After his marriage Rabbi Aaron continued to teach Torah to the six and half years old Raphael. Blooma would arrive with the boy in the Gallery each day, except on Fridays and Sabbaths. She would lead him there by the reins, tied to his harness, that was attached to his breakable body. She would quickly return alone to her hut, where her little kid was waiting for her... In the afternoon the father would read with his son in the Bible, and at five p.m. they would return home togther.
During the boy’s stay in the Gallery, Rabbi Aaron used to be interrupted from his teaching, and deal with the clients; they were quite considerate regarding the invalid kid, and would wait patiently at the Cash - if the Rabbi had a to lead the boy to the W.C, or hush the boy when Raphael would make a noise, or tell him something in the forgotten Yiddish language.
Almost a year passed. In a summer day Rabbi Aaron was alone in the gallery, waiting for his son’s arrival. He looked very angrily at the framed oil pictures on the walls and at the new, unframed pictures, laid aside in a heap- one upon the other. He began reading one of his sacred books, and pressed his temples by his fingers, to counter-fight his headache, which recently had become frequent.
“Why is my head so dizzy?” he whispered to himself, “God, don’t let me lose my duel with the Dictatorship! I love Natalya, and I don’t know how to keep her from being hurt by my thoughts. Last night I was talking again with her about an escape from this country. She told me: ‘Beware- my good husband, not to be driven mad by that thought.‘ She did not know, that an idea had flashed in my mind – due to her saying…”
Raf’l arrived in the Gallery with Blooma, who kissed him and left very quickly. Rabbi Aaron had arranged for the boy a special chair – on which he was soon seated, tied to hand supports, to avoid his sudden rise or turn aside, which might cause him to fall down.
In that hour - the painter Mendelevitch was busy with his private painting in the corner. The store was empty from clients, and the Rabbi and his son could enjoy their study earnestly. But before they had started a new Torah tale about Abraham, Raf’l turned his face to his father:
“Papa, Blooms has told me that miracles. . .like the rescue of Issac from being slaughtered by his father, are very rare today. Why?”
“I ask the same question, son. God hates to make miracles. He feels humiliated - to fulfill our stupid beggings from him. So. we should understand that, and not bother him. He is too great - to deal with us. We are little worms in his eyes. He’s enormous.”
Rabbi Aaron had for long become to know, that his son would not be a genius. His physical deformity would not be compensated by a brilliant mind. Raf’l would sometimes mix the Torah tales, and also Talmud legends. Only last year he thought that in the Feast of Tabernacles (Sukot) the Jews had been ordered to eat Matzoth, which were really Passover’s food. In his truly and innocent way, however, the boy was liked by the bachelor painter, Mendelevitch, who had rendered him a nice picture of flying angles; and Raf’l loved those God creatures’ very much. They had wings over their hands; and their faces, of course, were sweet like babies’ ones. Rabbi Aaron wrote with his pen at the bottom of that picture: “Flying to the Holy Land of Israel.” So, his son asked now about that place Holy Land, where Abraham and his little son Issac were living.
Rabbi Aaron took a paper page and sank his pen in the inkwell set on his desk. He drew a small circle on the center of his page, and said:
“We are here, in Minsk. I have put it here on the middle, but Minsk is not in the middle of the world. Jerusalem is! There - Abraham and Issac were living and sacrificing to God. Now, if God would have given wings to us- to you and me and Natalya- where could we fly?”
“To… to Jerusalem, that you like so much, papa.”
“Correct. But we are no angels, and have no wings. Therefore we are far from the holy places.”
“But – father. Why are we so far? You’ve told me, that once we had all been living there.”
“Oh, it’s because of our sins. When you grow up, you’ll learn about that. It is not so simple – not a short tale. ”
“How much would it take to arrive there? If we could take a train from here to Jerusalem…”
“We have to sail also in a ship for that. There is the black sea between us and the land of Israel.”
“Well, I will take a ship. I will ask painter Mendel to draw me that ship.”
Rabbi Aaron’s pen was now drawing a train’s locomotive and cabins. Then - a blue sea with a small ship on it.
“Oh, you begin to be a painter,” laughed his son. The Rabbi nodded.
“I heard from Blooma,” said the boy, “that her elder brother had gone to Jerusalem ten years ago. He is living there now. Why could not we all do that?”
“Oh, it’s a long story, son. The Soviet Police does not allow us.”
“Why?”
“They are afraid – that if they do that – not only we would like to go out of that country. Many like us would escape from here.”
“Because of the bad Gepau men here, who frighten everybody?” asked Raf’l.
“You understand it precisely!” Rabbi Aaron praised the boy and kissed him on his cheek. “But let’s return to our study.”
“Blooma told me, that Messiah would take us to Israel, and that he would plant me hands. Is that true?”
“Yes.” said the Rabbi, and his eyes became wet, but his son had not seen them.
“I understand,” said the boy, “that the Almighty finds no interest in my lacking hands. O’key, I can understand that. He is busy in other things. But does not it matter to Him, that all the Jews around us are in a big trouble? So told me Blooma. She said, that we are in a desperate country. All is black, and we are helpless.”
“You don’t listen too much to her,” said Rabbi Aaron, “she is a heart-bittered woman. You know… what has happened to her husband.”
“Yes, nobody knows where he is. Gepau abducted him, she said.”
“We will stand against any obstacle, that the bad regime will end,” said Rabbi Aaron decisively, “but let’s return to our tale about Abraham, our father. Let’s repeat reading the chapter - about Abraham and the angles.”
“Ah, those angles who arrived, to destroy the bad city of Sodom?”
The Rabbi told his son, that God must have sent good angles to that town. They had to rescue the good Jew, Lot. But a lot of the Jews were like Lot’s family, who had not harmed anybody in the world. Despite that - they had been persecuted by the wicked men, just for the sake of troublemaking.
“God has many riddles and secrets,” said Rabbi Aaron, summing up their lesson at the end of that day. But before taking Raphael home, he told him again:
“We should not rely on God’s miracles, remember. And because of that – I am prepared to the day, that the Gepauniks will put me in jail. Then I may forget when Sabbath or Holiday arrive, and that will be a sin.”
“We should not work in these days.” said the boy.
“True. So… In order to know when these holy days occur- I have written them in a special page. It is called a Diary. . .From now on - I have to keep it with me, in my coat. ..” He hoped that the boy had fully understood what he had meant: That one day they may be separated from each other.
CHAPTER 34
The Rabbi Who Tricked Stalin Page 33