The Takeaway Men

by Meryl Ain

  “Aunt Becky,” said JoJo. “We don’t want to go; we want to stay here with Mama and Papa.”

  “That could present a problem,” said Becky.

  “Why?”

  “Your mother’s being hunted; she is a spy. And your father and Izzy and Faye are in danger for hiding her here. They’re all in trouble. We need to get out of here soon, so we don’t get caught up in it. Go pack your things. The dolls say time is of the essence. They know what they’re talking about.”

  Bronka loved Aunt Becky, but even the suggestible and anxious sister knew this made no sense at all.

  “Dolls can’t talk, any more than they can cry or eat or drink,” said Bronka.

  “Bronka,” Becky snapped at her. “I know what I heard. These dolls talk to me, and they are warning us. Go pack your things.”

  Johanna had lost her patience, and she wanted her doll returned to her.

  “Okay, but give us our dolls back,”

  “I can’t do that,” said Becky. “They want to consult with me more. This is for your own good.”

  Johanna bolted out of the room, but Bronka stayed behind to give Becky a hug. There was something wrong with her aunt; she better tell Mama. Mama would know what to do. Maybe if they could just make Becky happy, she wouldn’t need to have imaginary conversations with the Ginny dolls.

  How do you solve a problem called Rebecca? Faye had struggled with that challenge every day since her daughter had returned from Israel. Other than her friendship with Lenore and the occasional dates she got for her, Becky had no social life.

  Becky could be caring and giving, as she had demonstrated with the twins. But more and more, she was receding into her own world. Faye did not know where to turn. She was afraid that if she brought her to a psychiatrist, people would find out. She also suspected that if Becky became dependent on a local doctor, she would never move out of the house. But things were definitely getting worse; she could no longer pretend there was nothing wrong.

  Faye was spooked by Becky’s bizarre comments, the voices she said she heard, and her erratic behavior. Above all, Faye wanted shalom bayis, a peaceful home. As a second wife, she especially wanted to keep Izzy happy. She also wanted to make sure that the younger Lubinskis would remain in her home, and she was deathly afraid that they would move out if Becky continued to deteriorate.

  Aron had told Izzy that they were planning to go house hunting in the spring. This was not his doing, he explained to him. He was content to continue with their arrangement. Why wouldn’t he be? He had few expenses and saved his money. Having hid from the Nazis in the most challenging physical and psychological environments, he could tolerate Becky’s presence by simply blocking it out. He had a roof over his head, running water, and three meals a day. That was enough for him. But while Judy was sympathetic to Becky as a human being, she was increasingly concerned that this was not a wholesome environment for her children. And she did not appreciate Becky’s wariness and hostility toward her, which was becoming increasingly evident—especially since the Ginny doll episode.

  From the time of Becky’s surprise arrival at Idlewild, Faye had not intended for her to stay with them more than a few weeks. Originally, she thought it would be a stopgap measure. She had suggested time and again that Becky move out and get a place of her own, but Faye’s entreaties were met by frozen silence and even hunger strikes.

  Bronka sat with Becky, stroking her hair and talking to her, bringing her cookies and milk, and telling her she loved her. Judy’s young daughter’s caring and compassion moved her. But she also knew that Bronka’s kindness would not cure Becky.

  Johanna was a different matter. Judy was troubled that Becky’s situation had engendered the first major war between the sisters. In no uncertain terms, JoJo wanted her out of the house, or she wanted the family to move. She had made her feelings abundantly clear. The happy, outgoing, popular twin stopped bringing her friends home. It was enough that her father’s speech and dress were an embarrassment to her; now she was afraid that her friends would see Becky’s bizarre behavior as a reflection on her. She lobbied and cajoled Bronka to support her position, but Bronka believed that if everyone gave Becky enough love, she would be fine.

