The Marrying of Chani Kaufman (30 page)

A sudden burning stab of pain caused her to cry out. She shoved at him with all the force she could muster and pushed up the bed, so that her back was pressed against the headboard. He reared backwards in shock. A terrible moaning, sighing sound escaped him. Her feet were sprayed with warm liquid. And then Baruch sank into a torpid, lifeless mass amongst the disarray of bed linen.

She lay there, the liquid congealing between her toes. She could not move. Her hands were clamped between her legs, pressing down at the unbearable soreness he had caused. It had been worse than she had imagined. The Rebbetzin had lied to her. There was no pleasure in such pain. She hated the Rebbetzin and her mother at that moment. But most of all she hated Baruch. She had to blame someone, however unfair she knew it was. He was the cause of her physical misery. And if this was what marriage was, she wanted nothing of it.

Shame engulfed him as he lay there exhausted by his pathetic efforts. He was a failure. A sticky mass coated his belly. He had not sown his seed within her nor even entered her. Worst of all he had hurt her. She had yelped in pain and pushed him away. Horrified at what he had done, he dared not raise his head to look at her. Minutes passed and neither of them moved. The darkness was filled with a low whining sound. It was not coming from him. He jerked upright and fumbled for the light. It blazed, blinding him momentarily but when the fuzz cleared he saw Chani. She lay in a tight curled up ball, hugging her knees into her chest. An arm was flung over her face.

‘Chani?'

She did not answer but the keening sound grew louder. He was terrified. What had he done? Had he damaged her irrevocably? His wife of only a few hours was not moving or speaking. He crept closer, leaning over her and gently plucked at her arm. She shifted away from him and he caught the glitter of tears on her cheek.

‘Chani! Are you ok?'

Still no reply. The sobbing grew louder. Her mouth gaped beneath her hands. He moved to embrace her but she pushed him away. She did not want him to even touch her. Should he ring for an ambulance?

‘Chani, I'm so sorry – what can I do to help?'

She stood up and grabbed the quilt off the bed. Wrapping it around her, she stumbled towards the bathroom as it trailed behind her, an echo of her wedding dress. The bathroom light bathed her retreating figure in harsh neon. The door slammed, was locked and she was gone.

Baruch waited. Minutes passed but still he sat immobile on the edge of the bed, naked and cold. He looked down at his withered member with disgust. Finally he pulled on his pyjamas to cover his shame. There was no sound from the bathroom. He tiptoed towards the door and listened. Nothing. Should he knock? Something told him to leave her be. But it was his duty to look after his wife and she was in distress.

‘Chani?' His voice sounded idiotic.

No reply.

‘Chani? Are you ok? Please tell me you're ok. Is there anything I can get you? Is there anything I can do?' His words were drowned out by the sound of the flush and then the splutter and gush of the taps. He tried the handle although he knew it was locked. ‘Chani, please talk to me.'

‘Just leave me alone.' Her voice was wretched.

‘I can't leave you alone. We're married now. You're my wife.'

Silence.

The shower whirred and he was blocked out once more.

 

She washed away every trace of him. She soaped it all away – his saliva, his sweat, his seed, his touch. She wanted to be clean and new again. He could wait.

Baruch sat slumped on the floor, his back against the bathroom door. He would wait until she came out. She had to come out sometime. He had not thought it would turn out as badly as this. What a mess. The door clicked behind him and before he could scramble to his feet it opened, unbalancing him. She stepped backwards allowing him to clumsily unfold. Then she walked straight past him.

‘Chani?' He followed her. She pulled out her suitcase, opened it and drew out several garments. She began to dress.

‘What are you doing?'

‘I'm leaving.' She did not even look up at him.

‘But – but – you can't – we're married – '

‘I know and I want to go home to my parents.' Her voice was clipped and hard, a tone he had never heard her use before.

‘Chani – please – it's six in the morning! They'll be asleep – you can't go back now! Please – stay – we can talk – '

‘I have nothing to say.'

