The Smallest Crack

by Roberta Kagan

  Eli was angry with his father, but he did not dare raise his voice to him. When the old rebbe was angry, Eli thought he looked like Moses coming down from Mount Sinai.

  As he walked along, trying not to hear the thugs coming up behind him, Eli was forced out of his thoughts and back into the present moment. One of the thugs called out to him, “Hey, kike!”

  Eli felt his heartbeat quicken. His breath grew shallow, but he kept walking. A bead of sweat trickled down his face, and he shivered lightly. There were several of them, but it was dark, and he wasn’t sure how many. If he turned to look at them long enough to count them, they would know he was aware of them and that he was afraid. He knew from past experience when animals smelled fear, they attacked.

  “What’s with the curls on the side of your face? You a faggot? Are you some kind of a little girl? You sure look like one to me,” one of the boys said. The rest of them let out hearty laughter.

  Eli picked up speed. But like dogs, the thugs sensed his fear. They came out from the darkness of the alleyway and began to circle him. He dared not run. If he did, he knew that whatever they did to him would be worse.

  “Eric, take your knife and cut off those curls. I want them for my collection of Jew stuff,” said a boy who seemed to be the leader.

  Eric took a knife out of his pocket and approached Eli. Eli had been taught never to fight. No matter what was said to him, he was to be passive. However, at that moment, Eli’s instincts took over, and he smacked the knife out of the boy’s hand. He pushed his way through the group of angry, red-faced boys hungry for his blood.

  For a second, he almost believed they were going to let him go. He walked several steps ahead, and they did not pursue him. Every nerve in his body wanted to take flight and run as fast as he could, but he dared not.

  Walk, he told himself, but his feet seemed unable to move quickly enough to satisfy his mind. His body was trembling with fear.

  Could it be possible that they would let him get away this easily? This painlessly? He began to thank God. But then the leader said in a loud bellowing voice, “Get him.”

  In an instant, five strong young boys were upon him. He punched and kicked, but there were too many of them. Although they were kicking him and punching him, Eli strangely felt no pain. He was too fired up with anger. Then Eric, the leader’s right-hand man, grabbed Eli’s head and slammed it hard on the concrete. This time the blow was so harsh that Eli felt a sharp and unbearable pain shoot through his entire body. His vision blurred. He passed out.

  When Eli awakened, he was covered in blood. His face was sore, and his head ached. He reached up to touch his bruised cheek and found that his sideburns were gone. They had been cut. Looking across the lawn he saw them. His hat had been hurled across the grass, and his coat was torn. When he tried to sit up, he was dizzy, and a strong bout of nausea overcame him. He curled over and vomited.

  Afterward, he forced himself to stand up. Eli gathered his hat and his payot, which he put into his pants pocket. Then slowly, he began walking home. He’d never felt so much pain. Every inch of his body hurt. But what worried him the most was what his father would say when he saw him. Eli had run out of his house to walk the girl home. A non-Jewish girl, and this was what happened. His father would be furious with him. That was for certain. He would blame Eli for having contact with people outside of their neighborhood. And right now, Eli was thinking that perhaps his father was right.

  But despite what just happened, Eli still couldn’t help wanting to know more about Gretchen. What an interesting girl she was. He finally met a girl who was not in awe of him just because he was a man, and his father was the rebbe. She was not only ravishingly beautiful, but she was smart and wanted to learn about things other than cooking and childcare. According to every teacher he ever had, that was wrong for a woman. But it enticed him.

  Eli knew that even though he’d been beaten up, and it was probably a sign that he was on the wrong path, he would still show up for his meeting with Gretchen. Oddly enough, when he thought about her, his limbs tingled with pleasure, and all the pain in his body disappeared.

  Oh, what power the human mind possesses, he thought smiling.

  On his way home he stopped at the bathroom in the park to wash away the blood. He knew his parents would be upset when they saw him. He did the best he could, but there was no hiding that he had been beaten, and his payot had been cut.

