The Rabbi Who Tricked Stalin
Page 35
At midnight Rabbi Aaron woke up. He was embarrassed, walked dizzyly from his bed to his wife’s bed (as very orthodox religious people their beds were separated) and touched Natalya’s hand.
“I regret for speaking…to you very harshly, my dear wife,” he said to Natalya, who had been still numb. “Surely I will be be calmed by an angel called Time!”
She said O’key, and he returned to his bed, feeling that his mind had cleard:
‘The time has become ripe for realizing my plan: to do what seems to me as an opening of hope. I’m going to risk myself – and I shall have to use my wisdom and playing capability, like a theater’s stage actor, like my wife’s papa. No human being will come to my help, because all are afraid to keep their skins. I myself should face God, and demand His Justice. There is such a sentence in the Book of Jov. This is my final decision: If God has sent me to such a deteriorated universe, he will have to rescue me, alive or dead...God is my refuge and strength, therefore I will not fear. . .I can’t discover my thougts to Natalya. My dear wife will oppose any plot that riska me. It’s obvious that she will suffer from my ‘Caprice’ as she would call it. Yes, She may suffer more than myself, while I”ll be driven out by Gepau. I am her only shelter from the hard life that we all lead, but... If I discuss my queer idea with her, she will blame me that I wish to drawn myself, like my first wife had done. She will be frightened, weep and cry. Then, after she discovers what I have done, certainly she would stand by my side. But that may take long years. She must not lose her patience. I can’t tell that to her now.’
In the morning he told Natalya that he seemed to overcome his weakness of last night, and his body has strengthened. Natalya said she was thinking about a submission of an appeal to the authorities, to enable the kid’s parents to visit him twice a week in his boarding school.
“The regulations at such schools allow that,” she said, thinking that he has shown signs of containing the bad event, and his few words at night prove that too.
To be sure, she asked him how he was feeling, and he replied that his physical situation had become much better, and he would go to work as usual... ‘Though I now that my thoughts are not quite organized’ so he said like frankly to Natalya.
After listening to that Natalya replied That better he would stay at home that day and rest for a while; but he was adamant to walk to the gallery.
“It would be good for me,” he said, “to deal with my negligent task of clerical work in the arts’ store. that will let me forget a while from my trouble.”
Then the Rabbi agreed that Natalya would try to get more information about the exact location of the Boarding School, towhere the boy might have been taken.
‘Natalya would like to undertake rational steps’, said the Rabbi to himself. ‘And I’ll let her continue to think that I shall keep normality. God will take care of Raphael, and I know that the kid is only the first step of His broad plot… I have my way now. The Gepau’s ax has cut a limb from my flesh, but that has made my mind become richer and my mind contemplate more clearly. God knows, that along history many righteous men were facing Satan. Abraham and Moses and Jov and David. They all succeeded to be rescued. The Devil would try to challenge me, but I’ll be obstinate like a rock…And what do I want from you, God? Just a tiny help! Only to get out from a burning ground to a more solid one. God! I am going to teach your devil a lesson. I’ll make him mad, with your help!’
After his wife had left their home for work, the Rabbi sat for a moment like frozen on his bed, then rose up decisively. He begn walking earnestly in the street leading to the gallery, after he had worn Thfilin and prayed the morning blessings at home, as usual. ‘The world had remained as it used to be yesteday and before,’ he told himself, ‘Very few people would be worried about me and care about my existence. Though I’ve seen this morning some neighbors who had known already bout my son’s abduction, and were looking at me with pitiful eyes. Now - Blooma will lose her salary… Natalya told me she had cried bitterly, when she heard about Raphael.’
In the middle of his way to the art gallery the Rabbi recalled that he had forgotten to take his lunch, that he used to carry in his handbag. He walked back home, opened the door and came into the kitchen. He found a boiled hen’s leg and bread, cocumbers and a green apple, packed them in his cloth bag and intended to get out again. But suddenly he wanted something more. He rushed back indoors and picked out two metal tools from a drawer, that had been close to the floor in his old cupboard. He put the tools into his bag and went outside.
