When Rosa arrived a few minutes after her, Miriam pointed and whispered, “In there with the children.” Rosa went into the little space that was separated from the living room by a curtain. The room was illuminated by the moon from outside, and she could see her girls huddled on one mattress, Rachelika in the middle. She looked at her daughters and her eyes caught Luna’s. The beautiful green eyes were wide open and filled with tears.
Rosa longed to hug the child, but she was afraid of her reaction, afraid that Luna would push her away again, and she didn’t think she could face any more rejection.
* * *
The door of Gabriel and Rosa’s house didn’t open for three days and three nights. For three days and three nights, mother and son stayed behind the locked door and closed shutters. Nobody came out and nobody went in.
“May God forgive my sins, the bread is probably stale by now and the cheese left out is soured,” Rosa thought aloud. “What are they eating?”
“Each other,” replied her sister-in-law, who was standing in the kitchen putting a pot on the stove. “They should stew in their own juice and put an end to this war. It’s destroying the family.”
“That sour old woman,” Rosa said, “is probably driving the demons out of Gabriel, but who’ll drive out her demons?”
“With God’s help, her demons will go as well. Don’t be frightened, querida Rosa, when her majesty our mother-in-law comes out of your door, you’ll see that everything will be all right again. Gabriel was only sick because of his mother. If she forgives him, he’ll forgive himself and get better. Don’t worry, Rosa, only good will come of them being locked up together for so many days.”
On the morning of the fourth day, just as the sun was rising, Mercada opened the door of Gabriel and Rosa’s house. She came outside, walked to the bus station on Jaffa Road, and boarded a bus back to Tel Aviv.
That same morning after his mother left, Gabriel got out of bed, washed his body with soap and water, shaved his beard, dressed in fresh clothes, and headed to the market.
Matzliach, Leito, and Avramino couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw him standing in the doorway. Without saying much, he took his usual place behind the counter and went back to work as if nothing had happened.
“Go to Shmuel’s house, ask if they know where Rosa is, and when you find her tell her to come home with the girls,” he ordered Avramino, who rushed off.
When Rosa returned home, she was surprised to find the house just as she’d left it, spick-and-span. Gabriel’s bed was made, the sink empty, and the tin bath, to which a few drops of water still clung, had been hung up to dry in its usual place on a nail in the wall.
The girls took off the clothes they’d borrowed from their cousins and changed into their own.
“Heideh, hurry up,” Rosa urged them. “Don’t be late for school.”
As they went off, she stood in the doorway. Little Becky was flanked by her two sisters, holding their hands. Rosa sighed as if a weight had been lifted from her. If Gabriel had gone back to the shop and the girls to school, perhaps her sister-in-law Miriam had been right and everything was back to normal.
But Luna didn’t go to school that day. After she dropped off Becky and Rachelika, she hurried back through the school gate and ran to Gabriel’s shop. When she arrived at the door breathless, her father smiled at her and she jumped into his arms, clinging to him like a baby.
“Basta, querida! You’re not a baby anymore. You’ll be a bride soon! What young man will want to marry you if you behave like a little girl with your father?”
He tried to get her off him and she, who was so happy to see her father smiling at her the way he used to, ignored him and continued hugging him tight, clutching his waist, sticking to him.
“I want to work in the shop with you,” she finally told him.
“Basta, Luna, you’re still a child. You have to go to school.”
“You just said I’ll be married soon and now I’m still a child? Papo, I want to help you, be here with you. I don’t have to learn in school to be able to sell in the shop.”
“You don’t have to learn? Do you know that your grandmother and your mother didn’t go to school for even one day in their lives? And you, you’ve got the privilege of studying and acquiring knowledge, an education…”
“What’s an education? I can read and write. I’ve learned arithmetic. I don’t need any more than that.”
“Stop talking nonsense, Luna! Heideh, take some goodies and go to school. Heideh, there’s a good girl.”
“Papo, please, just today, let me stay in the shop just today.”
Unable to ward off his daughter’s pleas, Gabriel gave in. But her charm and beauty worried him. He would have to keep a close eye on the girl, protect her so she wouldn’t become one of those modern girls who went dancing with boys at Café Europa and all the other clubs frequented by English soldiers, God help us.
