The Dressmaker's Son (14 page)

Rachael laughed.  “Yes,
Jacob,” she said patronizingly.  “Now let Solomon take the children home and
sit with me a while.”

            Jacob did as he was
told.  While they were sitting there they reminisced about Yelizavetgrad and
how their life was in America.  They shared the dinner that was brought for
Rose since she couldn’t eat.  About six o’clock Rose opened her eyes.

            “Jacob?” she asked weakly.

            He went to her bedside.
 “I’m here, Mama.  Can I get you something? Some water?”

            Rose nodded.  Jacob
brought her some water to sip. “Jacob,” she said.  “You’re like a son to me.  I
know you’ll take care of my Rachael, but please,” she pleaded. “Make sure
Rebekah gets home safely with Samuel.”

            “I promise to do all I
can, Mama.”

            Rachael was standing on
the other side of the bed sponging Rose’s brow with a damp cloth.  “We will
take care of Rebekah, Mama,” she said with a husky voice.

            Rose smiled and closed
her eyes, drifting back to sleep.  She never awakened.

CHAPTER 28

It had been almost
three months since Rebekah arrived in St. Petersburg.  She was still learning
her way around and trying to figure out how she would find Samuel. It was hard
to know where someone in Misha’s position might live.  But her spirits were
high and she believed she would be able to find her son.

Work was going
well.  It seemed that Anna, Mr. Volonsky’s secretary, did all the hiring, but
there was another woman, Sarah Jacobson, who was in charge of all the
alteration staff. She was an exceptionally severe woman with jet black hair
pulled back into a bun with nary a stray hair showing.  Her cold ice-blue eyes
could look right through you.  Fortunately for Rebekah, Sarah had no problems
with her work.  In fact, she had brought Rebekah several gowns that another
woman had tried to alter and botched and Rebekah was able to fix them
beautifully.  That bonded the two women.

            One day when Rebekah was
eating lunch in the break room, Sarah came and sat down next to her.  Rebekah
was surprised at this because usually Sarah ate by herself, never fraternizing
with any of the girls in the break room.

            “Mind if I sit with
you, Rebekah?”  She asked as she started to sit.

            “Of course not, Sarah,”
Rebekah replied. “That would be fine.”

            For a few minutes they
were both silent. Rebekah broke the ice. “Sarah,” she asked. “Have you always
lived in Petrograd?”

            For a moment, Sarah was
silent.  Then she answered. “No, I was born in Kiev. We moved to St. Petersburg
when I was about fourteen.  My father had a job opportunity here as an
accountant.  He was very fortunate to have been allowed to be educated at the
university in Kiev. There are restrictions for us at the universities.”

            “What do you mean, ‘For
us’?” Rebekah asked, although she knew she meant for Jews.  It surprised her to
learn that Sarah was Jewish.

            “I am a Jew,” Sarah
replied. “Does that make a difference to you?”

            “Of course not,”
Rebekah answered. “I wasn’t brought up that way.” She wished she could have
told her that she too was a Jew, but she didn’t feel it was wise to reveal her
true identity.

            “I was trained by my
mother as a seamstress,” Sarah continued.  “Because of my father I also got to
take some courses at the university here in St. Petersburg.  When this job
became available someone who knew my father got me an interview and I was hired.
 That was five years ago.  What about you, Larisa?  How did you get to Petrograd?”

Rebekah went
through the story she had manufactured, feeling a little guilty to be lying to
her.

“So you don’t have
any family here?” Sarah asked.  “You must be lonely. Where are you living?”

Rebekah told her
about her apartment.  She was seeing a side of Sarah that she didn’t know
existed. “I have a little kitchen, and I cook,” she told Sarah.  “Maybe one
night after work you can come and I’ll make dinner.”

Sarah was a little
taken back by this.  None of the other girls who worked at the store treated
her as more than their boss or supervisor. “I’d like that, Larisa,” she said.  “Just
let me know when.”

After Rebekah went
back to work Sarah thought to herself, “She is not like the other girls here.  I
can’t put it all together, but there is something different about her.”

Before Rebekah had
a chance to invite Sarah over for dinner, Sarah invited her.

“It will not be a
fancy dinner,” she told Rebekah.  “My father has a meeting to go to, so we will
eat about six.  If you want, you can just go home with me.”

Rebekah accepted
the invitation and looked forward to the end of the week when the dinner would
take place.

