Broken Leaves of Autumn

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Broken Leaves of Autumn Page 20

by Eli Hai


  “Your presence here is important. Obviously, you’re a good influence. You have to visit more often,” the doctor ordered.

  “I’ll come,” he promised seriously.

  “Don’t worry, Pammy. I’ll stay in Eloy at least for a week, so I’ll be able to visit you every day. You’ll see, everything will work out, and you’ll get out of here soon,” he promised cheerfully.

  When they returned from the hospital, Jeff was concerned. He thought about Pam and her future. How could he help her rehabilitation? Would New York would be good for her, or should she stay in Eloy? Then he thought about Eve and the crashing stock market. He wanted to call her but postponed the call because just then, his mother served dinner.

  “Don’t worry about Pam. I believe she’ll be home in a couple of weeks. At least, that’s what the doctor promised. When she comes home, I’ll make sure she lacks for nothing,” Jeff promised.

  “And then what? She’ll come back here…and then?”

  “Let’s hope things will work out,” he replied laconically.

  “Thinks won’t work out! Nothing just works out by itself in this place! If you want to help her, you have to get her out of here.”

  “And what about you? Are you going to stay here alone?” he persisted.

  “Don’t worry about me, I’ll manage. If I know Pammy’s in a good place, things will be much easier for me.”

  Jeff was silent. Perhaps, the first stage was finding her a place with people in her situation, a kind of home were men and women her age lived together and took care of themselves. If only he could find a place like that in New York, and even find some light work for her in the department store. Spending time with him would do her good, work would help her return to life, and she’d regain her confidence and speech. And when her condition stabilized, he’d rent her an apartment next to his and Eve’s apartment, and who knows, maybe she’d get lucky and meet someone nice and raise her own little family.

  “Don’t worry, Mom, if that’s what you want, I’ll get her out of here,” he promised.

  But his mother looked at him doubtfully and didn’t say anything.

  “How’re you managing without him?” he asked, in order to change the subject.

  “Managing. The bastard wasn’t any use when he was alive, so in that sense, his absence hardly makes a difference.”

  “And in other ways?”

  “You know…I’d gotten used to him,” she said curtly.

  “What had you gotten used to, his fists and cussing?” he asked ruefully.

  His mother was silent.

  “You promised me an answer,” he reminded her, restless again.

  “Yeah, I remember,” she said, as though considering how to continue.

  “I remember, to this day, his words. He’d tell me that Pammy and I were born in sin. What did he mean?” he asked, determined not to let her avoid the subject this time.

  As a response, his mother got up and went into her room. After some time, she returned with a big stack of pictures.

  “Take a look at these pictures. Maybe you’ll understand,” she said.

  “I don’t understand what these pictures have to do with the bullshit Dad spewed.” He looked at the pictures, which didn’t mean a thing to him.

  “Keep looking,” she urged him, and Jeff looked at the old pictures.

  “Here, this one.” She gripped his wrist. “Take a good look at this one. What do you see?” she asked, overcome with emotion.

  Jeff brought the picture close—a picture of a large, old structure.

  “I don’t understand what this means,” he despaired.

  “Look at the front. There’s a Star of David there. This is the symbol Jews place before their synagogues. What you see is Warsaw’s main synagogue.”

  “Yeah, so?” Jeff recalled the pictures he saw at Ahron’s house. They were almost similar.

  “That’s where my grandfather prayed. …”

  “Your grandfather? He was a Jew?”

  “Yes. My grandparents were Jews. So were their children, one of whom was my mother. According to the Jewish religion, my children and I are also Jews. Your father never accepted that. He couldn’t accept the fact you had Jewish blood,” she said.

  “Even though I was young,” he said with difficulty, “as far as I remember, Grandma went to church with you. She was an even more devoted Christian than you were. Something’s not falling into place here,” he said, agitated and confused.

