The Sacrifice

by Adele Wiseman

  Although Ruth noticed that her father-in-law received the news in silence, she was too busy answering the questions of the boy to pay attention to the fact. Her mind was full of problems. After supper, when she had chased the child off to practice his violin lesson, Ruth busied herself, humming over the dishes, while she mentally went over the afternoon’s accomplishment.

  Abraham sat on at the table, raising his eyes every now and then to her back. They had decided, she and this Harry. He shifted in his chair and tried to concentrate on the few moments of pleasure that he allowed himself every evening, the child’s practice. Patiently he would follow the notes, starting over and over the difficult passages, wincing slightly and tackling again the bits that did not go right. Working with the boy, he did not have to think of anything else. But now other things intruded. Who was this Harry with whom she was on such intimate terms that he went with her to choose their new home? And where had he, Avrom, been when all this was going on? Had he nothing to say? She had come home, and it was all done and arranged for. Harry had spoken. Where was Avrom, who had led his family across the seas, planting in them once more the idea of life? Not only had his family been stripped from him, but his word was no longer good enough even to lead his daughter-in-law from one house to another. A strange Harry had suddenly appeared. What did they speak of when they were together? How close had their friendship grown if he now had the right to choose her home?

  “No!” Abraham banged his fist on the table – not too loudly, for he was conscious of the child practicing in the bedroom, but loudly enough for Ruth to turn from the sink. “I’ll not live in another man’s house!”

  “What do you mean?” Ruth turned back to the sink to turn off the water, and then turned again to him, picking up a towel at the same time.

  “You know what I mean – you know already.” Abraham waved his hand.

  “What do you mean, I know what you mean?” asked Ruth, smiling a little. “I’m not a mind-reader. What’s bothering you, Pa? I know you don’t like to move out of here. But understand we’ve got to for Moishe. We’ve got to think of his future.”

  “What do you care what I think of his future? What I say matters, then? With strangers you go out to plan his future.”

  “Pa,” said Ruth.

  “Pa, Pa. Why do you still call me Pa?” he interrupted. “He hasn’t got a father, your friend? Better you should practice to call him Pa.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ruth’s voice rose with the sharpness of surprise and incipient anger.

  “Shout at me, bring the child in,” said Abraham relentlessly. “He’ll have to know sooner or later. Why do you have to pretend? Why can’t you come right out and tell me? I’d rather be told now than thrown out afterward. Strangers have to tell me these things? You have no obligations to me. But don’t try to tell me that this Harry of yours will want your first father-in-law living with you, reminding him of what your true husband was, reminding him that he is a usurper. Because I don’t want it. I won’t stand for it. A man can be twisted so far. I’ll not be a stranger in my own house.”

  “What has Harry got to do with it?” Ruth was beginning to understand and made ready to explain patiently. “Pa, you’re mixed up. Harry is just a friend. He’s been very kind. He’s not interested in me personally. He knows I want to start a little business of my own, and he’s in a position to help me.”

  “First I’m mixed up, then I’ll be a little sick in the head, then I’ll be in my second childhood, then I’ll be in the Old Folks’ Home. It’s just the way Chaim says. But you don’t have to pretend. I’m not afraid of the Old Folks’ Home. Send me now. I don’t need any pretenses. Never in my life have I wanted pretenses. If I could just see a thing as it is and know what it is and where it is leading, I am content. But what of the child? Will you not even see how he feels? Do you think you can bribe him with a shop so that he will take just any substitute father?”

  “For heaven’s sake, shut up!” Ruth flung down the towel. “What are you talking about? Are you really going crazy? No, don’t say a word. He’s a married man, a man with three children. Do you understand? He’s kind to me. Isaac was my husband too, not only your son. I loved him too. I want to do everything I can for our child. So why are you picking on me?” Ruth’s voice had sunk to a tear-throttled whisper. From the bedroom the boy’s violin continued its tranquil notes. For a few moments there was silence, between them only the vibrating threads of the violin. Ruth had picked up the towel again and had turned her back to him.

  Abraham spoke again, his voice subdued, conciliatory. “A father has no choice in the new home, then?”

  “I’m sorry, Pa, I didn’t know you’d be annoyed. You work so hard; I thought I’d save you the trouble of wandering around with me, looking for places. This one isn’t taken yet. That’s why I mentioned it, so that you could come down and have a look with me.” Ruth felt the tension beginning to seep out of her. Thank God she had held her tongue, had controlled herself at least partially after her first explosion. God knows when he had said those things to her she had wanted to scream at the injustice, at the unreason. How could he accuse her of seeking romance? Why did he twist little things so? She was surprised at the violence of feeling that these little flare-ups could arouse in her. It was as though there were stored-up feelings in both of them that neither had fully acknowledged or explained to himself. Always they managed to cut off the quarrel just in time, before a certain externally imposed control would be lost and feelings and misunderstandings that had never really come to life would be sparked into being. I won’t be so nervous, she told herself, when we are finally settled.

