Ravenscraig

by Sandi Krawchenko Altner

  Rupert thrived in Atlanta. The gentleman was kind and true and kept his word. He was fond of the bright young man and planned a secure future for Rupert in his business, noting how quickly he learned everything that was thrown at him. He told Rupert that he was blessed to have him and that together they would build the company. It would all be Rupert’s one day, he said. Sadly, it was not to be. None of the promises were written down. It was a riding accident that claimed the life of Rupert’s benefactor, a man still in the prime of life. His wife inherited every penny of the estate and immediately sold the business. Rupert suddenly found himself with no future in the South. With no money, and no pedigree with which to gain entrance to southern society, he returned to Toronto, found work in the building trade and started part-time classes at university, intent on becoming a lawyer. He would starve, he decided, before he would give up on his education. Without an education, he believed his life would be worth nothing.

  It was when he first started university and came to know the privileged young men of wealth that Rupert saw the path for his future. He decided he would become one of the richest men in Canada. To do this, he determined he would have to start with marrying a wealthy woman. He had only his charm to accomplish this task, but it proved more than enough.

  It seemed a lifetime ago.

  Now he had both a rich wife and a stunning mansion. He opened the hot water tap to bring the heat up in his bath. There was only one major challenge left. He needed to be accepted by the men who mattered in Winnipeg, the fastest growing city in the Dominion. With that, nothing would stand in Rupert’s way.

  Chapter Four

  Zhvanets

  September 27, 1895

  Zev took his time, methodically going through his chores in the barn. The letter from his brother had brought hard news and he needed time alone to plan how he would break it to the rest of the family.

  His hands moved firmly over the strong back of his horse as he sought to ease the ache of his horrible disappointment through the familiar work and the comforting sounds and smells around him. The mare’s nose pushed against his hand and he rubbed her gently, unable to muster enough cheer to sing the little Yiddish rhymes to her, as was his custom. She was a good and patient worker and he had been fortunate to be able to afford to keep her. Now with his travel plans destroyed, he would not have to scrimp on her feed. She would be the only one to benefit from their new direction, the death of their dreams.

  His mother was going to be devastated. It broke Zev’s heart to know his father would never again touch his mother’s face. They would stay in Zhvanets. There would be no escape from the Pale of Settlement for Zev Zigman and his family. There was nothing to be done about it. Nothing, except get used to it.

  For two days Zev had carried the letter in his pocket and brooded about the sad news. He felt crushed under the weight of his troubles. Ten years had now passed since Leib and Esther had made their “temporary” move to England and twelve years since his father had left for Canada. The reunion was never going to happen. Through no fault of his own, Leib had failed. They all had failed.

  As Zev spread fresh straw in the mare’s stall, his worries settled into a deep sadness for his mother.

  Leib was seventeen when his father left, and Zev sixteen. Baruch had headed for Canada with a small party of men and some families who were setting up a farming colony on the Canadian prairies. At the time, Baruch was forty-two and strong and healthy; he believed he was on his way to the golden land. But the farming experiment in Saskatchewan was a disaster and the colony had suffered terrible losses. Starved off the land after three hard years, Baruch had moved to Winnipeg. There, he took what work he could find, digging ditches and hauling water in a cart he pulled by hand. Zev knew that his father had probably gone hungry just to send what little money he could back to his family in Russia.

  In Zhvanets, the czar’s ever-tightening restrictions made life ever harder for Jews to make a living in the Pale of Settlement. Baruch’s sons had grown into men, married and started their own lives. Leib went to London, the grandchildren were born, months slipped into years, and still there were no tickets for the rest to leave. There was only a deepening poverty and a bleak outlook for the future.

  Through every day of Baruch’s absence, Bayla prayed for her husband’s safety. Every letter from him, as infrequent as they were, created a fountain of joy for the family, affirming that he was still alive so many thousands of miles away. Bayla’s steadfast commitment stood as a beacon of hope for all of them. Her frequent stories about the good life they had shared for the nineteen years they had together before he left fueled her faith and her unwavering determination to one day join him. God would not let her down, she insisted. He would answer her prayers, in His own time.

  How was Zev going to tell her that it was not be? How was he going to tell his wife, still grieving for her murdered parents and brother, that they would live out their lives under the czar’s rule?

  Zev was a practical man. First he would talk with Hannah. He would show her the letter and together they would reshape their plans for their future with their three young children. As he turned to close the door to the barn, his mother came up behind him. There was deep concern in her voice.

  “Zev, are you all right?”

  “Yes, fine, Mama.”

  “Zev, you haven’t been yourself for days. Maybe you should talk about what is troubling you. Hannah is beside herself with worry for your health. Are you not feeling well, son?”

  “I am not sick, Mama,” he answered simply.

  “Ah. I see. What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “Is something wrong? Yes, actually. We are poor, we are being taunted and crushed by the czar and I have no way of finding a prosperous future for my children. That is what is wrong, Mama.”

  “Zev! What is wrong with you to talk this way?”

  “Mama, I am sorry. I just don’t know where to turn anymore. I never imagined we would still be here. Year after year goes by and we are still stuck hard in this place with no future.”

