The Dressmaker's Son (19 page)

CHAPTER 40

It was four weeks
before Misha arrived in Petrograd.  He went straight to see Boris.  Misha
saluted his father-in-law when he came into the room.  Boris was a general and
Misha knew that he had to greet him first in that realm.  Boris saluted back.  “Have
a seat, Misha. You must be tired from the trip.”

            Misha took a seat in
one of the two chairs facing Boris’s desk.  “It was long, sir.  The railway
system is slow and the cars are packed with soldiers going or coming back.”

            Boris sighed.  “I know,
Misha.  We are doing all we can.  The czar himself plans to lead a battalion to
the front.”

            Misha changed the
subject.  “Have you been able to arrange for me to be transferred to the Secret
Police?”

            “Not yet.  I have been
thinking, Misha.  You are a good soldier, a natural leader.  Now is not the
time to desert your country.  Country must come first.  You will have time to
look for your son.”

            Misha tried to control
his temper.  “Respectfully, sir, I cannot agree.  He is my only son.  I can’t
let him be taken away from me.”

            “But what about loyalty
to your country?  Your honor?  How can you think only of yourself and put
yourself above your country?”

            “I do love my country,
Boris.  As a member of the Secret Police I can still help, but I must find my
son at any cost. Look what is happening here.  Who knows what this war will
bring to Russia?  Already we have lost hundreds of thousands and have twice as
many wounded at the Western front.  And for what?  To stand with Serbia to
expand our empire?  Our people are not united in this war.  Petrograd is filled
with factions looking to overthrow the czar.  There is unrest among our
soldiers.  Less and less food is coming into the city.  People are moving to
the country to avoid going into the army and to be able to raise their own food.
 I’ll do what I can to protect our country, but I must look for my son.”

            “Have it your way,
Misha.  You are throwing away a brilliant career.  But I will get you transferred
to the Secret Police.  It will mean a demotion from major to captain.”

            “I understand, sir.”

            Misha rose and saluted
Boris. “Thank you, sir.  And now I must go and see Catherine.  I imagine she is
not in very good shape.”

            Boris gave him a quick
salute.  “She will be glad to see you, but don’t be too tough on her Misha.  This
has been very hard on her.”

            Catherine was sitting
in the living room sipping a cup of tea when Misha walked in.  She almost
leaped from the chair and into his arms sobbing.

            “It wasn’t my fault,
Misha.  You know we always let him go to the store with Anna.  She would never
let anything happen to him, but that bitch was clever.  She plied him with some
chocolates and by the time Anna turned around they were gone.”

            Misha pushed her gently
away.  “Sit down, Catherine.  I do not blame you for what happened.  That ‘bitch,’
as you call her, is very clever.  She probably planned this for quite a while.  God
knows how long she had been watching this house.”

            Catherine sat down and
pulled herself together.  She couldn’t believe Misha was not angry with her.  It
had been her biggest fear. “What will we do, Misha?”

            “First you will tell me
everything you know about what happened.  I will check with your father to see
what he has done.  Then I will make a plan to find my son."

CHAPTER 41

After speaking to
Boris and hearing Catherine’s story of what had occurred, Misha interviewed
Anna.  Her description of Rebekah, despite the red hair, was accurate.  Her
eyes could be picked out from hundreds of others; the color, size and lush
black lashes made them very unique.  Then he interviewed Peter at the grocery
store.  He seemed very intimidated, but Misha assured him it was not his fault.
 There was little else to go on except where the taxi driver dropped Rebekah
and Samuel off. The next most logical step was to canvas the homes in that area.
Although Boris tried to assure him that his people had done that, Misha felt he
needed to retrace their steps.  Armed with the spot where Rebekah and Samuel
had last been seen, he started canvassing building by building, floor by floor.
 He knew Rebekah would have been smart enough to have the taxi driver drop her
off several streets from where she was really going.

He had been doing
this for three days when he knocked on the Jacobson’s door.  Sarah’s sister
Malka answered the door. She was a rather ordinary looking girl with mousy
brown hair and brown cow-eyes.  Tall and painfully thin, she was wearing a non-descript,
brown dress. “Yes?” she asked when she opened the door and saw Misha.

            He was wearing his
military police uniform.  “I’m looking for a woman and a little boy,” he
started. “Her name is Rebekah and the little boy’s name is Mish..”  He stopped
in the middle. “Samuel.”

            Malka had had very
little interaction with Rebekah, maybe dinner once or twice.  She was very busy
with her job and her involvement in political organizations.  She vaguely
remembered something about a little boy, but she had not been there the night
Rebekah and Samuel came there and were set on their journey.  “Why do you need
her?” she asked Misha.

            “I’m sorry to say I
have bad news.  Her brother has been killed in the war. It is my job to notify
her and find out where to send the body,” Misha lied.      

“How awful,” Malka
said.  Then she turned toward the interior of the house, “Mama,” she yelled,
“What was the name of the woman who used to come here and was looking for her
little boy?”

            Hannah came running to
the door.  When she saw Misha, her face turned pale.  One couldn’t help but
notice his eyes.  They were the same as Larissa’s little boy.  “How can I help
you?”  she asked Misha trying to compose herself.

