No Time for Tears

by Cynthia Freeman

  “In Germany.”

  “Why Germany? That’s not exactly the jewel center of the world.”

  Chavala closed her thoughts. At least this was good practice, a sort of dress rehearsal for what she’d soon be going through … “It’s not the jewel center of the world, you’re absolutely right about that … but unfortunately, Moishe, after the war all the Jews that came from Eastern Europe and went to Germany came only with what they could carry. And what did they carry? The same thing we carried when we left Russia, a few diamonds—” she took another drink of schnapps “—well, multiplied by what we had, imagine how the pawnshops there must be bulging with jewelry. Don’t you realize, Moishe, with American dollars you can buy a fortune? The Germans are carrying their money around in a wheelbarrow to buy a loaf of bread. That’s what the mark is worth. There’s a lot of money to be made, Moishe, and although life is very sad, one person’s misfortune can become another’s opportunity … Listen, Moishe, to say I’m happy, you know I’m not. But we didn’t create it, we didn’t make the world what it is, but we do have to make a living. For all of us. And that’s why I’m going to Europe.”

  When she’d finished, the story sounded so convincing, she just might investigate the German situation … yes, she just might …

  “And what’s the duty on all this going to cost?” Moishe said.

  The magic word “duty” meant going through customs. For the moment, she forgot about the pawnshops in Berlin. With a grand effort to reassume her composure she quickly answered, “First of all, there is no duty on anything over a hundred years old” … a good guess … “and besides, what I’ll be buying it for, it’ll be a pittance. I mean, it’s to develop a business. America likes that I’m being like an American …”

  Moishe decided not to press, in spite of his misgivings. For whatever they were worth, Chavala at least seemed to have all the answers. “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Well, dear sister, I can only say go with mazel, and come home safely. What time does your ship sail?”

  She really swallowed hard. “At midnight.”

  “So late? Well, the family will see you off anyway—”

  “At twelve o’clock midnight? … don’t be silly. You think I’m going to wake up Joshua to see me off? Absolutely not! Besides, for this family there’ve been enough hellos and good-byes from docks. It’s very sweet of you, Moishe darling, and I do appreciate it but somehow I don’t feel in the mood for more long tearful good-byes … When I come home we’ll have a reunion.” She smiled brightly.

  Departure day she rented a room in a downtown hotel, she didn’t even notice the name. Taking shears out of her bag, she cut her hair very short. After she dressed that evening, complete with the sheitel and the small round pillow, she examined herself in the mirror. So, Chavala … you’re a mother and a wife, and a smuggler. Mazel tov. Somehow, though, she managed a secret smile, then quickly put it away.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Moses Epstein” (better known as Chavala Landau and Benny Bernstein) shared separate bunks. The pious Mr. Moses Epstein was to stay away from any of the young ladies aboard and never to leave the stateroom without his Bible.

  He managed to do that, and the entire week’s voyage was a smooth one in every way. People tended to leave the Epsteins alone—they were hardly a gay couple—and the ocean cooperated by not getting out of order and upsetting Chavala’s stomach.

  A more incongruous, a more outlandish-looking pair of smugglers had never, Chavala was sure, arrived in the stately city of Amsterdam. After checking into a kosher hotel in the Jewish section, they proceeded to the carefully memorized address they had been given.

  All the way across the Atlantic Chavala had been in terror of what was to happen next … the actual acquiring of the “goods,” as they were referred to. She’d pictured terrible men and floozy women … guns, knives, who knew what … and then in the middle of the transaction police whistles, handcuffs, jail and the firing squad. It didn’t happen. It all went so smoothly that she was a little let down. The men were polite, if close-mouthed. No floozies. The packets were ready, the vouchers and money quickly exchanged. By noon Chavala and Benny behind locked hotel-room doors were carefully arranging the contraband. The narrow bands around the tallisim were taken apart, filled, carefully sewn back. Inside of Chavala’s sheitel some twenty carats were taped. The largest amount was secured in the heel of Benny’s five-inch platform shoe. All necessary items were put into the paper valises they’d carried from the shores of Manhattan. They would not risk staying; it was unwise even for the night. As they were about to leave, Chavala could no longer hold back the idea she’d had since they’d left New York … “Benny, let’s find but how far it is from here to Germany—”

