Millions of Pebbles

by Roberta Kagan

  Caleb almost choked on the piece of chicken he was chewing. He could not speak, but he stared at her in disbelief. His entire body began to shake. His face was red with anger. Caleb had been so worried about Bina making a scene, but instead, it was Caleb who was making a scene. He stood up and leaned forward across the table, his face close to hers, his breath hot on her cheeks, then he growled, “Why didn’t you do something to prevent this? I don’t want a child.”

  She put her hands over her face and began to cry. Caleb pounded his fist on the table shaking it until a full glass of red wine slid into Bina’s lap staining her pink dress.

  She looked down at the dress, but she could not look at Caleb. Instead, she shook her head not knowing what to say. This Caleb was not the man she knew. This was not the Caleb who was her lover. That man was a calm, devil-may-care sort of fellow. But this man who sat in front of her now was a scarlet-faced, raging tyrant. And he was blaming her for everything that had gone wrong.

  “What do you expect me to do about this? You had better not be thinking I am going to marry you. I don’t want to marry you or anybody else.” He groaned. Everyone in the restaurant had turned around to look at them, but that didn’t stop Caleb’s anger. He hollered at her, “Besides, Bina, how the hell can I be sure it’s mine? I don’t know how many other men you lay down and opened your legs for.”

  The ugliness of his words sent her running out of the restaurant with her hands covering her face. She ran as fast as she could through the dark streets until she arrived at her home.

  Bina’s mother was still awake. She was in the living room knitting quietly in the dark. When Bina came flying through the door, her mother looked up. Bina was whimpering as she fell down at her mother’s feet.

  “What is it? What’s happened?” her mother asked.

  “I’m pregnant. It’s Caleb’s.”

  “Oh, no,” her mother said in a deep and pained voice. “Oy, Bina, the shanda, the embarrassment. You’re going to have a child out of wedlock. What will the neighbors think of you? How will you ever outlive this shame? No decent boy will have you now. Dear God, no, this is the most terrible thing that could happen to our family,” her mother muttered, biting her lip. “And what’s even worse . . . how am I going to tell your father? He will be livid.”

  Bina nodded. “I know, Mommy. I know. I’m so sorry.” Bina was sobbing.

  Bina’s mother told her father. Both of her parents were angry and devastated. The only choice left to Bina was to marry Caleb, and he was not the kind of man they’d hoped for as a son-in-law. Not only was Caleb poor, but they all lived in a small Jewish area, where a man’s character was well known by his neighbors. And Caleb was well known to be a less-than-savory character. So not only was it a terrible embarrassment to be pregnant out of wedlock, but the child’s father had a terrible reputation. The Bloombergs went to see Caleb’s family and told them the news. The Ornsteins, unlike the Bloombergs, were hopeful. Perhaps, Caleb's parents thought, this might be a good thing for their son. Perhaps if Caleb settled down with a wife and child, he might straighten out his life. The Bloombergs had no choice but to plan a quick wedding. They knew it was inevitable that people would learn the truth that the baby was conceived before the vows were taken. After all, people weren’t stupid, and they could easily count nine months from the wedding day. Still, the Bloombergs tried to keep the secret of Bina's pregnancy at least until the couple were married. Bina’s mother began to arrange the wedding as quickly as possible.

  Meanwhile, Caleb felt trapped. He couldn’t see himself stuck with a wife and child for the rest of his days. The very idea of being buried under the mundane day-to-day life of a working father gave him anxiety, so he outright refused to marry Bina. He told her parents that he didn’t want to be her husband and would not treat her well if he were forced into this marriage. Her father, in turn, threatened to kill Caleb. And Caleb’s father, furious with his son for not seeing the blessing in the opportunity to marry into a rich Jewish family, threatened to help kill Caleb himself. But Caleb’s mind would not be changed. He refused to see Bina. She was heartbroken. She was also ashamed as her belly grew, so she stopped attending school. In her young eyes, this breakup with Caleb was the end of her life. So one autumn afternoon when her parents were not home, and she could see no other means of escape, she ran a hot bath and sat in the tub crying until the water grew cold. Then she slit her wrists. Blood turned the water red just as it did when Moses went to speak to Pharaoh begging him to let the Jews leave Egypt. And Pharaoh had denied his request.

  CHAPTER 6

  Caleb felt bad about what he’d caused. He blamed himself, but he did not go to speak to Bina’s family to apologize. Instead, he moved out of his parents' home and into the home of a middle-aged Jewish widow whom he’d met only a few days prior when he’d gone to buy clothes. He saw the admiration in her eyes and asked her who owned the store.

  “I do,” she said.

  They talked for a while, and then she closed early. Caleb ended up spending the night in her bed. She liked him; he could see it in her eyes. They all did. In the morning as she prepared his breakfast, she said, “Why don’t you move in with me?”

  “I’ll be your lover,” he told her, “but I am never going to marry you or anyone else. And if you ever start to think that you own me, I’ll be gone before you can count to ten.”