  “What happened to you?” his mother said when he walked into the house.

  “I’m all right,” Eli answered.

  “You’re not all right. Look at you! Oy vey! You’re bruised and bleeding. Asher, come quickly. Eli has been hurt,” his mother yelled to his father who was in his study in the back of the house.

  “I’m coming, Chenya,” his father answered. Slowly, the rebbe walked into the room. When he saw his son, he shook his head. “You went out after that shiksa, didn’t you? What happened? Did her father or brother beat you up?”

  “No.”

  “I am sure you know that I was disappointed that you went out of the house after her. I called for you to come back. Didn’t you hear me?”

  “I wrote inside my book that if it were ever lost, I would reward the person who returned it. I wanted to give her the reward money that I promised.”

  “You were gone a lot longer than the five minutes it should have taken you. You could have handed her the money and come right back inside, but you didn’t. You went somewhere.”

  “Papa, it’s dangerous for a girl to walk home alone in the dark. She did me a favor returning my very precious and expensive book. I thought that walking her home was the least I could do.”

  The old rebbe studied his son. For several moments he didn’t speak. Then he put his arms around Eli and held him for a long time. “Thanks be to Hasheem that you are alive,” he whispered.

  “Yes, Father,” Eli said, thinking that his father’s reaction was not what he expected. He thought his father would be angry, but he seemed frightened. “Stay away from the goyim, Eli. You are going to get into trouble. Look what happened to you. Need I say more? Your cheek is cut; your eyes are bloodshot. They cut off your payot. I hope this is over with you and that shiksa now. You’re a smart boy, so I know you are not going to see her again, are you?”

  “No, Papa,” Eli lied and felt a wave of guilt come over him. He could feel the power of his father’s love for him. And he wished he could be the son his father deserved. But regardless of what happened, Eli knew he would not stop seeing Gretchen, the girl who wasn’t afraid to speak to him.

  “See to it that you don’t ever talk to that girl again or any other shiksas. Do you understand me?”

  “I understand you, Father,” Eli said.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  That night, as Eli lay in bed, he overheard his parents talking in their room.

  “It’s time he should be married, Chenya. He’s going to get into trouble as sure as I am standing here. Shiksas are trouble, and one of them has her sinful eye on our son. We have to find him a wife, so his natural desires don’t take over and get him involved in something he shouldn’t be involved in. He’s getting too old to be without a wife.”

  “But he doesn’t accept any of the girls you bring. He is so stubborn.”

  “I don’t care what he wants anymore. He will do as I say. I know what is best for that boy. After all, he is my son.”

  “You are going to force him to marry?”

  “I am. I am going to force him because it is what is best for him. And I know the girl that I will choose as his wife.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Rebecca Kesselman was peeling potatoes when her father came home early from the shul. He smiled at her.

  “Hello, Tate,” she said, happy as always to see him. She still called him Tate, her childhood name for him.

  “Hello, my angel,” he said. “Where is your mother?”

  “She went to the butcher shop.”

  “Nu, so what are you cooking?�
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  “A potato kugel. Mama is going to try and get some chicken fat to make chopped liver. Are you hungry? We have a small piece of strudel that you could have. It would hold you until dinner.”

  “You didn’t eat your piece last night. I saw.”

  “I saved it for you, Tate. You love sweets. I know this about you, and I don’t care much for them.”

  “What a good daughter you are. I have good news for you. I was going to tell your mother first, but since she isn’t home, I’ll tell you.”

  Rebecca pulled the plate with the small piece of strudel out of the pantry and took a fork from the cabinet. She set them both down in front of her father. “You want some tea?”

  “No, no, this is plenty good,” her father said as he lifted a fork full of the strudel.

  “Well, Tate . . . tell me. What’s the news?”

  “Patience, my child.” He laughed.

  “Come on, Tate . . .”

  “All right. All right. Sit, I’ll tell you.”