He was the first to open the gallery in that morning. He rushed to his cash desk and soon became seated there. He began whispering the long Pslam chapters, as he had done in the night before. Now he was trying to understand the exact meaning of each word, by using the page ‘side interpretation of Rashy’, the greatest Bible and Talmud Interpreter. When painter Mendelevitch came in, he was surprised to see him there already. The painter asked himself, why would Rabbi Aaron’s gaze at him in such a penetrating look, which is not his usual way of opening the workday. Or does it only seem to him?…
Rabbi Aaron suddenly recollected that he had promised to receive visitors at about nine p.m.
He opened his drawer and saw that his cloth cloth bag contained the Halaf (= Jewish Kosher butcher knife), and was smiling strangely at it. ‘Thank God’, he said to himself, ‘that I’m still sane. Just now I’ve been thinking like mad. As if I wanted to assault Gepau by using this knife. . .I seem to hear a noise of drumming followed by strange music of trumpets, flutes and harp.’
From outside there came a noise of a wooden and iron wheeled wagon. A man’s call: ‘Hoisaaa’ was heard; it was an order to a horse to hold on. As Rabbi Aaron heard that, and again his lips quivered, expressing a strange smile. His fingers were sent again to the drawer, touching the knife and taking it out – together with an old leather belt. Rabbi Aaron hanged the belt on a nail, that had been fixed at the desk’s side. Then he looked around, and saw that the painter had already arrived to his studio and was busy there.
Rabbi Aaron rose and began to smooth his knife it on the leather belt. After a while he checked the knife sharpness by passing it twice –very smoothly - over his finger nails. He discerned that two very tiny carves had remained there, and that was a known sign that the knife was proper for Kosher butchery.
Three knocks were heard from the gallery’s front door.
“Come in”, the Rabbi said. Soon entered two elderly Jews, a man and a woman. They approached him and said: “Good day, Rabbi.”
He only mumbled.
“We have not believed, when we heard about yesterday’s event,” the old man said in a weak tone. “We are sorry for that.”
The Rabbi nodded silently.
The couple looked deeper into the store, and saw the painter’s face peeping from his corner.
The woman asked Rabbi Aaron: “Can we bring them here?”
“No! Bring the ‘goods ’ to the courtyard - behind this wall,” whispered Rabbi Aaron, and pointed to the direction of the wall with the studio, “You surely remember… the old Kosher butchery courtyard. ..”
The old couple got out of the gallery on their way back to their wagon. The Rabbi followed them to the front door. They heard him reckon: “I’ll reach you there within two minutes.”
He walked back to his desk, and took his cloth bag from the bottom drawer there. Looking toward Mendelevitch studio- he approached it, hiding the bag behind his back.
“Mendel,” said the Rabbi, “I go outside, to the restroom. D’you hear me?”
Mendelevitch did not peep out to look at him, and only mrumured: “heard, Rabbi.”
Rabbi Aaron opened the rear door by his key, and went out.
He was standing in the gallery’s rear courtyard, looking at the long table there. It was made of rough boards with trunks’ legs. Next to it was a rusted and dripping old tub; these articles had remained t
here from old days, when the Kosher butchery house was operating.
Rabbi Aaron put his bag on the edge of the table, after pouring some water on it from the tub and using his palms to wipe the dust and clean its boards.
Then Rabbi Aaron discerned the old couple arrive. They were not alone, but joined by two young visitors, perhaps their daughter with her boyfriend. The youths carried a wooden coop, full of hens and turkeys, and the old woman pointed to Rabbi on it. She indicated him to approach them. Then she opened the coop, pulled out two turkeys, and handed them to Rabbi Aaron. The old man was pulling out also two cocks, and held them in his hands.