  “Leib will make the money. You will see. Any day now we should hear about the papers that Esther has promised. Why are you talking this way?”

  “It is not so easy for Leib, Mama.”

  “You have news?” A smile broke across her face and then immediately vanished as he fixed his gaze on her.

  “Oh, dear God. You have bad news, then? Has something happened to my Leib?” She drew her apron to her face and twisted it.

  “No Mama, he is fine. Esther is fine.”

  “And Malka?”

  “Malka, too, is good. She’s well, the little girl.”

  Zev’s resolve started to crack when he saw the tears in his mother’s eyes. “Yes, I have a letter. Mama, please, I will give you all the news, but first I must speak to Hannah. Will you ask her to come outside?”

  Bayla felt her heart pounding. Aching for the news, yet driven by tradition and respect for her son as head of the family, she fought down her fears and found her footing.

  “Yes, of course, Zev. She is putting the children to sleep. I will go sing to them. They need their Baba to sing Tumbalalaika, yes?” She forced a smile.

  “Thank you, Mama. Please don’t worry. We will be all right. After I talk to Hannah, then I will tell you everything.”

  The little bench was nothing more than a couple of rough planks set across two heavy logs sawed from tree trunks. But since their babies started to arrive, it had also been his special place for quiet talks with Hannah. The bench sat in the dirt against the south wall of the house, in the shadow of a very old chestnut tree. Zev had built it as a surprise for Hannah and they had talked there many times over the years. She had planted h ollyhocks on both sides of the seat to soften the cheerless look of the worn boards on the tired home. The landlord didn’t seem to mind. At least, he never asked them to remove them.

  Zev sat down and handed the letter to Hannah.

  Dear Brother,

&nbs
p; I am sorry to tell you that life has turned very hard for us. I envy you the honest work in Zhvanets. “Honest work with honest hands,” our father would always say when we were children. Maybe it is just that I am not suited for life in a city. My view of London has changed so much in the years that we have been here. Once I saw it as shining with hope, now I see London as nothing more than dark and damp with mean streets and overcrowded houses. There are not enough hours in the day to make enough money to live from the meager wages that are paid in sewing piecework for the factory.

  I fear there is no hope for us to leave Spitalfields. Death is all around us. It has marked my little family and threatens to overcome us every day. We are in a difficult situation, and what I have to tell you is hard to write.

  I have very bad news. The money I expected to send to you in this letter is gone. I spent it to pay for the doctor who saved Esther’s life. Perhaps it was the shock of learning of the terrible death of her parents and brother that caused the problem, but we will never know. Esther is recovering, yet again, from the loss of a baby. She is very weak, still, and the doctor said that it is only her strong faith that has saved her from dying in childbirth this time. This is the third one now. There will be no other children for us. I thank God our little Malka is healthy and strong. Just a little slip of a child, not yet ten, and already pressed to be a grown up. With Esther too weak to work, Malka has come to work in the factory every day. She pulls the basting threads from the sleeves. She is nimble with a needle and it will not be long before she is able to be a seamstress. She is smart and talented.

  Zev, what life is this for a child? No meadow to walk in. No fresh air to take for granted. If she survives to be a woman, will she be too worn from work to be chosen for marriage? With barely a penny to keep my family from starving, there will be no dowry for her. I am lost in my despair. There is no work that I can get that will allow me to care for my family properly, let alone find a way to pay for travel to Canada. As for the agency that helps Jews in Russia, it seems Esther was overly optimistic. We have yet to hear if they can be of help. So many are in need.

  I am so sorry, my brother, that I have failed you. I am tormented with guilt that I have let you down. It is my greatest regret that I have been unable to help you.

  I beseech you to abandon your plan to come to London. There is nothing for you here. Go instead, Zev, to Canada. Find our father and find work. This is how our family will come to be together again. Perhaps it is our destiny that you will be the one to make this miracle happen for all of us. I beg you to not stay in Russia. The news we hear whispered in the streets and in the synagogue does not suggest there is a future there for you. It will not be safe for you. The pogroms are increasing. I plead with you to pray for strength and be the guide who will bring the family to the New World.

  As for me, I have little hope for the future. I see the hollow look in little Malka’s eyes and I worry for her safety and well-being if something, God forbid, should happen to her mother or to me.

  Promise me, Zev, that you will protect my child if I am unable to do so.

  God be with you and Hannah, your children and our dear mother.

  Leib

  Hannah read the letter and carefully folded it before she gave it back to him.

  She shook her head slowly and teardrops rolled down her cheeks. Their hopes and dreams were being crushed by forces greater than they could fight.

  Zev wrapped her tightly in his embrace and it was then that she lost the battle to hold back the sobs. He held her while the pain poured from her. The thought of Esther near death frightened her to the core. In time her crying abated and she slid from fear into feeling sorry for herself and with that came shame and guilt. She couldn’t help it. The money that went to save Esther’s life was the money promised to help pay for their travel tickets in the spring. Money that would save her own family. Another few months and they would have made it out, and joined them in London.

