by Helen Burko
He remained quiet, lost in his thoughts.
She continued. “All right?”
“All right.”
“Oh, liebling.” She laughed lightly. “Lift up your head and let me look into your black eyes. I like the play of light and shadow in your eyes. Look at me! How jealous you are! I thought you weren’t one of those because you have had a wife and a daughter, and so you shouldn’t be jealous, should you?”
“Don’t talk about what I was or what I had,” he said, angrily. “What I had is lost completely! You hear me? And don’t remind me of anyone else! No one! What I was is no more. I’m a different man now, damn it! Completely different! Who am I now? What am I now?”
“Oh, who are you really?” She looked into his eyes and saw his anger. “Who and what are you? Who?” she asked seriously.
“I’m a man emotionally dead!” He became angrier. “And you’re no better. The war turned us into emotional cripples! You parted from someone you can’t forget, and I had to part from my wife and child whom I must forget! Do you know what the meaning of ‘must’ is? Therefore, I don’t want to talk about anyone! No one!”
“Yes, I know very well what ‘must’ means,” she said with feeling and stroked his cheek. “I, too, have been forced to do something that under other conditions I wouldn’t do, although what I did was done voluntarily, an inner urge… I would call it an urge for adventure. Maybe I was naive to think I was experienced enough to act like that, to take the path I did and none other, and because of that, I lost the man I loved. But he is the only one to blame! But I had to do what I did because anyone else in my place would have done the same. Understand?”
“I haven’t understood anything!” He looked at her in surprise. “I only know that the more time we spend together, the less I understand.”
“I have told you it is better that way! We shouldn’t try to understand each other because we won’t succeed! Each of us is a world by himself! So I want you to take me as I am, and I’ll take you as you are, otherwise we won’t be able to stay together for even an hour. We needed each other because we were alone, and that’s all. In other times and in other circumstances, we wouldn’t have met so intimately. Now let’s leave it and love each other as long as we’re happy with each other.”
“What does that mean, ‘as long as we’re happy with each other’?” He looked at her angrily. “Didn’t you come with me of your own free will?”
“I assure you I wouldn’t have gone with just anyone, believe me! First of all, I liked you, your politeness, and your masculine appearance, and second, I was lonely. I didn’t speculate very long before I did what I did. When you do something without deliberation, the result is bad, but in our case, the result is not so bad. In time, we’ll learn to live with each other. Everything has happened as it had to happen. We’re together, and we’ll remain together until we can accustom ourselves to each other or part with the same swiftness with which we met. Maybe I’ll change my mind… In fact, I have changed it already. There were things I never understood.”
“Why do you talk like that? What are you thinking of?”
“I think in love, and also in disappointment, a large part is played by the circumstances that created it,” she said quietly. “Yes, it all depends on the circumstances. Sometimes a person is not responsible for his actions and doesn’t know what the result will be. I’m not certain you won’t leave me as suddenly as you found me.”
“Never!” he said excitedly. “You hear? I will never leave you! Even though you told me you came with me because of certain reasons that are not clear to me yet, I took you with me, and I would never leave you, no matter what! I am a gentleman, in spite of the fact that the war has taught me to be otherwise, and besides that, I love you. Yes… I love you, I’m sorry to say.”
“You’re sorry?” She smiled. “Time will tell. It’s good that you love me.”
“As a matter of fact, only today we came to know each other. No, not today, but only a few moments ago, I learned something about you,” he said. “In certain ways, you became closer to me, but you still remain a stranger.”
“What more do you want to know?”
“I don’t know. For example, why you wanted to leave Russia when you returned there voluntarily. You didn’t have to return. All these things raise doubts in my mind.”
“I hope,” she said, smiling cynically, “that in time you will know me better and then, liebling…”
“I understand from your words that you had a lover and that you left him in Russia and something is disturbing your conscience, but please, even if you sinned, tell me everything, and I’ll forgive you because I understand what love is and what it can do. And stop calling me ‘liebling’ all the time!”
She remained silent, and Jacob didn’t question her further. Both of them were quiet and contemplative.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A few more days passed. They avoided confrontation. This is war, concluded Jacob, and we have to accustom ourselves to it, to acquaint ourselves more with each other. I have to bring Rachel as quickly as possible to America and there try to heal all the wounds the war caused. She loves me, he reassured himself, but so much has happened to her. She probably left a lover who betrayed her and maybe even had a child by him... He may have promised to marry her and then refused. It hurt her, and she left Russia, never to return, but she has moments of longing and maybe even regret. Jacob searched for reasons and also ways to heal Rachel’s wounds. Perhaps time would heal it all. He would show her his love and do everything to help her forget. And then…
*****
A few days later, Jacob prepared to go again to Warsaw, to the American consulate, to see how their case was progressing and what the possibilities were of returning to America.
“Yes, I’ll go again today,” he told her fondly, “and you stay here. The journey is a tiring one, and there’s no need for you to go. I’ll return as soon as possible.”
“Yes, do go. I hate the trip by train, but I’d like to go to America already. It’s beginning to be a little boring here. But don’t stay too long,” she said after she kissed him. “You know how sad I will be without you.”
