She was not disturbed by the hard work. It was all going to lead to something grand, Abe promised, and his dreams stirred her. She was impressed by the uncharacteristic passion he showed when confiding them to her. Besides, she was of a generation that looked upon hard work as due, even a blessing, as long as a free soul could reap the benefits of his own labor.
The customers were warm to her, and she found herself enjoying her dealings with them. Like Abe, she was very shy but also fond of people in general and eager to please. Serving the customers, making them smile and seeing them return was extremely satisfying after the drudgery of piecework sewing. The fragrance of each morning’s delivery of freshly baked bread, the pungent aromas of the smoked fish and meats, the head-spinning variety of canned goods and abundance of produce combined to make the market an exciting place.
It wasn’t long before Leah decided that owning a grocery store was the finest business in the world. As a housewife takes pride in her well-stocked larder, Leah took pride in seeing to it that the shelves were well stocked and clean. She and Abe were closest when they were working together.
“At least,” Abe once told her, “come good times or bad, with a grocery store we’ll never starve.” It became their private joke and could lighten any day-to-day frustration, any upset, conflict or problem.
No, work was not at all the problem for Leah. She welcomed the start of each day, for it meant the end of the previous night’s agonizing.
They had been married a month, and Abe had yet to make love to her. At first she accepted his coolness as normal. Truth to tell, she’d even been relieved. She was a virgin, of course, and beyond the basic facts entirely ignorant. Sadie had told her certain stories guaranteed to make her petrified of being “split open” by a man.
So on their wedding night, when Abe mumbled something about being tired from all the excitement and the drinking, Leah thought it was just as well. Her own head was spinning with nervous exhaustion and too much schnapps. She undressed and put on her nightgown in private—Abe suddenly found something to do in another room—and fell asleep at once. When she awoke the next morning, Abe was downstairs and the store was open for business.
The next night he explained that he had to stay up late working on the accounts. Around three in the morning Leah tiptoed downstairs to find him sound asleep, sprawled across some hastily assembled sacks of potatoes and onions.
Angry and afraid, she confronted him. Her own insecurity made her cry. Abe swore that he’d only decided to nap for a moment, that he was going back to work. Finally he came upstairs, but only after she pretended to have fallen asleep.
It went on like that. Only by feigning sleep could she coax him to lie beside her. In their month of marriage he had yet to touch her. In that month neither had seen the other naked.
Leah didn’t know what to do, and she couldn’t discuss it with Abe. She sensed that speaking of the problem would only worsen it, just as she sensed that Abe was equally miserable. She could tell he loved her. That love was far more important to Leah than the physical passion Abe was afraid to express; no, afraid to release.
All the same, a marriage without its physical aspect was like a painting with no color. What she could do about it was the question. She had to find a way to build her husband’s confidence, to bridge the yawning chasm.
It was not a bad marriage. They were certainly companionable during the day. It was only at night that they became estranged.
Big deal. So my man and I are good business partners, she fumed. What good is that? I’ve got to shake things up. The ice has to be broken. Something very good or very bad has to happen to make him see me differently. Maybe if someone attacked me and Abe had to rush to my defense—
God forbid! She shuddered. How could she even briefly imagine such a catastrophe? Poor Abe could never stand against that sort of scoundrel.
As the days wore on Leah helped in the store, cooked and cleaned upstairs and thought hard about how to solve the problem. For the first time in her life she had no one to turn to for help. It was all up to her, simple as that. Her future happiness, not to mention Abe’s, depended on her ingenuity.
Whatever was to be done, it had to happen soon. Like slow-acting poison, their nightly estrangements were gradually coloring their relationship in the store. If Leah didn’t act, there would be no marriage left to save. She settled down to think of a solution.
* * *
Leah was at the back of the store cutting bread for a customer when the bell above the door jingled and Joseph walked in. It was a late summer’s evening, just a few minutes before the store was to close for the day.
