Eli's Promise

by Ronald H. Balson

Eli licked his lips. “This cake is fabulous. Funny how food can bring back strong memories.”

  “Back in Lublin,” Mimi said, “did your grandma bake babka?”

  “Yes, she did, and so did my wife.”

  “Sometimes my grandma twists the dough into little rolls with cinnamon and chocolate like…”

  “Rugalach,” said Eli, finishing the sentence.

  “Right,” said Mimi. “Is that what your grandma did?”

  Another momentary lapse as Eli’s eyes saw something far away. He took a deep breath and said, “Mostly my wife. She was the baker.”

  Mimi decided not to pry any further.

  “Will you share a piece of this delicious cake and a cup of coffee with me, Mimi?”

  “I wish I could, but I’m off to a party. Maybe another time, Mr. Rosen. The congressman’s daughter just got engaged and he’s throwing a big bash for her. I’m covering it for the Tribune.”

  Eli raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you’re a reporter?”

  Mimi smiled. “A staff reporter. I’ve only been there for a year and a half. I’m trying to save up a little money and get my own place.”

  Eli nodded. “The Tribune’s a fine newspaper. Would we be talking about Congressman Zielinski? Is this his party at the VFW?”

  “Yes, how did you know? Were you invited?”

  Eli smiled. “Invited? No. I must have read about it somewhere. Witold ‘Vittie’ Zielinski, the U.S. congressman for this district, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  “I’m not sure. We may have met many years ago, if he’s the man I’m thinking of. He’s been a congressman for a long time, hasn’t he?”

  “Yes, almost twenty years. He’s the chair of the House Armed Services Committee. Very influential in Washington, and he’s the father of Christine Zielinski, who’s a very good friend of mine.”

  Eli smiled. “Well, off with you then. If you’re not too late or too tired, knock on my door on your way upstairs and we’ll share a slice of babka and coffee. I’d love to hear about the congressman and his party. I understand that several dignitaries and influential people will be there as well.”

  “That’s what I hear. Good night, Mr. Rosen.”

  Eli closed his door, smiled and thought, The longest journey begins but with a single step.

  He cut a slice of babka and carried it to the coffee table. In the silence of the room, he took a bite, closed his eyes and let his mind return to the Lublin he knew before the apocalypse. The sounds, the sights, the smells—they all returned to him so easily.

  Eli smiled at his memories. If they had known, right then and there, would it have made any difference? Could they have avoided the inevitable? Would he have made wiser decisions, better plans, listened to better advice, had clearer foresight? Most of all, would he have ever placed his trust in a man so vile as Maximilian Poleski? All moot questions now. His heart beat heavily, and his eyes filled with tears.

  He sat in the dark with his coffee, his babka and his promise.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHICAGO VFW

  ALBANY PARK NEIGHBORHOOD

  MAY 1965

  The gray cement walls of the Wilson Avenue VFW were colorfully decorated for Congressman Zielinski’s party, all in harmony with the upcoming Memorial Day. Red, white and blue bunting draped from the interior cornices. American flags were posted about the perimeter and on either side of the well-worn wooden stage. A large banner, in muted shades of red, white and blue, reading CONGRATULATIONS PRESTON AND CHRISTINE, was draped above the stage, where a band was playing swing music. Some of the guests were dancing.

  Mimi had a small notebook, and from time to time she would jot notes to herself: quick descriptions she planned to use in her society piece. She made a note of Mayor Daley standing off to the left of the stage talking to Alderman Becker. She jotted that a long reception line had formed, waiting for the opportunity to shake hands with Congressman Zielinski. She wrote “The Congressman stood regally in his black tuxedo.” Mimi especially liked her tagline: “Royalty deigns to greet its courtiers.”

  She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and a voice from behind said, “Hey, Meems, how is Brenda Starr, ace reporter, doing tonight?”

  Mimi smiled. “Brenda is doing just fine, thank you.”

  Nathan Stone, broad shouldered and handsome in his dark blue suit, white shirt and narrow black tie, had a drink in his hand and a smile on his face. “Doesn’t the Trib give you a day off?”

  “I volunteered. If I’m lucky, I might get a byline Sunday. Who did you come with tonight?”

