The Family Moskat (64 page)

His eyes were red, as if he had spent sleepless nights. He admitted that he had spent the night of his arrival with Hadassah in Otwotsk. They had later gone to Miedzeshin. They had taken a room there at Klonya's mother-in-law's. Tonight they were supposed to sleep at Hertz Yanovar's. Adele's face turned pale.

"You shouldn't have come back. Youll make her unhappy, too."

"I'm afraid so."

"You're crazy, Asa Heshel, crazy to death. You don't run wild in the streets, but you're insane just the same. I have only one hope left--that your son won't take after you."

"Don't worry, he won't. You'll see to it."

"God knows I try. He's already asking the same questions that were an obsession with you. If you have a spark of decency left, see to it that he doesn't have to suffer want in addition."

"Yes, Adele. I'll try. Good night."

"Lunatic! Why are you running away? You came to see the child, didn't you?"

Adele went out. Asa Heshel stood at the window and looked into the courtyard. How dark it was, how gloomy the walls looked against the reddish, starless sky, how empty everything was in him! He was not even eager to see his child. Adele was right, he was insane. He suddenly put out the tip of his tongue and touched the window pane, as if to convince himself that he was really there. Perhaps he should not go to this rendezvous with Hadassah.

Maybe she could still return to her husband. What a mad thing to have come back--without a God, without a goal, without a skill!

What a frightful responsibility he was taking on himself! Disgraceful as it was, he had already become impatient, even in these few days. "It's all the same thing under different names: impatience, boredom, cruelty, bashfulness, laziness. They are all burdened by the same passion for death; the Reds, the Whites, that Polish officer in the train, Abram, Hadassah. . . ." He heard something behind him. Adele had come in, carrying little David.

The child was barefooted and wearing pajamas. He was rubbing his eyes with his fist and staring at his father, pale, astonished.

"That's your tatush," Adele said to him in Polish. "And this is your son."

Asa Heshel looked at the boy. In that one instant he saw more than had been revealed in all the photographs Dinah had shown -418-him. The boy

resembled him; resembled his grandmother and his great-grandmother. The child scratched his nose hastily. His lips began to quiver, like an infant's, as if he were about to start crying.

"Give Daddy your hand."

"Mamma, I'm sleepy." And little David burst into tears. Asa Heshel unpacked the toys.

"Here. This is a whistle. This is a sword. This is a soldier."

"For real?"

"No, only to play with."

"Mamma, I want to sleep."

"What's the matter with you? Get down. I haven't the strength to carry you."

She put the child down on the carpet. He stood there with his pajama trousers hanging loosely on him, his jacket too big. His head was close-cropped except at the top, where a few blond curls remained. He yawned, stretched himself, and blinked. Asa Heshel watched him, astounded. There was a freshness about the child mingled with a strange maturity. Asa Heshel recognized the cut of his head, the ears, the temples, the premature look of world-weariness in the eyes. A sudden love welled up in him for this cross youngster. In that instant he realized for the first time the meaning of the words "to be a father.""I mustn't," he thought. "I daren't bind myself to him. Shell never stop blackmailing me." He bent down and kissed little David on the forehead.

"David, darling, I'm your daddy. I love you. . . ."

The youngster looked at him slyly, with a touch of the grown-up. A smile awoke in his tear-dimmed eyes. "Stay here. . . ."

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PART VIII
CHAPTER ONE

During the years that Asa Heshel had spent in the army and later in Russia, Hadassah kept away from the family. Her father had married again. Her aunts Saltsha and Queen Esther sided with Fishel. Of the whole family there were only three cousins who visited her in Otwotsk and whom she occasionally saw in Warsaw: Masha, Stepha, and Pinnie's youngest daughter, Dosha.

Masha had converted to Christianity. Her baptismal father was her father-in-law, Pan Zazhitsky. She went to church daily. Reb Moshe Gabriel observed the week of ritual mourning for his daughter as if she had died. Leah wrote from America that she disowned her. The uncles and aunts spat at the mention of her name. But Hadassah could not hate a woman who had made such a sacrifice for love.