            Misha repeated his
story to Hannah.  “I’m sure we don’t know anything about this woman and child
you are looking for,” she told Misha.

            “I would like to
believe you, ma’am, but your daughter just said that a woman used to come here
who was looking for her son.”  He pushed himself further into the apartment and
closed the door behind him.

            Hannah backed up. “She
is mistaken, sir.  Malka is hardly ever here.  She is confusing this with
guests we’ve had for dinner.”

            Misha backed Hannah up
against the wall.  “This is a police matter,” he said gruffly.  “If you do not
cooperate, we will arrest your whole family for interfering in a police
investigation.   We know she would have tried to go to America.  If you did
anything to help her, you will be an accessory to her crime.”

            Hannah started to cry. “Please.
I don’t know anything.”

            Misha leaned forward
and pinned her shoulders harshly against the wall.

            “Let go of her,” Malka
screamed, grabbing his back and trying to pull him off her mother.

            Letting go of Hannah
with his right hand, Misha turned and managed to push Malka away. “Shut up,” he
ordered her. He grabbed Hanna by the arm and walked her over to a small couch. “Sit,”
he barked. “You, too,” he added motioning to Malka.

            “I am not accustomed to
pushing women around,” he said, sitting down in a chair adjacent to the couch. “That
child is my son.  I will find him.  You can tell me where they went or we can
wait for your husband to come home and see what he has to say.”

            Hannah knew that she
could not let Benjamin get involved with the police.  His involvement with the Bolsheviks
kept him in danger of being arrested every day.  She begged him to stop going
to these meetings, but he said it was for the good of Russia.  He had to do it.
 “I have to think of my family,” she thought to herself.  “Hopefully Larissa is
far enough away that he won’t find her.”  Then she proceeded to tell him that
she had left for Helsinki, Finland, by train, and that from there she hoped to
make her way through Sweden to Norway where she would take a ship to America.

            Once Hannah told him the
night and time Rebekah had left, he knew he could find out which trains went to
Helsinki that night and a schedule of their stops at the train stations along
the way.  “You better be telling me the whole truth,” he said to Hannah.  “If I
find out this is a lie, I will see to it that your entire family is arrested.  You
could all be killed or sent to Siberia.”

            “It’s the truth,”
Hannah said quietly.

            Misha got up and let
himself out.

            Malka turned to her
mother.  “He said he had to notify her that her brother had been killed in the
war.”

            Hanna took Malka’s hand.
 “Larissa didn’t have a brother,” she said softly.

CHAPTER 42

It had been two
months since Rebekah and Samuel had arrived at the Shlissel’burg Hard Labor Prison.

The train trip had
been grueling.  Daniel had been right. After about five hours, they were ushered
off the train and put on another train that was more like a cattle car packed
with people.

            The rest of the trip
was a nightmare.  There was no food; no place to go to the bathroom; and the
din of everyone talking was nerve-racking.  Rebekah had given Samuel the two
pieces of chocolate she had left in her bag and some crackers.  She had no idea
how long it had really been when they finally were taken off the train.

            During the trip, Daniel
had taken a protective attitude toward Rebekah, trying both to comfort her and
amuse Samuel.  She had learned a lot about him during the trip.  He was from a
small town not very far from Yelizavetgrad.  Both of his parents had been
killed in their tailor shop during one of the pogroms, and he had, in fact,
moved to Yelizavetgrad to teach in one of the high schools.  Rebekah was
surprised to find that he had eaten at her mother’s delicatessen many times.  “Mr.
Daniel knows your Bubbe,” she had told Samuel.

            He had moved from
Yelizavetgrad to St. Petersburg hoping to be able to teach at the university,
but had not had much luck in that pursuit and ended up tutoring children for
some of the wealthier families.  Some of the gentlemen who lived in the
boarding house where he stayed had gotten him involved in the Bolshevik
movement.  He had been arrested at a big rally, and now he was on his way to
prison as a political dissident.

            “Do you really have no
papers?” he asked her after finishing his story.

            Rebekah felt she could
trust Daniel so she told him the truth.  “I have papers to travel to America,”
she said. “But I was afraid to show those to the guard.  I was warned to never
let my papers out of my sight.”  Actually, Benjamin had had someone prepare
papers for her and Samuel that would carry them to Helsinki.  There, the people
she was to meet would help with papers to go through Sweden and Norway and
obtain what she needed to sail to America.  She actually had them inside her
corset.

            “He was asking for
papers showing your reason for being sent to prison,” Daniel replied. “I
believe we are headed to Shlissel’burg.  From what I’ve heard, containment
there can be brief or as long as five to six months before one is sent on to
another work camp, usually in Siberia.”

            “I really don’t have
any such papers, Daniel. I am trying to return to America with Samuel.  It’s a
very long story.”

            Daniel smiled. “I have
plenty of time.”

            Rebekah started from
the very beginning, hoping that he would not be judgmental.  When she finished,
Daniel looked at her.

            “You are a very courageous
woman, Rebekah.  You mustn’t lose sight of your dream to return to America.”

