He is weak from lack of nourishment and the doctor is called and he is given chicken soup and crustless bread and put straight to bed. The doctor recommends that David stay in bed for a week until he regains his strength. But the following morning at half-past six he is up and seated at his usual place at the breakfast table beside his grandson. Since the day he has been able to sit up in a high chair Joshua has taken his breakfast alone with his grandfather.
‘Grandpa, are you better now? Why did you break everything? the child asks ingenuously.
‘Joshua, my boy, we have lost everything, the schwartzer has taken everything, your grandfather has let you down,’ David tells his grandson.
‘No, we haven’t, Grandpa, I’ve still got the little wisdoms.’ Joshua grins and shrugs. ‘So when I grow up I’ll be rich, like you said!’ The small boy laughs. ‘I’ll give it all back to you, Grandpa.’
‘Rich again? Wisdoms? So much for wisdoms! I am too old and you are too young. That’s the only wisdoms we’ve got!’ David brings his hands up to hold his cheeks. ‘Oh my God, what shall I do?’
Joshua, seeing his grandfather starting to get upset again, starts to talk. ‘Never borrow more than the value of your least important assets,’ he declares.
David can’t believe his ears. ‘And I told you this? I should be ashamed, I don’t listen to myself!’ he sobs.
Joshua is too young to be aware of the irony of the words he’s just recited and begins again. ‘When you hire a manager ask him how much he wants, it will always be less than you expect to pay. Then pay him more than he expects in return for owning him body and soul.’ Joshua continues, ‘Never hire a Jew in case he turns out to be smarter than you or you’ve married into his family. Roman Catholics have too many children which drives the breadwinner to drink and a drunk can never be trusted to give you a full day’s work. Never do business with a handshake, a good contract doesn’t have a faulty memory. The eyes in the back of your head must be constantly on the lookout for the knife aimed between your shoulder blades. Hearsay and memory are bad witnesses in a court of law, always write everything down and, if possible, have it signed by the person with whom you are doing business or otherwise a reliable witness.’ The small boy stops. ‘Shall I go on, Grandpa?’
‘Impossible! Impossible! You’ve learned it all!’ David cries, clapping his hands together, real tears now rolling down his cheeks, though he himself doesn’t know whether they are from joy at the boy’s cupidity or despair at his own impoverished situation.
However, Joshua is enjoying the game and resumes talking. ‘If an employee is guilty of doing something wrong in the past, never allow him to forget it in the future. An eye for an eye is what it says in the Bible, but consider a moment, two eyes for an eye, when your enemy is in the dark, he can’t hurt you. A bribe only becomes poor business judgment when it doesn’t work. On the other hand, a bribe is only a bribe when it’s done by somebody else, when you employ it, it is a gratuity in return for something you want. In business a man is always guilty before being proved innocent. Remember, greed is the most important motivation in the human race, forget this and you are out of business quick smart. Revenge is a dish best eaten cold. Never trust anyone except only maybe your mother and even her, think twice and only act the third time, if she is Jewish, the fourth!’ David realises that years of breakfast maxims have paid off, the child has learned them as if by rote.
‘Enough, enough already,’ David cries. ‘You are breaking my heart, Joshua!’
Almost from the moment Joshua was born these maxims, and a thousand like them, have filled the intellectual space in the child’s mind. David’s idea has always been that when his grandson is an adult and forced to make business decisions on his own he will have equipped him with an aphorism for every conceivable situation he might have to face.
Whenever David taught his grandson a new one, he would always end by saying, ‘Joshua, my boy, trust nobody except your dog, Spot.’ And now, barely stifling his sobs, he repeats the homily and waits for Joshua to complete it.
The child, ever eager to please his grandfather, laughs and claps his hands. ‘But always leave a flea under his collar so Spot knows who’s the boss!’
It is at this point that Abraham enters the dining room. ‘Excuse me, Father, but it is of the utmost importance that I see you immediately.’
David thinks for a moment to send him away, Joshua giving him the first moments of enjoyment since the bank collapsed. Besides it is accepted that his time with his grandchild at breakfast may not be interrupted. But things have changed lately and Abraham’s look of concern makes him hold his temper.