  Hannah pulled away from Zev and brushed her tears away with the heels of her hands. She sniffed loudly and blinked hard against the wave of emotion that was closing in on her. She pulled her apron up to swipe at her face as she worked to settle herself. She forced a smile.

  “That’s enough crying. I am sorry for my tears, Zev,” she said as she steadied herself. Zev watched her and did not speak.

  They sat quietly for a time, feeling their way. The stillness gradually became filled with the wind in the trees, the rising song of the crickets, and the hurting sigh that seeped from Hannah. She could smell fall in the air as she watched the leaves scurry across the yard like mice. Mice running to hide, she thought, just like we are. Racing to hide, with nowhere to go that the czar would not find them.

  The evening sky dwindled into darkness and a gloom settled on them.

  Zev stroked his beard and chose his words carefully. “I must think carefully about what Leib has told us in the letter. For now, I think we are best to stay here. Perhaps things will get better, my dear one.”

  Hannah sat up straight and looked at him directly. “Zev. You must go to Canada.”

  “That is out of the question, Hannah, and I will not discuss it. What kind of man leaves his wife and children to fend for themselves?”

  “A good man, Zev. Your father did.”

  “He had my brother and me to look after my mother. It was different.” Zev saw the hurt in Hannah’s eyes and softened his tone. “But even with that, what is the result? I see the pain in my mother’s brave smile, the undying belief she will see him again. It is heartbreaking and I won’t put you through that. And now it is dangerous. Who would protect you? And her? And our children? No, I won’t leave you, Hannah. Never.”

  “Zev. Listen to me. We have a chance. Your brother is right. It is only you who can make this happen for all of us.”

  “No. Two women and three children on their own? Aaron is just a baby. I’m sorry. No.”

  “Zev, please. We have our savings, and we are young and capable.”

  “Hannah, I know you mean well, but I cannot be thousands of miles away worrying about you.”

  Hannah paused and looked down the path and they sat in silence for a while. When she turned back to him she took his hand and Zev could plainly see how her grief had changed her. The girl who had laughed so easily was now a woman who burned with strength and purpose. When she spoke it was calmly. There would be no more tears.

  “Zev, if we stay we may all die. We may all end up with our throats slit,” she said quietly. “It is only with you working for a decent wage that we will have a chance. Winnipeg is growing, your father said. They need workers like you. Young men with skills. It could be all right, Zev. We are young, not yet thirty. We can do this.”

  Zev took his wife gently by the shoulders and searched her eyes.

  “I am saying you should go, Zev. It is our only hope.”

  He held her close and rocked her in the moonlight, his mind racing with the possibilities.

  Zev could sense that the hard times and the violence were not going to stop. The simple fact was that the czar hated the Jews. Over several years now, it had become apparent the czar intended to enforce a solution to the “Jewish question”. One third would be converted to the Russian Orthodox Church, one third would leave the country and one third would be killed. Although no one knew with certainty, it was widely believed that the Russian government was the organizer of the pogroms, the attacks on the Jews.

  Over the following days, Zev sought the council of trusted friends and community leaders and very soon he was able to make his decision. They would leave Russia and strike out for Canada to join his father. It would be complicated and very possibly dangerous.

  There would be many miles to travel just to get out of Russia. Once across the border, there would be papers to secure, bribes to pay, and inspections to pass before the long journey to the New World began.

  Most painful to Zev was that they could not go together. They would have to be apart at lea
st a year and most probably longer, for him to earn the money for their tickets. A few days later, he and Hannah had a different conversation on the little bench.

  Hannah knew she would need every ounce of strength she could muster for this enormous step. And now he, too, saw that there was no other way to do it. He was going to have to say good-bye to his wife, as Baruch had said good-bye to his. Until they were reunited, Hannah would have to be the head of the family, earn a living for their children, and when the time came, she would have to lead the children and his mother to the new country. She would have to cross the language barriers, deal with the swindlers and hucksters they would encounter on their journey and, most importantly, she would have to take his place to keep their family safe during his absence. It was a monumental undertaking. Despite this, Hannah was confident she could handle everything she needed to do for the family. What she feared was the ocean voyage itself. She had never told her husband that the very thought of the open water terrified her. But this was no time for weakness.

  As Zev placed his hands on Hannah’s shoulders, they both felt a tremendous weight begin to lift. The decision was made.

  “First we will move west, to a little town not far across the border in Austria called Zalischyky. It will take us a few days to get there. It’s in the southern part of the region called Galicia, and it is also on the Dniester River like Zhvanets,” Zev told her. “It is a safe place where many Jews are living. I know of a rabbi there who will help us.

  “I will feel better if you are there, for it will be safer than here.”

  They decided to leave in three weeks. Once settled in Zalischyky, Zev’s skill as a carpenter would earn them enough to get them through the winter months. In the spring, he would go to Brody, where people who were leaving for America were known to gather and he would make the arrangements for his travel ticket and documents. He would then go to the port city of Hamburg to board a ship to Quebec City. And finally, in Canada, he would take a train to the middle of the continent, to Winnipeg.