  He grinned. “Ah, a trick question. I came alone. knowing you would be here.” He looked around the hall. “This is like a high school reunion, don’t you think? Preston and Christine together as always, Ricky Lofton’s standing over there telling jokes, Myrna’s already slurring her words and the party hasn’t even begun. It’s a replay of the Von Steuben homecoming dance, except that the homecoming king and queen are really getting married. Where is Christine? I don’t see her.”

  Mimi scanned the room and shrugged. “I don’t see her either.”

  Mimi gazed at the corner, where three men were talking and punctuating their remarks with pointed fingers. She jotted a few notes. Nathan tipped his head toward the congressman. “The great Vittie Zielinski. What is it now, twelve, thirteen elections he’s won? He must have more seniority than anyone in Congress.”

  “Pretty close,” Mimi said. “The man he’s whispering to is Senator Paul Douglas, and I’ll wager it’s about the voting rights bill. Vittie’s a cosponsor.”

  “Who’s the guy standing with him?” Nathan pointed at a thin, bald man with rimless glasses.

  “That’s Vittie’s chief of staff, Mike Stanley,” Mimi said. “He’s been with Vittie a long time. Christine says her dad won’t make a move without Mike. She says he always stays in the background, but he’s really the brains in the congressional office.”

  “Preston told me he doesn’t like Stanley.”

  “Seriously? Stanley makes all the staff decisions and runs the congressional office. Preston wouldn’t have a job if weren’t for Mike Stanley.”

  “Preston has a job because he’s engaged to Vittie’s daughter,” Nathan said. “He’s been a good friend of mine since grade school, but let’s not fool ourselves. All Preston does is greet people when they come into the neighborhood office. He listens to their complaints and writes them down. He doesn’t like Stanley because Stanley treats him like a coffee boy and orders him around. Don’t tell him I said that.”

  “Okay,” Mimi said, “I’m going to go find Chrissie.”

  Nathan headed toward the bar. Preston saw him coming and gave him a thumbs-up.

  “Great party, Pres,” Nathan said.

  “My future father-in-law spares no expense.” Turning to the bartender, he said, “A shot of Jack and a beer; one for me and one for my buddy.” Preston downed the shot, took a swig of beer and pointed to a group of naval recruits in their dress whites. “Look over there, Nate. All those guys came down today from Great Lakes Naval Base. Vittie brought them in to present the colors. It gives me the chills. Those poor suckers will soon be shipping off to Nam.”

  Nathan shook his head. “They’re not suckers, Preston. They enlisted. I give those guys a lot of credit.”

  “They enlisted because they knew that sooner or later they’d be drafted. Bottom line, within six months they’ll be loading and unloading ships in Cam Ranh Bay. Anyway, that won’t be my problem.”

  “What makes you so sure? It’s a universal draft. So far, you’ve been lucky; you haven’t been called up.”

  “They don’t draft married men. Single guys have to go first.”

  “You’re not married yet.”

  “I will be in November. Besides, I got an ace in the hole. I work for the most powerful man on the House Armed Services Committee. Did you ever think about that? Vittie doesn’t want his son-in-law shipping off to Vietnam
. He wants me home taking care of his lovely daughter.” He leaned over and said, “Christine comes with fringe benefits.” Then he laughed and slapped Nathan on the back.

  Mimi and Christine entered the hall, and Preston put down his drink. “Here comes my one and only.” He lifted Christine and twirled her around. “Where have you been all night? Everyone’s been asking. You better not have been talking to Fast Nicky.”

  Christine put her hand on her hip and huffed. “I’ve been talking to Mimi! And you’ve been too busy talking to all your drinking buddies to pay attention to me. I want to dance.”

  “Me, too,” Mimi said, taking Nathan’s arm.

  Away from Preston and Christine, Nathan said, “Do you know who Fast Nicky is?”

  Mimi nodded. “Nicholas Bryant, Chrissie’s boss at Bryant Shipping. He’s the guy over there, the one in the checkered blazer. He’s some kind of business associate of Vittie’s.”

  “Oh, well then, Preston doesn’t like him either. He thinks he’s too friendly with Christine. He makes her work late a couple nights a week.”