            When they arrived at
the prison, the guards divided them into groups, collecting their papers as
they went along.  Rebekah tried to explain to the guard that she had no papers
and that she had not been arrested, but he insisted she would not be there if
she hadn’t been arrested.

“Not my fault you
lost your papers,” he told her.  Clearly he did not know what to do with her.  Finally
he put her with a group that included the few other women who had been on the train
and a woman who was already alone in the cell.  “I’ll have to contact an
official about you,” he told her.

            The place to which they
had been taken was indeed Shlissel’burg.  Located about twenty-five miles
northwest of Petrograd, it was the flagship of the Imperial Russian Prison System.
 It consisted of four separate prisons.  Some were much worse than others, and
Rebekah was fortunate enough to be put in building four, the newest of all the
buildings, having been constructed in 1907.  Unlike the other buildings, this
one had both common and solitary cell blocks.  She was in a common cell with
four other woman and Samuel. Two were accused of stealing, one of murder and
one of being a dissident.

CHAPTER 43

Jacob looked up
when he heard the bell that Solomon had put on the door so they would know when
someone came in.

            “Martin,” he said.
“What a nice surprise. It is good to see you.”

            “You too, Jacob,” he
replied shaking his hand. “I have another letter from Rebekah. I wanted to get
it to you right away.  It’s been quite a while since we heard from her.”

            Jacob smiled at
Martin’s use of the word “we.”

            “That’s wonderful
Martin.  I know how busy you are.  We appreciate your taking time out of your
day to bring this.”

            “You know how I feel
about Rebekah, Jacob.  I pray daily that she will find her son and come back to
all of us.”

            “Thank you, Martin. 
Let me run and get Rachael.  If someone comes in, I have some great silk in the
safe in the back.”

            Martin smiled.  This
had become a running joke between them.

            Jacob looked at the
envelope. It was addressed to Rose.  He felt a pang of sadness knowing how this
would upset Rachael, but they had decided not to write to Rebekah about Rose’s
death.  There was nothing she could do and it would only upset her.  He headed
upstairs.

            “Rachael!” he called as
he walked in through the kitchen.

            “I’m in the bedroom,
Jacob,” she answered “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing, Rachael, good
news.  Martin has brought us a letter from Rebekah.  I wanted to bring it up
right away.”

            “Is Martin still
downstairs?” she asked as she put down the sheet she was folding.

            “Yes, Rachael.”

            “Let’s take it
downstairs.  He is as anxious to hear about her as we are.”

            “Fine, Rachael.  I need
to warn you it is addressed to Rose.”

            “Oh, Jacob,” Rachael
said, her voice filled with pain.  “I feel so badly that she doesn’t know.”

            “I know, Rachael, but
we decided it was the best thing to do.”

            When they got
downstairs, Jacob started to read the letter. He skipped “Dear Mama.”

She spoke more of the wonderful
family that had become her home away from home, and how her work was going. 
Her mention of the war was brief.

I
have gotten him! By the time you receive this letter I hope I will be on my way
home to America.

            I
can’t wait to see you.  Hug everyone for me.  I miss you all so much. Love,
Rebekah.

Jacob
and Rachael knew that Rebekah would not use any names in case her letters were
found.

PS I didn’t
have time to put a note in for Martin.  He is so sweet to be our messenger. 
Please thank him for me and tell him how much I appreciate it.

            When Jacob finished the
letter, Rachael had tears streaming down her face.  “It’s okay, Rachael,” he
said taking her in his arms and holding her tight.  “We are all sad, but
hopefully she will be home safe with us soon.”  Even Martin was teary-eyed.

            A minute later Solomon
bound into the store.  “Papa,” he exclaimed. “What is wrong? Why is Mama
crying?”

            “We had a letter from
Aunt Bekka,” Jacob answered.

            “Is everything okay?”

            “Actually, everything
may be okay.    She has gotten Samuel and hopes to start home for America soon.”

            “Then why are you so
upset, Mama?” Solomon questioned turning to Rachael.

            “I’m just sad, Sollie,”
Rachael replied. “It makes me sad that Aunt Bekka still doesn’t know about
Bubbe. The letter was addressed to her.”

            Solomon felt a pang of
sadness.  “I understand, Mama.  Hopefully she will be home soon and we can tell
her.  I don’t think it was something she should have found out in a letter. 
Having Samuel with her will help soften the news.”

            Rachael smiled and
wiped her eyes with her apron. She hugged Solomon. “You’re so wise for a boy,
Sollie.”

            “I’m almost twenty,
Mama,” he said into her hair. “Not such a boy anymore.”

            Jacob chimed in. “Well
then, my young man, please go open the boxes in the back that we got today so
we can start putting out the new fabrics.”

            When Solomon had left
Jacob looked at Rachael.  “Will you be okay?” he asked solicitously.

            “I will, Jacob. 
Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to have all that I have.”  She turned to go
upstairs. “Martin,” she said. “You’ll stay for dinner.  That isn’t a question. 
It’s an order.”

            Martin smiled. “Of
course, Rachael.  I brought a bottle of wine just in case.”

            They all laughed.