“So tell me, Dr. Scott, what made you come to America then?” Paul asked Oscar.
Henry only half listened to Oscarʼs tales about his adventurous spirit having been kindled and his desire for a change of scenery. Just like Sarah next to him, he excitedly peered out of the window and found himself being overwhelmed by all the new impressions. Sarah turned her head to look at him, and Henry was relieved to see that the expression of bitterness on her face, which he had noticed a while ago, had entirely disappeared and had given way to a blissful smile.
When they had reached the end of the bridge, they began to travel north until they arrived in a borough called Williamsburgh. Some fifteen minutes later, the coach stopped in front of a neat three storey brownstone house in a street called Summer Hill Avenue, which was lined by a row of tall poplars. The trees were bare of leaves now, but Henry guessed that this place had to look rather beautiful in spring time when everything was in full blossom.
Paul helped the coach driver take the luggage down from the coach roof. Then he led Henry, Sarah and Oscar to the house and opened the door. Inside, they climbed up the stairwell to the top floor, and—having arrived there—they were received by a very pretty, dark-haired young woman with a gorgeous, winning smile and curiously sparkling eyes. Judging by the size of her belly Henry gathered that she was pregnant, just like Sarah.
“This is my wife Yasmina,” Paul explained. “And these are our two children, Ephraim and Renana.”
A boy and a girl appeared at either side of Yasmina and shyly hid behind their mother. From Paulʼs letters Henry knew that Renana had just turned six and that Ephraim was still a toddler of about eighteen months who could barely walk. The boy stuck his thumb in his mouth and began to suck at it, a slightly indifferent expression on his face, whereas the girl could barely conceal her excitement, just like her mother.
Yasmina lifted Ephraim up with her arms and turned to Henry, Sarah, and Oscar again.
“Borek-Habo and Sholem-Aleykhem,” she twittered merrily.
Henry felt Sarah tug at the sleeve of his jacket.
“I do not understand a word...” she whispered helplessly. “You never told me that they speak a different language in America.”
“They donʼt speak a different language in America,” Yasmina, who had heard her, explained in perfect English. “But my family speaks a different language. Borek-Habo and Sholem-Aleykhem is Yiddish and means something like ʻWelcome, nice to meet you.ʼ We are Jewish. I hope this isnʼt... well, a problem for you...?”
Yasmina uncertainly looked at Henry, Sarah and Oscar.
“Why should it?” Sarah asked puzzled.
“We are more than pleased to meet you, Mrs. Abbott,” Henry said, while Oscar took Yasminaʼs hand and kissed it, which made her blush.
“Henry brought his friend, Dr. Scott, and Sarah, his girl,” Paul said to his wife. “Do you think you could prepare two extra portions for lunch?”
Oscar immediately interfered before Yasmina could open her mouth and respond.
“Please, donʼt. I only happened to come along with Henry. I will be on my way shortly and most definitely do not want to cause you any additional trouble...”
Yasmina took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“It is no trouble at all, Doctor,” she said softly. “Please do come in and get to know my family. It would be an honor for us to have you as a guest.”
Oscar bashfully lowered his gaze.
“Well, if you so kindly ask me in, I will, of course, not reject your generous invitation,” he said. Now it was his turn to blush.
“Lovely!” Yasmina chirped. Henry found her lively and cheerful nature rather contagious.
Yasmina led Henry, Oscar and Sarah inside, and the next moment they found themselves in a small living room. The wonderful smell of freshly made coffee filled the air and made Henryʼs mouth water.
The room was only scarcely furbished. There were a couple of chairs, a sofa and a dining table, the latter decorated with a vase of flowers. Sitting on the sofa was an elderly woman in her late seventies, who curiously peered through a pair of glasses at the numerous people who had suddenly turned up at her doorstep. In a corner, Henry spotted a little desk with a sewing machine on it, and next to it lay an enormous pile of clothes. There were no pictures on the walls whose faded wallpaper threatened to come off in some spots, peeling like the skin of someone who had lain in the sun for a little bit too long. No item in the room, neither the candlesticks nor the curtains, neither the sofa nor the carpet, matched with the other items in colour or style. Henry guessed that it was all just an assortment of things Paul and Yasmina had found in second hand stores or on jumble sales over the years. Especially the sofa appeared as if it was dating back to the times of Queen Anne, with several springs sticking out of the upholstery.
But despite its slightly run-down aspect and unconventional patchwork style, the place was neat and very tidy, comfortable and inviting, and radiated the warmth and love of its inhabitants.
As there wasnʼt a proper kitchen, food had to be prepared on a cast-iron range cooker in a small niche in the living room. There, standing next to a cupboard which held the cups and plates, Henry spotted a woman in her forties, who bore a striking resemblance to Yasmina and who was just in the process of making some coffee.
“This is my mother Esther,” Yasmina explained. Esther wiped her hands at a towel and walked over to Henry, Oscar and Sarah in order to greet them.
