The Invisible Wall (26 page)

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Authors: Harry Bernstein

BOOK: The Invisible Wall
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I knocked on the door, and when Lily saw the tray she frowned and said, “Put it on the dresser. I'll eat later.” She was not lying down. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and was sorting through some books that she kept in a cardboard box, her bookcase. “'arry,” she said, “I'm going to give these books to you when I leave.”

I was delighted, of course. I'd never had any books of my own other than those I got out of the library. There was one with gold leaf on the edges. “Can I have that one, too?” I asked.

She shook her head, smiling. “No, not that one,” she said. “I'm taking that with me.” It was the book of poems that Arthur had brought her when he came back from the war. She picked it up and fingered it a little, and then started to cry.

I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. Then I heard a knocking at the front door below. Footsteps in the lobby moved to answer the knock, and a few moments later my mother called up, a little excited, “Lily, you have a visitor. It's the rabbi. He wants to see you.”

I think it was just about a week before Lily was to leave. All sorts of people, some even from up the park, had been coming to say good-bye to her. Lily frowned at my mother's message, and immediately called back, “I can't see him now.”

“Please, Lily,” my mother begged. We heard the rabbi's voice saying apologetically that he'd come another time, and my mother saying, “No, no,” then begging Lily once more, adding, “He's brought you something. He can go upstairs and give it to you. You don't have to come down.”

“All right,” Lily said, finally, reluctantly. “Let him come up then.”

He came very quickly with light footsteps. I wanted to go, but Lily grasped my wrist and said fiercely, “No, stay here, 'arry.”

The rabbi entered the room awkwardly, then saw me, and looked as if he wished I were not there. But he smiled and said hello to me too, and to Lily said, “I'm sorry you're not well,”

“It's nothing much,” Lily said. “I'll be all right.”

“I hope so,” he said. “You don't want anything to interfere with your journey, and you have a long one ahead of you.” She had not asked him to sit down, because there was not even a chair in the tiny room. The only place he could have sat was on the edge of the bed next to her. I had been standing all this time. The rabbi also stood, holding a small wrapped package in his hand. “I was sorry when I heard you were leaving us for America,” he continued. “America is a wonderful country, but for selfish reasons I wished you could stay here.”

Lily said nothing. He knew, of course, why she was being sent to America. That information would have been given him by his landlady, and perhaps a great many other people. But I doubt if Lily felt any embarrassment over it.

“Yes, I'm very sorry,” the rabbi went on. “You and I don't agree on a great many things, yet we have one thing in common that would eventually have overcome all our differences. We are both Jews.” He smiled.

Lily still didn't say anything. She was sitting with her head bent slightly toward the floor, wishing, I suppose, that he would soon leave.

The rabbi continued still further, still smiling a little. “Although I must admit, I enjoyed our little arguments. There's something very refreshing about a good argument over a vital issue. I sometimes get very tired of people agreeing with me all the time, and the trivial things that occupy their minds. It's just a pity that you and I couldn't have got to know each other a little more. There were so many things we could have talked about.”

Lily spoke at last in a very low voice. “I don't think we could ever have found anything to agree on.”

“Except the one thing I reminded you of before,” the rabbi said, “and that is the most important of all things.”

“Not to me,” muttered Lily, still not looking at him.

“Ah, but it will be,” the rabbi assured her. “Someday, you will find that out. There is nothing more important for any of us.”

Lily refused to talk further, and the rabbi handed her his package. “I brought this for you to read on your journey. It is a book. I know you like them. This one is very famous. I hope you will read it.” Then he held out a hand. “I will say good-bye to you now, and wish you a safe journey, and a good, happy life in America.”

Lily took his hand, and he held it for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room. Both Lily and I were silent as we listened to his footsteps going down the stairs, and waited still as our mother escorted him to the door, then closed it after him.

Lily unwrapped her package. Inside was the book. It had a black leather cover, and on it in gold lettering were inscribed the words:
The Old Testament.