  Mimi smiled. “Pres is jealous.”

  “True. Preston doesn’t like the fact that Christine spends so much time with him. Maybe he’s jealous, maybe he’s just protective, but Preston is flat-out nuts about Chrissie.”

  “And she’s nuts about him. Just look at the two of them. They melt into each other and dance as though they were one. Perfect together. They truly do love each other.”

  “They’d better—they’re about to get married.”

  * * *

  It was ten thirty when the band played a soft rendition of Etta James’s “At Last” and the VFW’s lights blinked off and on. Mimi phoned her story into the Trib, and Nathan offered to walk her home. He pointed to her notebook. “Did you get everything you need?”

  “And then some. All the rich and famous. I wish I had a fraction of the money that was in that room tonight. Did you see Grant Thomas, chairman of the board of National Steel? Or Lloyd Davis of Northern Aeronautics?”

  Nathan shrugged. “I wouldn’t know either one of them. I’m surprised they all showed up at an engagement party in a neighborhood VFW.”

  Mimi’s eyebrows raised. “They’re here to pay homage to the eminent Vittie Zielinski. Each of those men represents a major military contractor. The business their companies do with the Department of Defense is in the billions.”

  They reached Mimi’s building and stopped to say good night at the bottom of the front steps. Nathan cleared his throat. “So, um, are you busy next Saturday?”

  Mimi smiled. “Nope.”

  “Maybe a movie? Want to see Zorba the Greek?”

  “Sounds great.”

  Nathan pointed to lights coming from the first-floor window. “Does your mom have a new tenant?”

  She nodded. “Mr. Rosen. My mom thinks he’s a spy.” Mimi giggled mischievously and bit her bottom lip. “Do you want to meet him?”

  “Meems, it’s almost eleven o’clock.”

  “I know, but he told me that if he was up, I should stop in for coffee and a piece of cake. His light’s still on. Come on, I’ll knock softly. You can meet James Bond. If he’s asleep, we’ll go away.”

  Eli opened the door after a couple of knocks. “I’m so glad you stopped by. Your grandmother’s babka must have been calling your name, am I right?”

  “I confess. It’s true. This is my good friend, Nathan Stone.”

  Eli showed them into the living room and offered them a seat on the couch while he made a pot of coffee. Mimi gazed around the room. The furniture appeared to be newly purchased and utilitarian. Functional. Nothing fancy. Nothing that bespoke the personality of the tenant, with the exception of two framed photographs: a small, faded black-and-white picture of a woman and a child in a silver frame that sat on an end table and a black-and-white photo of an odd-shaped building that hung above the sofa table. She walked over to take a closer look. It appeared to be an office building, at least five stories tall, with columns in the front and a decorative capstone over the entranceway. There were Hebrew letters scrolled above the doorway. Standing in the front of the building was a short man in a wide-brimmed hat.

  “That is my father, Jakob Rosen, at the Lublin yeshiva,” Eli said as he set a coffee service on the table. “The picture was taken in 1930. My father and grandfather built that building.”

  “I’m sorry to say I don’t know much about Lublin or the yeshiva,” Mimi said. “Maybe someday I’ll visit.”

  Eli poured three cups of coffee. “The Lublin you’d visit today would bear little resemblance to the Lublin I knew before the war. My family lived in the Jewish quarter, not too far from that building. Back then, the Jewish community was vibrant and comprised a third of the city. We had twelve synagogues and two Jewish newspapers. To me, I thought the whole world was like that. I didn’t know any different. Everyone spoke Yiddish. Do you know any Yiddish, Mimi?”

  “A bissel.”

  Eli chuckled. “Of course, your grandmother is from Lodz. That was a big city—over six hundred thousand people, and a third of them were Jewish as well. I traveled to Lodz many times for business. And then…” He paused as a breath caught in his chest. Another one of those times, thought Mimi. A momentary digression. And just as quickly, Eli returned to the present and said, “And then for other reasons. Anyway, that was a long time ago.”

  Some powerful memories must be tugging on him, thought Mimi, and someday I’m going to find out his secret. The reporter in me knows there’s a story buried here. Wouldn’t that be something to write?