She continued to pack with her back turned to him. Baruch moved towards her and reached out a hand. He could barely see her for tears. She had become a watery pixelated blur.

‘Please,' he croaked. ‘Please stay and talk. I'm sorry. It's my fault.'

‘It's no-one's fault. We don't know each other but we are expected to go from nought to sixty in a night. It's pathetic!' She gave a hollow little laugh.

‘I know. I tried, Chani, I really tried. I went to the library to work things out for tonight – '

‘Well, you were obviously looking at the wrong books!' she snapped. ‘What good are books in this situation? Always blooming books! It's all the same – we're told one thing but the reality is so very different – '

‘I agree. But maybe we can work on things . . . take our time. Try again.'

‘Try again? After tonight?' She stared at him.

It was all so unfair. Why should all the blame fall on him?

‘Look, Chani – it's not all my fault – I know as little about these things as you do – I had no idea what I was doing – '

‘Clearly!'

The rebuke stung. He did not deserve it. Suddenly he was furious.

‘
Fine then!
Walk away – run off home – blame it all on me, if it's easier for you!' He stomped off towards the bathroom to hide his hurt.

Chani watched him go. ‘No, Baruch. It's my fault. I should never have married you. I should have listened to your mother when she tried to stop me – '

He stopped dead in his tracks. ‘She did what?'

She had not meant to say it. ‘Nothing, forget it.' She plucked her everyday sheitel from its stand. She could not bear to put it on. It seemed a lifeless, repellent thing. Hair that had once belonged to someone else flopped and slithered over her fingers.

His head pulsed. He could not believe what he had just heard.

‘No, Chani. You have to tell me. What did my mother do?'

Baruch stood, hands on hips, his face a mask of fury and determination. Chani suddenly felt frightened. He could do anything to her here in this vast prison of a room.

‘It really doesn't matter now. Forget I said it – '

‘I can't. You did say it. So tell me. You at least owe me that.'

‘Ok. Your mum ambushed me on my way home from school – '

‘Ambushed you? What do you mean?' His mother in a balaclava and army fatigues, carrying an Uzi, flashed across his mind.

‘She was waiting in her car in front of my house and when she saw me approach, she got out and introduced herself.'

‘When was this?'

‘Just before you proposed.'

‘I see. And what did you do?'

‘I got in her car. She asked me to.'

‘And then?'

‘We drove to Hampstead and sat in a café and she told me I was not the right sort of girl for you. That our families were too different. And that I should move on.'

Baruch made a horrible strangled sound. His fists were balled. He turned to face the wall to contain himself. ‘And what did you say to all this?'

‘I refused to give you up. I told her my family were just as good as yours.'

He turned to face her. His eyes were moist and red. ‘Thank you' he said. ‘For not giving up on me in front of my bloody mother.' His voice shook with anger.

But now she had started she could not stop. He may as well know the whole truth and then he would understand what she had been through and why she wanted to abandon their marriage.

‘That's not all.'

‘Well, don't spare me, Chani – you've got this far!' His sarcasm spurred her on.

‘Ok then. You remember the dinner with my parents and your parents?'

‘How could I forget it? Best night of my life!'

‘Your mother followed me upstairs when I needed to be excused and cornered me in the bathroom.'

‘She did what? I don't
believe
it. When she had your parents waiting downstairs – and my father – ' He began to pace the room, his pyjamas flapping with the force of his stride. He stopped dead and whirled to face her. ‘And? What else happened?'

‘She offered to help find me another more suitable boy if I would leave you alone.'

‘My God! She's incorrigible! I knew my mum was the meddlesome type but this really takes the biscuit! If my father had known – if he were to find out – '

The pacing began again.

‘No, Baruch – please don't say anything – I shouldn't have told you.'

‘Oh, you can bet I am going to say something! But first of all tell me the rest. How did you get rid of her?'

‘I crushed her foot in the door.'

He stopped and stared at her in disbelief. And then his face crumpled and he collapsed into spasms of laughter.