  Judy had endured enough to make her an acute observer of human nature. In addition, as her mother’s nursing assistant, she had seen the whole panoply of physical illnesses and mental disorders. She had often discussed health matters with her mother. She clearly remembered one time when the doctor examined a young man who had threatened his mother with a knife because there were voices in his head telling him to do so. Her mother explained to her that the voices were real to him and that he had schizophrenia. She shuddered remembering that shortly before she died in 1939, her mother had told her that German psychiatric patients were being sterilized and murdered.

  It was obvious to Judy that Becky was suffering from mental illness—and her illness needed to be treated as the disease that it was. But how could she suggest that Becky get help if Faye never acknowledged it? She knew Faye cared about appearances. It was a stigma and a giant elephant in the room. She became more and more frustrated—even angry—that Faye continued to ignore it.

  Although she had secretly become more alarmed after the New Year’s Eve incident, Faye was still not willing to confront her daughter’s condition directly nor to discuss it with anyone. But lately Becky had taken her strange behavior to new levels.

  One night, with a blizzard predicted, Becky had gone outside and stood under the streetlamp. As the snow began to fall, Faye peered from the kitchen window at her detached and disheveled daughter. There she was—with no hat, no coat, no gloves, no boots. What was she thinking? What demons inhabited her mind? She watched as Becky appeared to mumble to herself, examining her fingers.

  The twins were upstairs in their room, getting ready for bed.

  “They’re predicting a blizzard,” said JoJo. “I hope school will be cancelled for tomorrow.”

  Bronka ran to the window to see if the snow was starting to accumulate, and she spotted Becky standing under the streetlamp and panicked.

  “Aunt Becky is standing out in the snow. I have to go outside and bring her in.”

  “Bronka, let the grown-ups handle it,” said JoJo. “Mindy says she belongs in Creedmoor with all the other crazy people. She shouldn’t be living here. And if she stays, I told Mama I want us to move.”

  “Oh no,” said Bronka, crying. “She has to stay here with us. She is family. I don’t want her sent away. And I don’t want to move. I have to help her. I feel so sorry for her.”

  “You’re nuts. I feel sorry for us. She’s spoiling everything. Everyone can tell she’s crazy. Pretty soon, no one will want to be friends with me anymore.”

  “If those are the kind of friends you have, why would you even want them?”

  Bronka ran down the stairs while JoJo yelled, “Stop it, Bronka. She’s ruining our lives. Stay out of it.”

  “Mama, Tante Faye,” Bronka screamed hysterically as she went to the coat closet, frantically pulling out Becky’s coat and hat and gloves. “Aunt Becky is going to freeze to death out there. I’m going to go outside.”

  “No, Bronka,” said Izzy. “I’ll take care of it. Give me those.”

  “Bronka,” Aron chimed in. “I do not allow you to go outside in a blizzard. I will go with Izzy. This is not something you can fix.”

  Bronka reluctantly handed Becky’s things to Izzy, while Faye was already putting her coat and boots on.

  “I will talk to her; give me the coat,” said Faye as she walked out the door with the two men following her. “Let me handle it.”

  Faye approached the shivering and mumbling Becky. She was looking aimlessly at her fingernails, a blank stare on her face.

  “Here, sweetheart, I brought you your coat; you must be freezing,”

  Becky did not respond, so Faye tried to drape the coat around her, but Becky knocked it off.

  Izzy was neither a gentle nor a subt
le man and he grabbed Becky’s arm, hard.

  She started screaming. “The snow is upside down. It’s on its head, on my head. The men all have knives—icy knives. They are coming here tonight.”

  With his sixth sense, Irv Rosen was soon on the scene. And when Lenore saw Irv and the commotion from her window, she joined the group.

  For all of Lenore’s faults, she was a good friend to Becky. She found her interesting and intelligent, although unstable.

  “Hi, Becky, what’s the matter, honey?” Lenore said. “Are you drunk?”

  “No way; not me. Don’t you hear them? They’re warning us about the knives. Hide the sterling silver.”

  Irv put his arm around her. “Becky, let’s go in the house. It’s freezing out here.”