“Will you really miss me, you little devil?” He hugged her.
“You know how much I love you,” she said. “Hurry back!”
He hugged her and then gazed into her eyes, hoping to find the truth. But he saw nothing there, like a fisherman who casts his lure in vain.
“I’ll come back early, dear one. I have to arrange everything for our trip. I know we can’t stay here forever, even though it’s good here and we have enjoyed ourselves.”
When they left the house, she walked with him through the woods a little way, and then they stopped and he kissed her. Looking into her eyes again, he could see a faint hidden smile, but he couldn’t find its meaning. When he gave her a parting kiss, she clung to him erotically so that he could feel every part of her body. She laughed a cunning laugh, realizing she was driving him out of his mind.
Even though she enjoyed her control over him, she wanted him to leave as soon as possible, but she couldn’t show him that. On the contrary, she had to show him that she loved him more than ever. When she felt he was inflamed, she moved away, saying, “Enough! Go ahead, darling, and come back soon!” She then quickly ran away.
Rachel, as soon as she was sure that Jacob had gone, felt as though she was free from the ropes that bound her. For quite a while, she had looked forward to being alone. Nobody was in the house. Marta, as usual, had left early. Only the cat slept in a chair.
She picked up the cat and began to talk to it.
“I was rescued from hell thanks to him. Yes, he’s good to me and loves me very much, and that’s good. He’ll love me as long as I need him.” She laughed. “Sometimes he amuses me.
“I can’t go home… The Russians have captured it. Oh, those Russians! I learned to know them well until I was fed up with them, even though there were a few nice ones. That Major G
erasimov… How comical he was when he was drunk. The drink was his god, and I was his goddess. Yasayev was also a good man. Ahh, it seems there are good men in every nation.” She laughed. “I have become a communist…an inter-nationalist!” She walked around the room with the cat in her arms until she stopped and faced the big mirror hanging on the wall.
“I wonder how he would react if he knew who I really was? Would he still love me as he does now? Anyway, I should be grateful… He’s really a good man, maybe because he was brought up in America. Yes, he has done a lot for me, and even now he is still ready to go through fire and water for me, but I’m playing on his nerves a little too much. Hmmm… l enjoy it!
“He mustn’t know who I am yet. He has a lawyer’s curiosity or a lover’s. He’s a Jew. Does an Aryan girl act like this? Do all ends justify the means? But what choice did I have after…?”
She turned away from the mirror and listened again to the silence broken only by the rustle of the pine trees and the singing of the birds.
She took the cat and hugged it to her.
“Oh, my sweet! My sweet one! Do you understand? Tell me, Kitzie, do you understand?”
The cat straightened up and stared at her as if to say, “No, I understand nothing!”
“You don’t understand, do you? Oh, how fine it is for you that you are a cat and understand nothing. Or maybe you do understand a lot… Maybe more than me!”
She talked to the cat for a long time until it began to bore her, and then she put him down and began again to search the closets and drawers, some of which were locked. Those especially aroused her curiosity.
She succeeded in opening one of them with the help of a kitchen knife. In it was ironed lingerie, neatly piled, and next to it an album that drew her attention. She opened it and realized that it held pictures of Marta’s family. She saw a photograph of a strong, handsome, blond young man in his twenties.
What a handsome young man, she thought. I wonder if that is Marta’s son.
Suddenly, she heard someone walking in the woods near the house, and she hurriedly returned the album to the drawer, hurried out to the corridor, and opened the door.
“Marta!” she called out with pretended joy, a little startled to see her. “Good that you came, Pani Marta. I was so sad and bored.”
“Pan Jacob isn’t here?” asked Marta disinterestedly.
“No, he isn’t. He went to Warsaw to arrange for our trip to America. We won’t be staying here much longer.”
“Yes, Pani Rachel, you won’t be here much longer,” Marta said as she put down her sack of groceries. “How lucky you are that you can leave this place while we have to stay here.”
“Is it so bad here? After all, you’re living in your own country and you have your own boarding house, and in my opinion, that’s not so bad. You should be content.”
“Right… Not bad. I should be content.”
“But you should be living near your son. It must be sad for you to be alone in such a large house with so many rooms. You should really bring him to live here!”
“Oh, my son…my son.” Marta sighed. “Yes, my son…”
“Is something wrong with your son?” Rachel asked, seeing Marta’s sad expression. “Is he ill?”
“Yes, he’s ill… And even worse than ill!”
“A wounded war veteran?”
“Yes, a cripple.”
“So… Though I suppose that as a wounded veteran, he has certain privileges—even a pension. Right Pani Marta?”
“Yes, a pension…wounded.” Marta sighed again. Rachel saw that Marta wanted to say more but restrained herself. Rachel didn’t have anything to do, so she decided to try to wheedle the story out of Marta.
“Your son is still young, I take it, and probably handsome if he takes after his mother.”
“Why does Pani Rachel think he is young and handsome?” asked Marta, reviving a little. “It’s true, my son is really handsome—he resembles his dead father—but what’s the use…”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to live together with an old woman, huh?” Rachel continued to goad Marta into talking. “That’s the way of young sons.”