For Chani the confession had been no laughing matter. Baruch's outrage at his mother's audacity indicated he would not let it slide. Lord knows what the woman would be capable of if stirred to revenge. It occurred to her then that if she were to return home now, Mrs Levy would have won. She was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. She was exhausted. She did not care any more. All she wanted was her own bed.

Baruch clung to an armchair, still convulsed with laughter. He seemed to have forgotten her. She crammed her wig into her pocket, slammed her suitcase shut and dragged it towards the door.

‘Chani! Don't go! Please wait, let's keep talking – '

In a single bound he was by her side, his face wrinkled in concern.

‘Well, you seem to find my predicament funny,' she retorted.

‘No, I don't. It's just the thought of you – ' The giggles threatened again. He looked away and wiped his mouth.

‘Seriously, I want us to work things out. Not give up so quickly.'

‘Why? Your mother has plenty of more suitable girls lined up for you to meet.'

‘Don't be cruel. I'm not interested in other girls. I want to be with you. And she knows that.'

So he had fought for her too. His glasses winked down at her. She could not see his eyes behind them, but a large, warm hand reached for her own and this time she did not shun his touch. They stood by the door holding hands, her suitcase at her feet.

‘I don't want to try again tonight,' she said.

‘Neither do I. I told you already.'

‘But we don't have a choice. We have to do it tonight.'

‘Who says?'

She shrugged. ‘Everyone.'

‘They won't know if we do or we don't. It's between us now.'

‘What about HaShem?'

He had not thought about HaShem. He decided to give Him the benefit of the doubt on this occasion.

‘I'm sure HaShem will understand if we took our time.'

‘But what about the Shevah Brachot? By keeping apart we'll be lying to all those people who are hosting us.'

‘Like I said, if we don't tell them, they won't know. It's none of their business. Let them think what they like. They'll think what they always think.'

‘Ok. But if we stay together, we will have to sleep together at some point . . . and I don't want to go through what I went through tonight.'

‘Chani, I wish we had never tried. Honestly – we can try again but at your speed. Much more slowly. Take our time. Talk. Get to know each other more. Till we feel really comfortable.'

‘But then we'll need to repeat the Sheva Brachot. How can we keep apart otherwise?'

‘We'll manage. We're not animals.' He thought of Rabbi Zilberman and his beasts of the field. ‘It will be practice for when you are really niddah. We can go out every night to a different kosher restaurant and celebrate privately.'

‘People will talk.'

‘People will always talk. We have to be ourselves and do what is right for us.' He could not believe how mature and responsible he sounded. Baruch the married man. He grinned. She turned towards him. He edged a step closer. He opened his arms and she moved into them.

 

‘And there's one more thing I need to talk to you about.'

‘Oh? Tell me then.'

It was about half past six on Monday morning. The curtains were still drawn and Chani sat cross-legged on the bed, bundled into her hotel dressing gown. Baruch lay stretched out on his side, still in his pyjamas. His large feet hung off the edge of the bed. The covers were strewn with plastic wrappers and scrunched up foil, ransacked treasures from the kosher basket. Chani's right cheek was daubed with chocolate. She was halfway through an apple. Baruch helped himself to another strawberry flavoured wafer.

‘I don't want a baby just yet.'

There was a pause in Baruch's munching. He swallowed noisily. ‘Well, I don't want one either. Just yet.'

‘Really? Do you really mean that or are you just saying it for my sake?'

He rolled his eyes in imitation of her. ‘No, Chani, I was just saying it to please your Royal Highness. I'm not ready for children. I can't think of anything scarier! I am only twenty.'

‘But the community expects, our parents expect – '

‘So? Let them expect. It's our decision now.' How strong and sure he sounded. He wished Avromi could hear him. But Chani was frowning and picking at her apple.

‘Ok. But what are we going to do to avoid me getting pregnant so soon?'

He had not thought this one through. ‘I think there are ways . . . I think we need to go to a doctor and ask. But firstly, I guess we will have to ask the rabbis for permission. I heard they'll give you up to a year off.'