Too Many Men (31 page)

No one spoke.

Ruth diverted her desire to stare at the silver dish by gazing at the front door. A stand was filled with an assortment of hats and something furry.

Ruth thought it could have been a large cat. She looked more closely. It was an assortment of wigs. Different colored wigs. Worn-out wigs. One wig slumped on top of the other. Why did anyone need so many wigs? And why leave them on display near the front door? They were so unsightly. A mot-ley moth-eaten collection of wigs. Was the old woman bald? Ruth wondered. Did she grab a wig on her way out of the door in the way that other people picked up a hat? The wigs made Ruth feel a bit sick. The old woman saw Ruth staring at the wigs. Ruth looked away. She didn’t want to offend her yet.

“Ask her if there is anyone else in the building who might know of any photographs or other articles left behind,” Ruth said to Edek.

“There is nobody else who was there at the time,” the old woman said when Edek asked.

“Nobody else,” her husband added.

“Jengelef Boleswaf died ten years ago,” the woman said.

“Jengelef Boleswaf?” said Edek. “He was our caretaker.”

“He lived on the third floor,” said the woman.

“He did live in the basement before,” Edek said to Ruth.

“So there were no documents, nothing?” Ruth said. Edek talked to the woman for several minutes.

“She does say that every single apartment was empty when she came,”

he said.

“Oh, well,” Ruth said to Edek. “Let’s go. There’s nothing here for us.”

She moved and went to stand up.

The old man beckoned her to stay put.

“He is bringing us a cup of tea,” Edek said to Ruth.

“Can’t we say we don’t want it?” she said. She felt exhausted.

T O O M A N Y M E N

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Exhausted by the woman’s intransigence. Exhausted by the decrepit, depressing, disintegration all around them.

“How do you live in Australia?” the old woman asked Edek.

“Tell her every Jew has a swimming pool, a yacht, and a Mercedes in Australia,” Ruth said. Edek laughed despite himself. Edek’s laugh reassured Ruth. She calmed down.

It was naive of her, she thought, to think that she would be given anything by these Poles, even a fragment of seemingly inconsequential information.

Ruth could see that Edek was depressed by these surroundings, too. “Don’t be depressed by this, Dad,” she said. “This is not your home. Your home vanished along with all of its occupants. A home is made up of who is in it.”

“You are right,” Edek said.

The old man brought in the tea. “We’ll drink some of the tea and leave,”

Ruth said to her father. The old man smiled at Ruth. He put the tea and some biscuits on a small table next to Ruth. Six, horseshoe-shaped biscuits were placed on a white plate with a gold, fluted edge. There was a matching teapot, sugar bowl, and milk jug. They had clearly brought out their best china, Ruth thought. The man came back with four matching cups and saucers.

He poured Ruth a cup of tea. It was very strong tea. Almost black. Ruth wasn’t sure she could stomach such strong tea. She decided that she needed a drink. She turned to Edek to ask him if he could ask for some hot water.

She could see straightaway that something was wrong. Edek looked very pale. Ruth’s heart started to pound. “Are you all right, Dad?” she said.

He didn’t answer her. “Dad,” she said, “Are you all right?” A bolt of fear ran through her. How would she get her father to a hospital if he was not well? What was the Polish word for ambulance?

“I am all right,” Edek said weakly.

“Are you in pain?” Ruth said. Edek shook his head. He didn’t look well.

“You sure? You’ve got no chest pain, no shortness of breath?” Ruth said.

Edek shook his head. “No shooting pains in the arms?” Ruth said.

“I am all right,” Edek said.

“Let’s take you to a doctor,” Ruth said.

“I do not need a doctor,” said Edek. “I just did get a shock.”

“Of course this has been a shock for you,” Ruth said. “It’s a big shock to be in your own home and see so starkly how everything is gone.”

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L I L Y B R E T T

“I knew it was all gone,” Edek said. He sounded a bit more like his old self.

“We shouldn’t have come,” Ruth said. “We knew there was nothing here.”

“The teapot and the milk and sugar things did belong to my mother,”

Edek said. “The spoons, too.”

“Oh, no,” Ruth said. No wonder Edek had looked ill. She started to cry.

“Do not cry,” Edek said. “It is too late to cry.”