When Friday came,
Rebekah left the store with Sarah.  Sarah's mother was in the kitchen when they
got to the apartment.  “Welcome,” she said to Rebekah. “We are happy to have a
friend of Sarah’s visit our home.”

“It was very kind
of you to invite me, Mrs. Jacobson,” Rebekah responded.  “This is my first
social outing since I got to Petrograd.”

“Well, make
yourself comfortable, Larissa,” Sarah’s mother said.  “And, please, call me
Hannah.”

The apartment was
a nice size.  The kitchen accommodated a small table and chairs.  The living
room and dining room were adjoined with the table and chairs at one end and a
seating arrangement at the other.  There were two bedrooms, one of which Sarah
shared with her sister, Malka, who was two years older than her.

When Mr. Jacobson
came home and washed up, everyone was called to dinner.  It smelled delicious
and Rebekah was excited to be having a home-cooked meal.  As they walked to the
table Rebekah noticed the Sabbath candles and the wine on the table.  Sarah
looked at her.  “It’s the Sabbath for us, Larissa; I thought you might enjoy
seeing what our religion is about.”

Rebekah smiled.  “Of
course, Sarah.  It is always interesting to learn about other religions.”

Sarah’s mother
walked over to the candles, put a covering on her head, and said the blessing
over the candles.  Rebekah watched as she waved her hands in a welcoming motion
over the three candles before she lit them.  Rebekah had always been taught
that the number of candles represented the number of children, but Sarah had
only mentioned a sister.

Mr. Jacobson said
the blessing over the wine and then the
motzie
, the blessing over the
challah.  Rebekah said, “Amen” when he finished, and quickly looked around to
see if anyone had noticed.  She wondered if she had said any of the prayer.

Sarah chatted
about work, telling everyone how good Larissa was as a seamstress.  Rebekah
noticed that from time to time Mr. Jacobson was staring at her.

“Daniel, what time
is your meeting tonight?”  Hannah asked her husband.

“Let’s not talk
about my meeting now, Hannah,” he replied glancing at Larissa.

Hannah was taken
back. “Why not, Daniel?”

“Because I said
so, Hannah,” he replied in a stern voice looking directly at Larissa. “Because,”
he continued, “I believe we have an imposter in the house.”

“What on earth are
you talking about, Daniel?’ Hannah asked.

Again Daniel
looked at Larissa. “She is an imposter, Hannah.  She says she’s not Jewish, but
when I said the
motzie
she mouthed the words and said ‘amen.’  Her hair
is really dark.  Look at the roots.  And when she held up her glasses to clean
them, they looked like plain glass.  There was no magnification.”

“Papa,” Sarah
exclaimed. “Why are you being so rude to our guest?”

Before he could
answer, Rebekah spoke up.  She had to decide quickly whether or not to tell
these people the truth.  She decided it was okay.  They were Jews and they
would not turn her in.  “It’s okay, Sarah.  Your papa is right.”

“What do you mean,
Larissa?  How can he be right?”

Sara began slowly.
“I am going to tell you the truth,” she started.  “You are good people.  I feel
I have to trust you.”  Then she proceeded to tell her about Samuel and how
Misha had come and taken him.  She exaggerated a little about their
relationship inferring that Misha had forced her to have sex with him.

“He is my son,”
she concluded. “I have to find him."

The table was
quiet when she finished.  Finally Mr. Jacobson spoke, looking directly at
Rebekah.  “I owe you an apology, Larissa.  But I knew something was wrong.  I
just didn’t know what it was.  We can’t be too careful here as Jews.  Having
grown up in Yelizavetgrad you know what it is like for us.  How do you plan to find
Misha?  What is his last name?”

“No need to
apologize Mr. Jacobson.  I understand how it is.  That’s one of the reasons I
came back in disguise.  I don’t know his last name.  What I do know is that he
is very high up in the military and in the czar’s inner circle.  He also told
me that sometimes he works with the Secret Police.  His wife’s name is
Catherine.  He used to joke that her favorite thing was shopping for new gowns.
 I keep hoping that maybe she will come into the store with Samuel.”

“I’ll keep my eyes
and ears open.  Sometimes the czar’s soldiers try to break up our meetings.  Maybe
someone will know who he is.  What does he look like?”

“Very blonde hair,
big grey eyes, tall and slim.”  