  “Your grandmother, my mother, may she rest in peace, was born a Jew. The daughter of a respected Jewish orthodox family in Warsaw. When the Nazis invaded Warsaw, they gathered all the Jews and put them in the ghetto. You must’ve heard of that, right?” she asked, but continued talking without waiting for an answer.

  “Most of her family died in the death camps, but my mother hid in the ghetto and managed to avoid deportation. Several months later, she was captured when she wandered outside of the ghetto walls and was sent to Auschwitz. On the way, with another Polish youth, she jumped from the train and found shelter in the woods, with Polish partisans. That’s how her life was saved. After the war, she immigrated to the USA without knowing what had happened to the rest of her family. Without knowing she was the only one who’d survived. A year after she arrived here, she met my father, your grandfather. They fell in love, and she chose to convert to Christianity and change her name to Susan. Shortly after, they got married. After she got married, she stopped showing interest in her past. It was only after my father passed away that she told me everything.” At this stage, his mother was emotionally tearful. Jeff handed her a tissue, and she wiped her tears promptly.

  “But why? Why convert to Christianity? Nowadays, Jews and Christians get married, and no one converts their religion? So, why did she do it?” he insisted stubbornly. He remembered Rivka’s words when she offered herself to him.

  “My mother told me that my grandfather, my father’s father, agreed to the wedding on the condition that she convert to Christianity. But if you ask me, I think that after everything she went through during the Holocaust, she wanted to deny her Judaism. It’s understandable, right?”

  “And Dad knew about this story before you got married?” Jeff inquired as he continued to study the rest of the pictures.

  “Yes, your father knew, and he didn’t care. He was okay with it until you turned six, I think. And then one of his screwed-up friends in the bar taunted him that you were a Jew, and you had to be circumcised like all the Jews. Everyone there burst into laughter, and your father became a laughing stock. Instead of leaving that goddamn bar, he got drunker and drunker until he went completely crazy. And then he made our lives a living hell.”

  “Bastard! That man was a bastard! How can a man ignore his kids like that? How? I don’t get it,” Jeff said between clenched teeth and continued to study the pictures angrily.

  Suddenly, he stopped. His face, which had burned with anger, became cold and pale. Cold sweat covered his forehead and face. He started breathing quickly, and the strong hand holding one of the pictures started trembling. Desperately, he tried to steady his rebellious hand, but to no avail. Then, he tried to focus on the picture, but it shook in his hand like a pendulum. When he tried to say something, his throat closed, and the only thing that emerged from his mouth was white foam. It looked as though he was a second away from suffering a heart attack and collapsing.

  “What happened, Jeffie?” His mother panicked, not understanding what was going on. She ran to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.

  “Drink and calm down,” she ordered, still holding the glass of water.

  “It’s… it’s…” Jeff thrashed in his chair, trying to speak but unable to say a word. In the end, he threw up his hands in despair, pointed at the picture he was still staring at. Then, he started shuffling through the pictures frantically, until he reached the last one.

  “I asked what happened…you’re scaring me, Jeffie! Why are you looking at the pictures that way
?” his mother asked fearfully.

  Jeff raised his eyes and looked at her as though she were a stranger. His body trembled, and with quivering lips, he managed to whisper, “What was Grandma’s name? I mean before she converted to Christianity?”

  “Hannah,” his mother replied.

  “Tell Grandma Hannah I found her family,” he whispered weakly. His body curled into himself as though he was a newborn babe, and he burst into heartbreaking tears. After a long time, he told his mother about Gittel and Rachel, and about Ahron and Rivka. They talked until the small hours of the night. He told her, and she sat there and cried. Sometimes, she shed tears of grief for her lost past and the many family members she’d never met and, sometimes, her tears were tears of joy, full of hope for the future.

  “Mom, do you know,” he said just before he went to sleep. “I think I’ve also found a place for Pam.”

  “Where?” she asked curiously.

  “For the time being, it’s a secret. When I’m sure it’ll work out, I’ll tell you,” he said and refused to add another word.