The Rabbi went to his butchery table with both turkeys, whose legs had been tied together by a cotton thread. The turkeys were lying on the table board and not moving, as the Rabbi walked nearby and brought sand, that would absorb their blood after being slaughtered. He spread it on the paved area around the table, then washed his hands. His wet fingers fumbled in his bag – and he found there a towel, with which he wiped his palms and sweating beard and forehead.
The old couple was waiting a few steps from the butcher’s place, while the youngsters were just chatting nearby at the side. They were holding hands, hardly looking at the Rabbi, who had taken the knife in his left hand- and suddenly pulled out also an ax from his bag. He put all his tools on the table, then began waving the long knife, rolling it on the air – like trying to show its sparkle in the sunlight. He murmured a prayer, and queerly carressed the turkey which was lying on the table. Suddenly he shouted:.
“God, curse the wicked! Take revenge of your despisers! God- take revenge!”
He had lifted his knife to the air, and cut the turkey’s throat in a sharp strike, splitting its head from its body. The family members standing aside - heard his scream, and were looking stranghely and unbelievingly at each other. Having seen that the Rabbi began to cut the cock’s body into small pieces, very brutally, they began to shout at him: “What are ye’ doing, Rabbi?” He disregarded them and immediately grabbed the other turkey, slaughtering it in the same manner. Now his fingers were smearing blood over his own coat, shirt and hat. He bleeded also his palms and stained his beard and forhead with the shedding blood.
“These were not carcassed turkeys,” shouted the irritated old man, “why have you disqualified them for being Kosher? ”
He approached Rabbi Aaron – but his wife held him by the elbow and pulled him back. “The Rabbi has that ax, beware of him,” she whispered. ‘I think he has gone mad.”
The youngsters joined the old man, who pointed on Rabbi and began to scream: “Are you crazy or what? Rabbi Aaron, what are you doing!”
Rabbi Aaron approached them. He was waving his ax around his head, and screamed like a howling beast: Wooo, Hoowoo ,hoo! Out, out!!
“Let’s run away,” said the old woman. She saw her husband putting back two cocks he was holding- into the coop. They shouted something to their daughter and her young boyfriend, who approached the Rabbi in order to see what happens with him..
“Don’t try to move!” The old woman shouted in front of her daughter, and indicated the couple to retreat. The four were all at the coop. The young couple raised it and carried it together out of the rear courtyard.
Maddened Rabbi Aaron’s eyes followed them, the ax and knife still in his hands. He did not stop blaming and cursing the wicked. Now - saliva was seeen in his mouth, foaming his lips.
The four visitors came to the small square in front of the Gallery, where their wagon and horse were waiting. The strange Rabbi rushed after them and appeared in a distance, trying to frighten them further by his screams and tools. He strided proudly along the square, and the exaggerated movements of his armed hands – as well as his bloody figure, strengthened the ‘audience’ feelings that he had become really mad. He thought they had intended to drive away, so he left them and got back into the gallry.
Rabbi Aaron rushed with his knife and ax to the section of portrays hanging on the main exhibition wall. He raised his long knife in the air and quickly tore by it some of the painted portrays of Lenin and Stalin. Then he was breaking and cutting their frames by his ax, while shouting: “Where is Trotsky? come here, traitor! I’ll Kill Lenin, I’ll kill Stalin!… Dear Satan, destroy Soviet Russia!”
He had really felt mad. ‘Though I had anticipated,’ he told himself, ‘that it won’t be like that. I could not imagine that my eyes would see a spectre like that, in which people are on fire, and buildings explode. I am now there - inside the conflagration, surfing like the devil above the flames of hell, my mouth praising the destruction. . . I am afraid of myself, God.’
The two frightened couples suddenly rushed into the gallery, that no clients had visited it yet. Mendelevitch had been already staying out of his Studio, his face pale as the wall. The old woman shouted at him:
“Nachalnik director, don’t you see what happens? Stop the Rabbi. He’s absolutely mad!”
“I see very well!” answered the painter in irritation, “You think I am blind?”