Hannah spoke up. “Let’s
finish up so we can have dessert before Papa has to go.  I baked a cinnamon
cake.  Larissa, please take some more food.  You need your strength.”

“I’m fine, Hannah,”
she replied.  “Thank you all for being so understanding.”

When dinner was
finished, Rebekah insisted that she and Sarah would clean up the dishes. “It’s
the least I can do,” Rebekah said. “You made a wonderful meal.  It made me feel
like I was home.”

“Consider this
your home, Larissa,” Hannah replied.

When Rebekah lay
in bed that night, she felt grateful for having met the Jacobson’s.  Maybe her
luck in Petrograd was changing.

And over the next
few months this proved true.  Rebekah had several dinners with the Jacobson’s.  They
spoke politics and of what were happening in Russia.  The economic state of Petrograd,
which had been good, was deteriorating rapidly.  Strikes were taking place
constantly.  Revolutionary factions such as the Bolsheviks and the Mensheviks
were behind most of what was happening.  Factory workers wanted better
conditions and fewer hours and peasants wanted a more fair way of getting their
own land.  While the czar had created the Duma as a ruling body with elected
members several years earlier to pacify the people, whenever they got close to
making something happen, the czar would close it down.  Most of the members at
the latest Duma, the fourth, were divided between the Bolsheviks who were
really working arduously toward overthrowing the czar, and the Mensheviks who
were working more toward reforms.  The czar shut it down.   It was not unusual
to see outside meetings broken up by the czar’s soldiers or Secret Police.   Suspected
revolutionaries were often arrested and imprisoned.

The war had taken
a terrible toll on Petrograd.  There was beginning to be a severe shortage of
food because trains were being used instead to transport soldiers to and from
the front.  Losses at the front had been staggering with numbers in the hundreds
of thousands, and soldiers were becoming disheartened and deserting in the
cities.  

One day at work
Sarah called Rebekah into her office. “Larissa,” she said anxiously. “Can you
come to dinner tonight?  Papa wants to talk to you.”

             “Of course, Sarah,”
she replied. “Is something wrong?”

            “I really don’t know, Larissa.
 He just asked me to have you come for dinner tonight.”

            “I’ll meet you after we
close, Sarah,” Rebekah said and headed back to work.

            She couldn’t imagine
what Mr. Jacobson had to say to her.  She knew he was involved with the Mensheviks
and had attended many meetings.  Maybe he was in trouble.

            Sarah’s father came in
shortly after Sarah and Rebekah got there.  Rebekah could hardly wait to hear what
he wanted to tell her.  Finally they all sat down to dinner.  Mr. Jacobson
looked at Rebekah.

            “Rebekah,” he started.  “Tell
me again what Misha looks like.”

            Rebekah stopped eating
and put down her fork. “He is tall with blonde hair and large grey eyes,” she
replied.

“Last night I was
asking some men again if they had ever seen a man of that description.  One of
them said yes.  He had seen him at a large meeting at the train station over a
year ago.  By the time the second speaker got up to speak, a band of several
soldiers rode up on horseback.  Their leader fit your description of Misha.  He
announced that the czar ordered this meeting disbanded.  Then the other men
rode through the middle of the crowd to disperse it.  Some waved swords threatening
the people.  Interestingly, this Misha, if it was him, just stood to the side.  Then
as the people dispersed, he rode away leaving the others to make sure everyone
left.”

 “I asked if that
was the only time they had seen him, and they said no, that he was an officer
of the czar, and they had seen him leading soldiers to break up other meetings.
 Two of the men said they would ask around to see if they could find out his
name.  They know people who work at the palace.”

Rebekah was
excited to think she might have her first clue into Misha’s identity, but she
feared that this could mean trouble for Mr. Jacobson.  She was quiet for a
minute.  Finally she said, “Mr. Jacobson, that’s wonderful.  It would be so
good if I can finally track him down.  But I am worried that you might be
putting you and even your family at risk doing this.”

“Don’t worry about
that, Rebekah.  These men know what I do.  Maybe if we’re lucky we can find out
where he lives.  Then maybe we can help you formulate a plan and get you out of
here.”

“I’m so grateful
to you and your family, Mr. Jacobson,” Rebekah responded, tears coming to her
eyes. “You have made me feel so at home.  I can never repay your kindness.”

“Find your little
Samuel and get back to America, Larissa. That will be payment enough for us.”