Marta opened her eyes wide, blinked, and remained silent.
When Rachel saw she couldn’t tease Marta into talking about her son, she changed the subject. She began to ask her how it was there during the war, if they fought or left the fighting to the Germans.
“We didn’t lack trouble; we suffered very much.”
“What kind of suffering does Pani Marta mean?”
“The Russians shelled us without stop.”
“Were there Germans living in this house?”
“Here? With me?” Marta asked fearfully.
“Yes, in this house.”
“Believe me, Pani Rachel, I don’t even remember myself who lived here. Who didn’t live here?”
Rachel raced into a room and came out holding the cap.
“What is this, Pani Marta? Whose was it? Were Germans hiding here? Tell me about it, Pani Marta. I would like to know!”
When she saw the cap, Marta’s face turned pale and her wrinkles deepened, but she soon recovered and took the cap.
“Oh, I don’t know where this came from. As if I don’t have enough troubles without it! If the police see this… I didn’t know a thing like this was here.”
“Don’t be afraid, Pani Marta. I won’t make trouble for you, I promise. I just wanted to know where it came from, that’s all.”
“Why do you want to know that, Pani Rachel?” Marta looked at Rachel with surprise, although now she was calmer. “I told you I don’t know. But generally speaking, I must ask you not to look through my things. There was a war… Who knows what more the Russian soldiers left behind. As I told you, they were here a few days, got drunk, brought women here, and had orgies. They locked me in a room.” She sighed. “They sinned… Oh, what terrible sins!”
“There is no reason to be frightened, Pani Marta. I promised you that nothing bad would happen to you. You can speak to me freely.”
Marta looked at Rachel and couldn’t understand what this Jewish woman wanted from her. Instead of talking about the cap, she began to pour her heart out about her loneliness and about her dear son who lived far away.
Rachel listened closely, but her mind was really on other things.
“Will your husband be in Warsaw a long time?” Marta asked when she saw Rachel was not listening. “Tell me Pani Rachel, what should I make for dinner? I’m in a hurry; I have to leave.”
Rachel hardly heard her. When she realized Marta was talking to her, she asked, “What did you say, Pani Marta?”
“What should I prepare for dinner?”
“Prepare what you like, Pani Marta. I’m going for a walk in the forest. Oh, I’d like to go away already.”
Rachel walked away angrily.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Jacob returned from Warsaw, he found the door of the boarding house locked. He waited for half an hour, and when Rachel hadn’t returned, he began to worry.
Where can she be? he asked himself. What happened to her? Has she gone with Marta to town? Or maybe she went for a walk?
He sat on the porch and waited. A May breeze ruffled the treetops, and from time to time, a pinecone fell to the ground as though on purpose to disturb the utopia. Long shadows, cast by the tall trees, danced around the house.
Becoming anxious, he rose and walked around the building. He tried to peek into the windows—maybe she was sleeping—but he soon realized the place was empty.
Rain, a soft drizzle, began to fall and gradually turned into a downpour. Suddenly he heard someone walking in the trees. Certain that it was Rachel, he began to run toward her, impatient to see her. Disappointment came swiftly when he saw it was Marta.
“Marta! Have you seen Rachel?”
“No, I haven’t seen her.” And when she saw how pale he was, she asked, “What happened to Pani Rachel?”
“I don’t know. She’s not
here. The door is locked, and I’ve been waiting here a long time. When did you go out, Pani Marta? Maybe you know where she went?”
“I don’t know. After I prepared the dinner, I left.”
“Was she here when you left?”
“No, she said she was going to take a walk.”
“And that’s all she said? She didn’t ask you to take a message for me?”
“No, she only said she was sad here and wished she could leave already.”
They entered the silent house. A few hours passed, and still Rachel didn’t return. Jacob began to suspect all kinds of things. Perhaps she had left him? Maybe she returned to Russia out of longing and regret?
He went into their bedroom and looked around. Rachel had fixed up the room and even decorated it a little. He began to search for a letter or a note she might have left him, but he found nothing.
With anger and sorrow, he looked at the room as if something awful had taken place there. He looked at the mirror on the old closet that reflected the worn furniture. He looked at the chandelier with its red shade that once had made the room look so intimate but now looked like a spot of blood hanging from the ceiling. Even her little suitcase lay under the bed, dusty and neglected.
She hadn’t wanted to part from it. “It’s a souvenir of our happy night in the station house in Kiev, where we met.” She had always objected when he told her to throw it away.
What is the meaning of this? he asked himself. It’s a mystery! Everything is in its place, and only she is missing!
It was very dark outside when Jacob decided to go out and search for her in the forest. He couldn’t calm down. The war ended not so long ago, he speculated. Bands of partisans are still roaming around and maybe they kidnapped her while she was taking a walk in the forest. He walked through the trees in the rain and looked under every bush. Maybe she was hurt and lying there, but he found nothing and finally returned to the house.
He tried again to talk to Marta to find out what Rachel did before she left for her walk, but the hour was late and Marta was preparing to go to bed.