Gabriel never spoke about what transpired in the three days he spent with his mother behind the locked door, and Mercada too didn’t say a word. But from the moment she stepped through the doorway of his house, he began functioning as he had before. The Ermosas’ life resumed as normal with one exception: Gabriel no longer went to the synagogue on weekdays and only attended on Saturdays and holidays. Rosa, who noticed this change in his behavior, as usual didn’t ask questions. She had learned that the less she spoke, the better. Better to keep quiet than be answered with thunderous silence. She continued running the household, the friction with Luna lessened, and even though she didn’t approve of the girl’s ever-increasing coquettish appearance, she made no comment. She preferred a truce with the girl rather than the incessant bickering that exhausted her and almost always left her feeling helpless and Luna triumphant. So she raised her hands up in surrender and chose to avoid confrontation with her as much as possible.
Toward the end of the school year, the principal, Rabbi Pardess, invited the parents to a meeting about their daughters’ progress. Gabriel said he would go, and Rosa, who took no special interest in her daughters’ education, was quite content to stay home.
“First, I must congratulate you on Rachel’s many talents,” Rabbi Pardess told the proud Gabriel. “Your Rachel has a fine future before her, and I recommend sending her to the high school at the David Yellin College of Education in Beit Hakerem. Little Rivka also has good qualities. She is an industrious, diligent, and excellent pupil.
“Levana.” The rabbi sighed, putting heavy emphasis on Luna’s Hebrew name. “About Levana, Mr. Ermosa, I regrettably have no good news to report. I would like, sir, to bring to your attention that I take a negative view of the fact that you allow your daughter to be absent from school so frequently. I understand that you need help in your shop, but you must make up your mind: Either you want the girl to learn or you do not. If you are interested in her schooling, then I insist that she attend school every day and complete all her assignments like the rest of the pupils. If you wish to take her out of school so she can work in your shop, that is your right, but you must decide once and for all.”
As he listened to the rabbi’s words, a stunned Gabriel didn’t know whether he should admit to Luna’s lies or cover for her. His own upbringing in his parents’ house had taught him never to wash dirty laundry in public, so ultimately he chose to keep quiet and not to tell the rabbi that his daughter had brazenly lied. He rose, looked the rabbi in the eye, and said, “Sir, I am very sorry. From this day on, my daughter will not be absent from school for a single day.”
As Gabriel exited the schoolyard, he was boiling with rage. His daughter, flesh of his flesh, had humiliated him in front of a respected rabbi. Luna, lying so barefacedly and implicating me in her lies as well? What’s happened to my daughter? Had she picked up on his vulnerability and taken advantage of it?
Although the school wasn’t far from the market, he didn’t go back to the shop and instead started walking down the slope of Agrippas Street toward King George. He had to calm
himself before going home and confronting Luna. How he needed good advice at a time like this. For a moment he thought about getting on a bus to his mother in Tel Aviv, but the possibility of encountering Rochel again frightened him so much that he dismissed it right away.
It hadn’t been that long since his mother had saved him with her livianos and exorcised the demons that possessed him. He would never forget the conversation they had just before she left his house. By the third day, he had been strong enough to get out of bed and sit at the table. His mother sat across from him, her face scored with wrinkles, yet in her eyes glinted the spark of a young woman. She was very grave as she said to him, “Adio Senor del mundo was apparently very angry with you on the day you laid eyes on the Ashkenazia. Who knows what you did for Him to punish you so severely. If it does not have God’s blessing, love is cursed and brings with it the torments of hell. And your love for the Ashkenazia, hijo querido, did not have God’s blessing.” She sighed heavily, laid her hand on Gabriel’s, and went on. “God will forgive us for the sins we have committed against each other. But if God had deemed it fit, He would have taken you a long time ago to punish you for your sins, or He would have taken me. But He didn’t take either of us. He took that saintly man your father, may he rest in peace, and reprimanded both of us with a punishment worse than death. If God chose to take neither of us, it means that He wants us to remain here on earth. What is done can’t be undone, hijo querido, so at least from this day on we shall behave toward each other if not like mother and son, then at least like human beings. I’m now going through that door and back to Tel Aviv. You will get up, wash yourself, and go back to your life. Try and make the life you have left as good as you can. Do your best for your daughters, for your wife, for your livelihood, and most important of all, do your best for yourself. With God’s help, I have erased from your heart the woman who should never have been there in the first place. I have erased the pain and the longing, the memory, and the hope that perhaps one day you will reunite with this woman who was never for you. Now you’re clean. Go and start your life from the beginning as if all this never happened.”