“My daughter is very emotional,” Edek said to the couple. “She gets upset easily.”

“Can we leave, Dad?” Ruth said.

“We have not finished the tea,” said Edek. He drank his tea while Ruth sat next to him and wept.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Edek said to the old man and woman as they were leaving. The old man took Ruth’s hand and went to kiss it. She squirmed as his stained brown teeth moved closer to her hand.

She pulled her hand away. She tried to smile at the man, but she couldn’t stop crying. She wiped her hand on the side of her coat. She wanted to wipe away the man’s touch.

Edek and Ruth walked down the stairs. Ruth tried to pull herself together. She shouldn’t fall apart like this. She should be looking after her father.

“Do you think she thought you wouldn’t recognize the china?” Ruth said to Edek.

“Who knows?” said Edek. “To tell you the truth it did give me a big shock. I remember my mother pouring tea from this teapot many many times.”

“It was a beautiful teapot,” Ruth said. “The old couple obviously keep it for important occasions.”

“We did use this every day,” Edek said. “My mother had two sets with twelve cups and plates so that sometimes if the whole family was there, we could all have a cup of tea.”

“I can’t believe that the old woman served us tea in that service,” Ruth said. “Maybe she’s had it for so long she really thinks it was always hers.

Maybe she’s forgotten where she got it from.”

T O O M A N Y M E N

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“Maybe,” said Edek. “It is not worth it to try to think about what she thinks.”

They walked down the rest of the stairs. Ruth looked at the backyard. It was barren. Cracked concrete with weeds growing in the cracks. A row of four outhouses were at the back of the yard.

“They was the toilets for the whole building,” Edek said. Ruth could smell the toilets.

“Judging by the smell,” she said, “they are still being used.”

“We did have an inside toilet,” Edek said. “Not many people did have an inside toilet.” Edek walked over to a corner of the yard. Ruth didn’t follow him. She thought she should allow him some time on his own. She walked away from the toilets.

A large brown dog wandered into the yard. Ruth moved away from the dog. The dog followed her.

“There’s a dog in the yard,” Ruth called out to Edek. “Don’t let him get too close to you,” she said. Edek turned to look at the dog.

“He is all right,” he said to Ruth. “There is nothing to worry about. He is just a dog.” Edek was right, Ruth thought. There was no reason to worry about the dog. The dog was much less worrying than the humans around it.

“Shoo,” she said to the brown dog. The dog wandered off toward Edek.

Edek liked dogs. Edek patted the dog.

Edek had been looking at a small patch of earth at the end of the yard.

Ruth had been watching him. What was he thinking about? she thought.

His mother’s silver dish? His mother’s china? The meals that were eaten on the china? The people who were eating the meals?

Ruth heard footsteps behind her. The old man had come out into the yard. He walked up to Edek, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

“I told you to be extra nice,” he said. “She is not an easy woman!” Ruth understood what he was saying. She was surprised that she could understand.

“The flowers and the chocolates were not enough?” Edek said to the man.

“No,” said the old man. Ruth watched her father bite his lips in an effort to suppress a reply from slipping out.

“The chocolates weren’t large enough?” Ruth said to her father.

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L I L Y B R E T T

“Not for his wife,” Edek said.

“They were the biggest box I could find in Lódz,” Ruth said.

“I understand what the man is saying,” Edek said.

“So do I,” said Ruth.

“We think alike, like usual,” Edek said.

“Let’s offer him money,” said Ruth. “Why shouldn’t we?”

“Who knows what we would get for the money.” said Edek.

“Probably more lies,” said Ruth.

“Why should we pay for lies?” Edek said.

“I’ve wasted money on lesser things,” Ruth said.

“No,” said Edek. “I do not want to give them money.”

“It’s only money,” Ruth said. “You’re not really giving them anything.”

“It would give them pleasure to get money from me,” Edek said. “And I do not want to give them this pleasure.”

“Okay,” she said.

The old man had been looking apprehensively at Edek and Ruth. He looked as though he was trying hard to fathom the tone of their conversation. Ruth thought he had worked out that he was out of luck. That neither Edek nor Ruth was about to hand over a stash of cash. The old man looked bothered.

“My wife is really a very nice woman,” he said. “It just takes something extra to put her in a good enough mood to talk.”