Listening as Abe welcomed his brother-in-law, Leah totaled up a housewife’s bill, wrapped her purchases and showed her out.
“All finished for today?” Leah asked Abe.
“Yes, time to lock up.” He winked at Joseph. “Especially since we have a guest.”
Leah turned the key in the door and put the “CLOSED” sign in the window. Behind her she heard Abe inviting Joseph upstairs for a drink and some supper.
“No, let’s stay here,” Joseph said. He had come directly from his job at the slaughterhouse, so he was still dressed in his summer workclothes. His cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up showed off his powerful physique. He had always been a large man, but years shouldering heavy carcasses added inches to his already broad chest and wrapped thick layers of ropy muscle around his arms. Joseph’s thighs looked as thick as Abe’s waist, Leah noted. Standing before them in his blood-spattered clothing, sporting his long tangled beard and his wild mane of curls, he reminded Leah more of an old-time frontier pioneer in Texas than a Jewish immigrant on the Lower East Side of New York.
“Yes, we’ll stay downstairs.” Joseph was grinning, looking around. “This way I can get used to things.”
Abe glanced quizzically at Leah, who shrugged. “Get used to what?” he asked Joseph pleasantly.
Joseph’s rough, sinewy hands spread wide. “Your store, of course.” His teeth gleamed against his black beard. “I’m going to be your partner.”
“Joseph,” Leah gasped, “what are you talking about?”
“Leah,” Abe said firmly, “please, I will handle this.” He turned back toward Joseph. “Now then, please tell me what you have in mind.”
Joseph shrugged. “Well, now that you’ve married Leah, we’re all one big family, yes?”
“We are related by marriage,” Abe acknowledged.
“All right, then.” Joseph helped himself to an apple and began to chomp. “Sadie has been after me to get out of my job,” he remarked between mouthfuls. “This business would be perfect. I have decided to come in as your partner.”
“Now just a minute, Joseph,” Leah fiercely cut in.
“Leah, please go upstairs,” Abe said calmly.
“But—”
“Please do as I ask.”
Sulking, she trudged past the two men to the rear of the store. Halfway up the staircase, out of the line of sight, she settled down on a step to listen.
Abe stood with his hands on his hips regarding Joseph. He was a little afraid of the huge fellow. His virile, confident brother-in-law seemed to be Abe’s better in every way. He’s got no problems siring sons, Abe taunted himself, for his lack of intimacy with his wife gnawed at him constantly.
“Of course there will be some changes,” Joseph announced before he ate the core in two quick bites.
“Really? What will they be?” As Abe spoke he undid his apron and tossed it onto the counter. Normally he liked his shopkeeper’s attire, but right now it was making him feel self-conscious.
“First of all, Sadie will not allow the sale of trayf foods,” Joseph explained, “and she will want to keep the books—”
“Get out of here,” Abe said. His voice was steady, but he could feel himself trembling with fury. “Get out of my store.”
Joseph’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t talk to me like that,” he growled. “Soon I’ll be t
he one giving the orders, little man. You may as well accept your new partner and let that be the end of it.”
“Never,” Abe shouted. “I won’t have it.” He was so angry he slid into English. “Go on, get out from here before I call the cops on you.”
Muttering an oath, Joseph took a menacing step toward Abe, who darted away, swinging around his counter. There was a hickory club stashed away on the shelf beneath the cash register. Abe had put it there when he first opened, vaguely figuring that it might be a line of defense against a robbery.
Now he took up his club and stood his ground with the counter between him and his opponent. “Stay away, Joseph.”
Joseph eyed the little shopkeeper warily. “You going to hit me with that, Abe?” he asked softly. He took another step closer to rest the tips of his blunt fingers on the scarred countertop.
Abe wanted to retreat a step, but he stood his ground. He tightly gripped the club and rested it on his shoulder the way the boys held their broom handles when playing stickball on the street.
“God forgive me,” Abe muttered hoarsely, “but I’ll crack your skull to keep what’s mine.”