With the help of her cane she got up and walked through the door. And he, who had been brought up on his mother’s miracles and all the healing properties of the livianos, felt that she had brought him back to life.
And now the talk with Rabbi Pardess had shaken the serenity with which he had been filled since his mother had healed him. A great fear gripped his heart, a profound concern for Luna’s future, and most terrible of all, doubts about her character. Did he really not know his daughter? And who knew what else she did that he didn’t know about. Had he failed so badly with her upbringing? Where had the draga de siete cavezas, the seven-headed dragon, learned to lie?
Gabriel walked the length of King George to Terra Sancta and cut across toward Azza Street until he came to Café Rehavia, a place he’d sometimes go to escape, far away from everything familiar. He sat in the café for a long time, sipping a cup of strong black coffee, staring through the window at the passersby, trying to arrange his thoughts and feelings. Perhaps better not to tell a soul, not even his mother, about his daughter’s doings. He didn’t want her to be labeled a liar, a street child. He had to protect her good name, or she would never find a husband from a good family and things would get out of control. He stood up, paid the waiter, and started the long walk back to Ohel Moshe, determined to keep a close eye on Luna, to make sure he knew where she was every minute of the day. And for the first time since she was born, he decided to punish her.
When the family gathered for dinner that evening, Gabriel glanced around the table at his daughters. “Come here,” he said to Rachelika, who immediately obeyed and stood beside him. He kissed her forehead and praised her for her outstanding performance at school. From the corner of his eye he saw the jealousy burning in Luna’s eyes. She couldn’t stand her father paying attention to anyone else, not even to her sister. Then he called upon Becky and sat her on his knee. “And you too, chicitica, are outstanding, so well done!” he said and kissed her.
After Rachelika and Becky had kissed the back of his hand in turn and returned to their places, there was a tense silence. Everyone was expecting Gabriel to ask Luna to come to him so he could praise her studies. But he said nothing. Becky, who could no longer restrain herself, asked, “And Luna? What did Rabbi Pardess say about her?” And Gabriel, ignoring Becky’s question, said in a voice as cold as ice, “The food is getting cold. Rosa, put it on the table.”
Without a word Rosa placed the pot of couscous on the table, and beside it, one containing peas and meat in tomato sauce. As she picked up the ladle to serve the food, Gabriel caught her wrist.
“Basta,” he said, “let Luna serve it.” Rosa’s arm froze in midair. “Heideh, Luna, what are you waiting for? My talk with Rabbi Pardess gave me an appetite,” he said without looking at his daughter.
Luna’s face reddened. Her father had never spoken to her in such a tone, had never before shown her up like this. But what hurt her most was the knowledge that she had disappointed him, that she had shamed him before the school principal. She realized that Rabbi Pardess had told her father about her absences from school. How could she have thought that she would get away with it? She had implicated her father, tarnished his honor, and if there was one thing more important to her father than all else, it was honor.
Her hand shook as she ladled the couscous onto the plates. Dinner was eaten in silence except for the clink of forks on plates. Luna didn’t touch her food, and unusually for him, Gabriel didn’t try and persuade her to eat.
When they finished, Rosa and the girls hastened to clear the table, but Gabriel stopped them. “Leave it. Starting today, only Luna clears the table and only Luna washes the dishes. If she’s not learning anything in school, she can at least learn something at home.”