  —

  “What did I tell you?” Laiah asked Abraham a bit teasingly. “Didn’t I tell you she would fall on her feet? You don’t really have to worry about her. She can take care of herself. Nowadays the women aren’t what they used to be in the old country. They like to go their own way. They don’t like to be interfered with. And they get what they want.”

  “I don’t know,” said Abraham. “It’s all so quick. Why is he in such a rush? Why is he just like that so good to her? He is letting her have so much credit. There was a time once when I would have thought it was a natural thing for one man to hold out his hand to another. Now I wonder. I ask myself, is there something behind it? I ask her too, but she pooh-poohs my questions. All this talk about the war and quotas. He is too sharp. But what is it? Ruth goes ahead, and I must stand on the side and watch.”

  “She’s young,” said Laiah. “It is natural for the young to rush. Sometimes I think that that is what’s wrong with us. That’s how we grow old. We grow afraid. We slow down. But life rushes on, and suddenly we find it’s too late; we have slowed down too much, and life has rushed past us altogether. That’s why I say live while you can. Ruth is young; she wants to live. She knows that while you are alive you must take advantage of life. You can’t deny her that. And she wouldn’t deny you, either.” Laiah smiled at him earnestly. “Don’t you agree?”

  Her words reminded him. That’s what he had intended to tell her. In his shame he had searched his memory to find out who had first planted the suspicion in his head that Ruth was planning to remarry. “My daughter-in-law,” he said pointedly, almost accusingly, “has no intention of getting married.” He wanted to add also that people shouldn’t talk when they didn’t know, but refrained.

  “To whom?” asked Laiah blandly.

  Abraham was momentarily disconcerted. Hadn’t she herself suggested it? “To anybody,” he insisted. “She doesn’t even think about it. She looked at me as though I was crazy.”

  Laiah was pensive a moment. “I’m not surprised,” she said finally, nodding. “From all you’ve told me I’ve guessed that she was that kind of woman. A woman like that isn’t going to think first of herself.”

  Abraham watched her tongue suspiciously as it moved slowly across her lower lip.

  “She will think first and foremost of her responsibilities,�
� Laiah continued feelingly. “I admire that kind of person. You, the child, are first in her mind. You are a lucky man, Avrom.”

  He felt an unpleasant sensation about his heart. She was too quick. He had told her; it had been a clear and simple fact, and now, with a twist, it was something else. “I am not a responsibility for anyone,” he said.

  “No, not for someone who loves you.” Laiah picked up the teapot and moved to the stove. “Someone who loves doesn’t feel it as a responsibility,” Laiah continued over her shoulder. “She is glad to cook and sew for you, and wash, and worry about you. I know.” Laiah moved back to the table with the pot refilled, and sat down. “If I had someone, someone that I loved, I would gladly do all those things for him and more. I would be a companion to him. Companionship is a thing that counts – you want to go to the same places and do the same things. Of course” – Laiah smiled and was aware of an irregular movement in her heart as she added – “you have to be closer to the same age for that.”

  “She thinks of the child. She wants to give him everything,” he said. “It’s not me. I won’t hold her back.”

  Laiah nodded. “I know you’re not selfish. Far from it. You would deny yourself because you would be thinking always of someone else. Ruth is probably that way too. And yet it’s funny. People can deny themselves for each other’s sakes and end up, with the best of motives, standing in each other’s way. Sometimes it’s kinder to be selfish. Not that I don’t admire her, and you. Perhaps my whole life might have been different if I’d fallen among good people earlier. Now, frankly, it’s something I long for. I’m sick of jealous tongues and nothing but insult from people for whom I’ve done nothing but good.”

  Was this how the world saw him, as standing in Ruth’s way? He didn’t want Ruth to deny herself for him. That was not even the question. They would not call him a duty, a responsibility, if they knew how life surged in him still.

  “You would think” – he forced himself to attend to Laiah’s words – “after you’ve known a person more than twenty-five years, and have been good friends all that time, that you could really rely on that person as a friend, wouldn’t you? Know Polsky?” Laiah snorted. “And how I know Polsky. Where would Polsky be now if I hadn’t known him? When others were throwing their money away buying stocks, shares, pieces of paper, I said to him, ‘Don’t be a fool!’ Other ways, too, I helped him. What do you see now – Polsky the big businessman? I could tell you. Do you think a man with a full head himself could have passed on such a coconut to Hymie? And what was it all for, my friendship? Why did I give up – You’ll never know what I gave up. Just so that now his pants are tight over his belly button he should remind me when he sees me winning a few cents in a game of cards that I have a bill owing in the butcher shop? In front of everybody, and not just once. Once it’s a joke, all right, ha-ha. Once, twice, and then again. Tell me in the butcher shop if you have a complaint. But no, the big sport waits until I’m enjoying myself, until I’m winning, and then he starts to talk. What have the cards to do with the meat? So I said to myself, That’s enough! I’m not such a welcome guest as I once was. I can do without them too.”

  Her bill. It was a good thing that she had reminded him. But how to speak now? He stood up. “Your bill –” he began resolutely.

