Only Yesterday (19 page)
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By now, Isaac has forgotten the purpose of his ascent to the Land of Israel. In every single thing, a Jew carries out his mission, and there’s no difference if he plows and sows or mixes paints. Some of our comrades ascended to work the earth and are idle, while Isaac is a crafts-man. Some of Isaac’s comrades envy Isaac. Some ascended before he did and still don’t have any work to do. And by now they have stopped praising work as a repair of the soul and the resurrection of the nation, but want to work as salvation from hunger, for hunger screams from their belly and salvation tarries.
He comes across veteran laborers whom he saw at first as aris-tocrats because they had come to the Land a year or two before he did, now there’s no difference between him and them, except that most of them are idle and he’s working. And because they are idle, they don’t earn anything, and because they don’t earn anything they lack bread and they borrow a Bishlik or half a Bishlik from him. And if they don’t pay him back, he doesn’t put a lien on their property. All Children of Israel are comrades, especially in the Land of Israel, Isaac told that old man from Hungary he met on the ship to the Land of Israel, and Isaac doesn’t belie his words. No longer do they belit-tle Isaac for being from Galicia, even though his accent declares his origin. Nor is he impressed by the accent of his comrades, which, just between us, is nothing to be impressed by, for you can see the
influence of the Russian accent in it. Our comrade Isaac isn’t an Aus-trian patriot, and doesn’t distinguish between one Jew and another, yet he does have a bit of pride that he was born in the shadow of the kingdom of grace, where everyone is equal before the Emperor, Jews as well as non-Jews, not like those Russians who are persecuted in their own land.
Those were good days for Isaac. He makes a living and is satisfied with his work. Some work he does for Jews and some for Gentiles, some for Ashkenazim and some for Sephardim. Sometimes he paints the inside of a house and sometimes the outside, for most of the houses of Jaffa are built of stones drawn from the sea which aren’t polished properly and are then whitewashed and plastered and painted to enhance its charm for folks. In the past, they built with big, distinguished stones from the remnants of palaces left over from ancient times, now that they build with porous stones, they paint them red. To make a long story short, every day he has work, for every day new houses pop up from the sand. A person rises early in the morning and sees an empty lot, comes back at night and doesn’t recognize it, for they have brought beams and stones there and have started building a house. Four generations ago, this Jaffa didn’t have a Minyan, and now it is being built. And even the painters we considered superfluous don’t go looking for work in the settlements any-more, and don’t take scraping work, but are busy with their craft and support their family. New immigrants come, and owners of lots put up houses for them. Isaac earns more than at any other time. He goes to work in the morning and comes home in the evening, and prepares himself for Sonya, for in the evening she went. And after they dine together they go out walking, sometimes to the Baron’s garden and sometimes to the seashore or on the hill of sand called the Hill of Love. Young men and women sit there in couples and sing “Take me in under your wing,” and other languid songs, and a wind blows among the sands bringing good smells from the vineyards and from the desert where the big city of Tel Aviv was later built, and the firmament spreads out its black blue and stars twinkle above and smile to the Land below, in appeasement and yearning, and the waters of the sea lie in their lair, sometimes going on silently and sometimes
flooding furiously, but not flowing over their boundary. Happy is he who sits in the shadow of a beloved soul and is not solitary and for-lorn as a desert.
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How good were those days, and better were the nights. Isaac does his work and sees a reward in his toil. By now Isaac has forgotten the days when he went hungry, and has taken his mind off everything that muddies the spirit. When a letter comes from his home he reads it and tosses it aside to reread it, but he doesn’t, for he is busy with his craft. And when he comes home from work in the evening, he has to prepare for Sonya. And when he comes home from Sonya and goes to bed, he is immediately overcome by sleep and doesn’t feel the night departing. Days and nights that were long are now so short you wonder at how and when they passed.
