In the Land of Happy Tears

by Yiddish Tales for Modern Times

  Manik was now even more angry. He rushed over to the table, poured himself a big glass of whiskey, gulped it down, and wanted to roll up his sleeves. But he was already half-undressed—without a shirt, so he just stood there, with sweaty, disheveled hair, and, with mouth frothing, looking stubbornly and childishly at the floor, thinking about what he should do. Then he suddenly rolled up his pants and grabbed a bottle from a pile of empty ones standing next to the mirror. Anik did the same, and—hack, knak, boom—they started hitting each other on the head until they both fell, bloody all over. Manik, with a bottle in his hand, was still whispering: “You nasty me, you!…You hit yourself with bottles, no less, you drunkard. You ne’er-do-well, you good-for-nothing….”

  When a certain poor neighbor came by in the morning to ask them what time it was—they’d always tell him, free of charge, merely in exchange for his cleaning out their stables once a week and brushing their two horses—he found the two brothers lying on the cold floor, in a river of broken mirror glass. They were both in nearly the exact same position, with bottles in their hands. It was as if a man had fought his own shadow, and both of them had won….

  Translated by David Stromberg

  EARLY SPRING

  It’s so exciting to finally be able to jump up and down the green branches of our tree, to crack nuts, and to chase big worms and flies—all by myself!

  I remember, as if in a dream, that just a short while ago I was weak and helpless.

  Not for a second did Mama leave me or my younger sister, Libele. Papa brought us nuts, cracked them himself, and put the sweet kernels into our mouths. How long ago was that?

  And now I feel like I could jump across the whole world!

  Libele is weaker than I am. She’s still sitting in the nest. But I can’t stay put in the nest any longer. The sun’s shining! The birds are singing. It’s so fun, so exciting, all around. I’d like to jump through all the trees, but Mama has warned me not to go too far from the nest.

  I have to describe my whole family to you. Mama and Papa love us very much. When we were still tiny, Mama licked us clean and brushed us with her paws. “Look, dear, what beautiful children we have. The world hasn’t seen more beautiful squirrels than ours,” she often used to say to Papa.

  Papa looks at us proudly. He teaches us to run across the smooth tree trunk, to hop from the trunk to the nearest branches, to jump from one tree to another. He teaches us how to catch worms, how to hold a nut, how to crack it open, and how to spit out the shell.

  We live in a big park, in the hollow of a tall old tree. Mama and Papa built a warm nest on the uppermost branches. We have a soft bed made of leaves, twigs, and moss. Above us is a canopy. It protects us from rain and wind. When the sun’s out, I love dancing all around on the trees. Mama and Papa don’t let us hop too far by ourselves. “You’re still young and not careful. You could be snatched away by a weasel or an owl.”

  I don’t understand how I could be snatched away by anyone. I’ve already seen an owl once—it’s a blind old bird. Before it even stirs, I’ll run off far, far away!

  I haven’t seen a weasel yet. Papa says weasels can jump as fast as we can, but I don’t believe it. I think he’s only scaring us. He just doesn’t want us to run far away.

  EARLY SUMMER

  Yesterday Papa and Mama went to visit friends. Libele and I stayed at home by ourselves.

  “My son,” said Papa, “keep an eye on your sister. She’s still frail. Don’t fight with her. You have a couple of nuts and acorns here. If it’s not enough for you, you can pick a few from the tree yourself. Just remember, my child, don’t go far. Be careful!”

  Papa and Mama went away. We were left alone.

  The sun shone and cast broad shadows across the park’s long pathways. I couldn’t stop jumping and dancing all over the tree branches.

  Tap-tap, tap-tap. I heard an unfamiliar knocking.

  “Libele, who is it? Who’s knocking like this?” I asked.

  Libele didn’t reply.

  “Come, Libele, let’s jump. Let’s see what’s there.”

  “And what will Papa say? Don’t go, Nutcracker. I’m scared.”

  But I was already off. I leapt, stopped, listened to where the sound was coming from, and jumped again from tree to tree. Suddenly I saw a narrow crack in a tree and heard a squeak.

  Mama and Papa punish me all the time for my curiosity. Well, I’m very curious. I went up to the crack and stuck my nose inside. I couldn’t see anything, but I heard the squeak again. I curved my back to make it as thin as I could and slipped inside the crack.

  It was dark. I saw nothing. I went through a narrow passage and suddenly found myself in a huge nest. Five tiny baby birds sat huddled together.

  Then I saw a big bird with a long beak, in which she carried worms for her babies.

  I was afraid, but the bird even more so. She flew back a little. In one breath, I slipped out of the crevice and made off.

  I ran on and on. The sun set. I looked around: I didn’t know where to go. I was lost.

  What would happen now? The park was large, and I was all alone. I looked around helplessly.

  I stopped to catch my breath. With a fresh, cool gust of wind, my nose picked up a familiar smell. I set off again, in the direction of the scent. I ran, stopped, sniffed, and ran again until I spotted our sweet tree.

  I was up in the nest in a flash!