‘What is it?’ David asks, irritated.
‘We have a visitor.’
‘A visitor? But it is not yet seven o’clock in the morning, tell him to bugger off, come back in two hours.’
‘I think you should come, Father, he waits in my study.’
‘He, who, why, never mind!’ David shouts, slamming his hand down hard onto the surface of the table, but then he rises from his seat and turns to Joshua. ‘You’re a good boy, Joshua, you’ve made me proud.
‘Who is it?’ he now asks Abraham.
Abraham is reluctant to tell his father, afraid that David will not accompany him to his study. ‘Father, it is best you see for yourself.’
They reach his study door and David, entering first, very nearly faints at the sight of Hawk seated on the ottoman couch. ‘Jesus!’ he cries, physically jumping backwards at the sight of the giant black man. ‘What the devil!’
Hawk rises, towering over the diminutive David Solomon. ‘I hoped we might have a few words, David,’ he says, extending his hand, though not expecting it will be taken.
He is not disappointed and his hand is ignored. ‘A few words!’ David shouts. ‘I’ll give you two. Fuck off!’
Hawk chuckles. ‘No less than I expected, I see you’ve inherited your mother’s charm.’
David ignores Hawk and turns to Abraham. ‘What does the nigger want? My blood? Come to gloat, ’as he? Well, you tell the bloody cannibal we’ll have no further truck with his sort, we may be poor but we don’t ’ave to join him in the gutter!’
‘Father, Mr Solomon has a business proposition, one I think may be to our advantage.’
‘I’d like to see that when it’s got its jodhpurs on!’ David sneers. ‘What’s he want to do, buy the bleedin’ ’ouse? He’s got everything else!’
‘I already own your house,’ Hawk says quietly.
‘Please sit, Father.’ Abraham leads David to a chair and then gently pushes down on his shoulders to force him into the leather club chair.
David is fully dressed except that he still wears his bedroom slippers with no hose. He slumps in the deep chair with his chin tucked into his chest, looking directly into his own lap. ‘Well, go on, get on with it, nigger!’
‘I must remind you, David, that my mother, like yours, was a Jew, that makes me a Jew as well, perhaps a nigger Jew, but still a Jew.’
‘And she was also a whore!’ David snarls.
‘But not a whore mistress, like yours was,’ Hawk replies, then smiles. ‘I don’t expect you to be happy at the thought of meeting me, but I had hoped that, after all these many years, our next meeting might be cordial, albeit not one filled with mutual admiration.’ Hawk turns to look at Abraham. ‘I’m pleased to say your son is not similarly discourteous. Also, I apologise that I have called on you at such an early hour and without prior notice, but I have business of some urgency to discuss which I believe will turn out to be altogether to your advantage. Perhaps a better outcome than the last time we met.’
David is suddenly transported in his mind to the dark, musty pantry in London where together he and the fifteen-year-old Hawk had opened the safe only to find it was empty but for an envelope addressed to himself. Inside was a gold ring set with a handsome ruby and a note in Ikey’s handwriting. Remember, always leave a little salt on the bread. The remainder of the fortune had disap
peared and, while it has never been traced, David knows with the utmost certainty that somehow Mary Abacus and her nigger boy had contrived to open the safe and steal what he correctly believes belonged to his family.
Now the nigger has beaten him again, humiliated him a second time beyond any possible endurance. Hawk destroyed his prospects as a young man and now he has done so again at the end of his life. He has effectively rendered his entire existence worthless.
‘Father, Mr Solomon has a proposition to put to us,’ Abraham repeats, ‘I think we should hear him out.’
‘See him out, more like,’ David snarls. ‘G’arn, fuck off, Hawk Solomon!’
Hawk sighs and removes his half-hunter from his weskit pocket, unclips it from its fob chain and clicks it open. ‘You have five minutes to save your company and your arse, David Solomon,’ he says quietly. ‘If after that you are not willing to hear me out I shall leave you. I had no hand in bringing your destruction about and take no pleasure in it, but I will not again lift a finger to help you.’ He removes the watch from its chain and places it on the small table beside the couch. ‘Five minutes, gentlemen, and then I’m off to mind my own business.’