  “Germany?” He all but screamed. “I want to get out of here and get this whole business over with. I don’t know whether you know it or not, but I haven’t slept a night. And you may notice that my clothes are practically falling off of me—”

  “I know, Benny, I know, and what can I say? It’s you who’ve been my greatest jewel through this whole nerve-wracking ordeal. But you see, dear Benny, I have a sister living in Germany that I haven’t seen in a very long, long time, and to be this close and not see her … well, it would be something I’d never forgive myself for … Do you think, for my sake, you could eat a little more?”

  Happy, he wasn’t, but her words did get through to him. A family was a family, which was what he’d never had, except for the landsman. “All right, all right … we’ll go find out how far it is …”

  To their surprise, they didn’t need a ship—all those canals, all the water in Amsterdam somehow suggested the sea and ships. Actually, there was a regular train service between Amsterdam and Berlin.

  When they arrived in the strange city, they stood for several minutes, clinging to their suitcases, watching the crowd scurrying in all different directions. To keep up their masquerade, their choice of hotels would once again have to be in a Jewish section. But where was that? After searching the platform, asking questions in Yiddish, English and variations thereof, they found a bearded Jewish peddler and Chavala asked him in Yiddish where they might stay. He happily told them how to get to the eastern part of Berlin, where they would find not only Chasidim like themselves but restaurants that prominently displayed Stars of David, signifying that the food was strictly kosher. Also, they should have no problem getting a room….

  Chavala, of course, felt as though every policeman they passed on the street knew that sewn inside her wig were diamonds, and whenever she looked … in spite of herself … at Benny’s five-inch heel she was sure she lost another pound to the ten pounds she’d already worried off … she hadn’t been able to eat or sleep properly during the past weeks, she’d had nightmares that the gendarmes would break down the door and find this holy couple’s business was illicit gems instead of the word of God. The rest of her life, she’d spend it doing penance in some European jail … Each night she’d wake up soaked in perspiration, and in those moments she just knew her soul would burn in hell. Yes, true, Jews didn’t believe in purgatory, but she was a Jew that knew it was there, never mind what you called it … if this wasn’t a living hell, what the hell was it…?

  Finally they did manage to find a guesthouse, faded and crumbling, on Dragonerstrasse. When at long last she’d locked the door, she lay down and Benny, feeling none too good himself, went to the adjacent bedroom and decided to do the same.

  As she lay there, she decided that for all its interesting challenges, she really didn’t have the temperament for this jewel-smuggling business. Added to that rather belated insight was the thought that maybe Sheine hadn’t gone to the post office to pick up the message she’d sent.

  For three days she lived in her anxiety, never leaving the room, Benny dutifully fetching food she couldn’t eat. By now she’d almost given up hope that Sheine had received her message and debated with herself about taking the risk of calling the
Hausman residence. Why not? She could merely ask, “May I speak to Mrs. Gunter Hausman?” … “Who’s calling?” … “The milliner, her hat is ready.” She’d try it … she had to do something or go out of her mind altogether.

  Handbag over her arm, she tapped on Benny’s door, gently opened it. “Don’t leave the room, Benny, I have to try and see if I can get in touch with my sister by phone.”

  Benny laughed. “You think you can trust me with the merchandise while you’re away?”

  Chavala smiled weakly. “Any friend of the landsman’s is a friend of mine,” she said, and shut his door.

  When she was about to leave her room there was a knock on the door. Her stomach turned over. Sure, it had all been too easy up to now, the righteous wrath of God had fallen down on her head, right where it belonged. Who could get away with such a thing? … It was the police coming to take her away … “Who is it?” A little girl’s voice she barely recognized as her own.

  “Me … Sheine …”

  Quickly she opened the door, hugged Sheine to her in happiness and relief. When the pleasurable shock of seeing one another had subsided, the two scrutinized one another. Sheine was chic and blond. Chavala looked like she had just arrived from Pinsk.