For that matter, was she herself any better? Had she not dishonored her marriage vows? Let those who were without sin cast the first stone. Besides, what difference was there between one religion and another? Did not Jews and Christians pray to the same God? When Asa Heshel was in Switzerland, Hadassah had often thought of entering a nunnery and of spending the rest of her life in consecrated solitude, as was done by Christian girls disappointed in worldly things. If she was opposed to apostasy, it was for one reason only: it was the Jews who were the persecuted, not the Christians. If what the Evangelist said was true, that the meek would inherit the earth, then the Jews were the real Christians.

When Masha apostatized, Hadassah broke off with her, but not for long. Masha began writing to Hadassah in Otwotsk. She -420-suffered and

was lonely. Hadassah came to meet her in Warsaw and learned that Yanek's family had never forgiven her her Jew-ish origin. Her father-in-law would mutter, cough, and curse through the nights, blaming his son for his sickness. Her mother-in-law showed her hatred from the very first day. Her sister-in-law avoided her. After a time Yanek and Masha moved out of the house and took a room somewhere in Mokotov, but the situation remained an unhappy one. No one wanted the pictures Yanek painted. Who had time for art during a war? Yanek sent his paintings to the exhibitions, but they were returned. He would stay in his room for days at a stretch, read the newspapers, and repeat that he was good for nothing, that he had not had the right to take a wife. Masha got a job in a flower shop, but the place depressed her and threatened to reduce her to a state of melancholia. Most of the customers bought wreaths for funerals. Masha began to suffer from cramps and nightmares. Man and wife started to quarrel; and when Yanek was in a rage he would call her a "filthy Jew-girl!"

Hadassah and Masha met regularly once a week. The cousins would go to a gentile restaurant, far from the Jewish quarter, and have dinner there. Hadassah always paid. Once Masha came out to Otwotsk in the middle of the night. There had been a violent quarrel, and Yanek had seized her by the throat and reached for a knife. The two young women stayed awake until dawn, and Masha poured out all her troubled soul. Yanek did not want to work. He had no strength. He had heart trouble, and often spoke of committing suicide. He was a poor drinker, but he could not keep away from the bottle. He became disgusted with painting and burned his canvases. He was convinced his fellow artists, Mlotek and Rubenlicht, were plotting against him, in revenge for his having married a Jewish girl. Masha suggested that he consult a nerve specialist, and he accused her of wanting to have him consigned to an asylum.

When the Germans promised Poland independence and recruited men for the Polish-German army, Yanek volunteered. His father had died shortly before. Yanek was sent by the commission to a hospital, but was released from service for reasons of health. He at once turned against the Germans and applied to Pilsudski's Polish military organization. Here he met with luck for the first time. He was commissioned in the secret service. He painted portraits of Pilsudski's aides, some of whom headed the Pilsud-

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ski Brigade in Hungary. He began to earn money and to bring home guests who, although they were in mufti, like Yanek himself, addressed each other as "captain," "major," and "colonel." They drank, sang patriotic songs, curled their mustaches, kissed Masha's hand, and wept drunkenly over the fate of the Polish fatherland, which for a whole century had been divided up between the swinish Russians, Prussians, and Austrians. They knew that Masha was Jewish, so they always spoke of the famous Jewish patriots of Poland, Samuel Zbitkover and Colonel Berek Yosselevich, and swore that Poland would be a paradise for the tormented Jewish people, even as the poets Mickiewicz, Norvid, and Wyspianski had foretold.

When the Germans arrested Pilsudski, Yanek, who had never written poetry before, was moved to indite a song, which was printed in the illegal newspaper of the military organization. He also painted a heroic picture of Pilsudski at the head of his bri-gade. Masha did not consider herself an art critic, but even she realized that the picture was a cheap imitation of Matejko. Yanek's Jewish friends called him a dauber. Yanek raged at them, at Masha, and at the Jewish people who, he said, consisted of nothing but anarchists and degenerates. He rented a studio and stayed away from home for days and nights at a time. He wrote Masha long letters about his love for her, which could never die, and his disillusionment with women, with the Jews, with the hope for true justice. He quoted the anti-Semitic works of Lutoslawski, Nowaczynski, and Niemojewski. He sang the praises of Pilsudski, whom he called the Messiah. He would turn up at home in the middle of the night, dead drunk, kneel beside Masha's bed, and weep. "My angel! I'm a sinner! Don't thrust me away from you!

