That night I fell asleep at dawn. I opened my eyes. Shosha was shaking my shoulder. I looked at her bewildered. It took me a while to remember where I was and who was waking me. ‘Arele,’ she said, ‘a young lady is waiting for you. The actress from America.’
After a while Bashele stuck her head in the room. I asked her and Shosha to please leave and close the door. In a rush I put on my underwear, my pants, my shirt, and my jacket. For a minute I thought I had lost the hundred dollars that I carried in the left pocket of my pants. I needed money to buy a train ticket and ship card to go ahead with my plan. Had someone stolen my money? I touched all my pockets with the turmoil of one who wants to live, not to die. Thank God, the banknotes were in a pocket of my vest. My shirt was crumpled, my collar had a spot, I had lost the cuff link of my right sleeve. I screamed through the closed door, ‘Betty, wait! I will soon be out.’ The sun was already scorching me through the open window. From the courtyard I heard the voices: ‘Bagels, hot bagels! Plums, fresh plums!’ A beggar was already scratching out a plaintive melody on a fiddle and his female companion was beating on a little drum with bells, calling for alms. I touched my cheeks. Although I kept on losing the hair on my head, my beard grew with wild impetus. The stubble felt stiff and prickly. Disordered and frowzy, I opened the door and saw Betty freshly made up in a straw hat with a green ribbon, a suit that I had not seen, and white shoes with open toes – a novelty to me. I began to apologize for my appearance.
Betty said, ‘Everything is all right. You don’t have to compete in a beauty contest.’
‘When I fell asleep day was breaking, and—’
‘Stop it. I didn’t come to look you over.’
‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Bashele said to Betty. ‘I keep asking the young lady to sit down, but she has been standing all this time. We don’t live in luxury but our chairs are clean. I dust them every morning. I wanted to make tea, but the young lady refuses everything.’
‘I’m sorry. I just had breakfast. Thank you very much. Tsutsik, forgive me for coming so early in the morning. Actually, my watch shows ten minutes to ten. I came, as they say in America, on business. If you like, we can go out somewhere and talk it over.’
‘Arele, don’t go for long,’ Shosha said. ‘We have prepared breakfast and later we will have dinner. Mommy bought sorrel and potatoes and sour cream. The lady can eat with us.’
‘We have enough for both of you,’ Bashele agreed.
‘How can I eat if I’ve had breakfast already?’
‘Shoshele, we will only go out for half an hour,’ I said. ‘It’s not convenient for us to talk here. Let me find my cuff link and change my collar. One minute, Betty.’
I rushed into the alcove and Shosha followed me. She closed the door. ‘Arele, don’t go with her,’ she said. ‘She wants to take you away from me. She looks like a witch.’
‘A witch? Don’t talk nonsense.’
‘She has such sharp eyes. You told me yourself that you lay with her in bed.’
‘I told you? Well, never mind. Between her and me everything is finished.’
‘If you want to begin with her again, better kill me first.’
‘The way things are going, I will kill you anyhow. I will take you on a ship and we will both jump into the sea.’
‘Is there a sea in Warsaw?’
‘Not in Warsaw. We will go to Gdynia or Danzig.’
‘Yes, Arele, you can do with me whatever you want. Throw me in first or take me to Yppe’s grave and bury me there. As long as you do it, it is good. But don’t leave me alone. Here is your cuff link.’
Shosha bent down and gave it to me. I put my arms around her and kissed her. I said, ‘Shoshele, I have sworn by God and by the soul of my father that I will never abandon you. It’s about time that you trust me.’
‘Yes, I trust you. But when I saw her, my heart began to pound. She is dressed as if she were going to a wedding. All new to please you. She thinks I don’t understand, but I understand everything. When will you be back?’
‘As quickly as possible.’
‘Remember that no one loves you as I do.’
‘Sweet child, I love you, too.’
‘Wait, I have a fresh handkerchief for you.’