Isaac comes back from Sonya’s, happy and goodhearted, and since he is happy—he is happy with everyone. There’s a night guard near Isaac’s house, a poor and wretched Arab who has nothing but his dog. Isaac comes and chats with him. He pulls the dog’s ears and praises him to his face. Said the guard, What do you say my brother, this dog is handsome. A dog that was stolen from me was handsome. His skin was as brown as the eyes of a doe. Said Isaac, Brown skin you want? Tomorrow, you’ll have a brown dog. Said the guard, You’ve got one like that? Said Isaac, You want a red one, tomorrow you’ll find a reddish one. Said the guard, A kennel of dogs you have, my brother? Said Isaac, Not even the tail of a dog do I have. Said the guard, You conjure them up by magic? Said Isaac, Various colors do I have, and if you want, I’ll paint your dog brown or red or yellow or green. Said the guard, Never have I seen a green dog. Said Isaac, Yet I can make you a green dog. The guard laughed and they laughed together.
Said Isaac, I saw a dog that held a stick in its mouth and didn’t let go of it for a moment. Said the guard, Was it made of sugar? Said Isaac, No, of silk. Said the guard, Such a dog doesn’t bite and such a stick doesn’t beat. Said Isaac, Who knows? The guard rolled back his lips and laughed. Said Isaac, Don’t you believe it? Said the guard, I would take the stick out of the dog’s teeth and hit the dog
with it. Said Isaac, Who is like unto you? You even hit your own women. Said the guard, He who is worthy of the stick gets beaten. Isaac laughed and the guard laughed.
Good were those days and good were the nights, and good was Sonya to Isaac. And even though she is an educated girl from a well-to-do family in a big city, and he is a simple fellow from a poor family in a small town, they are seen as bride and groom. In truth those words, bride and groom, are not customary here. But Isaac who thinks the way our forefathers thought, savors many flavors in those words. And sometimes he imagines writing to his father and an-nouncing the whole thing to him, and Father and his brothers and sisters would all be joyous and happy. And his brother Yudele would send him a poem in honor of the event, for Yudele is a poet and writes poems. And people would come and congratulate Father and would be stunned and amazed. This Isaac who doesn’t know any living language won in the Land of Israel an educated bride who studied in a Gymnasium. And the fact that his fiancée studied in a Gymnasium was likely to make an impression in a town where there wasn’t even a Gymnasium for boys. And so the envious won’t say she has some defect, Isaac intended to ask Sonya for a picture to send to Father so folks would see. And even though the image of Sonya doesn’t show the whole nature of Sonya, it can still indicate that she is handsome. And when Isaac reviews Sonya’s nature in his mind, he loves her twice as much. And if their comrade Rabinovitch pushes himself between them, Isaac shifts his eyes away from him as if he isn’t there. If Rabinovitch persists and doesn’t budge, Isaac hides his head in Sonya’s lap.
Between Sonya and Isaac
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Good were those days. But the days that came after were not good. Blessed is he who had his first kiss with a maiden whom others had not yet kissed, and woe to him who kissed a maiden whom others had already kissed before him. For no special reason, Sonya changed her ways with Isaac.
Isaac came home from work as he did every day. He brought up water from the well and washed his face and hands, put on clean clothes and prepared for Sonya. He waited but she didn’t come. And as is the wont of a man waiting for a maid and she tarries and doesn’t come, it seemed to him that never in his life had he needed her as at that moment. Time slows down and doesn’t budge. God forbid, maybe something happened to her? Seven times a minute, Isaac got up to go to her and seven times a minute he jumped up to see if she was coming. When his patience ran out, he went to her house.
Sonya lived in a small alley that has no name. You can’t consider it in Neve Shalom, for a desert of sand separates them. And you can’t see it in Neve Tsedek, for a group of houses separates them. Those are the houses of the Odessa engineer who ascends to Jaffa every autumn and builds himself a house to live in and when he returns to Odessa at the beginning of summer, he sells the house.
Isaac went to Sonya’s house. His knees trembled with fear, perhaps she is sick, for if she was healthy, wouldn’t she have come? Sonya is sick, Sonya is sick, Sonya is sick, Isaac said, like someone muttering incantations over an illness, and maybe they’ve already taken her to the hospital. And all the while he’s trudging here, he should be running to the hospital. He raised his eyes and saw that he
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was standing at her room and that there was light in the room. Isaac understood that everything he had imagined was truth, Sonya is lying sick and the doctor is standing over her, taking her pulse and writing her a prescription. I shall hurry, said Isaac, as long as the pharmacy is open, and bring her the medicine.