“Tell him he can drop that shit,” Ruth said.

“Please,” Edek said. “Do not speak like this.” Ruth smiled at the man.

She could tell he understood the general tenor of her suggestion. He fidgeted and shifted.

“Maybe a small contribution to our lives?” he said. Edek didn’t answer.

Instead, he looked at the ground and pushed a piece of loose dirt around with his feet. He looked distracted and distressed.

“A small contribution?” the man said.

“I think we’ve already contributed enough,” Ruth said to Edek, “don’t you?” Edek was quiet. “Don’t let him get to you,” Ruth said to her father.

“He is not getting to me,” Edek said. He continued to poke at the piece of earth with his foot.

“What are you doing?” the old man said to Edek. “Looking for Jewish gold? We know they buried their gold.”

T O O M A N Y M E N

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“You know nothing else,” Edek said. “But you know this?”

“I know the Jews buried their gold,” the man said.

“So the news of Jewish gold got to Cze˛stochowa?” Edek said. The man nodded. A look of fury crossed Edek’s face. “Maybe your wife found this gold?” Edek said. Edek turned to Ruth. “There is nothing here for us,” he said. “Let us go.”

“You had a cousin who came here after the war?” the old man said to Edek. Edek spun around.

“Suddenly you remember something?” he said.

“You reminded me,” said the old man. “A neighbor saw the cousin digging in the yard. Next to this toilet, as a matter of fact.” The old man looked pleased with himself. He was grinning in excitement. His grin displayed all of his stained teeth. He looked at the piece of ground. “There’s nothing there,” he said to Edek. “We already checked.”

“You found nothing?” Edek said.

“We found nothing,” the old man said.

Edek nodded at the man. His nod contained disbelief, but Ruth thought that the disbelief was largely unnoticed by the old man.

“You don’t want to try again with my wife?” he said to Edek.

“No thank you,” Edek said.

Edek and Ruth left.

“How did the neighbor know that the cousin was a Jew?” Ruth said as they walked along Kamedulska Street.

“I told you. They can smell us,” said Edek.

“How did he know he was a cousin of yours?” Ruth said.

“A neighbor who went to school with my cousin did recognize him,”

Edek said. “My cousin did tell me this.”

“So this old man with his dirty, stained teeth and his air of innocence put two and two together and came up with four,” said Ruth.

“What do you mean?” said Edek.

“He worked out that a cousin of the son of the owners must be a cousin of yours,” she said.

“I suppose so,” said Edek.

“Who was the cousin?” said Ruth.

“It was my cousin Herschel,” said Edek. “Herschel did come back to Lódz after the war.”

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L I L Y B R E T T

“Where was he during the war?” Ruth asked.

“In a labor camp, in Germany,” said Edek.

“Where in Germany?” she said.

“Past Leipzig,” Edek said. “Near Chemnitz.”

“How was Herschel related to you?” Ruth said.

“He was the son of the sister of my brother Tadek’s wife,” Edek said.

“He was your sister-in-law’s sister’s child?” Ruth said.

“Yes,” said Edek.

“I don’t think he was your cousin then,” said Ruth.

“He was my cousin,” said Edek.

“Your brother and sister-in-law’s child would be your niece or nephew,”

Ruth said. “And this cousin who came back to Lódz would be their cousin, not your cousin.”

“What is wrong with you?” Edek said. “You think about things that it is not necessary to think about. Herschel was my cousin. We grew up together.”

“Sorry,” Ruth said.

“Herschel did stay in Lódz for one day,” Edek said. “It did take him one day to see that nobody was left here and that his life was in danger.

Every Pole he did see, in the neighborhood, looked upset to see him. ‘I thought that they killed you all,’ was what one of his old schoolteachers did say to him.”

“What happened to Herschel?” Ruth said.

“He did migrate to America,” Edek said. “In 1948. Your mum and me were still in the DP camp in Germany. He was very excited to go to America.”

Edek paused. He took a deep breath. “In America Herschel did meet a young girl, a Jew from Poland, too. He wrote to me to say how happy he was. Her name, I think, was Helcha. He did send to us a photograph of him and Helcha. Helcha was, as a matter of fact, already pregnant in the photograph.” Edek paused again.