  Caleb was an experienced lover. He was handsome and charming if occasionally cruel. The woman was lonely. She’d been a widow for five years, with a desperate need to feel cared for. Caleb’s offer was not romantic or ideal, but she accepted it anyway. He stayed for a few months until he felt her becoming possessive, and then he found another woman. The women he met and lived with on and off paid all his bills and gave him gifts of clothing and cash. This was his way of life until he was arrested and sent to the ghetto.

  Caleb knew the Germans had taken over Poland because the women he lived with were frightened by the constant bombing. He was worried and afraid that the homes where he stayed might take a direct hit. But he didn’t know much about the Nazis or what they stood for. He thought they were just another political group taking over Poland and that once they were in power the bombing would stop, and their government would have little to do with him.

  Caleb was more interested in women and what they would do for him. He searched for the wealthiest, loneliest women he could find, and even as Germany descended upon the people of Poland, Caleb Ornstein had more women than he knew what to do with. Both Jewish and Gentile girls fell prey to his charms. He flirted with the poor ones but spent his time with the rich. He came to appreciate and expect their gifts, and he developed a taste for fine dining. They didn’t need to be pretty, although some of them were, and as long as they were willing to pay for a good time, he kept them around. Once in a while, he indulged in a one-night stand with a young girl who had nothing to offer but good looks and a firm body. However, by morning he was gone. Sometimes a father or older brother would come looking for him. And more than once he’d been challenged and had to fight his way out, but he took it all in stride. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but it was easier than working.

  On a few occasions, Caleb saw his mother at the market. She begged him to stop living the life he was living. “Come home, Caleb. Start over. You’ve made mistakes, but you're young. You can get a job . . .”

  Caleb listened, and then he just touched her cheek and smiled, shaking his head. This was his way of life, and he had no intentions of changing. Then got to know the Nazis firsthand. Caleb, like all the Jews in Lodz, was arrested.

  Even before Caleb’s arrest, he’d been no stranger to the Balut section in Lodz. This was where the ghetto was built. The Balut was a seedy part of town filled with criminals of all kinds. It was here that, for a year before the Nazi invasion, Caleb had established a small business as a procurer of women. He knew which taverns to frequent in order to find prostitutes whose sexual favors he sold to men in the better sections of to
wn. The prostitutes were easy prey for him. They were girls with low self-esteem who were swept away by his charisma. So when he told them they were very special to him and asked them turn tricks for him, they did as he asked and gave him most of the money they earned.

  Caleb was appalled at the living conditions in the Lodz ghetto. Never could he have imagined a more repugnant place. There was no running water and no toilets, only outhouses that were filthy, stinking holes in the ground. He had no privacy. Instead, he was forced to live with two young married couples. He might have found the living arrangements entertaining had either of the women been rich or attractive. However, they were neither. One was skinny, with a face covered in warts. He could hardly bear to look at her. But at least she was childless. The other, however, had four young, loud, and obnoxious children whom Caleb despised. To make matters worse, the husband of the childless woman was a sickly, balding man who had contracted a terrible case of dysentery. He found it hard to make it all the way down four flights of stairs to the outhouse. He often had accidents that left the small, two-room flat smelling like a zoo for hours. Caleb searched the ghetto in desperation for a wealthy woman with influence who might be able to help him better his situation. But he found no one. Instead, he only found more poor and desperate people just like himself. He couldn’t bear to go on living the way he was. He had to find a way out of that apartment.

  Before his arrest, Caleb had been having an affair with an older Gentile woman. She was generous with cash and gifts. But when he’d been arrested, and he’d asked her for help, she had turned her back on him. Caleb never expected anything more from her. Her husband was a government official, and Caleb was a Jew. When the Gestapo questioned her, she quickly denied ever knowing Caleb. However, when they were lovers, she’d given Caleb some cash, and he still had a little left over. First, he took a few of the reichsmarks and exchanged them for rumkies, which was the money used by the prisoners in the Lodz ghetto. One reichsmark was worth ten rumkies. And then he watched and waited for an opportunity, keeping his eyes and ears open. In order to save himself, he needed to know as much as possible about the operations of the ghetto. He learned that a man named Mordechai Chaim Rumkowski was the head of the Judenrat. Rumkowski was powerful; he was right under the Nazis, and he was a cruel and demanding man who was hated and feared by his fellow Jews. Caleb studied him. He asked everyone he met what they knew about him. What he discovered was abhorrent. There were rumors that before Rumkowski came to the ghetto he had been in charge of orphanages where he was accused of sexually abusing children. Caleb knew that Rumkowski could be manipulated. He was an evil man, a self-serving bastard. He was perfect, and he was Caleb’s mark. Caleb continued to study Rumkowski. The more he knew, the more ammunition he had. Rumkowski was from Russia. He’d gone to Jewish schools, known as cheders. He is a cruel, selfish, and conniving man, perfect for my plan, Caleb thought.

  The blacksmith, Heimy Klein, was known to everyone as a slow-thinking man. People in town had nicknamed him the dimwit. A dimwit was another easy mark, Caleb decided, so he kept an eye on Heimy. When Caleb had a little free time, he went to visit with Heimy pretending to befriend the blacksmith. And as Caleb suspected, Heimy’s lack of intelligence made him easy to control.

  “You want to earn a little extra cash?” Caleb asked as he pulled out a few rumkies.