Mendelevitch was standing about ten steps from Rabbi Aaron, who continued to destroy. He was now breaking a sculptor of Lenin’s protomas, stated on the shelves. He raised his ax for cracking a big statue called: ‘workers, farmers and warriors standing together,’ - all of the characters in a pose of raising hands, some with closed fists and some in the middle of clenching fingers.
“Rabbi Aaron, let me have your tools!” said Mendelevitch calmly.
The Rabbi raised the long knife that he was holding, drawing by it a symbolic horizontal line on his own throat.
Mendelevitch ran to his studio and pulled a pistol out of his drawer there. He approached Rabbi Aaron and directed the barrel to his face. The Rabbi became scared.
He threw his knife on the floor, and ran with his ax still in hand - to his cash desk. Mendelevitch pursued him, standing two steps from him. The Rabbi became seatd, the thick foam of saliva still bursting from his mouth, while he was uttering obscure words:
“Tsof-nat Pa-nea-akh, Boo-ky Sri-ky, Boo-ky Sri-ky…”.
“Rabbi Aaron!” shouted the Painter, “Let us end this event. See what a damage you’ve caused.”
Rabbi Aaron’s mouth continued to foam saliva.
A small crowd, that meanwhile came in, sourround the madman and the painter. People were shouting to each other: “Call the police! where is the police? What’s happening here?”…Many were enjoying to watch the tragicomedy, and additional audience came in - as the smell af a ‘scandal’ was spread around by the shouts emerging from the gallery.
“Comrade Reb Aaron,” re-tried the painter to convince him, “be reasonable. D’you understand me? If I involve the police- it will be worse for all of us. Give me your ax.”
Rabbi Aaron was silent, and still seated on his chair. He concentrated in his thoughts, his face turned down. He began to smooth his beard by his right hand, and seemed to be deeply unaware of the people gathering around, that some approached him more closely. All eyes discerned the blood smeared on his face and coat. He began to roar strangely, like a beaten beast.
A siren yell was heard from outside. Three policemen entered the gallery hall, and approached the cash desk in a rush. They assaulted Rabbi Aaron without saying a word, and defeated him without his resistance: He had just put the ax on board of the desk, and gazed pitifully at the people surrounding him. They saw his shuddering body, the saliva foam on his lips, and his widened eyes, which were moving fast from side to side without stop.
‘I presume,’ he reflected ’that this is the sight of a madman, that people expect to see. I really don’t know of any other gestures… that would demonstrate madness, panic or hysteria’.
He laughed bitterly in his heart: ‘Though there might be very many other signs for insanity. I know. A lunatic would pursue the moon, running on a roof…But I am sorry, I am forced to publicize my insanity by
a day-show…I hope that my behavior will convince Gepau, too, that I am absolutely mad. The simple people would think that I must be isolated, and neglected in a rotten asylum. I am sore about the good painter. My friend Mendel is really worried about my condition. I saw it on his face ...’
Two policemen bound hand-chains to Rabbi Aaron. Soon they dragged him to their police car, which was parking outside, behind the wagon of the Jews who had been the first to discover his insanity.
At that moment a horserider came to the Gallery’s little square.
Elya Ruhin dismounted the horse, and approached the police officer.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Yes, I do...the Comsomol’s secretary,” replied the ofiicer.
“The Rabbi’s case is a matter for psychiatrists, not for the police. I request you to behave humanely to him. I have spoken with Gepau’s Antonov on the phone. His men will check the Rabbi, then send him to an asylum.”
“I have to bring him first to our station. From there I can arrange his delivery to Gepau, if they want him.”
The Rabbi was seated in the police vehicle, two young policemen beside him. Elya was riding his horse in a gallop - after the fast moving police vehicle.
Along the way to the police station, Rabbi Aaron shut his eyes and groaned weakly. He was thinking what more signs of an unbalanced man he could show. He advanced his right arm to his mouth and tried to bite it through his coat’s sleeve. But its cloth was too thick to enable his teeth reach his skin. He tried to take off the coat, but the policman beside him pointed on the chains combining his fists.