A silence follows that must have continued for a good three and a half minutes. Abraham keeps glancing at the fob watch, believing he can hear it ticking away the seconds, though he is too far from it for this to be possible. Another half a minute goes by and unable to contain himself any further he calls, ‘Father!’
With less than thirty seconds to go David, restraining his anger, says, ‘G’arn then, get on with it, I ’aven’t got all bloody day!’
Hawk returns the watch to its chain and restores it into his fob pocket then proceeds to outline the plan he has for the two companies. After he has completed his explanation, he emphasises that David and Abraham would be left to run their own company, provided always it meets with its expected profits and losses and that all major acquisitions are subject to verification from the chairman of the board of the holding company, Solomon & Teekleman.
‘That’s you! You the board?’ David rasps.
‘Ah, yes, a board? Yes, well, I daresay we shall have a board, the two of you, my niece Mrs Teekleman and myself, but I shall make the decisions on the simple basis that I control the most shares.’ Hawk smiles. ‘We shall, of course, discuss whatever is in contention and I shall greatly value your opinions, but the decisions will always be made on the basis of share majorities, whoever might in the future control the majority of the shares will be chairman of the company.’ Hawk is thinking that he must keep young Joshua from ever taking over the new holding company.
‘Ha, you will be the boss!’ David exclaims. ‘Just as I thought.’
‘Does that surprise you?’ Hawk asks him, but David merely grunts, ‘And a woman, another damned woman in the picture!’
‘You will find this one less trouble than the last,’ Hawk says.
‘Why, Mr Solomon? Why have you done this absurd and unnecessary act of generosity?’ Abraham now asks.
‘Ah, it is a long story, Abraham, and I think no longer worth the telling. Let it suffice to say that I do not believe it either absurd or unnecessary. I am most impressed with the manner you and your father have built Solomon & Co. and honestly believe, while you extended your credit with the bank to breaking point, you did not deserve to lose all you have worked so hard to achieve. Quite simply the Potato Factory hopes to expand its interest into the colony of Victoria and eventually throughout Australia, but frankly we lack the top management to do so. I admit I cannot do it by myself. It would seem stupid in the extreme to lose two excellent businessmen who understand the corporation they run simply because of some old enmity between our families. If we cannot be friends then let us be the best of business partners. I assure you, as your chairman, I shall always try to be fair in my decisions and hear you out. But, if you attempt to cheat me, you will find the outcome an unhappy one for yourselves.’
David suddenly looks up and glares at Hawk. ‘It’s because of the safe, ain’t it? The money you and Mary Abacus stole from our family?’
Hawk sighs and for a moment wears an expression of acute exasperation. He knows himself to be as good an actor as David Solomon and so he points to the ruby and gold ring on David’s middle finger. ‘The only thing I know to come for certain from that safe you are wearing on your finger.’ He turns to David’s son who has remained standing throughout. ‘Well, what say you, Abraham?’
There is a moment’s silence when Abraham looks at his father who has always dominated him. He brings his fist up to his mouth and clears his throat. With his heart racing he looks directly at Hawk, ‘I accept, sir, your terms are most generous, most equitable indeed.’
‘Accept? What? Without me?’ David can’t believe his ears.
‘Yes, Father.’
‘Jesus! Me own flesh and blood!’
‘Well, that’s it then,’ Hawk says, nodding towards the seated David. ‘I daresay we’ll manage quite well without you, David.’
Abraham looks quickly at Hawk. ‘No, no, wait a moment, please!’ He addresses David, ‘Father, be sensible, for God’s sake!’
David does not reply, his eyes directed to his kneecaps. Abraham can see that he is near weeping from frustration and anger. While his commonsense has forced him to make a final appeal to his father to accept Hawk’s offer, it also gives him a curious satisfaction to see his father with his back so completely against the wall.