3
Betty and I passed the courtyard; it looked like a marketplace. Peddlers were hawking smoked herring, blueberries, watermelons. A peasant had ridden in with his horse and buggy, and he was selling chickens, eggs, mushrooms, onions, carrots, parsley. In other streets, this kind of business was not allowed, but Krochmalna had its own laws. An old woman carrying a sack on her back stood near the garbage bin and with a stick poked through for rags to make paper and for bones used in sugar factories. Betty tried to take my arm, but I gave her a sign not to do it, since I was sure that Bashele and Shosha were watching us from the window. We were watched from other windows, too. Girls wearing loose dresses over their bouncing breasts were shaking threadbare carpets as well as featherbeds, pillows, and mangy fur coats that would be worn when winter began. One could hear the noise of sewing machines, cobblers’ hammers, the planing and sawing of carpenters. From the Hasidic studyhouse came the voices of young men chanting the Talmud. In the cheder, little boys recited the Pentateuch. On the other side of the gate Betty took my arm and said, ‘I didn’t know the number of the house, but after I called and called you on Leszno Street and the maid always replied that you were not there, I decided you must be here on your beloved Krochmalna Street. What kind of a swamp have you fallen into? It absolutely stinks here! Please forgive me, but this Shosha of yours is a perfect imbecile. She asked me to sit down at least ten times. I told her I preferred to stand, but she asked over and over again. I really think you are mad.’
‘You are right. You are right.’
‘Don’t tell me how right I am. You are one of those men who like to sink. In Russia they call them brodyagi. Gorky wrote about them. In New York there is a street called the Bowery, and you see them lying on the sidewalk drunk and half naked. Some of them are intelligent, with higher education. Come, let’s get out of this sewage. An urchin has already tried to grab my purse. You haven’t had breakfast, and I am hungry myself from walking so long around here trying to find the house. All I remembered from my first visit was that there was a ditch in the courtyard. But it seems that they filled it up. Where can we get a cup of coffee?’
‘There is a coffee shop at No. 6, but the underworld goes there.’
‘I don’t want to stay on this street another minute. Hurry, here’s a droshky. Hey! Stop!’
Betty jumped in and I after her. She said, ‘Would you like to have breakfast in the Writers’ Club?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Did you have a quarrel with someone? They say you’ve stopped coming there. How about Gertner’s Restaurant, where we met the first time. My God, it seems so long ago.’
‘Madame, where to?’ The coachman turned his head.
Betty gave him the address. ‘Tsutsik, why are you hiding from people? I met your best friend, Dr Feitelzohn, and he told me you’ve severed connections with him and everybody else. I can understand in a way that you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me, because I’m responsible for what happened, although I had only good intentions. But what’s the sense of a young writer burying himself in such squalor? Why don’t you at least stay in your room on Leszno Street – you pay the rent, after all. Sam is deeply upset about the way you run away from us.’
‘I hear he’s negotiating a play with some trashy writer from New York.’
‘Nothing will come of it. I’m definitely not going to play in that kind of junk. I’ve told you already it’s entirely my bad luck. Everyone who’s involved with me shares my miserable fate. But I told you I came on business and I’m not lying. The story is this. Sam’s not well and I’m afraid he’s sicker than I realized. He’s planning to go back to America. We’ve done a lot of talking in the past few days, much of it about you. Now that there’s no
longer a deadline I’ve had time and the peace of mind to read your play again. It’s not nearly as bad as that short little critic with the tin-framed glasses made it out to be. The insolence of a writer tearing down a piece before it’s been performed! That can happen only among the Yiddishists. Such a malicious worm. Someone introduced me to him and I gave him a piece of my mind. He began to excuse himself and flatter me and twist his tongue like a snake. Actually, I think it’s a good literary play. The trouble is, you don’t know the stage. In America we have men who are called play doctors. They can’t write a line themselves, but somehow they know how to rearrange a piece and make it right for the stage. I’ll make it short – we want to buy your play and try it out in America.’