In the end, all his worries about Sonya evaporated. Sonya isn’t sick, Sonya isn’t sick, Sonya isn’t sick, he repeated three times, against those three times he had said before. On the contrary, Sonya is healthy, Sonya is healthy. And she is sitting and waiting for me. There is a spirit in man. Sometimes a person changes his habit to add spice to his actions. Every day Sonya has been coming to me and today she wants me to come to her. I was a fool not to think of that. A new joy enveloped his heart and he forgot all his grief, and already saw himself opening the door and Sonya coming and jumping to meet him, stretching out her warm hands and caressing his head. He shut his eyes and held his breath, and inhaled a hint of those things he saw in his imagination.
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Sonya didn’t jump up to meet Isaac and didn’t stretch out her arms to hug him, as she did when he was mistaken in his calculations. Sonya sat silent on an easy chair she had bought that day from Princess Mira, and a lamp was lit in front of her, and heaps of stockings were laid on her lap. Since the day Isaac first met Sonya, he hadn’t seen her mending a stocking, now all her stockings came together and asked her to mend them. Sonya went on with her work, as if she didn’t see Isaac.
His knees were about to give way, but his anger seemed to hold them up. With an effort he said, You didn’t come to me. Sonya replied, It seems I didn’t come to you. Why? he asked. Sonya answered, If I didn’t come to you, you came to me. Said Isaac, But this welcome you give me is a bit strange. Said Sonya, If you had sent me a telegram that you were coming, I would have ordered all the women dancers of Damascus in your honor. Isaac asked with affected docil-ity, May I sit down? Said Sonya, If you want to, sit. He took a chair and sat. Said Sonya, Not that chair, there are threads on it.
Isaac stood in the room he knew by heart, ever since that night he came here for the first time, when they strolled together and talked about Rabinovitch and Sonya said, Look, you say that any-place Rabinovitch is is his place, but not every place a person achieves is flattering for him. The room is neither small nor big and it has two windows, one window looks onto the street and one win-dow overlooks the narrow alley where no one passes. And in the room is a bed and a sofa and a table and a closet. And the bed is covered with a colorful blanket, embroidered with a yellow dog carrying a stick in his mouth. And over the bed hangs a picture of the murdered Berele. And even though the whole world meant nothing to Isaac compared to his grief, he turned his attention to that blanket whose edge was tattered and he was indignant with Sonya; before she tended to her stockings, which was not at all appropriate when he came to visit her, she had better take care of the blanket so it won’t get even more tattered.
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Said Sonya, Didn’t you want to sit down? Isaac replied, I see that you’re in a bad mood. Is there a reason for that? Said Sonya, Anyone who knows the first thing about logic knows that there is nothing without a reason. Said he, Well then, what is this reason? I’m busy, said she. Said Isaac, Apparently I distract you from your work. Do you want me to go? Said Sonya, Excuse me for not seeing you out. You see that I’ve got a lot of work. What do you think of this chair I bought today? Said Isaac, It should be repainted. Said Sonya, No need. I’ll put a cushion on it and cover its flaws. Said Isaac, If there’s no need, there’s no need.
Mme.
Puah Hofenstein entered. Good evening,
Mme.
Zweiering, said
Mme.
Hofenstein and adjusted her eyeglasses; good evening, Mr. Kumer, I almost didn’t see you. I see that I’m disturb-ing. Said Sonya, On the contrary, I’m glad you came. Said
Mme.
Hofenstein, You’re busy,
Mme.
Zweiering? Said Sonya, When a per-son sits idle and hasn’t anything to do, he checks the holes and cracks and takes things out of them that he wanted to destroy, and takes care of them, just to keep himself busy. Said
Mme.
Hofenstein, Tolstoyalready said that ever since the sin of the First Adam, a man can’t sit idle. And so you’re mending your stockings. A nice thing to do. Stockings are something you can’t do without. I came to
Mme.
Zweiering to ask if you can come to the kindergarten tomorrow, I want to take a day off.Said Sonya, Are you going to greet your brother at the port?
Mme.