  Eli sliced three pieces of babka and set them out on his coffee table. Mimi broke the silence. “A few minutes ago, if I said something that made you uncomfortable, Mr. Rosen, I am sorry. I apologize.”

  “No, no. Please don’t be sorry. You said nothing wrong. A couple of things went through my mind, that’s all. You asked about Lublin, and before the war it was a wonderful place to live and work. My family had been Lubliners for generations. We always said we built the famous Grodzka Gate in the year 1357.” He smiled. “I can’t personally vouch for that. Anyway, after the Nazi occupation, everything that it stood for was no more. No more yeshiva, no more Grodzka Gate, no more Jewish quarter, no more Lublin Jews. Barely two hundred of our people survived.”

  He shook his head, turned and said, “Forgive me for running on. It’s a bad habit of mine. Now I work for the federal government, and I am a brand new resident of Albany Park. Tell me, how was the congressman’s party tonight?”

  “Lavish,” Mimi said. “It was crowded and filled with politicians and businessmen.”

  Nathan made a face, and Eli said, “I take it you don’t agree.”

  “Oh, it was lavish and crowded,” Nathan said, “but it was a Vittie Zielinski production, more of a political rally than an engagement party. It shouldn’t have been that kind of party. It should have been a celebration of two young people who have announced they are going to get married. For me, it was cold and impersonal.”

  Mimi nodded. “That’s true. It was all about the congressman, not the couple.”

  “You’re writing the story for the Tribune, aren’t you Mimi?” Eli said. “Will you be expressing that opinion? Cold and impersonal? Businesslike?” He had a glint in his eye. “After all, you’re a reporter. Aren’t you going to report the truth?”

  Mimi scoffed. “Who are you kidding? Write those things about Vittie Zielinski? Where would I be working tomorrow?”

  “Didn’t you make notes of all the politicians and businessmen that attended? Deals made? Smoky backroom politics? I think it would make for spicy reading.”

  Mimi smiled. “I made notes and there was plenty of that going on, but my story will be printed in the society pages. My readers will be more interested in what the women were wearing and what dishes were served.”

  “I would love to read the real story,” Eli said. “I’d be far more interested in which politicians and captains of industry were in a
ttendance.”

  Mimi raised an eyebrow and thought, I bet you would.

  “Will you write that story for me?” Eli said.

  Mimi stood. “Well, maybe someday, Mr. Rosen.”

  “I’ll hold you to it. Good night, Miss Gold.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHICAGO

  ALBANY PARK NEIGHBORHOOD

  JUNE 1965

  The doorbell rang and Mimi heard her mother call, “Nathan’s here.”

  “About time,” Mimi said. She came out of the back bedroom with a light sweater over her shoulder, kissed her mom on the cheek and took Nathan’s arm. “I’ll be home late tonight; we’re meeting Christine and Preston at the Earl of Old Town. Chrissie said they have an important announcement to make.”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t on time,” Nathan said, opening the door for her. “Mr. Rosen was sitting on the front stoop when I arrived. He remembered me from last month, and I stopped for a minute to chat with him. He was reading the Tribune and the headline said that fifty thousand more GIs were being sent to Vietnam. I told him my brother had been drafted and was headed out to Fort Dix. When I said that, his expression changed. He looked concerned. Sympathetic.”

  “Well, obviously he’s been through a war.”

  “I know. He wished Billy well and said he would pray for him.”

  “He’s a nice man,” Mimi said.

  “I told him we were going to meet up with Preston and Christine tonight, and right away he started asking me about the engagement party and Congressman Zielinski. Did I know him very well? Had I been to his office? How did Preston like working for him? Did I know any of the other members of his staff? He sure seemed curious.”

  “I get the same feeling,” Mimi said. “He’s asked me about him as well. He wants to know who was at the party. What politicians, what businessmen, what military contractors. It’s more than just a passive curiosity. I wonder if the FBI is investigating Vittie?”

  Nathan laughed. “Do you still think Mr. Rosen is with the FBI?”

  Mimi shrugged. “Mom does. Or maybe she thinks it’s the CIA. He doesn’t appear to keep regular hours or even a regular job that he goes to every day.”