  Sheine asked, “Why are you dressed like this?”

  “Well, darling, it’s a long story. The truth is it’s so silly I don’t know where to begin. You see, there’s a lot of jewelry to be bought here in East Berlin … because of the refugees … it’s like when mama had the earrings. You know what I mean? Well, anyway, they like to sell to their own. If I was dressed up they would think—” She couldn’t go on with his travesty. “Why should I lie to you … you’re my sister … but no one else knows. No one. The truth is, Sheine, I’m doing something very bad. I came to Europe to buy diamonds on the black market…”

  Sheine, not surprisingly, took a few moments to absorb this, not to mention its consequences … “You mean … you’re smuggling jewels into—”

  “That’s what I’m doing. Aren’t I terrible? Don’t answer that.”

  “But why?” Sheine shook her head. “You were making such a good living … that’s what you wrote in your letter—”

  “I am … but not enough. Not enough at all. Oh yes, you heard from Dvora, but she didn’t tell you how bad things have been for her … It took money, a great deal of it, with the baby being sick, and what you don’t know is … I’m sorry to say to you … poor Lazarus was killed and Raizel had nothing. Chia goes to college … oh, did I tell you? She’s going to get married, you know Moishe already is. What can I say? I could work myself up to poverty in one generation.”

  “And if you get caught? Have you thought of that?”

  “Of course I’ve thought about it, that’s all I’ve done since I started this whole meshuggene mishegoss. Why do you think I look like an old lady of ninety? I’m sure that under the sheitel is plenty of white hair.”

  “I really don’t know what to say—”

  “Neither do I, except that if I have the mazel to get away with this it will be the last time, take my word … Now enough about me. How are you, Sheine?”

  She hesitated for a moment, then: “Pride is a foolish thing, Chavala, and in the beginning of my marriage I didn’t want you to know how unhappy I really was, so I made the letters sound like life was all sunshine and roses … but since we’re sisters and you’ve been so honest with me … Well, in the beginning, when I first arrived in Berlin, I had a very difficult time. Being a secret Jew and living with an anti-Semitic mother-in-law almost gave me a nervous breakdown. Maybe it did. Anyway, with Gunter’s support and the help of a psychiatrist, I’m able to live with the deception … You see, Chavala, I’ve learned that life has its price, and we have to pay for our sins. I’ve paid for mine.” She said it simply, directly. No tears or wringing of hands.

  “I wish you had told me sooner, how terrible it must have been for you—”

  “It war. But it’s better now. Not perfect. Better. I’ve learned to put things in their proper place. At least I think I have. Anyway, something wonderful has happened. I’m expecting a child.”

  “Oh, Sheine, I’m so happy for you.”

  “And what a joy it is to be sitting here telling the news to you.”

  “And your husband? How does he feel about it?”

  “Gunter is beside himself … I suppose my nature is a little bit like mama’s when it comes to having children, we’d almost resigned ourselves to being childless at first. But it seems miracles do happen.”

  Miracles indeed, Chavala thought … “When are you expecting?”

  “In eight months.” She laughed rather bitterly. “At least I seem to have redeemed myself in my mother-in-law’s eyes. Maybe she’s forgiven Gunter for marrying beneath himself—”

  “Beneath himself? Some nerve—”

  “I was born Sheine Rabinsky, and Sheine Rabinsky didn’t exactly fit her Germanic ideal, wasn’t one of the fair frauleins she’d hoped Gunter would marry and make babies with.”

  Chavala looked at Sheine more closely now. “Does all that explain your blond hair?”

  “Partly. And at least I don’t stand out like a sore thumb in the blond world we move in. Besides, what does it matter? I made my choice … I’ll make the best of it … Now, tell me about the new baby, and Reuven … and Dovid …”

  “The new baby’s not so little anymore. Joshua’s four, and Reuven’s not too pleased with me for not living in Palestine. I can’t say I entirely blame him, and I do miss him terribly … As for Dovid, he’s very involved with politics, with the creation of a homeland. He’s quite a man … as you well remember, Sheine.”