  When he climbed into the bed of his youth, sniffing the old sheets that seemed as though they hadn’t been laundered since he left three years previously, he called Eve immediately. He knew the conversation would be a long one. He also knew what he’d tell her.

  But this strange day had rules of its own. It held another surprise, one Jeff wouldn’t know about until he’d return to New York.

  Chapter 18

  Yoav sat alert in his seat, ready for whatever came his way. With a sure hand, he grasped the steering stick and navigated the plane after Number 1. After the planes had gained a bit of altitude, they leveled and stabilized for a peaceful vertical flight. Outside, the sun was shining, and the rays permeating the bubble canopy brightened the crowded cockpit. Beneath sprawled the green fields of the Jezreel Valley. But no more than several minutes passed before scenes of green vegetation were replaced with the blue waters of the Sea of the Galilee. After crossing the small lake, the planes gradually broke right and glided to the practice range. The tranquil view changed steadily and became dry and intimidating.

  In the beginning, Yoav thought of the briefing they received before the flight and the possible risks in practice flights, which were destined for a special, complex operation. But very quickly, his thoughts wandered to her, to Rivka. What would happen to her if his plane were intercepted? How would she cope if he were taken into captivity? Would she wait for his return? This wasn’t the first time he thought of her when he flew. Ever since she arrived at the base, he’d thought of her every time he went up in the air. But until now, these thoughts hadn’t bothered him during practice. During drills, he was alert and focused, not allowing himself to be distracted. Only later, did he allow himself to imagine her and derive pleasure from her beauty and immense charm. Mostly, he imagined her wearing the Air Forces light-blue uniform, which went well with her creamy complexion and blue eyes. But sometimes, he went as far as envisioning her under the wedding canopy, with him, Yoav, standing by her side, taking off her veil and kissing her.

  During the first months of her arrival, their relationship entailed no more than conversations about this and that in her office at the squadron. Every time he saw her, he felt his heart beat faster, but only after their first date, which he’d remember until his dying day. Did he feel he truly loved her? He wanted to spend every second with her. One time, he found himself jealous of one of the pilots who’d spent time in her office, chatting with her. Sometimes, the fact that he knew nothing of her past bothered him. He knew she’d come from America and lived with her aunt on a kibbutz, but apart from that, nothing. When their relationship became more serious, he tried to find out, but she avoided answering. Who were her parents? Why did she leave her country of birth? Since when had she lived with her aunt? Was she kicked out of her home, or did she leave of her own free will? Perhaps, she was an orphan, and she had no home or family? And why did he sometimes find her reading chapters from Psalms or whispering a prayer over her food? When he asked if she was religious, she denied it. And even if she were, why would she be ashamed of it? Why wouldn’t she admit it? This bothered him a lot, but didn’t detract from his powerful love for her, maybe even increased it. She was as beautiful as she was mysterious. In his eyes, she was an unapproachable goddess, unattainable, even though she initiated most of their make-out sessions. He wasn’t the conqueror. She initiated, she conquered, she set the pace to their lovemaking. And perhaps, that’s why his desire for her only grew more powerful. One time, when they kissed, he tried, in the heat of the moment, to rid her of her clothes. However, she rejected him sternly.

  “Don’t try that again,” she instructed. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “Sorry,” he said briefly, a bit offended. But he obeyed immediately and reeled in his invasive hands.

  And there was that time that she sent her hands to his intimate parts, and he, naively, thought that the moment had finally arrived, she was finally ready, but to his disappointment, she changed her mind and retreated. Sometimes, he found it hard to understand her indecisive behavior.

  Now, with his plane hovering in the sky— he, its only ruler—he felt as though his love for her knew no boundaries. He tried to put into words what he felt for her, but couldn’t. Right there and then, he decided that when he landed, he’d go straight to the operations room, and before everyone, he’d propose. He’d confess, and tell her the truth: that without her, his life wasn’t a life. And she’d probably accept his proposal, and become his wife, his eternal beloved. And when she’d smile at him and accept his proposal, he’d gather her in his arms and kiss her to the cheers and applause of everyone else.

