The Sisters Weiss (21 page)

“But Mameh…” her son entreated.

“Listen to your mother,” Zevulun murmured, putting a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezing it encouragingly as he led him out the door, locking it behind him.

“She’s run away! She’s gone to Israel to be with her friend! She didn’t want the shidduch. Her friend says she thinks we were pushing her…”

“PUSHING HER? I pushed her? She never said she didn’t want…”

Pearl sat down, wringing her hands, a terrible sense of déjà vu washing over her. “Oh, the shame of it! What shall we tell her brothers and sisters? The shadchan? The boy and his family?”

“This is what you are worried about?”

She looked up at him, amazed. A great smile had broken out on his face.

“This is nothing to laugh about.”

“You and your white van … Yes, I can laugh. My daughter has made a foolish mistake, but she is young. She is not hurt. She is alive and well. Think of it, Pearl. Just think of it.” He put his arms around her and both of them wept, the tears falling into his beard and to the top of her head covering.

20

“Hello? Anybody there?” Hannah called out. It was early evening and the house was pitch-dark. When she put on the light, her jaw dropped. There were grooves in the old carpet, which had been vacuumed within an inch of its life. When she lifted her eyes, she realized that the entire apartment had been scrubbed and polished and vacuumed. Even the big living room window, permanently tattooed by city debris, had clearly been attacked if not completely vanquished by someone with equal parts endless determination, foolish optimism, and bottles of glass cleaner.

She wandered from the freshly made-up bad to the spotless bathroom to the gleaming kitchen. Even her characteristically empty fridge had been stocked with juices, fruits, vegetables, and dairy products. She took out a yogurt. It was a strange brand called Mehadrin, which was twice the price of other brands. She shook her head wonderingly, putting it back.

She flopped down on the couch. And the girl had done all this on no sleep, because how in heaven’s name could anyone sleep on this thing? Gratitude and guilt coupled with a vague irritation coursed through her. The door suddenly opened.

“Oh. You’re home,” Rivka said. She was breathing heavily, her cheeks a red burn of cold. Beside her was a large sack of laundry. “I took it down to the laundromat,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

Hannah got up, walking over to her and taking the bag. “Rivka, look at your hands!”

They were chapped and red, with deep grooves in the palms.

“It’s nothing. Rubber gloves I should have used. Next time, the bag will be lighter…”

“Rivka, Rivka, what am I going to do with you?”

“I did something wrong?”

She tried to compose her thoughts. “I didn’t ask you to do any of this, did I?”

“No, but I thought, a favor…”

“I took you in because it was the right thing to do. You don’t have to kill yourself trying to pay me back with housework. And all that expensive food you bought!”

“Cuzin, there is nothing to eat in this house.”

“I’m … I eat out mostly. Were you hungry?”

“I also ate out,” she said without elaborating, afraid of tainting her morning’s experiences by hanging them out for even more of her cousin’s withering disapproval. “I didn’t know which dishes were for milk and which for meat.”

“Like most people, I only have one for both. Are you going to need two brand-new sets of dishes?”

“No, no! I don’t want to make you trouble. I can use plastic, paper.”

“But what about pots and pans? I’ve got only one set of those, too. You won’t be able to cook anything…”

“I’ll manage, Cuzin. Don’t worry about me.”

“But that’s just it, Rivka. All day long, I sat doing just that. Worrying. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.”

“Do you want I should leave?” Rivka asked, holding her breath.

Hannah hesitated. “Look, Rivka, as you can see it’s a bit crowded here. But I can’t have you wandering around New York City.” Like prey, she thought, but didn’t say. “I hope you realize that it can be a very dangerous place out there for young women.”

Hannah’s young, but she talks like an alte kocker. She’s as bad as my mother, Rivka thought. But she said, “Good you are, Cuzin, to care about me! But I know what’s what. This is why I’m coming to you first instead of riding around all night on the subway.”

“What? That was your plan B?”

Rivka shrugged, a foolish smile spreading over her face.

Hannah shivered. “No more housecleaning, okay? You clean up after yourself, and I’ll clean up after myself. And I will do the laundry once a week in the basement.”

“But…”

“And no more food shopping for us both! You’ll go broke buying all those superexpensive brands. Explain to me why you can’t eat yogurt that costs half the price?”