“Sholem-Aleykhem,” she said and added with a strong accent, “it is very nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Henry answered. “Thanks for having us, Mrs... sorry, I donʼt even know your name.”
“Levy,” Yasminaʼs mother answered politely, “but please call me Esther.”
“And this is Bubbe,” Paul pointed at the old woman on the sofa. “Her name is actually Muriel, but we all call her Bubbe, which means grandmother.”
Henry, Oscar and Sarah said hello to Bubbe, who asked Paul something in Yiddish.
“They are friends of my brother Henry!” Paul shouted into her ear. “Henry is the one with the sling!”
Henry guessed that Bubbe couldnʼt hear very well.
Yasmina rolled her eyes at Paul.
“I keep telling you that she doesnʼt understand you if you talk to her so fast. And donʼt shriek into her ears like that. She is not deaf yet. Let me do it. ”
Yasmina sat down next to Bubbe and began to softly speak to her in Yiddish while pointing her finger over to Henry, Oscar and Sarah alternately. Quietly listening to what Yasmina had to say, Bubbe nodded and then, in a welcoming gesture, waved over to the three strangers in her living room.
“You must excuse her,” Yasmina explained when she had got up from the sofa again. “She is too old to learn another language. There are days when she doesnʼt even remember her name. But believe it or not, she is an expert on card games. She always wins.”
Esther had just finished setting the table with cups, cutlery, and a huge plate of fresh bagels.
“Please, have a seat,” she said. And although she smiled and appeared overly friendly, Henry didnʼt fail to notice a certain melancholy and sadness in her eyes, as if she was in fact hiding a lot of grief deep inside of her.
They all sat down at the table, whereas Bubbe remained seated on the sofa with Renana crouching next to her. The girl was busy combing the hair of her doll, but every so often she risked a secretive and curious glance over to Sarah.
“It is very nice here,” Henry remarked as he was watching Yasmina pour delicious steaming coffee into his cup.
“Well, it is most definitely an improvement to where we lived before,” Paul said and took a bagel from the plate. “In the beginning we all lived in these tenements on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where nearly all the newly-arrived immigrants stay. You saw the blocks when we drove out of the harbor. It was cheap—only one Dollar a week—but it was also terribly run-down and filthy. And you had to share
with an awful lot of people. As for myself, I shared one room with a family of five, but Yasmina, Esther and Bubbe were stuck in a place with nine people in a tenement at the other end of the quarter very close to the canal; so they were twelve altogether. Not counting in the rats.”
Paul gave a little laugh, whereas Yasmina pulled a tortured face.
“Oh yes, the rats... that was a nightmare...” she mumbled.
“Not as bad as the lice plaque, though,” Esther threw in.
“Yes, that was extremely bad!” Paul exclaimed. “I mean, rats can at least be kept at bay in one way or the other, but the lice were simply all over the place! If one had them, everyone had them. Disgusting!”
“There wasnʼt any running water either,” Yasmina added. “And on top of that we were always worried that someone might carry a disease that could break out; typhoid and the likes. I was so scared back then, especially during the time that I was pregnant with Renana...”
Upon hearing her name, Renana climbed off the sofa, strolled over to Sarah and examined her from head to toe.
“You hair is like the hair of my doll. Can I show you my doll?” the girl asked sheepishly.
“Renana, my darling,” Yasmina said to her, “let Sarah eat her bagel first. She must be very hungry and tired. You can show her your doll later.”
Renana pouted a little but ultimately succumbed to her motherʼs wish and crept back on the sofa, where she was lingering and secretly watching the small congregation at the table from afar, waiting for the right moment when she could start another attempt to get Sarahʼs attention which she so obviously wanted.
“Anyway,” Paul said with a sigh, “it was a rough time. And we were really lucky when we got this place here.”
“How did you manage to find it?” Henry asked.
“Paul had been working down at the docks,” Yasmina continued. “And Bubbe, mother and I had begun to do cheap sewing work for the neighbors. After having spent years of making sacrifices, we had managed to put a little money aside. And eventually Paul and I decided to follow the example of the Spielbergs, some Jewish friends of us who had previously moved to Williamsburgh and who told us that the borough had a huge Jewish community with many synagogues and Jewish schools for children.”
“We couldnʼt afford a big flat like the one the Spielbergs had rented,” Paul added. “But considering the place we had stayed before, we found that this flat here was as good as anything. It might be a wretched shack, but it provides enough space for all of us, and most importantly we have it to ourselves. That helps you ignore the fact that the odd thing here and there is in need of being repaired or redecorated.”
“May I ask, how you met each other?” Oscar asked while gratefully accepting another bagel which Esther handed him.
“That is quite a short story actually,” Paul answered. “Yasminaʼs family and I had lived a fair bit apart from each other, one or two blocks or so. One day in the late evening hours after work, I was on my way back home when I suddenly saw Yasmina walking down the street, pulling a very heavy handcart behind her, laden with firewood for the stove. It was snowing terribly back then and it was cold and windy, and so she had wrapped a woollen scarf around her face. I hardly saw anything of her except for her sparkling eyes.”