  From the sound of Chavala’s voice Sheine knew that much was left unsaid. Just as she had kept to herself for so long her early passion for Dovid. Still, she asked, “How are things between you?”

  “I’m not sure. Can we let it go at that for the moment?” She just couldn’t bear thinking the unthinkable about Dovid and another woman, let alone talk about it. Not even with Sheine… maybe especially not with Sheine…

  The shadows of dusk shone through the dingy lace curtains. The hours had fled too soon. Today’s reunion had been so rich that Sheine almost was able to forget that they weren’t back in that little village south of Odessa, sitting around mama’s kitchen table drinking tea the way they’d done when they were children …

  But now the time had come to leave the past. Getting up, she looked closely at Chavala, then said, “Chavala, seeing you is the greatest gift you could have given me, and if ever there were times in our lives when we were not close, well, I regret that. This has for me more than made up for it. I love you, and I pray that everything you want happens. You deserve it. Please tell the others to keep in touch. Now I’ll miss you all more than ever…”

  The next day Mr. and Mrs. Moses Epstein, their suitcases filled with prayer books and religious objects, took the train to Hamburg, where they immediately boarded a ship bound for New York City. Traveling on U.S. passports, they had no trouble with customs. That prospect was yet to come on the other side of the ocean. Chavala and Benny decided not to think about it. And for once Chavala welcomed rough seas … she could focus her attention on her queasy stomach instead of the prospect of being led off to jail…

  Chavala and Benny looked out to the magnificent harbor of Manhattan, and there stood that lady with the torch held aloft. Her welcoming “Give me your poor” did not apply to these two standing on deck. When they finally reached customs the supposedly pregnant Mrs. Epstein trembled inwardly as the officer asked questions, then went through a cursory examination of Mr. and Mrs. Moses Epstein’s paper suitcases.

  Everything seemed in order. The asthmatic Chasid, Moses Epstein, stood at attention during the procedure. It was that or collapse. His wife merely died a thousand deaths. At last they were dismissed and waved on. As they were about to get into a cab, Benny’s shoelace, already loose, became untied, and the shoe with the five-inch hollow h
eel became detached from his foot. By the time he’d retrieved it and pulled the laces tight, Chavala had nearly fainted into the cab.

  Chavala sat in the basement of the landsman, her recovery nearly complete. After a warm greeting, he proceeded to take inventory, going meticulously through every packet. To Chavala it seemed hours. Finally he smiled. “Mazel tov. You have more than enough merchandise here to open two stores. The goods is good. Believe me.”

  She took a deep breath, let it out “What can I say, how do I thank you?”

  “When I see the store with your name on it, that will be my thanks.”

  She put her arms around him. He did look like a tzaddik. “I’ll never forget you for this, and I’ll pay you back every dime. You believe me.”

  He shook his head, “I know … I know. Worried about you, I’m not.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

  For once in Yussel Melnetsky’s life he felt loved. Mumbling under his breath, he said, “That’s better than money. I owe you…”

  That night was a busy, happy one at Moishe and Julie’s apartment on West End Avenue. Joshua was so happy and relieved to see his mother again, he scarcely left her side. Although none of them knew it, the presents they received had not been purchased in Berlin but at Macy’s department store. Well, Joshua cared nothing about the geography of the train set (made in Germany) that went over trestles and under bridges. But he wouldn’t, not even for his mother, wear the Tyrolean suit with the lederhosen and the gray felt hat with a feather, which Chavala bought in a shop on Fifty-seventh Street and Madison Avenue—made in Germany. Maybe he already had more sense than she did, Chavala thought

  From the dining room Julie summoned everyone in to dinner. Julie’s mother, an attractive if frail woman, was there, as well as Chia and Lenny Moscowitz and his parents.

  “Well,” said Moishe, standing with a glass of wine in his hand, “I have an important announcement to make … Julie and I are going to have a baby.”

  Squeals of congratulations.