“Unless a rabbi watches, the farmer might add pig’s milk, or camel’s milk, and then it would not be kosher.”

Hannah’s eyes widened in astonishment. “All dairy farms are under government supervision. It’s all mechanized, like a factory. You know how much work it would be to milk a pig? Or to find a camel?”

Rivka couldn’t think of an answer.

“Look, Rivka, I’m not trying to interfere with your religious beliefs. Goodness knows, my mother made sure I’m completely ignorant about that subject. All I’m saying is, shouldn’t you at least understand what you’re doing and why? Especially if it’s costing you a fortune?” Hannah exhaled, trying to calm herself. “Now let’s talk about something else. You didn’t leave home to wash my floors. You left for a reason, right? We need to start preparing you to start school.”

“But, I am … you know…” Rivka began.

Hannah’s eyes widened. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

Rivka put her hands on her suddenly hot cheeks. So, Hannah had nothing to do with this young man’s phone call! For reasons that were not entirely clear even to her, Rivka decided to keep it that way.

Hannah watched, bewildered, as a furious blush rose up Rivka’s neck. What have I said now? she wondered helplessly. The girl was a strange creature from another culture. She needed to respect that. Perhaps all the natives in Rivka’s tribe ran out and bought bowl cleaner and scrubbed the floors every time someone did them a favor? Perhaps it was embarrassing to them to be asked questions at all?

Hannah tried again. “Rivka, what is it you really want?”

“To be free,” she whispered, almost to herself, the realization clarifying her motivation for keeping secrets from this well-meaning but clueless stranger to whom she was now beholden.

“What does that mean?”

“I need a job.”

“But you’re so young!”

“I need money for my own place! Please don’t be offended, Cuzin, but I don’t like living here.”

Hannah swallowed hard, mortified. “Why? Have I been inhospitable? Do you feel I’m pushing you out?”

“No. It’s because I have no place to sleep.”

Aah. Of course.

“And not you and not me will have any privacy. I don’t want you should take the place of my mameh.”

Fair enough, Hannah thought, understanding but feeling surprisingly wounded. It was like feeding an alley cat who turns around and scratches your face. “Why don’t you go up to the employment offices at Lord and Taylor or Macy’s? I’m sure they are looking for help to get them through the January sales. But they’ll all ask for references. Do you have any?”

“Vus is dus?”

“Um, have you ever worked anywhere? Would your employer be willing to say nice things about you?”

She shook her head. “Sometimes, I babysit. But no one must call people I know. They would right away tell my mameh and tateh.”

Hannah hadn’t thought of that.

“Also, my mameh and sisters they shop in Lord and Taylor and Macy’s.”

That was true. Hannah often saw Hassidic women buying modest, fashionable clothing in upscale department stores, especially during sales. She brightened: “There are some hip clothing stores near my mother’s gallery in Chelsea. I doubt the women in your family would ever set foot in one of them. My mother might even know the owners. Do you want me to call and ask her?”

“I don’t know…” Rivka hesitated.

“What’s the problem?”

“Your mother…”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Why did you show up on my doorstep and not hers? She’s got a much bigger place. And she is your aunt, after all.”

“I just couldn’t … It would have been like calling Rabbi Elisha ben Avuya…”

“You’ve totally lost me now.”

“Well, Cuzin, this is the gantse megillah…”

“Rivka, can you please talk English?”

“Oh, sorry. It means ‘the whole story.’ About two thousand years ago, during the time when our Holy Temple stood in Jerusalem, four rabbis said the secret, holy name of God and ascended to Paradise. When they got back, one went crazy, the second one died, the third—Rabbi Akiva—returned safe and sound. But Elisha ben Avuya came back without his faith. He became a heretic, and so he is called the Other. He’s a legend.”

“My mother is a legend?”

“You have no idea…” Rivka shook her head.

“But not exactly a folk hero.” Hannah smiled drily. “By the way, what exactly did he see up there that turned him off, this Elisha ben…?”