Hofenstein blushed and stammered, My brother isn’t coming yet, and who knows if he will come, I might go on an outing tomorrow. With Ossip, Sonya thought to herself, as if it were a simple mat-ter for Puah Hofenstein, principal of a kindergarten, to leave the children because she desired to go on an outing with Ossip.Puah Hofenstein loves children and her whole life depends on the little ones in the kindergarten. And even if they gave her the whole world, she wouldn’t leave her young chicks. But something extraordinary happened. Ossip is about to return to Russia. Why? Because he escaped from serving in the army and his father has to pay a fine. And he’s a poor man and doesn’t have the money to pay. So Ossip is returning to Russia to serve in the army and release his fa-ther from the payment. And Puah Hofenstein wants to spend one day with him before he goes.
Never had it occurred to Puah Hofenstein that her heart could accept a person like Ossip, for nothing binds him to the Land, neither working the Land nor the Hebrew language. And even she, that is, Puah, doesn’t bind him at all. And she doesn’t know that it is she who made Ossip leave the Land, for ever since she pulled him closer to her, he saw himself falling into a deep pit of petite bour-geoisie. Things had reached such a pass that once he had even shined his shoes in her honor. But he took vengeance on her, and as he left her house, he rubbed one foot on top of the other and soiled them. Never had Sonya seen Puah Hofenstein as a woman, or
Ossip as a man. To her, the two of them were like an idea. Now that they are going on an outing, they were exalted in her eyes, and she said to her gently,
Mme.
Hofenstein can rely on me, I shall do my best to take your place. Although I doubt that there’s anyone here who is worthy to take your place. Isaac took his leave as
Mme.
Hofenstein was wiping her eyeglasses and watching him with dim eyes.I
After he had taken a few steps, he suddenly stood still, like a man who has lost something and needs to look for it. He squinted his eyes and scrunched up his nose. And when he scrunched up his nose, his heart also scrunched up. The sky was full of little stars, but the night was dark, and in the darkness, Sonya’s lamp shone. Well, said Isaac to himself, well, I came to her, I came to her, because she didn’t come to me, she didn’t come to me, and she sat there, she sat there, with stockings on her lap, on her lap, because stockings are wont to be torn, and when they’re torn, they have to be mended, mended. At any rate, what is amazing is that just when I came to her, just at that time, she was mending her stockings. And that Hofenstein woman suddenly fell into the house as I was sitting with Sonya and she was telling things about the sin of the First Adam. And once again he saw Sonya’s stockings lying in her lap, and all the anger in his heart was uprooted from his heart and a new affection caressed his heart.
Why am I holding the handkerchief in my hand? Did I want to wipe my tears? I wasn’t crying was I? But it seemed to me that I wanted to sneeze. It seemed to me, but I didn’t sneeze. Achoo. When it seemed to me I was going to sneeze, I didn’t sneeze, and now when it doesn’t seem to me that I was going to sneeze, I did sneeze. Now let’s go. Let’s go, since there’s no point standing still. Indeed, I’m not standing still, since I’m walking. And I’m walking because I’m not standing still. This is clear to everyone, even to someone who didn’t learn the first thing about logic. Sonya is an educated girl, and as for me, if I hadn’t met Sonya, I also would have increased my knowledge, since before I met her I used to sit at home and read books. On the other hand, there’s no denying that I did acquire some knowledge from her, but knowledge a person acquires from fleeting conversa-tions is not like information a person acquires from an assiduous reading of books. So, because of the sin of the First Adam. Didn’t his sin come from Eve, so why do they hang the sin on Adam?
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Isaac arrived at his house and went into his room, and came to his bed, hesitating whether to take off his clothes. She is sleeping, Isaac
whispered, and even if she isn’t sleeping it’s impossible to go back to her at this hour. Now I have nothing to do but get into my bed. Whether I shall sleep—is doubtful.
He took off his clothes and shoes, shook the sand out of them and lingered over every single piece of clothing. Finally, he got into bed and wrapped himself in his sheet, shut his eyes, and recited the She’ma at bedtime. He drew out its words and repeated every single word, like a person returning in the dark of night to a dark house and examining all his keys to find which one of them will open the lock. Finally he opened his eyes wide like a child waiting for his mother to come tell him good night. Finally his eyes closed by themselves and he fell asleep.