Every day for seven days, at every meal, Luna laid the table, served the food, cleared the table, washed the dishes, and returned them to their place in the cupboard. Rosa could barely contain her pleasure. Gabriel had chosen not to tell her about his talk with Rabbi Pardess and said only one thing to her: “Not a word about what’s happening in this house with Luna gets out. You will not speak about it, not with Miriam, my brother Shmuel’s wife, not with my sister Clara, not with your neighbor Tamar, not with the other neighbors, and not even with yourself.” And Rosa, for whom her husband’s word was law, kept silent.
For the whole week Luna seemed like a shadow of herself. She went to school in the morning, sat in class for every lesson, and didn’t even go outside during recess. She was prepared to take any punishment, wash the dishes, scrub the floor, fold laundry, and even the worst punishment of all, not leave the house, but she couldn’t bear her father’s silence. It hurt her as if he’d beaten her with a stick. Rachelika, whose heart went out to her sister, tried to talk to her, but Luna withdrew into herself.
“What have you done for Father to punish you like this? It can’t be because you’re a bad student.”
Luna remained silent. She was ashamed to tell even her beloved sister Rachelika why her father was punishing her.
“Luna, why are you being so stubborn? Don’t be an azno, a mule. What have you done to make Papo so angry with you? Did you steal something?”
“Shut up, stupid! You yourself have stolen!” she said and chased after Rachelika, grabbing her by her black hair and tugging it hard.
“Ay-ay-ay!” Rachelika yelled. “Let go of my hair!”
But Luna wouldn’t. She pulled her hair, almost tearing out a handful. Pulling her sister’s hair made her feel powerful. Every time Luna fought with her sisters, she pulled their hair, and she did the same when she sought to show affection. Even the neighbors’ children got this treatment from her. Everybody knew about her craze for pulling hair.
Rachelika’s screams brought Rosa out of the kitchen. She grabbed hold of Luna’s thin body and dragged her away in an effort to separate her two daughter
s. But Luna yelled and resisted and lost all control of herself until she fell to the ground and started crying.
For a long time Luna stayed on the floor, hugging her knees and weeping. I’ll never have the strength that this child demands, Rosa thought as she covered her ears, amazed at the degree to which she had hardened herself to her daughter’s suffering. She didn’t know what Luna had done to make Gabriel punish her like this, what had made him bring the girl to tears, but she didn’t ask him. He’d tell her if he wanted to.
* * *
Stubborn as a mule, Luna, she hasn’t even asked my forgiveness, Gabriel thought as he tended to the shop. She had looked him straight in the eye without remorse at the dinner table. At least she wasn’t weak like her mother. Still, he saw how she stole glances at him when he was talking to Rachelika or Becky. He saw how she bit her upper lip when he talked to Rachelika about articles in the newspaper. She couldn’t hide her pain from him. Hija de un mamzer, how much character this girl has!
He had to put an end to this tension. It was killing him. But how could he, the father, humiliate himself before his daughter? Why didn’t the draga de siete cabezas come to him and beg forgiveness? In another moment he’d break and clasp her to him and kiss her forehead, and in the end he’d ask for her pardon.
The year 1940 was almost over. For six months of the year he had been more dead than alive. The shop had certainly suffered. Gabriel was in no doubt that there had been some financial skulduggery going on while he was durmiendo. How couldn’t there have been? Not that he was accusing his brother of stealing, God forbid, but Matzliach could hardly add two and two, so how could he keep the books? And even if, God forbid, his brother had his fingers in the till, he didn’t want to know. He couldn’t bear any more disappointment.
When he went back to the shop after his mother cured him, the stock wasn’t fresh, and they were short of Turkish delight, halvah, Aleppo pistachios, and tea. The Arab women had stopped bringing cheese from the village because Matzliach hadn’t paid them on time. They were short of pickled cucumbers, smoked fish, olive oil, olives. Right away Gabriel buckled down and got back into the swing of things. He didn’t want to go to Tel Aviv because he feared he might see the woman who walked arm in arm with the Englishman—he couldn’t even utter her name. So instead he sent Avramino to Chaim Saragusti on Levinsky Street. He made a list of everything they needed, and even though Avramino couldn’t read, Gabriel knew that Chaim Saragusti could, and he trusted his old friend to fill his order and send it to Jerusalem.
The Beauty Queen of Jerusalem Page 18