The Dressmaker's Son (12 page)

CHAPTER 24

Misha stood by the
door to Mishka’s bedroom and watched him playing with the wooden puzzle
Catherine had gotten him.  He had turned five in March and Catherine was
already having him tutored in history and math.  He was a smart boy.  To avoid
confusion, they had decided to call Samuel Mishka, a nickname for Misha or
Mikhail.

Catherine was
standing behind his little chair and for a moment, he studied her.  Her long
brown hair was swept up on her head.  She was not an unattractive woman, but
rather just plain.  Her brown eyes and face were round.  She had a thin mouth
which produced a tight smile.  Tall, almost five-foot-nine, and with small
breasts and slender hips, there was little voluptuousness about her.  Most of
the time she was very pleasant, but she could be high-spirited and mean if you
crossed her.  She had just wanted to be a wife and mother, and now Mishka had
given her that.  It had been difficult in the beginning with Mishka crying
constantly for his mama and not eating.  At night when he was told to say his
prayers, he would say a Hebrew prayer.  Finally Misha told him that in this
house they said a different prayer and his mother would teach it to him.  At
first the child refused.  Misha would not stand for this and spanked him hard. “In
this house,” he shouted. “You listen to your father.”

Mishka whimpered
for hours.  But he was clever as well as smart, so he started saying the prayer
that his father wanted and then would get in bed and recite the
Shema
when he was alone.  He would say it in Hebrew and then in English the way his
mother had taught him.  “Here o Israel the Lord Our God, the Lord is One.”  He
always added, “And, God, please help my mama to find me.”

            Misha’s career had gone
well.  He had been promoted to major and his father-in-law had made him a part
of the inner circle of Czar Nicholas II.  The regiment he commanded was very
involved in helping to put down the rising Bolshevik revolution. “The
Bolsheviks have spread their poison everywhere,” he had told Catherine.  “They
mean to have a revolution in all the provinces.  Even in Warsaw they have
groups growing in number. Unlike the Bund members who seem to want reform, they
mean to overthrow the czar.”

            “Can’t your army put
them down?” Catherine asked.

            “We are using the army
and the Secret Police,” Misha responded.  “But it is scary.  I wonder sometimes
if the czar realizes how much danger he is in.  And Germany is rattling its
sword everywhere.  We could be at war before we turn around.”

            “My God, Misha. You’re
scaring me,” Catherine exclaimed. “What will happen to us if there is a war?”

            Misha almost laughed.  “I
will have to fight,” he replied. “I am a soldier, Catherine, a major in the czar’s
army.  Don’t worry about it now. Anyway, even if we go to the war, I don’t see
St. Petersburg being attacked.”

            At that moment Mishka
shouted, “Done! I did all the pieces, father.”

            Misha smile,” You are
my smart boy.  It looks like mother will have to get you a harder puzzle.”  He
came into the room and kissed Catherine on the cheek.  “I’ll go now,” he said. “I
will be home for dinner.”

            Catherine leaned over and
kissed him on the cheek. “Till then, Misha,” she said.

            As Misha was leaving,
Catherine ran to catch up to him. “I almost forgot,” she said.  “We got an
invitation to a ball from the Count and Countess Fedorov.  It is in about five
weeks.  I will send a reply that we are coming if that’s okay, and I am going
to go and buy a new gown for it.”

            “Of course,” Misha
replied smiling. “Their parties are always nice.  And far be it from you not to
take advantage of an opportunity for a new gown.”

CHAPTER 25

The first three
days at sea were a nightmare for Rose.  It was so rough that she threw up
constantly until there was nothing but green bile.  Fortunately the steward was
solicitous and kept checking on her and bringing her crackers and water. On the
fourth day, the seas were calmer, and although Rose still didn’t leave the
room, she felt better.  On the fifth day she finally went down to the dining
room wearing one of the new dresses Rebekah had made her.

            She sat at a table with
a lovely couple and the wife’s mother.  The couple had immigrated to America
like Rachael and Jacob and had come back to Russia three years later to bring an
elderly aunt over.  Their parents were both dead, and Aunt Fanny, the young husband’s
mother’s sister, had never married and was all alone. She had been like a
second mother to him and he wanted her to be safe in America. She spent the
rest of the trip with this couple, exchanging stories.