  As an unmarried woman, Rebecca was not required to cover her head. But she covered it most of the time anyway. Tonight, while she was cooking, her scarf fell back, and several strands of her light-blonde hair fell out. She pushed them back under her scarf and sat on the stool beside her father. “Tell me, please?” She smiled at him.

  “You have been chosen to be a bride. Eli Kaetzel, Rabbi Kaetzel’s only son, is interested in you, my beautiful daughter.”

  Rebecca turned as white as the dove outside her window. This was not good news at all. She wanted to be happy. She really did. But she was only fifteen, and she had hoped that her father wouldn’t find her a match for another year. But, of course, if the boy was considered a good match, and this one was, then fifteen was a perfect age. If a girl wanted to be respectable, she should marry by seventeen. But Rebecca loved her home, her parents, and her sweet little sister. If she got married, she could no longer live with her family. She would have to move in with his. She didn’t want to leave her home, not yet. She wanted to wait as long as possible. She looked at her father and for his sake, tried to look happy.

  “You are not pleased?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I am, Tate. I am,” she said, but tears began to well in the corners of her eyes.

  “How about you meet him, and then we decide? How does that sound? If you don’t like him, you will refuse.”

  Her father was such a kind and good man. He would never force her, but she loved her father so much that she would never want to disappoint him. So if he liked this boy, Eli, she would marry him. She would do what was expected of her. She always did what was required. For as long as she could remember, Rebecca knew the day would come when her marriage would be arranged. And because she was a Kohane, she was a good catch. She would be sought after by many fathers of prospective chazens, grooms. It was an honor for a man to marry his son off to the daughter of a Kohane, a high priest of the Jewish faith.

  Up until now, her father had rejected all possible suitors, and she began to hope that she could spend one more year as a single girl in the warm, protective home of her parents. But the rebbe's son was not just a good match—it was probably the best match any girl could hope for. Looking into her father’s eyes, Rebecca knew that he was excited about the possibility of her marriage to the rebbe's son. She would go along with his choice even though the thought of getting married and leaving her family made her sick to her stomach.

  “I’ll do as you say, Tate. Whatever you decide.”

  “You’ve always been such a good girl. Like I said before, we won’t make any quick decisions. We’ll wait until you meet him, then we’ll decide together.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  After her father finished his small piece of strudel, he got up and left the room.

  “I’m going to lie down for a little while before dinner.”

  “Go on, Tate,” Rebecca said, and she mustered a wry smile. But as soon as she was alone in the kitchen, tears fell down her cheeks. A husband. I don’t want to get married. I wish I could just stay a little girl forever. I don’t know anything about this boy. He could be fat; he could be ugly or mean. But the worst of it is, once I am married, I can never return to my old way of life.

  Rebecca couldn’t bear the news of this possible match all alone. She longed to speak to someone she could trust, someone she could share her honest feelings with. She walked out of her family’s apartment and dashed up the stairs to the flat where her best friend, Esther, lived. She knocked on the door and tried to catch her breath before Esther’s mother opened it.

  “Rivka!” Esther’s mother called Rebecca by her Hebrew name. “You look disheveled. Nu? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Rebecca tried to smile. “Is Esther here?”

  “Of course, where else would she be?” Esther’s mother looked at Rebecca suspiciously. “Nothing is wrong? You look like you have been crying, and you’re out of breath. Nu? What is it?” she asked again.

  “Nothing is wrong. I was carrying a heavy basket of laundry, so I am out of breath a little bit. I don’t know why my eyes are tearing.”

  “All right, then, Rivka. Come on in,” Esther’s mother said. “Esther, Rivka is here.”

  Esther came running out of one of the rooms in the back of the flat. “Rivka!” She hugged her friend. “Come sit with me while I do my work. I am washing the floors in the back of the house.”

  Rebecca smiled at Esther, but she couldn’t help noticing the bruise that was turning yellow on Esther’s cheek.

  “I’ll help you,” Rebecca said.