David Solomon has always run roughshod over any opposition including Abraham’s own cautionary advice, his sheer aggression, bluff and stubbornness often winning the day, when caution would have served him better in the long run. Now this giant black man has him all tied up in knots. For once the bully has met his match and Abraham knows it to be sinful to feel elated at his father’s downfall, but he knows that he will always cherish this moment while never again being able to admit it, even to himself.
Abraham Solomon has, of course, heard of the existence of Hawk Solomon, but always as some dark demon, an evil force castigated with the very breath that carries his name. He had no idea that Hawk was Jewish, for David had always portrayed him as the most primitive of savages. Now this huge black man is not only extending an olive branch to his family but also allowing them to recover from disaster, even to prosper again and, what’s more, allowing him to personally regain his pride. For the second time in Abraham’s life, he has opposed his father.
On the first occasion it concerned Elizabeth, Abraham’s sad, disappointed and mostly inebriated wife. When Abraham decided to bring Elizabeth home to meet his sickly mother, half expecting her disapproval, but hoping that by convincing her of his happiness she would understand his desire to marry a gentile, he went to see his father.
Elizabeth came with impeccable credentials except for the most important one of all, she was not Jewish. She was the daughter of the third daughter of an impoverished English lord who had married a wealthy and well-connected Melbourne financier, who boasted of being a ‘Fitz’, the illegitimate offspring of royalty at some time in aeons past. Her father had subsequently lost all his money speculating in gold shares on the stock market, but because of his wife’s lineage and his own pretensions, the family had maintained its social status among Melbourne’s better bred while, at the same time, living in relative poverty.
Simply stating that she was a gentile and then presenting Elizabeth’s credentials to his father he waited, expecting the worst, but for once in his life he was prepared to stand up to him. To his astonishment, David Solomon had approved of the match after asking a single question, ‘Is she a Roman Catholic?’
When told she wasn’t, but Church of England he’d seemed unusually enthusiastic. ‘Splendid, m’boy, a bit of goy blood can do us no harm whatsoever.’ In what was a rare show of affection he’d clapped his son on the back and asked, ‘Has she got big tits?’
Not answering, but nevertheless encouraged by his father’s approval, the following day Abraham bro
ught his intended home. Leaving Elizabeth to wait in the conservatory he’d entered his mother’s bed chamber.
To Abraham’s surprise David was seated beside his wife’s bed when he entered. This came as somewhat of a shock to him as David’s habit was to spend no more than a few moments at her bedside after he’d taken breakfast and when he returned at the end of the day from his office in Bourke Street. Rebecca referred to these visits as ‘Papa’s passion! A peck in the air, a burp, a fart and always the same greeting, “Ow yer going? Orright? Good! Eat something. Too-ra-loo!” ’ He would have entered the bed chamber, reached her bed, pecked the air above her head, turned around, spoken, farted, burped and been back out the door before she’d managed a single word in reply.
It was unusual therefore to see David at his wife’s bedside in the middle of the afternoon. Abraham had expected to speak to his mother alone and, with the presence of his father, who he assumed must have unexpectedly and untypically come to lend his support, his feelings were mixed. The previous day in David’s office he had not talked of loving Elizabeth, nor even of feeling an affection for her, but merely that he had met a girl he liked, a Christian who came from a decent family and he hoped to gain David’s blessing to marry her. ‘Love’ was not a word he knew to use in front of his father, but it was his only hope of success when talking with his mother. Abraham had carefully practised the words he would say to her, but now with his father present, he was afraid they might sound mawkish and pathetic whereupon David wouldn’t hesitate to mock him and to make a fool of him in front of his mother. Nevertheless, not one for extemporaneous invention, Abraham decided to plunge ahead with his original plea for her blessing.
‘Mama, I have brought someone home to meet you,’ he announced shyly, then clearing his throat added, ‘Someone I love with all my heart and who it is my dearest wish to marry. Will you give me your blessing, for I cannot do without it, or her in my life?’
Rebecca clapped her hands, delighted at her son’s news. ‘Oh, Abie, what wonderful news!’ She turned to David. ‘To think, all the nice girls I’ve found for him, the boychick finds one for himself! Her name, if you please?’
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