         

THAT SUNDAY
Lily put on her white dress. It was just two days before she was to leave for America. My father would take her to Liverpool. This was a man's job, a father's job, and he was taking his responsibilities seriously for once. My mother could have had no quarrel with that, though she would have liked to go to Liverpool herself, to see Lily get on the boat and sail off to America. What a thrill that would have given her! But there was not enough money for that.

She was busy packing for Lily, though, and that in itself gave her a vicarious pleasure. She loved every moment. Somehow, she had managed to get hold of an old metal trunk, and was putting Lily's things into it, all her clothes, all her belongings, including her books, except the ones she was leaving for me. She would have left the rabbi's book behind if she'd had her way, but my mother insisted on putting that in too. She was proud of the gift the rabbi had given her daughter; she had spoken of it to everyone.

Then they came to the white dress, the one my mother had made for her when she had won her scholarship and was to have gone to the grammar school. She had never worn it, but it was still in good condition. My mother saw no reason it should not go in with the other clothes. “Who knows,” she said a bit sadly, “you might still wear it for some special occasion.”

Lily was staring at the dress. Suddenly, she said, “Don't pack it now. I want to wear it today.”

“Today?” my mother said, amazed. “But what for? You're not going anywhere special.”

“I want to wear it,” Lily said stubbornly.

“If it still fits you,” my mother said, giving in.

“It will fit,” Lily said.

Yes, it did, and it looked as beautiful on her as it did that memorable day when she first put it on, when my father had dragged her by the hair to the workshop. All of us, except Rose, who turned away contemptuously, admired her in it when she came downstairs in the white dress, her long dark hair hanging down to her waist much the same as that same day years ago.

“Take good care of it,” my mother said. “They'll want to see you in it when you get to America. You must put it on for them as soon as you get there.” Then she asked, “Where are you going?”

“Just for a walk,” Lily said. “Would you like to come with me, 'arry?”

“Yis,” I said, promptly.

I remember as we were leaving, my mother called out to us, “Don't be long, Lily. You've still got a lot of packing to do.” Then, just as we reached the door, she added, “Better take an umbrella along. It might rain, and you don't want to spoil your dress.”

Lily pretended not to have heard this. As did I. We both hated to carry umbrellas. Besides, Lily seemed in a hurry.

It was not the most perfect of days. Warm enough, yes, but with clouds in the sky, and the sun peeking in and out of them. Yet we enjoyed walking, and people all along the street standing in their doorways called out their admiration for Lily's white dress, and how lovely she looked in it.

We had soon left the street behind, and I saw that we were heading for Mersey Square. “Where are we going? “I asked.

“You'll soon find out,” Lily said a bit mysteriously.

It was not until we boarded a tram that I discovered that we were heading for the country, and the Seventeen Windows. I was a bit startled. I hadn't forgotten our last trip there, and my mother's discovery, and the row that followed. Lily had not been there since.

Nor did I think she'd ever go again, nor see Arthur again, and so far as I knew she had not seen him since that day. “Won't Mam be angry?” I asked.

Lily was silent for a moment, as if mulling over my question. I waited a moment before asking her, “You won't want me to tell her, will you?”

For a little while longer she still seemed to be thinking, then she said, “Yes, you'll tell her, if you want.”

Her answer struck me as strange, and I puzzled over it for a while before asking, “Will Arthur be there?”

“Yes.”

“I can't tell Mam about him,” I said.

“Perhaps you will.”

This too was strange and left me more puzzled than ever. But I didn't say anything further. Lily's manner seemed strange, for that matter. She did not chatter, as she usually did on these outings, or laugh with excitement over the anticipation of meeting Arthur. She was silent and seemingly lost in her thoughts all the way. When we got off the tram and started walking through the countryside, she seemed nervous and kept glancing backward, as if afraid someone was following us.

