“It looks like she’s been saving them for years.”

“I have not. I started last month—”

Putting up the tailgate, Jacob looked sternly from one to the other. “Now, before we leave, I’m going to warn you. I don’t want
any
fighting today.”

“Rachel starts it.”

“I know, Doris, you’re an angel.”

He always seemed to defend Rachel, Doris thought…why did she always have to be in the middle…?

Sir Lancelot, the puppy Jacob had given Doris, barked and whimpered and ran around the yard. Doris’ heart broke whenever they left him alone.

“Papa, can we take Lancelot along, please?”

Jacob looked at the mongrel with the elegant name.

Lillian put in, “Please, papa…”

“Absolutely not,” Sara decreed.

Jacob started up the motor and let it idle for a moment.

“Could we, papa?” Doris asked, ignoring mama.

“It’s better if we don’t. He could wander off and get lost in the woods.”

Well, at least papa was nicer about it, even though it broke her heart. And in a way she guessed it did make sense. She would die if anything happened to Sir Lancelot…

As they drove along Fruitvale Boulevard past the beautiful orchards of apricots, pears and apples Doris wondered how any day could be so wonderful. “This is God’s earth and all the things that dwell herein…” That was what the pastor said when Doris went to Bible class one day after school with Jennie Harrison. Doris thought the hymn they sang was so pretty that she had sung along. “Yes, Jesus loves us…Yes, Jesus loves us…and Jesus is the Lord.” Doris was humming the tune inside her head.

What was the difference between the Lord and God? At Passover papa had read from the
Haggadah
that the Lord was one and that next year they would be in Jerusalem. She wanted to go to Jerusalem because that’s where all her people had come from five thousand years ago, but maybe it wasn’t such a nice place after all. That’s where Jesus had chased the Jews out of the temple, which seemed kind of funny considering Jesus and his family had been Jewish, the same as the Sanderses. The Hansons loved Jesus even though he was Jewish, but they didn’t want Gerta to play with her because she was Jewish. It was all very confusing.

Jennie Harrison had asked her to go to the Baptist church last Easter and Doris was so thrilled to be invited that she wore the white dress with the eyelet embroidery mama had made from one of the petticoats she’d saved from when she was a girl and lived in a place called Brussels. Doris thought she looked quite elegant as she bounded down the stairs to the kitchen. Sara turned around and asked where she was going. Doris heart beat a little too fast when she lied, “To see the parade on Broadway…” “Take Lillian,” was the reply. She really didn’t want to because sometimes Lillian let things slip, and she knew mama wouldn’t want them to go to the Baptist church—even if Jesus was Jewish. But she wanted to hear the songs…Besides, Jesus loved them. Reluctantly, she took Lillian.

It was during that Easter service that Doris learned the Jews had killed the Son of God and that they were consequently scattered to the four corners of the earth to burn in hell for all eternity. Although the Sanderses had never killed anyone she felt terribly guilty, and the prospect of burning in hell was a frightening one. She couldn’t understand why it was that although the Sanderses believed in God they did not believe in his Jewish son. There was certainly a lot to learn.

On the way home Jennie said it was nice that Doris and Lillian had attended because even though they were heathens Jesus would save them if they believed in him. They would be forgiven if they converted and were baptized. She pleaded for Doris to do it before it was too late to save her soul. Doris didn’t want to lose Jennie’s friendship and so she said she’d give it serious thought although she knew she’d never do it. Jennie was so happy that she put her arms around Doris’ plump body and said the Lord would reward her in heaven because she had saved a soul. She was so happy that she paid Doris a real compliment and told her that she liked Jews better than niggers. But the baked ham that was served at the Harrisons’ Easter dinner was the deciding factor for Doris. She almost gagged at the sight of it. Not being kosher was one thing, as mama pointed out, but eating ham was strictly forbidden. You could get a terrible disease…

The aroma of the delicious food in the agateware roaster brought Doris out of her reverie, along with the sound of Lillian calling out to papa to please stop the truck because she had to go. Jacob parked on the side of the road, while Lillian pulled down her pants behind a bush. Sara handed her a roll of toilet paper, which she always carried on excursions into the country, and a damp cloth to wipe your hands. When Lillian and mama came back to the truck papa said, “If anyone else has to go, they’d better go now because I’m not going to stop till we get to Elum Rock.” Rachel would rather die than do anything so undignified and Doris was glad she didn’t feel the need.

Once again on the road, the orchards were now left behind. Here the hills had turned golden brown and looked as though they were dying of thirst. But they hadn’t gone too far when once again papa pulled over and stopped the truck, got out and bought a basket of plums and another of green figs from the roadside stall.

Four eyes peered out beyond the steel-mesh panels and watched papa paying the farmer. When he came back and placed the baskets of fruit on the floor near Lillian, Sara said, “No one eat the fruit until it’s washed.”