“Don’t move, comrade,” He warned him, still not aware of his pretended dumbness. Now Rabbi tried to bite his left sleeve and tear it by his teeth. That move resented the policeman, and he scorned him, saying: “Dirty Yevrey!! What have I just told you?”- and the Rabbi gazed at him strangely and roared. He bent toward the policeman’s sleeve, opened his mouth and bit his sleeve, but again he could not reach any flesh. The outrageous policeman grabbed Rabbi Aaron’s head by his hands. He pulled down his beard, then slapped him at both cheeks. Another policeman who was sitting in the opposite side attacked Rabbi Aaron. His fists boxed Rabbi’s face, and he pulled down the bandage, that had covered Rabbi’s right eye, hurt in the previous riot-day. Then the policeman surrounded his arms with a thick rope, and put a chain linkink his both hands. Rabbi Aaron could not move any more and was silent.
Meanwhile two Gepau’s men in the gallery gathered witnesses from the audience, inquiring what they had seen in the ‘violent action’. They asked if anyone had seen a man or a woman who assisted the Rabbi in his ‘break and tear of the leaders’ pictures’ by a disguised Amok attack. Anyone questioned denied that.
The Gepau first draft report about that case was as follows: “It is not clear what has exactly caused today’s riot of Rabbi Aaron Hittin; but it is possible that his forcefull departure from his only son – has brought him a madness attack, which its damage to the Gallery is at least six thousands Rubles. Also- the disrespect and defame of our leaders had been enormous. We have the witness of comrade Mendelevitch, the Gallery’s director about what happened. One fact has yet to be inquired,” wrote Gepau’s Vronsky at the end, “what had been the painter’s reason for delaying the use of his weapon? Why had not he used it immediately, as the damned Rabbi had begun to cut and break everything…”
Inside the police station – the cops tried to force Rabbi to speak, but he turned his head from them. An inquirer who came from Gepau, looked straight in his eyes, but Rabbi Aaron did not show any sign of understanding. He was like attacked by belching loudly, so the inquirer spoke to him and suddenly shouted: “Paaahh”, and that had caused the Rabbi to jolt from scare. His belch immediately ended, but he continued to show signs of total discontact.
Later in the afternoon Antonov took Rabbi Aaron from the police to his control in Gepau Head office. They put him into a narrow dark room there. His time had passed while his lips were murmuring prayers. He did not know if it was still daytime or night had come.
Antonov gathered his buddies in his dark curtains room. He ordered Tall Aliosha to bring inside five more chairs, and arrange a meeting of a ‘special team,’ that consisted of his best assistants. In addition to Antonov, his deputy Vronsky and Tall Aliosha- took part in that meeting also: the Jewish dwarf Avrum, the Kirgizian Mahmudin, the Georgian Boris and the Russian Suskin.
“Listen, folk,” Antonov told them, ”We have a severe development around. Most of you are familiar with the Jewish Rabbi, Aaron Hittin, aren’t you?”
All nodded, except the Russian, who was a recruit, but strongly built, and therefore included in that team.
“The Rabbi has seemingly become mad,” contimued Antonov, ”that is what the police Officer had told me. He wanted to send Rabbi Hittin straight to an asylum. But I’ve decided to take him to a special treatment. I doubt his insanity. He is an old trouble maker and rebel.”
“You are absolutely right in your suspicion,” said Boris, “Yesterday I arrested another Yevreysky Jew, in the name of Levy something. He’s an ex-teacher, who also seemed to be mad; I did not believe him. I’ve told you about that, commander Antonov.” Antonov nodded. “Yes, this is a filthy situation,” he said, “two sudden mads - are too much to be true.”
“I have already tried to investigate that teacher,” said his deputy, Vronsky. “He declared all the time: ‘I am Messiah, I am Messiah.’ We all know, that Jesus is so called by the Christians, and King David is so called by the Jews. Anybody who would declare himself Messaiah is just thought crazy by the God believers themselves. It’s like – you know- we had a period of thousand Napoleons in Russia.”