  “Where have you been?” exclaimed Mama, weeping with joy. “We’ve been crying our eyes out!…Why aren’t you answering? Where have you been?”

  “Let me rest a little….I crawled into a woodpecker’s nest….I saw five baby birds….I ran away from their mother….And I got lost!”

  “No harm done,” Papa said. “You take after me. You’ll go far!”

  “But please be careful next time, Nutcracker! We’ve been so anxious,” said Mama tenderly. “Now go to bed!”

  Tired but satisfied, I curled up in my little bed and went straight to sleep.

  HOT SEASON

  Every day, it gets hotter in the park. I’m strong now. So is Libele. We already know the whole park. Now Libele can also sneak into a bird’s nest and suck out the eggs. What else is new? All the birds have a lot of respect for us.

  A weasel has chased me more than once. He really is very fast, but I’m fast and smart—and he can’t catch me.

  I know all the animals in our park. Papa’s pleased with me. He says that by next spring, I’ll be able to build my own nest.

  He also says that besides the animals, you have to be very careful with people. I haven’t seen them yet. “Humans,” Papa says, “are stronger and smarter than all the animals.”

  Even more than weasels? It can’t be.

  THUNDERSTORM SEASON

  What a thunderstorm we had in our park today! I haven’t seen such flashes of lightning or heard such claps of thunder in my whole life.

  Earlier it was hot and humid. I had no energy to jump, and it was hard to breathe. I looked around. Suddenly everything was still: the leaves didn’t rustle, the wind didn’t blow. A heavy black cloud covered the sun and the entire sky.

  All the birds flew around, confused and frightened, looking for their nests.

  A heavy rain fell, and suddenly the sky split in half and bright lightning cut right through the whole overcast sky. Soon afterward came the thunder. I hadn’t heard such a clap in all my life.

  “Are you coming inside?” Papa called from the nest.

  We went inside and I hid in a corner. Everyone sat quietly without moving, like a mouse, though Libele was crying.

  Then the trees began to groan, the leaves to fall, and thunder followed lightning again and again, until suddenly a thunderbolt hit a tree that stood not far from us.

  I shut my eyes tight against the mighty
flash.

  But the peals of thunder grew farther and farther apart. It got lighter little by little. The rain stopped and only dripped from the branches. The air smelled strongly of tree resin and grass.

  I went outside slowly. Many big trees had been broken. The tree that had been hit by a thunderbolt had split in two and was still smoking.

  “Where are you off to, silly?” Mama pulled me back in by the tail. “Wait until the sun shines….Just look at the state of his fur.”

  I got back into the nest. Libele was still crying.

  HUNTING SEASON

  I saw people for the first time today. Papa’s right. Humans are strong.

  I was sitting on a branch high in a tree and cracking nuts. Libele was sitting on a branch beneath and doing the same.

  “You know, Nutcracker, I’m cutting new teeth,” she exclaimed with joy.

  Her teeth have been ground down, since Libele obviously has a really big sweet tooth. But she was afraid she’d no longer be able to crack nuts.

  I was very happy and immediately jumped to the branch she was sitting on.

  Suddenly we heard a rustle and heavy steps. We looked down through the branches, and I don’t know why, but I felt really scared. I dropped all my nuts.

  We had never seen animals like these in our wild old park.

  They lifted something off their backs and pressed it against their shoulders. A short bang sounded, and a fiery spark struck the tree, not far from where we were sitting.

  “Run, Libele!” I shouted, jumping from branch to branch.

  When I told Mama everything, she said, “Those were people, our worst enemies.” Now I understand why people are even stronger than weasels.

  NUTS AND SEEDS

  Summer’s gone. I look at our park and can’t recognize it. Nothing’s green anymore. Between the branches, you see yellow, red, and brown. And so many hazelnuts, acorns, and beechnuts!

  What a life it is for us now, what a joy! You can forage all you want—under every leaf, on every tree. If it isn’t a nut, it’s a pinecone. If it isn’t a pinecone, it’s an acorn. And if it’s neither of those, it’s a seed that the wind has scattered.

  Papa says we need to feed less. It’s better to save for the bitter winter, when even a seed is hard to come by.

  I listen to him, but our Libele has such a sweet tooth! She doesn’t want to understand at all. But yesterday she nearly paid for her sweet tooth with her life.

  A cold rain had been falling nonstop for a couple of days. Then yesterday it turned warm, and the sun shone again.

  We jumped from tree to tree, deeper and farther into our park. We found ourselves in a corner that was unfamiliar to us. Suddenly Libele called out to me:

  “Look, Nutcracker, some nice-looking little people are sitting by the window in that small house. They’re doing something and don’t see us. I’d love to know what they’re busy doing all day. I don’t see them jumping around or cracking nuts like we do.”

  And with one leap, she got down from our tree and jumped onto a chestnut tree that stood near the window.

  The children heard the rustle of the branches. They lifted their eyes and saw us, then started whispering something to each other. In a bit, the little girl brought sweet almonds, scattered them on the ground, and hid under a tree.