‘Buy it? Mr Dreiman already gave me seven or eight hundred dollars. It’s his if he wants it. I’m terribly sorry that I’m not able to give him back the money, but he certainly can do what he likes with the play.’
‘Well, I can see you’re not much of a businessman. I’ll tell you something. He’s loaded with money. America is beginning to go through a new period of prosperity, and without lifting a finger, he is making a fortune. If he wants to pay you, take the money. He promised to leave me a large inheritance, but according to the law he has to leave a part of his fortune to his Xanthippe, and perhaps also to his children, though they hate him and defy him. With my luck, I’ll probably get nothing. If he’s willing to give some to you, there’s no reason you should refuse. You won’t be able to write if you remain where you are now. I looked into that alcove of yours. It’s a hole, not a room. You could suffocate in there. What’s the point of it? Even if you want to commit suicide, such a death is too ugly. Here is Gertner’s.’
Betty tried to open her purse, but I had the fare ready in my hand and I gave it to the coachman.
Betty threw me an angry look. ‘What’s the matter with you? Do you want to finance Sam Dreiman?’
‘I don’t want to take any more from him.’
‘Well, everyone is crazy in his own way. Bevies of schnorrers run after him and you are trying to support him. Come, madman. I haven’t been here in God knows how long. I even thought they might not be open so early. In New York there are restaurants where the day begins at lunchtime. Now you may kiss me. We can never really be complete strangers.’
4
The headwaiter rushed toward us and gave us the table in the niche that Sam and Betty always got when they ate here. He said he was sorry he hadn’t seen her and Sam lately. Even though it was still early, there were people already at the tables, eating fish and meat and drinking beer. Betty ordered coffee with cake for herself and made me take rolls with eggs and coffee. The waiter gave us a look of reproach for ordering a late breakfast instead of an early lunch. Those at the other tables gazed at us questioningly. Betty looked too elegant to be my companion. She was saying, ‘How long is it since we’ve seen one another? It seems to me an eternity. Sam wants me to return to America, but in spite of all my disappointments I fell in love with Warsaw. What would I do in America? In New York they know everything that is happening everywhere. In the Actors Union they have surely heard of my defeat, and my stock there will have dropped lower than ever. They sit in the Café Royal and make mountains out of molehills. What’s left to them except to gossip? Some of them saved when times were good. Those who have nothing get relief from the government. In the summer they play a few weeks in the hotels in the Catskill Mountains. America has become a country where one is not compelled to work if he doesn’t want to. They drink coffee and chatter. They play cards. Without cards and gossip they would expire from boredom. My trouble is that I don’t play cards. Sam tried to teach me, but I couldn’t learn even the names of the suits. A stubborn instinct in me refuses to learn. Tsutsik, I’m as good as finished. This was my last game. I’ve nothing left except to commit suicide.’
‘You too?’
‘Who else? Is this why you are going to marry Shosha – to make her a widow?’
‘I’ll take her with me.’
‘Well, you are, as they say, healthy, fresh, and meshugga. In my case I tried to play year after year after year, and I always failed. Besides, I’m older than you. But why should you fall into such despair? You are a writer of stories, not a playwright. So far as the theater goes, you’re still a greenhorn – I think with talent. Oh, here is my cake and your eggs. I used to wonder why those condemned to the electric chair bother to pick out a special last meal. They ask for a rare steak and a tasty dessert. Why should a person care what he eats if he’s going to be dead an hour later? It seems that life and death have nothing in common. You may decide to die tomorrow but today you still want to eat for pleasure and sleep in a warm bed. What are your real plans?’
‘Really, to get through with the whole botched-up mess.’
‘My God, when I was on the ship to Europe I never thought I would drive someone into such a state because of my foolish ambitions.’
‘Betty, it’s not your fault.’
‘Whose fault is it?’