Joseph nodded and backed off, heading for the door. “All right, you win. I’m not prepared to have my head broken over this matter, Abe.” He turned the key to let himself out, and as he pulled open the door, he looked back and smiled. “No hard feelings, right? Maybe I misjudged you.” He was gone.
Abe was still clutching his club and still shaking as Leah ran down the steps to embrace him.
“How wonderful you were!” she told him, her tone and eyes overflowing with relief and tears. “How brave to stand up to that bully!”
Abe nodded a trifle uncertainly. He was panting for breath and his blood burned due to the excitement. What had he been prepared to do? He realized he was still holding the club and dropped it to put his arms around his wife. The warmth and softness of her beneath his exploring fingers, her scent as he pressed his face into her dark thick hair, made him dizzy.
Why should her touch be so unfamiliar? he wondered sadly. Why am I so afraid to hold her—to reveal my feelings, be they love or anger? I stood up to Joseph, didn’t I? There is nothing to be afraid of.
“Leah,” he said thickly, “if it hadn’t been for you—I would also fight for you. . . .” He held her at arm’s length, staring earnestly into her eyes. “You understand that, don’t you?”
He hesitated then. The anger had vanished—no, it was still surging within him, but it had been transformed into desire for Leah. He wanted to cry out with the intensity of it. He felt changed, renewed by his earlier fury. He felt as giddy as he had in the whiskey-drinking days.
Leah was gazing up at him, a look of yearning in her dark eyes. “Husband,” she murmured, leaning against him, “all the excitement—I feel dizzy. Help me upstairs.”
Abe, his arm around her waist, led her toward the back staircase. His own limbs had turned rubbery. The adrenaline was draining out of him now, but he still felt clearheaded and invigorated.
Just like being drunk, he thought, like being drunk and walking outside in the frosty winter air.
“Leah, I love you,” he whispered to her at the foot of the stairs. “I do love you, you know.”
“Come upstairs.”
In their bedroom only a single candle flickered. Abe watched mesmerized as his wife disrobed. He had never seen a naked woman before. He gazed awestruck at her breasts, at the soft swell of her belly, her hips, her thighs, the thatch at her center.
I am so afraid . . . he thought as he began to undress, and then he remembered how he’d just stood up to Joseph.
Naked, they stood face to face, tentatively discovering each other’s body, at first smiling and then giggling as they elicited in each other sensations neither one had ever before experienced. Finally Abe led his wife to their bed. Leah drew the coverlet up over them and leaned over Abe, unpinning her braids, shaking them free, so that her long tresses cascaded over him like a soft, gleaming waterfall.
When Abe slid into her at long last, they both cried out, rejoicing in each other. Their celibate time together was impossible to fathom, even to imagine.
They loved each other until daybreak. There was no such thing as exhaustion. Each satisfaction only led to desire that was stronger than before. When they finally fell asleep, their slumber was deeper than either had ever known.
The next day in the store they could not look at each other without breaking into blushing giggles, and the customers all thought the marriage was off to a good start. At last they were behaving like newlyweds.
There was usually a lull in business during the midafternoon. Leah told Abe she wanted to shop for material to make curtains. She’d be back before things got busy again around five o’clock.
She headed west to the Hudson, where the slaughterhouses and meat-packing plants lined Washington Street. It was a long walk and the day was very warm, with the sun shining in a clear, deep blue sky, but Leah was far too full of happy energy to sit still on a trolley. As she walked her eyes drank in the colorful pageant that was Manhattan on a September day, while her mind languidly replayed the exquisite pleasure of last night. As she walked she felt a slight twinge between her legs. How delicious to know that womanly ache at long last!
Leah got to her destination just in time. It was four o’clock and the slaughterhouse was releasing its workers for the day.
When Joseph appeared she waved, catching his eye. He waved back and angled across the street to where she was waiting.
“Well?” he demanded. “Tell me.”