  Esther’s mother nodded in approval, and both girls headed back toward the bedroom.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Esther said. “You haven’t been here to see me for almost a week.”

  “I know. I am sorry. I couldn’t get out. My parents had a million chores for me to do,” Rebecca said as she squeezed Esther’s hand. “I missed you too. I missed you so much. You’re the closest person in the world to me. The only person I completely trust.”

  “Me too,” Esther said.

  “What happened to your face?” Rebecca asked gently touching the bruise.

  Esther shrugged.

  “Come on, you can tell me. I’m your best friend."

  “My papa hit me again. He was in a rage. He said it was because I am so ugly. He said he can’t find me a husband.”

  “You are not ugly. You’re beautiful. He can’t find you a husband because he has a reputation for being a drunk. He’s blaming you.”

  “Yes, I know. But I am not in any hurry to get married. I am afraid a husband might be as bad as my father, or worse yet.”

  “You don’t have to tell me, Esther. I know he hits your mother too.”

  “He does.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t ever tell anyone else but you, Rivka. You’re the only person I know I can trust with our terrible family secrets.”

  “Oh, Esther! Of course, you can always trust me.”

  “You look sad today. Is it because of me? I hate to make you sad,” Esther said.

  “It’s not you, Esther. Although it breaks my heart to see your lovely face bruised. I hate to think that your father has hurt you. But the truth is, I have terrible news of my own today.”

  “What is it?” Esther said, closing the door to the back bedroom.

  “My Tate has found me a husband. I am sure he will insist I marry this boy. Then I will be going away from here. I don’t know where I will be going or how far away I will be from you. I don’t even know when I will be able to see you.”

  “No!”

  Rebecca nodded as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.

  Esther put her arms around Rebecca and held her close. “Rivka, no matter who they make me marry, you will always be my one true love.”

  “I know, Esther. I know. But your feelings for me are forbidden.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can stop feeling them, does it?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “Est
her, I love you too. But your feelings for me are different than mine for you. I can’t love you the way you want me to. I can’t love you the way a man and woman love each other. I am not made that way.”

  “I wish I were a man, then I could marry you.”

  “I know you do, Esther. But you’re not.”

  “I wish you could love me. I wish you could love me as a woman.”

  “For your sake, I wish so too. But I can’t. And what I do know is that right now I am scared of marriage to a complete stranger. I am scared of failing my new husband and how much that would disappoint my Tate. And sweet Esther, my oldest and dearest friend . . . I am terrified of hurting you, of breaking your heart. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Eli could hardly wait until his next meeting with Gretchen. He thought of her outspokenness and her bold, sparkling blue eyes while he was in class at the yeshiva. Just the thought of her brought a smile to his face. Just thinking of her intrigued him. No girl from his community would ever question the existence of God. They would never ask him questions about the Talmud or the Torah either. If he had spoken to any of the girls he knew the way he spoke to Gretchen, they would listen quietly and agree with anything he said. But Gretchen had voiced her opinion as if she were a boy. He thought of her pretty hair, the way the golden strands were tinted with just a hint of rose. How would it feel to run his hands through her locks? He remembered how her eyes looked like blue topaz in the rays of the setting sun.

  “I have good news, Eli,” Rabbi Kaetzel said when he returned from the shul late that afternoon. “I have arranged for you to meet a potential bride tonight. She will be coming to our home with her parents for dinner. Her name is Rebecca Kesselman. Do you know of her?”

  “No, Father. I am sorry. I don’t.”

  “Well, that doesn’t matter. Of course, you wouldn’t have heard of her. You’re at the yeshiva all day. How would you meet any girls? I don’t know why I even asked you that. Well, never mind. Anyway, she’s a good girl from a good family. She would be quite a match for you. She’s the daughter of a Kohane. Her father is a well-respected man. I hope she likes you. Be on your best behavior. Do you understand me?” The rabbi’s face was stern, and the wrinkles in his brow were deep.