  “My head is full of knives. Don’t hit me with a stick or a bat or a rock.”

  “Becky, you must come inside now. We are all going to freeze to death.”

  “It’s not safe, and now we can’t hide, and they’re going to kill us all.”

  “The three of us can try to carry her into the house,” said Irv.

  “Why don’t we just call an ambulance?” Lenore suggested. “I’m telling you she needs medical attention. They’ll know how to handle this. I’m going inside to call.”

  No one stopped her; after all, Lenore was Becky’s one friend, and she worked in a hospital. Five minutes later, the wailing of the police car and ambulance sirens further agitated Becky.

  As the ambulance came to a stop, Becky lay down in the snow. She ignored the pleas of the medical attendants and the police. Finally, she was taken away in a straitjacket. Faye rode in the ambulance with her daughter.

  The twins observed the entire scene from their second-floor window.

  When Faye hopped into the ambulance, she told Izzy not to bother following her in his car. She preferred to go to the hospital by herself. Izzy would just be restless and annoyed.

  It was normally less than five minutes from 253rd Street to JHNQ, but the roads were slick and as yet unplowed, so it took significantly longer. Becky alternated between screaming, groaning, and babbling unintelligibly.

  When she arrived at the hospital, she was placed on a metal table and her body strapped with leather restraints. She thrashed and yelled and howled.

  “It’s a good thing that you called an ambulance, and your daughter is in the hospital,” the young doctor in the emergency room told Faye. “Her condition is extremely serious. I believe she is exhibiting signs of acute paranoid schizophrenia. We will keep her here for a few days for observation, call in a psychiatrist, and probably administer some medication. After that, we will consult with you and make a decision.”

  Schizophrenia. The very word struck fear and recrimination in Faye. She was not only devastated but wracked with guilt. The truth attacked her like a newly sharpened knife. She was relieved she was alone. She could not bear to face Izzy’s annoyance or even Judy’s well-intentioned sympathy.

  What could she have done to prevent this? Faye had believed if she’d just listened to, comforted, and coddled Becky enough, she would be okay. No, not really. She had been deluding herself. She knew her daughter was getting worse, not better. She had sought to sweep Becky’s issues under the rug, but she feared they were no longer within her control. Now, what would she tell people? What would she tell herself?

  The blizzard lasted for two days. Faye spent two nights in the hospital, and once the snow stopped, returned home. She visited her daughter every day. A week after Becky was admitted, Faye was called to a meeting with a medical doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse, and a social worker.

  “There is no question that Rebecca has schizophrenia,” said the psychiatrist. “Her symptoms are classic—disorganization of thought, hallucinations, voices in her head, speaking in nonsensical gibberish. You must understand that this is very real to her. She is living in a state of terror.

  “We believe we have alleviated some of the symptoms, both through shock therapy and a fairly new medication. There is a new drug, chlorpromazine, which is now being used to alleviate symptoms of schizophrenia.

  “Ten years ago, chlorpromazine did not exist, so the timing is good. If she stays on it, her condition should improve. But many people with schizophrenia stop taking meds once they feel better. Also, there are side effects to chlorpromazine. These include movement problems, sleepiness, dry mouth, low blood pressure upon standing, and weight gain. There are also some more serious side effects, but those are rare. That is why we are strongly recommending that you agree to institutionalize your daughter, at least for the near future.

  “Our recommendation is for you to commit her to Creedmoor. As her mother, you have the authority to sign the papers committing her. Her condition will be carefully monitored there, and she will be in a safe and secure setting.”

  Faye was well aware of Creedmoor. It was the seventeen-story, sandstone state mental hospital that sat on two hundred acres of flat grass and trees on the edge of Alley Pond Park, only two miles from her home. In stark contrast, it was bordered by neighborhoods of small one- and two-story homes. For people who lived in northeast Queens, especially children, the very word Creedmoor evoked mystery, dread, and dark humor. No one knew what went on there, but there was always a fear that some of the patients would escape and drift through the community, wreaking havoc.