  “Libele, don’t go!” I said. “Remember—you’ll be sorry!”

  But Libele, as you know, has a very sweet tooth. She didn’t hear me and jumped right down. I followed. Suddenly a hat dropped on us, and the girl had us. But I scratched and bit her finger so badly that she let go of her brother’s hat and ran back home, crying.

  “It’s all because of you and your sweet tooth,” I shouted when we were back in the tree.

  “And you don’t have a sweet tooth, then, do you? Why did you come along?”

  I was ashamed to admit it was true.

  “I was afraid for you,” I explained.

  “Of course, as if I don’t know!”

  We would’ve surely fought for a long time if not for Mama and Papa: they made peace between us.

  BIRD MIGRATION

  It’s cold in the park. Winds blow, yellow leaves fall. All the birds flock together in large groups and fly away from us.

  “Where are they going?” I asked Papa.

  “They’re cold here, my child. They’re looking for warmth and light, so they’re flying off to lands where it’s always warm.”

  “What about us? Why aren’t we running off to warmer lands?”

  “We’ll find a way to get through the hard times here.”

  Our uncle, who lives in the forest, has come to visit us today. Mama called us over.

  “Dear children,” she said, “the lovely summer is gone. Hard times are coming. There will no longer be any nuts or seeds. We must prepare well with stores of food for the entire winter so that we don’t suffer hunger and hardship. Your uncle has suggested we move from here to the forest. It’s bigger than our park. Your uncle has already found a warm, dry hollow for us. Now it’s time for you to help us stock up on food. You need to feed less, and instead bring everything into our storeroom. Libele, stop fidgeting! Listen to what I’m telling you, you little glutton. If you eat too much now, you’ll starve in the winter.”

  We promised Mama to help with the difficult preparations.

  TOIL AND LABOR

  Days of toil and hard work have started for us. We run back and forth all day, gathering acorns, pinecones, and nuts, and dragging them all over to different spots in the forest. I don’t know how we’ll remember where we put our stashes. Papa says we need to put them in different places—perhaps he knows better.

  It’s lots of fun in the forest. Our whole family lives here, and we’ve already made new friends, too.

  SNOW

  We finished preparing our food stores a couple of days ago. After that, we just lay curled up in our nest. We didn’t even feel like running out of the nest. It didn’t stop raining.

  Yesterday it snowed for the first time. It snowed all day, and the ground and trees were all covered with white fluff.

  I ran outside right away. The sun shone, reflecting in the snowflakes, which sparkled like diamonds.

  I found my friends. I really like one of them. Libele is pretty, but my girlfriend is even prettier.

  “A lovely couple,” says my family about us when we jump around together, looking for seeds.

  DEEP FROST

  Powerful frosts have set in. The forest is still and white. It dreams its winter dreams, but we aren’t bored. I love dancing on crackling branches, running on the ground, and watching my own tracks in the snow. Every now and then, a deer runs by. Sometimes a gray hare comes hopping along, stops, pricks up his long ears, and is off again. Sometimes a black raven comes flying. Even he has turned paler.

  Yesterday people came to the forest. They were dressed warmly. They were wearing tall hats on their heads and gloves on their hands.

  I’m not cold, either. For winter, I grew a new thick, dark coat.

  I hid in the nest and peeked out.

  They marked many young firs and pines and left.

  Today they came back with axes and saws and chopped down the young firs and pines.

  I feel sorry for the little young trees.

  WINTER ENDS

  We don’t leave our nest for weeks at a time. We lie curled up and sleep all day long. Once in a while, when we’re very hungry, we run out to our food stashes to get something to eat.

  But I’m bored. My head has started to spin from all this whiteness. I yearn for the sun, for the young green grass, for hazelnuts and chestnuts.

  WARM SUNLIGHT

  I’m getting ready to move back to our old park. My girlfriend’s coming with me. It’s getting warmer ever
y day. The snow melts, water drips from the trees. Flowers sprout, our creek is flowing. The birds arrive from the warm lands. The air resounds with their singing and warbling.

  I’d also like to wander around the world, as they do. They say there are no squirrels in the warm lands. I asked a cuckoo.

  “Cuckoo, cuckoo,” he replied. “None, none!”

  How is that possible?

  BLOOMING AND REBIRTH

  We’ve been in our sweet park for two weeks now. I know and love every path and corner here. The flowers have already bloomed. Bluebells, lilies, and violets fill the air in our park with fragrance. Golden bees land on every flower and suck out the nectar. The birds lay eggs in their nests. My nest is built on a tall tree, separate from our parents’. Libele also has a boyfriend. She lives not far from us. We see each other a couple of times a day.

  But now I’m preoccupied and busy. I have no time to write in my diary, either. After all, I’m going to become a father soon!

  And so I’m ending my diary.

  Translated by Lena Watson

  There was once, in Prague, a great rabbi whose name was Gur Aryeh. He was a virtuous person and a great sage, and people from surrounding cities, towns, and villages would come to him for advice and blessings.

  His name reached the king of the land, and the king ordered for Gur Aryeh to be brought to the palace.