‘Oh, it’s everything together. The Jews in Poland are trapped. When I said this in the Writers’ Club, they attacked me. They had let themselves fall into a stupid kind of optimism, but I know for sure that we will all be destroyed. The Poles want to get rid of us. They consider us a nation within a nation, a strange and malignant body. They lack the courage to finish us off themselves, but they wouldn’t shed tears if Hitler did it for them. Stalin will certainly not defend us. Since the Trotskyite opposition began, the Communists have become our worst enemies. Trotsky is called Judas in Russia. The fact is that the Trotskyites are almost all Jews. If you give a Jew one revolution, he demands another revolution – a permanent one. If you give him one Messiah, he asks for another Messiah. As to Palestine, the world doesn’t want us to have a state. The bitter truth is that many Jews today don’t want to be Jews any more. But it’s too late for total assimilation. Whoever is going to win this coming war will liquidate us.’
‘Maybe the democracies will win.’
‘The democracies are committing suicide.’
‘Well, don’t let your coffee get cold. If you hadn’t decided to carry that silly Shosha on your shoulders, you could easily get yourself to America. There the Jew can still muddle through. I can go back, but the very thought of it makes me shudder. Sam can’t stay at home even one night. He always has to go somewhere – usually to that Café Royal. There he meets the writers he supports and the actresses he used to have affairs with. This is the only place where he is somebody. It’s funny, but there is only one little place in the whole world – a third-rate restaurant – where he feels at home. He eats the blintzes the doctors have forbidden him. He fills up his belly with twenty cups of coffee each day. He smokes the cigars he knows are poison for him. He demands that I go with him, but for me this café is a nest of snakes. They always hated me, but now that I am with Sam they would like to swallow me alive. The Yiddish theater where he takes me at least twice a week has reached its lowest point. To sit there with him and listen to their stale jokes and see sixty-year-old yentas play eighteen-year-old girls is a physical pain. The sad truth is that for me there isn’t one place in the whole world where I feel at home.’
‘Well, we’re a well-matched pair.’
‘We could have been, but you didn’t want it. What do you say to this Shosha all day long?’
‘I don’t say much.’
‘What is this with you, an act of masochism?’
‘No, Betty, I really love her.’
‘There are things you must see to believe. You can never foresee them in your imagination: you and Shosha, me and Sam Dreiman. At least he finds some comfort among his cronies. Tsutsik, look who’s here!’
I raised my eyes and saw Feitelzohn. He stood a few steps from our table with a cigar in his mouth, his Panama hat pushed back, and a cane hooked over his shoulder. I had not seen him with a cane before. He looked older and changed. He smiled with familiar shrewdness, but I im
agined that his cheeks had fallen in, as if he had lost his teeth. He approached our table with small steps. ‘Is this how things are?’ he said with a muffled voice, and then took out the cigar. ‘Well, really, Tsutsik, I begin to believe in your hidden powers.’ He leaned the cigar in the ashtray on our table. ‘I passed by and it occurred to me, “Perhaps Tsutsik is there.” Good morning, Miss Slonim. I’ve become so mixed up that I forgot to greet you. How do you do? It’s nice to see you again. What was it I wanted to say? Yes, Tsutsik. I said to myself, “What would he do here so early? He only comes here with Sam Dreiman and not this early in the day.” I was about to continue my walk but somehow my feet brought me in by their own choice. You should be ashamed of yourself, Tsutsik. Why are you keeping away from your friends? We have all been looking for you – Haiml, Celia, I. I called you perhaps twenty times, but the maid had one answer: “Not home.” What’s wrong? You have better friends in Warsaw?’
‘Dr Feitelzohn, sit down with us,’ Betty said. ‘Why are you standing?’
‘Since you two are huddling in a corner, no doubt you have your secrets. But one can say hello in any case.’
‘We have no secrets. We were talking business and we have finished. Sit down.’
‘I really don’t know what to say,’ I began to stammer.
‘If you don’t know, don’t say. I will say it for you. You have been a little boy and you will remain one for the rest of your life. Look at you,’ Feitelzohn said.
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