“My ex-teacher is very sophisticated,” laughed Boris, “Today he has begun to fast, in order to be seen meagre and suffering. He believes that we would not know how to prove his pretentious craziness;”
“So, who wrote the stupid sentence in the report about the cause Rabbi’s Amok in Gallery?” said Antonov angrily, and read loudly: “It is possible that his forcefull departure from his only son – has caused Rabbi Hittin’s madness?”
“I wrote it,” said his deputy, apologetically, ”I am sorry. That was my impression, because I saw how he had already been irritated yesterday.”
Antonov became nervous on his deputy for his talkativity.
“You contradict what we’ve just said?” he reproached him, “Rabbi’s madness is a disguise, without any connection with our strong pressure on his criminality regarding his invalid son. Real madness- enters a mind in a long process. . . In this case, however, it is fake and a disguise, and we will prove it.”
“Oh, I appologize, commander. I will erase my sentence that was a wrong interpretation of the situation!” said the deputy, and wanted to swallow his tongue. He understood at first, that his boss wanted to declare the Rabbi as absolutely mad, and send him quickly to an asylum. Now he understood that he had been mistaken.
“I have already investigated the Rabbi’s wife,” said Suskin. He smiled to his comrades, who had known he was fond of telling lies in order to ‘relent the tension’ entailed in their hard job. “She said that her husband was recently drinking a bottlef of Yevresky home made Kosher Vodka. Rabbi had bought that in their black market. . .It was too sharp, and made him a mad drunkard. ‘Now he is as weak and as bad smelling as a rotten onion.’ So she has said...”
“Enough with stories, Folks,” interrupted Antonov, and stopped the general laugh. He had known well, that his chaps would like to talk indefinitely, instead of searching Action. He rose from his chair.
“Well, folks,” he said, “You know what to do now. You should storm additional men, who were involved in the Jewish rally and demonstrations last month. We have not finished our activity to deter and intimidate them. Last night I had a phone call from my boss, Menzhinsky. He urged me to arrest all Jewish Zionits and Bundists in the area– who
enflamed the rebellion. Our main concern is now- that some more persons would pretend mad, and by that bring bad reportages in the international press.”
All rose from their seats, but Antonov ordered Aliosha to remain with him there.
“Commander, I don’t have yet a pistol,” remarked the Russian Suskin to Antonov.
“Take mine,” Antonov pulled out the pistol from his holster.
“I am going to take a machine gun for our chase,” he said, “We will pull Yevreays from their hiding places- like snakes from their holes. No more rebellion will take place in Minsk. I risk my head - if I don’t rush to clean the area completely!”
At the same evening Antonov sent a physician to check Rabbi Aaron in the isolated room. Poor Rabbi was laid there on an old mattresse, and the doctor bent over him, his palms touching and pressing his forehhead and belly.
“Just to ensure, that you have no high temperature,” he told him, “which means- neither typhoid nor cholera.”
Rabbi Aaron did not show any sign of understanding, and did not move an eyelid. The doc asked him: “D’you know where you are now?” Again the Rabbi did not answer.
He suspected that the doc had been sent to him, because Gepau had already suspected him to be a disguised mad. Therefore he began ti whisper some words of a Russian-Yiddish song. It was popular in old times, while he- Rabbi Aaron - was a kid. Its English translation was approximately as follows:
“Do you know whom I do want to meet”
“just walking safely on the street?”
“A Cossak, holding a flashing knife,”
“counting his fingers, sure he has five.”
“Had I his wisdom, or only his might.”
“But all of a sudden I’ve lost his sight !”
The doctor soon became aware about Rabbi’s bad condition. He wrote on a note what he would tell Gepau’s Head Antonov:
‘Nothing could be done here; citizen Rabbi Hittin is physically healthy, but he has to be hospitalized in Mads’ Asylum to check his mental health. The psychiatristss should implement a thorough check up: Day and night, up and down, left and right, forward and backward. And better sooner than later, as his physical health may deteriorate, because of his mental illness.’