“I remember that moment very well when Paul suddenly appeared next to me, seemingly out of nowhere,” Yasmina added. “At first I feared he was a vagabond, trying to rob my firewood. But then he only asked me if he should help me carry the cart. And how could I have said no to him with the crooked smile he flashed at me? I completely fell for him... Anyway, Paul pulled my cart all the way back home and even carried the firewood up the stairs to the third floor where we lived.”
“And when I arrived at their place, I came just in time for dinner,” Paul continued with a grin. “Because I had helped Yasmina, Esther was so kind to invite me in return. And when she served me that delicious Falafel which she had cooked, I was captivated. From that day on, Yasmina and I were together and I moved in with her, the family, and the rats. It was as simple as that.”
“Well, I hope my motherʼs Falafel wasnʼt the only reason that you married me,” Yasmina said in a tone of playful reproach.
“Of course not.” Paul winked at Yasmina mischievously and added, “But I must admit that it played a major part in my decision-making process.”
Laughter filled the air. Yasmina pulled a face but soon cheered up when Paul leaned over and planted a tender kiss on her cheek.
“Paul, do you think you could possibly ask your boss down at the docks if he could give me some work, too?” Henry asked.
“Sure,” Paul answered and took a bite of his bagel, “they always need people down there.”
“Henry,” Oscar remarked, “I think you should not do anything in a rush and still try and apply for this position that Deirdre and Shannon mentioned.”
Yasmina and Paul cast Henry a curious look.
“It is a teaching position offered by a certain Mr. Sandler,” Henry explained casually. “Allegedly he is the co-owner of some company selling Irish souvenirs. But I seriously donʼt think that I will stand a chance.”
“Did you say Sandler?” Yasmina blurted out. “You are not talking about M.O.I., are you?!”
“M.O.I.?” Henry asked puzzled.
“Memories of Ireland,” Paul explained. “Thatʼs a very big company which imports products from Ireland for rich Irish people who live here in America and want to feel a little bit like home. The founder is someone called Neill Kavanagh. Sandler is his business partner.”
“Kavanagh!” Oscar exclaimed. “Thatʼs the father of the two women we met on board! When they heard that Henry is a teacher, they suggested he should try and get in touch with Mr. Sandler who is apparently looking for a private tutor for his two boys.”
“Oh my goodness! Can you imagine, Paul, he is going to work for Mr. Sandler!” Yasmina blurted out excitedly.
Henry laughed and raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Such an announcement is probably a little bit premature. I havenʼt even applied for the position yet.”
“But you really should,” Paul said. “Sandler is one of the richest entrepreneurs in the city. If you really get to work for him, I am sure you will be paid very well. This is a really great opportunity for you.”
“And what about me? What will I do?” Sarah, who had been rather quiet and shy ever since Paul had collected them at the pier, suddenly asked. Yasmina turned to her and smiled.
“Sarah, can you sew?” she asked softly.
“Yes, I can,” Sarah answered.
“It is just that I was wondering if you would be interested in helping my mother and me with our sewing work,” Yasmina went on. “You know, when we moved out here, we continued offering our services to the people. And we have managed to build a considerable client base in this area. Now Esther and I can hardly keep up with the workload. We were already considering to employ someone. If you like, you can help us. That will give you some extra money and something to do when Henry is at work.”
Sarahʼs whole face came alive. She beamed when she answered, “I would love to.”
“Oh, thatʼs perfect then!” Yasmina exclaimed, happily clapping her hands.
“Tell us your story now,” Esther suddenly asked Henry and Sarah. “How did you two meet?”
Henry hesitated, uncertain if he should tell the Levys what had really happened back in England. But before he could open his mouth and say something, Paul began to speak.
“He actually fought a duel with another man.” Henry noticed that Paulʼs voice was tinged with admiration and respect.
“Oh did you?!” Yasmina exclaimed.
“Well, I didnʼt kill anyone,” Henry explained yet again. “We only had a little fight. That was when this here happened...”
Henry pointed at his bandaged arm.
“Oh, isnʼt this so romantic...” Yasmina sighed in a sudden bout of sentimentality.
“Well, in all
seriousness,” Henry added, placing his hand on Oscarʼs shoulder, “we wouldnʼt have managed to get away unscathed if it had not been for this man here. If he had not come to my aid in the nick of time, I donʼt know where we would be...”
Oscar bashfully lowered his gaze.
“I would rather say that we were a good team,” he said. “Both of us equally contributed to the success of this... undertaking, so to speak.”
“Well, we must definitely find you a place to stay, Dr. Scott,” Yasmina said. “We will not have you wander around on your own on your very first day in New York.”
“Thatʼs right,” Paul added quickly.
Henry & Sarah Page 48