Pure and holy soul!"

Then, when Pilsudski was liberated from the Magdeburg fortress, and Polish independence was declared, Yanek became a major in the Polish army and a frequent visitor at the Belvedere Palace. His portrait of Pilsudski hung among the works of the old Polish masters; his song became a popular marching tune for the army.

He obtained an apartment on fashionable Uyazdov Alley. He had made up with Masha. He had an orderly and there were two maids. Colonels, generals, and diplomatic personages were frequent visitors. Masha went out horseback riding in Lazhenki Park. She stopped writing to Hadassah and no longer came to Otwotsk. Hadassah had never seen her new apartment. Mad--422-ame Masha Zazhitska became a prominent personality in the new Poland. Her photograph appeared in the illustrated magazines. She was invited to serve on women's committees. She was given an honorary title in the Red Cross. Hadassah remained Fishel Kut-ner's wife and waited for the return of the obscure yeshivah student who had become lost somewhere among the Bolsheviks. Masha often reproached herself for having cut herself off from Hadassah. She would start up in the night, awakened by pangs of conscience, and vow to herself that she would seek out Hadassah the next day, pay her the few marks she owed her, buy her a present, and invite her to the house. But when the day came it was so crammed with commitments that she forgot Hadassah.

Weeks would pass during which it never occurred to her that she was a granddaughter of Reb Meshulam Moskat and the daughter of Reb Moshe Gabriel, and that her brother Aaron, newly married in Warsaw, was the son-in-law of Kalman Chelmer. Masha felt sorry for the Jews, but it seemed to her that there was no sense in getting mixed up with this peculiar tribe, with its sickness, its corruption, its complications.

Everything seemed to be there in one tremendous mix-up: Communism, the black market, atheism, religious fanaticism. Her family had become poor; her mother was wandering around somewhere in America with her servant lover. No, there was nothing to regret. Now that Yanek had achieved a career, her parents-in-law were dead, and Poland had become an independent state, Masha had one desire: to burn all her bridges behind her.

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June 26
.--Today was a sad day in my life. I can compare it only to the day I got married. Fishel divorced me. I spent the whole day at the rabbi's, sitting on a bench. The scribe wrote on parchment with a quill. The two witnesses had to be taught how to sign their names in the traditional manner. The rabbi used the official "thou"

when he spoke to me. He used such queer words--half Hebrew, half Yiddish. He looked into thick volumes, and gave me his kerchief as a token. I certainly wasn't sorry that it was all over, but I cried, anyway. F. sat with his back to me all the time, and he swayed as if he were praying. I kept on thinking of death and of mother. I had to stand up and cup my hands, and when F. laid the divorce paper in them, he gave me a strange look. Then the edges of the divorce paper were cut with a penknife, and the rabbi told me: "If thou desirest to get married, thou shalt wait three months and one day."

I'm afraid I'll wait more than three years. Adele will never give him a divorce.

July 3
.--Today an old dream of ours came true. We are in Zakopane. He has seen higher mountains; he knows the Alps, but I am seeing the mountains for the first time. They're even more beautiful than I imagined. Suddenly a mountain grows out, and then it disappears as if the earth had swallowed it. The woods on the backs of the mountains look to me like green beards. The hotel is so noisy. They all slam doors. They give you so much to eat that it's terrible, and the women still complain that it's not enough. The girls laugh so loudly that you can't sleep at night.

Asa Heshel is very restless. He said that the modern Jew is not a human being. He's so full of contradictions. He seems to be satisfied that I'm his mistress and not his wife. If he knew how much I suffer because of that! The clerk asked for our papers, and saw immediately that we weren't married. There -424-are many

people from Warsaw here. As soon as we enter the dining-room it becomes quiet.

In the evening
.--He went for a walk alone. We had another argument. Dear God, why do we quarrel so much! Instead of resting, he's always angry and tense. He doesn't say a word to the people at our table. He had to borrow money for the trip, since he refuses to take any of the money I got from F. Gina lent it to him.

July 8
.--Yesterday there was a lot of excitement in the hotel. A soldier from Haller's army attacked the owner and cut off his beard. The poor man is going around with a bandaged cheek. I didn't sleep all night. Asa Heshel groaned and tossed about until dawn.