  But what if she refused? Was it the time to propose? She was so young. A child really. What if she rejected him not because she didn’t want him, but because of her age? If she said no in front of everyone, he’d suffer another defeat—one even bigger than the one he experienced during that aerial battle against Eitan. Wasn’t it better to do it privately, during one of their dates, far from anyone’s scrutiny? Perhaps, he should postpone the matter for a few months? Yesterday, before he kissed her good-bye, she looked at him and smiled, as though waiting for him to say something.

  “If you don’t have anything special to say to me, I’d better go to sleep,” she teased him, and he wasn’t sure if that was disappointment he heard in her voice.

  Now, he saw her again, her beautiful face reflected through the plane’s canopy, her blue eyes looking only at him. Now, her lips were pressing against the canopy, trying to reach his lips. In a second, he’d feel the sweetness of her lips and the heat of her burning body. Suddenly, he started sweating. The cockpit, where he’d always felt as though he was sitting in an armchair at home, became crowded and airless. He checked the AC and saw it was working without a hitch. He took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the thoughts of the one and only, his unattainable goddess.

  “Everyone ready?” Number 1 radioed and cut off his thoughts.

  “Affirmative,” was the answer.

  “What about you, Number 2? What are you daydreaming about?” Number 1 asked.

  “I’m ready.” Yoav snapped out of it, and the planes opened their afterburners, ascended, gathering altitude, and then dove down to the target. The practice was one hour long. Yoav tried to concentrate but failed to do so.

  His concentration was so shot, that he screwed up the final practice.

  “What’s wrong with you?” the commander reprimanded him the minute he landed.

  “I’m sorry.” Yoav lowered his eyes.

  “We won’t have a choice but to replace you. You’ve become really sloppy lately,” the commander said succinctly, and Yoav knew he was right and accepted his words in resignation.

  In the evening, he told Rivka about practice and its dire conclusion.

  “I don’t believe it!” Rivka’s jaw dropped.

  “Believe it,” he replied morosely.

  “But w
hy did this happen?” she asked.

  Yoav was silent. He didn’t want to blame her, not even slightly, for his failure.

  “What happened? Tell me or I’ll go to your commander,” she persisted.

  “I couldn’t concentrate on practice. I was so out of it that I failed to perform the simplest actions.”

  “You couldn’t concentrate? You? Why couldn’t you concentrate? What were you thinking about?” she wondered.

  “You…I was thinking of you…” he said quietly.

  “Me? Yoav, that’s not like you!” she scolded him. Then, she added contritely, “So…what were you thinking about?”

  “What will happen to us if something, God forbid, goes wrong, and if I should propose to you now. …” He squirmed in embarrassment.

  “And did you reach any conclusion?” she asked with shining eyes.

  Yoav was silent for a second. Then he mustered his courage and looked at her imploringly while holding her hand. “I fell in love with you at first sight. My life isn’t a life without you, Rivka. Will you marry me?”

  Rivka looked at him with tender eyes. Her smile seemed to shine on him. She gathered his head to her breast, kissed his curls, and didn’t say a word.

  Chapter 19

  “Mrs. Farmer, you’re pregnant!” her gynecologist announced. When Eve heard the news, her happiness knew no bounds. She was so excited, that tears ran down her face, choking her.

  “Why are you crying, sweetheart? You’re going to be a mother!” the doctor smiled, swept away in her young, beautiful patient’s excitement.

  Eve had been trying, unsuccessfully, to conceive for two whole years. She was starting to fear something was wrong with her. Her fears grew as the months passed. At a certain stage, her doctor suggested that she and Jeff undergo tests and that she, Eve, may even have to go through fertility treatments.

 

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