The sun kept up its game of hide and seek through the clouds, and once indeed a light shower of rain fell and pattered softly on the leaves as we hurried through some woods. But it soon stopped, and a fresh smell rose from the earth. Lily drank it in deeply.

“I love this place,” she said, suddenly, breaking the silence between us. “Do you?”

“Yis,” I said.

“Wouldn't it be nice to live here all the time?” she asked. “To be able to step out of your house and smell all the flowers and trees.”

“Yis,” I said.

“Perhaps someday I will,” she said confidently. “And you'll come to visit me, and stay over, and we'll have long walks through the woods and fields.”

“But you're going to America,” I reminded her.

“Yes,” she said, and that was all. She became silent again, and remained silent until we had climbed the hill and come to the top where we could see the Seventeen Windows below.

Lily stopped, and I looked at her, wondering. She had become nervous again, and was hesitating, as if she did not want to go farther. She put a hand to her heart, and I could see an expression of pain on her face.

“What's the matter,” I asked anxiously, “do you have that pain?”

She'd had it before in the house, and my mother had asked the same question, and sometimes made her lie down on the sofa. She dropped her hand, and took hold of mine, and clutched it hard, and I could feel its coldness. “It's nothing,” she said. “I've just got to stop for a while.”

Her face had gone pale, too, and we both stood there with her hand holding mine, tightly. But after a moment she seemed to recover, and we went on. Just as we neared the bottom of the hill, Mrs. Fogg came forward to greet us. She was wearing what she usually did, a long blue-striped dress almost like the petticoats the women who worked in the mills wore, a white apron over it, and a white bonnet fastened under her chin. She was smiling, and showing her large buck teeth, and as she approached she reached forward with both hands to touch Lily.

She held her off a moment, and said, “How beautiful you look. Just the way a—”

But Lily stopped her, putting a finger to her lips, and looking at me.

“Doesn't he know?” Mrs. Fogg whispered.

“Not yet.”

“Perhaps he should.”

“Later.”

This talk went on between them in whispers, but I heard it all right, and couldn't help feeling puzzled by it. We went on, Mrs. Fogg walking beside us with her long, masculine stride, and chatting away in her hoarse voice about the weather, her flowers, various things I am sure were designed to take my mind off anything I had heard.

When we came to the inn more people seemed to be about than usual. They all gathered around Lily, embracing her and saying things I did not quite understand. It seemed to me that something very unusual was about to happen, whether I was supposed to know about it or not. Then Arthur appeared, emerging from the inn, and I thought he was dressed unusually well, wearing white flannel trousers and a dark blue blazer, a cricket shirt with a school tie, looking very handsome and tall, and smiling.

He went straight toward Lily, and the others drew back a little to make way for him. He took Lily in his arms and kissed her. It was a long kiss, and everybody watched. I watched, too, embarrassed. Arthur had never kissed her like that before in public. But for once neither one of them seemed restrained.

Someone said, “That'll do for the while, Arthur,” and everybody laughed, and the couple broke apart.

Then Arthur came over to me and put his arms around me, and said, “We're going to be brothers, 'arry.”

“He doesn't understand,” Lily said.

“Haven't you told him yet?”

“No, but I'm going to now. 'arry, come with me.” She led me away from the group, and over to one of the tables on the lawn, where we both sat, opposite each other. She leaned across toward me and spoke earnestly. “'arry, you must try to understand what this is all about. I'm going to marry Arthur this afternoon. I know Mam doesn't want me to marry him because he's a Christian, and I know this is going to hurt her very badly. But I can't help it, 'arry. I love Arthur, and he loves me, and this is all that matters to us. I brought you here because I wanted one of my family, at least, to be here at my wedding. When you go home I want you to tell Mam you saw me getting married and how happy I am. You'll be going home alone, because Arthur and I will stay here tonight. Later on we'll go to Manchester to live, and I'll work there, and Arthur will finish his studies at the university. We will come back to the street tomorrow to get our things. I'll talk to Mam then, and maybe she won't feel so badly about it all. Do you understand me?”

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