  Laiah flowed to her feet. “Yes,” she said, “can you imagine? And you wonder why I’m so bitter against them. Grobionim. But I can handle them yet. I can imagine that you’ve had to swallow plenty too, in the years you’ve been with them. I’ll tell you, if you ever have any trouble with them, just let me know. There are still a few things I can whisper in his ear. And he’ll listen, you can believe me. No, no, Avrom, I’m serious. You don’t have to be shy with me.”

  Just pay something on your bill. He wanted to say it but after what she had said the words wouldn’t come out, not so bluntly. If she paid him something there would be no whining from Hymie. He didn’t want her to whisper anything to Polsky. What was he that he should have to come to her to help him with his job? Laiah was smiling at him quizzically. He gathered up his strength. “You won’t pay anything now on your bill?” It was out.

  “My bill? Of course,” said Laiah. She went to get her purse.

  He sighed with relief.

  “Tell me, Avrom,” said Laiah as he marked her payment on the bill. “You hesitated to ask me, didn’t you, after what I said? You mistook my meaning. It’s not the paying that I objected to, although I think that for me Polsky can afford to wait a little. It’s the time he picked to ask, and the way he did it. You needn’t have felt embarrassed. With me you can always speak straight out, as I do with you.

  “You see,” she continued as he didn’t answer, embarrassed, “I know people talk. They say I don’t pay my bills. I have suffered from the jealousy of slanderers all my life. But you can see it’s not so bad. I’m not so hard to deal with.”

  It was true. What did they want from her? “I don’t listen to slander,” he said.

  “Avrom.” Laiah moved with him toward the door and rested her hand gently on his arm as he stopped in front of it. “We’ve gotten to be good friends, haven’t we, in the last little while? I at least have felt toward you as to a friend. When my heart was full sometimes I’ve felt I could let it out to you. It’s good to know that there is someone to listen, someone I can call on. But then I think, can I really call on you? When do I see you? When you have to deliver an order. Is this our friendship? No. Then I think, Well, perhaps it’s just a one-sided thing. I am just imagining that we are getting to know each other! But you too have told me things, have discussed things with me, haven’t you?”

  Abraham nodded. It was true that they had talked gradually more and more. It surprised him to realize it. In her earnestness Laiah was leaning forward, practically against him. He breathed in deeply, through his nose, of her perfume. His nose twitched slightly at the impact. He could distinguish the grains of powder on her face.

  “Then we are friends! Avrom, even if there is no order for you to deliver, couldn’t you find time to drop up sometimes for a few minutes? I haven’t that many people I can call friends, and you haven’t that many friends either, that we should act as though we were strangers, indifferent to each other. Sometimes in an evening you could drop around. We could talk or play a game of casino. We’re not so old yet that we can’t find ways to enjoy ourselves.”

  She waited for him to answer, while he, aware of the concrete reality of her presence, a presence he could not quite place in the scheme of his life, tried to weigh her words. “You are not so old,” he said finally with a formal politeness that evaded direct recognition of what she had suggested.

  Laiah laughed her throaty laugh. “You have never paid me a compliment before. I have always thought that you felt I was too – well, too bright, too showy even. Perhaps I was. Oh, there are reasons. You dress, you show a happy face sometimes, when inside…”

  It embarrassed him that she had been aware of his impression of her. He could not help the suspicion which came upon him every now and then that she was more than she pretended.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Laiah said as an afterthought, her hand restrainingly on his arm, for his hand was already on the doorknob. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed what a little scandal-maker my neighbor is across the hall. She thinks that just because we share a toilet she has to know everything else I do. Every time my doorbell rings she’s there at her door, spying on me – why, I don’t know. Why should you have her snooping around when you come? But we can fix that. Just a minute.” Laiah fished in her handbag. “I have an extra key to the apartment. Here, you take it. No, no, take it, take it. Even when you’re delivering you can come right in instead of having to wait outside. Sometimes I’m not at home. Why should you have to make two trips up those stairs? And why should she know everybody that comes to see me? Why should all the gossips in the house know? Go go.” Laiah slipped the key into his pocket and practically pushed him out the door.

&nbs
p; Listening to his steps receding down the stairs, Laiah wondered if with the key she had managed to plant an idea. Well, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t her very last hope. She could still find one or two who would be only too glad to befriend her. But she could not deny that this was different, though it irritated her that she had begun to take it so seriously. Well, why shouldn’t she take it seriously? She would have to invite Jenny for supper again to get rid of some of the meat. It was exasperating to have to make an order at the butcher shop every time she wanted company. Better he should think of a use for the key.

  —

  That Laiah. She talked of friendship, like a friend, as though she cared. Why? Thinking about her as he walked down the street, he was momentarily aware of her presence, of the heavy scent, the mobile lips that moved even when she wasn’t speaking, of the generous volume of soft live flesh. He remembered the key that she had slipped into his pocket…

  Ha! said Isaac. Chaim should only hear about this!

  What should he hear? When should he hear? Avrom protested, feeling himself blush deeply. You think it’s nice to tease your father?

  I’m teasing you, then? Isaac asked. I can’t even make a comment? My father becomes a keeper of the keys, and I mustn’t even congratulate him!