Suddenly Rabbi Aaron felt the doctor’s palm in his coat’s pocket. He did not find anything there, so he moved his hand to Rabbi’s right trousers’ pocket. There he also had not found anything…But he felt that something was not smooth at the bottom of Rabbi’s belly. There should have been a hidden pocket, so the doctor was thinking. Therefore he pulled out scissors from his black tiny suitcase, ripped off the Rabbi’s trousers seams, sent his fingers to where the hidden pocket had been, pulled it out and tore it by his scissors.
The doctor was leaving the pocket’s folded cloth in his hand. He touched it and felt that there had been a watch inside, and also a ring. The loot filled his heart with joy, and he turned around, leaving. the Rabbi immediately.
Rabbi Aaron was very sad about his robbed personal belongings: the doctor had robbed the golden watch, that his father had rendered him as a Bar Mitvah(13) birthday present; also Rabbi’s first wife’s wedding ring had been there. Aaron had removed it from Esther’s finger after her death, and was keeping it in his coat for years.
Rabbi Aaron was left alone again in his room, but soon heard familiar voices coming from the corridor. The man’s voice was of Mendelevitch, and the woman who joined him was Natalya. A Gepau officer told them that no one would be allowed to visit the Rabbi, and that at night he might be transferred to an asylum.
“There is one, not far from Minsk. And there is another one in Smolensk ..”
That was all the information that Gepau was ready to provide to the Rabbi’s wife and friend. When the two went away, Natalya saw Antonov arrive. He was wearing his boots and fur coat, but having recognized her - he turned his face from her, telling something to his deputy.
Natalya did not see Tall Aliosha, who had been delayed from arriving with his two bosses. He had stayed for a while in the front seat of Gepau’s special ambulance, waiting to take the Rabbi for hospitalization in the insanes asylum. Then he returned inside the Gepau HQ building.
Rabbi Aaron was left alone - and soon fell asleep, still dressed. At midnight he was awakened by Tall Aliosha, who smiled at him. The Rabbi did not change his severe face, and the huge guy indicated him to walk at his side. They went out of the police station and the Rabbi was happy to breath the fresh air of the night. He did not want anything but sleep again, guessing knew that a long way would be waiting for him. He thought that he would be now like his son Raphael: His hands cannot move, as he is chained to a ring in hell. In the police station he had refused to eat, knowing the meat had not been Kosher. The cops gave him water, and a piece of black rye bread. He praised God that had given him strength. He had not imagined before - that Gepau would be invloved so much in his pretence. But perhaps this chap, Aliosha, is a double agent? God’s and Gepau’s. Biblical Jov had been challenged by Satan for some years, wasn’t it? If history repeats itself, I will prevail and bless God in this low world. Even if not - I will bless Him in the Coming world. I shall not utter any bad word about His Judgement regarding me.
Natalya was desparate. She heard Mendelevitch saying, that maybe the Rabbi had been wiser then they all. “Between ourselves: what kind of life we do have here? I won’t say anything about the Regime. So with you. We know that slavery had not vanished...I have painted a group of chained workers recently. Gepau wanted to arrest me for that, till I’ve made the workers in an archityped Russian peasants, and I had to add a Pravoslav priest beside them – so that every viewer would know, that the topic of that painting’s is not the present era - but it depicts the Tsar’s days.’
Having remained alone in Rabbi’s home, Natalya soon stopped sobbing. ‘There is no use to behave like a child,’ she said to herself. She believd that somehow - soon the Rabbi would be cured, even Gepau was holding him, and wishing his death. ‘Yes, there is such a danger,’ told her Blooma, ‘that like in my Red Mogid’s case, they would bring a prisoner to madness, and push him to his end. They would avoid him proper mental treatment, of course. More than that...’
CHAPTER 36