  This was a lot for Faye to absorb. It seemed like only a few months ago Becky was buying the twins Ginny dolls, launching them on a reading project, and going on blind dates. She could not stand the thought of putting her daughter in an institution, especially one that had the reputation of being a crowded madhouse.

  “Is there no alternative but Cree—?” the word stuck in her throat. She could not even get out the word, Creedmoor. She was exhausted and angry and defeated.

  “Well, if you want to consider a private mental facility, Lakeville Hospital shares a campus with us,” said the social worker. “It’s tiny compared to Creedmoor, and she’ll get much more personalized attention there. They have meaningful activities for the patients too, like gardening and arts and crafts. I can set up an appointment for you to go over there now, if you like. They’ll show you around and discuss the fees with you. If you can afford it, it’s a good alternative.”

  “I want to see her first before I decide,” Faye said.

  An hour later, Faye had signed on the dotted line. Becky would be a patient at Lakeville for the foreseeable future. To Faye’s mind, if her daughter had to be institutionalized, she had at least placed her in an elite setting.

  Once that was done, she took the bus home and started thinking of a cover story. It was hard enough for her to accept that her only daughter had schizophrenia, but she knew she could not bring herself to say the word to others—certainly not to Izzy. She racked her brain but could not think of anyone she knew who ever admitted that they had someone with mental illness in their family. She felt ashamed, responsible, disgraced, as if it were a reflection on her—her genetics, her parenting skills, her personality, her very being.

  When Faye arrived home, the whole family gathered around her.

  “Where’s Aunt Becky? Is she okay?” Bronka said in an agitated voice.

  “Of course,” said Faye. “You know, she’s just very tired and needs to rest.”

  “Why can’t she rest here?”

  “She needs some medicine and treatments to help her recover, which they can only administer in the hospital. Lakeville is a very beautiful place, with lovely rooms and trees and gardens.”

  “Okay, that’s enough questions,” Judy said. “Faye looks so tired. Let her take her coat off. I’ll make you some tea, Faye. Girls, why don’t you bundle up and go outside and make a snowman? Then you can come in and I’ll make you some hot cocoa.”

  Bronka was beginning to detect a pattern to her mother’s behavior. She shooed her and her sister away whenever the real story was about to be revealed. She could see that she did not want them to know about certain thin
gs. But Judy’s actions had the opposite effect on Bronka. She yearned for the unvarnished truth in all things.

  As the girls started to scurry away, they heard Judy ask Faye about the nature of Becky’s illness.

  “Oh, she had a nervous breakdown,” Faye said casually.

  “How long will she be there?”

  “Oh, for the foreseeable future. And then I’ll look into a nice, long-term facility. The social worker told me there are several out on Long Island, where she can stay, and I can visit.” Faye began choking up.

  Judy didn’t say a word. She knew that treatment for a nervous breakdown did not require the sort of long-term care Faye was describing. She realized Faye was too embarrassed to tell her the truth, and that made her sad.

  1960-1961

  BELLEROSE, NEW YORK

  IN JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL, THE twins became preoccupied with American Bandstand. They liked to watch the teenagers from Philadelphia dance to rock ’n’ roll records and enjoyed hearing Dick Clark introduce the teen idols, like Frankie Avalon and Fabian, who appeared on the show. They especially enjoyed singing and dancing along. Faye was less than enchanted with the commotion emanating from her living room.

  “This is not real music; it’s just loud noise,” Faye complained to Judy. “Not to mention . . .”

  “Not to mention what?”

  “Come with me,” said Faye. “I want to show you something.”

  Faye led Judy into the living room and pointed to a spot in front of the TV where the girls did their dancing. There was a big patch of rose-colored carpet that had rippled into what looked like a small mound. Then she pointed to another spot where the carpet was so worn, you could almost see the padding underneath.

  “You remember when we got this carpeting?” said Faye. “It’s not even three years old.”