“Avuya. He saw an angel sitting down, writing up Rabbi Avuya’s good deeds. The rabbi was shocked. ‘I have always taught my students that in the World to Come there will be no eating, drinking, or sitting.’ The angel got into big trouble for letting a mortal see him misbehaving and was punished. But to make him feel better, the angel was also given permission not to write down Rabbi Avuya’s good deeds anymore, which would keep Rabbi Avuya out of Paradise when the time came. When Rabbi Avuya heard this, he decided then and there that if all his good deeds and Torah study would earn him no reward in the World to Come, he might as well … ‘live it up,’ I think you call it? in this world.”

“And that’s how you see my mother?” Hannah asked, wondering if she should laugh or be offended. “A heretic who’s abandoned all morality and is ‘living it up’ in this world as if there is no tomorrow?”

“No, no! Not me! It’s just that … in our mishpoocha…”

“Rivka, English!”

“Sorry. In our family, she is like such a legend. But I myself admire her. She changed my life. She’s the reason I’m here. I never believed all the terrible things they said about her. I don’t think my mameh did either. Why else would she keep your mother’s letter, and the clipping about her from the newspaper?”

“What did my mother’s letter say?”

Rivka was silent.

“Rivka?”

“That she was sorry she’d called the police on Bubbee and Zaydie.”

Hannah was speechless.

“Your mother never mentioned…?”

“Oh, sure, of course,” Hannah lied, mortified at how little she knew. “And the clipping?”

“For Best Photographer. In the picture, your mother is getting this prize. It made me think: if she is such a sinner, why would God reward her like that? No, He would have punished her with a terrible disease, or an accident. But she looks so young, so happy, so pretty. That’s when I understood that all my life, I’d been told lies, when I understood that it wasn’t impossible.”

“That what wasn’t impossible?”

“To choose your own life, no matter what anyone else thought about it. Do you have any idea how strange that idea is for people brought up like me? You asked what I want. That’s all I want, Cuzin, the very same thing. To choose!”

Hannah’s eyes softened. “Look, tomorrow, I’ll get you one of those blow-up mattresses. They’re very comfortable. Then, I’ll ask around about classes for GED-equivalency exams, and also jobs. Don’t feel like there’s any rush. You can stay here as long as you need to.”

Rivka reached out, hugging her. “Thank you, Hannah. So much. You can’t imagine how much.”

Hannah stepped back, embarrassed. “Well, that’s okay. Don’t mention it. Now you go get some rest after slaving away all day to clean up this dump. I’ll sleep in the sleeping bag tonight.”

“I can’t let you do that!”

“Yes, you can and will. I’ll be fine.” Hannah gave Rivka’s hand a small, intimate squeeze, then watched as she tiredly entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

21

“Hannah darling! To what do I owe this?” Rose said, opening wide the door to her studio. Hannah never came here, complaining that the chemicals gave her a headache, something Rose’s therapist had long ago interpreted as the continuation of Hannah’s childhood resentment and jealous rivalry toward the pursuit that took up so much of her mother’s time and passion. “Aren’t you going to be late for classes?”

“Mom, you’ll never guess who’s shown up at my doorstep.”

“Prince Harry?”

“This is not a joke. Rivka.”

Rose looked at her blankly.

“Your niece!”

Rose shook her head, stunned. “After everything we spoke about…”

“I didn’t call her. She just showed up, soaked to the bone, on New Year’s Eve…”

“She’s been at your house two weeks…?”

“Look, Mom, I knew how you felt about it so I tried not to involve you … to figure this out myself…”

“Two weeks! Before you say another word, tell me this: where do her parents think she is?”

“They think she’s with her friend in Israel, a girl who has promised to lie for her.”

She thought of her sister Pearl’s anguish and fear, the feeling sinking deep into her stomach like a stone. But then something else took over. “Are you sure no one else knows she’s with you? Because the Modesty Patrol is going to be banging down your door at four o’clock in the morning with iron bars!”

“If they were coming, they’d have been here already. Besides, she claims she’s never heard of such a thing.”

“Either she’s really that naive, or she’s a liar. Let me think a minute … I have to … I’m in the middle … just wait, okay?”

She walked into her darkroom to wash and hang up the last negatives still soaking in fixer. When she’d finished, she pulled off her rubber gloves and turned off the light, closing the door behind her.

“When are you going to switch to digital photos and banish these carcinogens from your life?”