How tired he looks, Leah thought. Joseph’s clothing and even his beard were glistening with fresh blood. He stank like the carcasses he spent his days hefting on his back.
“Everything I won’t say,” Leah smiled demurely.
“That well it worked, eh?” Joseph threw back his head and roared. “You have turned into a witch, little Leah. I must say, when you came to me saying, ‘Joseph, you must pick a fight with Abe,’ I thought you’d gone mad. Then when you told me why, I was ready to give up on both you and your meshugga husband.” He laughed again. ‘Come to the store,’ you begged. ‘In the evening come, just before we are to close. Tell Abe you expect a partnership and that you intend to be the boss. Make him mad, make him lose his temper.’”
Leah grinned like a cat full of milk. “It worked,” she said smugly.
Joseph, laughing so hard the tears rolled down to wet his beard, put his arm around Leah to hug her. She endured his embrace despite his awful stench, for she was very fond of this fierce-looking fellow who was really so compassionate and kind. Not once had he mocked Abe when she told him about the trouble. Not only had he helped her, he also kept it a secret from Sadie.
“You’ll come home with me for supper?” Joseph suggested. “I know Sadie would like to see you.”
“I can’t. The store gets busy at five. I’ll be late if I don’t hurry back. Another time Abe and I will both come.”
“Another time,” Joseph nodded agreeably. Then he eyed Leah. “You think Abe will ever talk to me again?”
“Of course. He’s already told me he hopes you’ll make up with him. He likes you better now that he’s stood up to you.”
“This is too mixed up for me,” Joseph complained. “One thing I do know: That husband of yours has got plenty of guts. He didn’t know I was fooling when I chased him around the store.”
“I’m glad you’ve forgiven him for threatening you with that club,” Leah sighed, relieved.
“Big deal, a club,” Joseph snorted. “What else should he have done against a man three times bigger than him? Right here at the slaughterhouse there are strong men who do not stand up to me. Yes, your husband is all right, I’m glad to say.” His smile gradually faded. “Except that he thinks too much.”
Leah shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve got to go. Thank you, again, sweet Joseph.”
He waved her off, calling, “Don’t ask me again; Abe will mur
der me.” The last Leah heard of him was his laughter, booming deep as thunder.
As she hurried home she considered what Joseph had said. Abe thinks too much, does he? Well, maybe so. He can do our thinking and I’ll do our feeling, and between the two of us we should prosper, God willing.
The sun was lower in the sky; it burnished the tall buildings and splashed orange and crimson fire against the high windows. As Leah walked, she thought about all the nights of love to come. Just when, she wondered excitedly, will I feel our first child within me?
Chapter 15
Um Jumi, 1912
Rosie Kolesnikoff waited until fall to take her son to the kibbutz by the Jordan. She longed to rejoin her husband and present him with his son, but her own desires were overshadowed by her maternal instincts. She would not risk Herschel’s health. There was less chance of contracting fever in the cooler weather of the fall.
The Galilee settlement of Um Jumi was quite a different place than when Haim arrived nearly a year ago. For one thing there were many more people. Some of the newcomers applied for membership, but most were itinerant volunteers, ready to lend a hand and then move on to the other frontier outposts springing up in Palestine.
Over the summer a new, permanent site six miles from Tiberias had been chosen. Thanks to Haim’s agreement with the fellahin of Um Jumi, building materials could be brought in by boat. The membership was eager to impress the sponsoring National Fund, so the long, dry summer days were taken up with construction as well as agriculture. With the extra help the settlement quickly raised a barn, a new, larger dining hall—with a roofed porch—a kitchen, and a cistern to hold water. Private cottages were erected for the married couples and a barracks for the unmarried and transients.
Everybody was very busy and a new face was no longer a novelty, so Herschel and Rosie’s arrival caused very little excitement. Herschel was not the first child at the settlement. That honor belonged to another baby boy. With two around the rule against having children was ignored. The wives began to announce their pregnancies to great applause during the nightly meetings.
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