  “How?”

  “Well . . .” Caleb hesitated and looked into Heimy’s eyes. “Can I trust you?”

  “Of course. You know you can trust me. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Okay . . . so here is the plan.” Caleb convinced Heimy to attack Rumkowski when Rumkowski was making his rounds. “When he goes into the empty store across the street to count his money, you slip in behind him. Then you start beating the shit out of him.”

  “He’ll have me killed, Caleb. Everyone knows he’s really powerful here in the ghetto.”

  “Yes, of course, he is. But would I let him hurt you? I am your friend. Come on, Heimy. Don’t I come to talk to you all the time? No one else does, do they?”

  “No . . .” Heimy studied his shoe.

  “Exactly right. I am going to protect you. You have to trust me. While you're beating him up and robbing him, I’ll come and save him, then I’ll tell him that you and me are friends. And since he’ll have seen how strong you are on account of how you beat him up, I’ll tell him that you would make a great bodyguard for him.”

  “You think he would believe you?”

  “Yeah, of course he would,” Caleb said, patting Heimy’s back. “And I’ll bet he could use a strong fella like you.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Heimy said, nodding. “And if he hired me as one of his bodyguards, I’d get special treatment, like extra food and maybe a nicer place to live.”

  “You sure would.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. This is a real good idea, Caleb. I’m glad we’re friends.” Heimy nodded his head.

  “And once he sees how strong you are, I’ll bet he’ll want you as not just one of his sonder, but his chief bodyguard.”

  “Who are the sonder?” Heimy asked.

  “You know who they are. They’re the special forces here in the ghetto.”

  “Oh, you mean the special police, not just the regular police, right?”

  “Yeah, Heimy, right.” Caleb was trying hard not to lose patience with Heimy’s stupidity. He had to remind himself that if Heimy was smarter, he would never attack Rumkowski. He would not even entertain the idea.

  “What if I kill him by accident?”

  “You won’t 'cause I’m gonna show up and save him. Make sure I can see the whole thing from the street; that way he won’t suspect anything.”

  “Like, what would he suspect?”

  “Like, that I knew about this in advance, you amoretz.”

  “You called me an idiot.” Heimy clenched his fists.

  “Sorry.” Caleb smiled at him and tipped his hat. “It was just a term of affection. Anyway, in good faith and all . . . let me give you an advance toward this job you’re doing for me. I’ll give you half the money now, then I’ll give you the rest the day after you do the deed. You attack him on Monday at five o'clock in the afternoon, and then I’ll meet you here at the shop on Tuesday morning at four to pay you the rest.”

  “What about me? Won’t Rumkowski come after me with the law?”

  “I already told you not to worry about that now, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “I said I’ll protect you, and I will. But right now here is some money to buy you some extra food.”

  “That’s true. You did promise to protect me.” Heimy nodded. “And I could sure use some extra food. I’m hungry all the time.”

  “Right, and if all goes well, I’ll get us both jobs working directly for Rumkowski. That will mean better food and more food. Right?”

  “Sure, Caleb. You're so smart. You always know what to do.”

  “So don’t forget to take care of this thing on Monday, all right?”

  “Yes, Caleb. I won’t forget.”

  Caleb patted Heimy on the back again. “Good. Now remember, I’m trusting you,” Caleb said.

  “I know, and I’ll do what you ask.”

  Dimwit, Caleb thought as he left and went back to the filthy, overcrowded apartment.

  He would not have worked at all, but if he didn’t work he would be forced to forgo the afternoon bowl of watery soup that only those who were employed were entitled to. So when he first arrived he’d found a job at the hatter's shop, making hats. He hated it, so he charmed the foreman's wife with a few clandestine afternoons in her bed, after which she eagerly covered for him, making up excuses, so he was able to come and go as he pleased. Today he’d left after lunch to go and see Heimy. On Monday he would claim he wasn’t feeling well and leave early.

  Caleb was nervous on Monday. I can’t believe I have to depend on this idiot to put this plan into action. He thought about taking the day off, but it would give
him too much time to sit and dwell on the plan. So he went into work acting as if he were very ill. After lunch, he went to the boss’s wife, who also worked in the store. “I’ve been up all night,” he told her. “I’ve been vomiting.”

  One of the other workers overheard him. “Who isn’t sick in this ghetto?” she asked, groaning.

  “I can’t answer that,” Caleb retorted. Then he turned back to the boss’s wife. “I’m afraid I might be contagious. Look at this rash,” he said, pulling up his shirt. There, he revealed an ugly, red rash which he’d created by using a lipstick he’d stolen from the handbag of one of the women who lived in the apartment with him. He’d made tiny red dots then covered them with her facial powder so they wouldn’t smear.

  “That does look bad, Caleb,” the foreman’s wife said.

  “Can you cover for me? This morning when I left, the rash didn’t look nearly as bad as it does now, and I am afraid that if it’s something serious it could close this whole place down.”

  “Of course. Go home and rest. I’ll stay late, so I can put in your share of the work today. That way you’ll still make your quota,” she said.

  “Thank you. You know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, honey,” he said, looking around before he gently caressed her cheek.