            Toward the end of the
trip, Rose began to get pains in her left side.  She attributed it to the
retching she had done during the first three days.  The pains came and went and
were never severe, so Rose chose to ignore them.

As she approached
the processing building after walking down the gang plank, she heard several
people calling out, shouting people’s names. And then she saw them, Rachael and
Jacob, waving and shouting at her. “Mama, over here. Mama!”  They ran up to her.
Rachael grabbed Rose and held her tight. “I promised I wouldn’t cry,” she said
through her tears. “I can’t believe you’re really here, Mama.”

            Rose hugged her back. “Of
course, I’m here,” she said stifling her own tears. Then she turned to Jacob
and hugged him. “My son, Jacob,” she whispered to him. “Thank you. Thank you
for all you have done.”

            Embarrassed by the praise,
Jacob’s voice was husky with emotion. “You’re our mama. We have prayed for this
moment, and now here you are, but it was also Rebekah who made this happen.”  Then
he let her go and told her that they couldn’t go in with her, but they would
meet her by the luggage when she was done.

            The process went
smoothly and when they were all gathered getting the luggage; Rose asked where
the children were.

            “You know Jacob, Mama. He
wanted to surprise them,” Rachael said. “They have no idea that you are
coming.”

            When they arrived at
the store, Jacob helped the driver unload Rose’s suitcases. He carried two and
Rachael grabbed the third as they walked into the store.

Solomon was
waiting on a customer and Miriam was straightening a stack of fabric on a long
table.

            “Can’t anyone get any
service around here,” Jacob said in one of his loud voices.

Solomon replied
without turning around. “If you’ll give me just a minute, sir, I’ll be right
with you.”

“Well,” Jacob
answered frostily. “I can’t wait all day.”

Finally Solomon
raised his head to answer, a look of annoyance on his face—until he saw Rose.

            “Bubbe,” he cried out,
“My God, I can’t believe it.”

            “Don’t blaspheme,”
Jacob scolded Solomon. “And come over and give Bubbe a hug.  I’ll finish with
Mrs. Lipinski.”

            Solomon ran to Rose,
but Miriam had looked up to see who the obnoxious man was and was already
standing there with her arms wrapped around her.

            “I can’t believe it,”
she kept squealing, “Why didn’t you tell us, Mama?”

            “You know your papa,”
she answered. “He loves surprises. Come, let’s take Bubbe upstairs. Is Leah
watching Gabe?”

            “Yes, Mama, and Joshua
is working.”

            Rachael nodded at Mrs. Lipinski.
“Nice to see you, Mrs. Lapinski,” she said. “Hope the family is well.”

            “Yes, thank you. Every
day we give thanks we are well. Who is this, Rachael?” she asked, looking at
Rose.

            Rachael beamed, “This
is my mama, Rose,” she told her. “She has come to live with us from Russia.”

            “Well, welcome Rose,”
Mrs. Lipinski said warmly in Yiddish. “Welcome to America. You have a fine
family.”

            “I know,” Rose said. “Thank
you.”

            “We’ll go upstairs now,
Jacob,” Rachael said.

            Jacob nodded.

            Rachael stopped at the
door to the flat.  “Wait here, Mama,” she told Rose. “I want to send Leah out
to surprise her.”

            When she went inside,
Leah was sitting on the floor playing with Gabe, rolling a toy car back and
forth. She bent down and kissed Leah on the cheek. “Thank you for watching Gabe,
Leah. Go out in the hall.  Papa and I have brought you a surprise.”

            “What is it, Mama?” Leah
squealed.

            “It’s a surprise. Go!"

            The next squeal was
even louder. “Bubbe! I can’t believe it. How did you get here?" She
grabbed Rose by the hand and pulled her into the house. “Mama, it’s Bubbe,” she
squealed again.

            Rose was looking at
Leah. “My goodness, child, you are all grown up. How old are you now?”

            “Fourteen, Bubbe. And
I’m old enough to take care of Gabe,” she answered, turning to Rachael, who was
holding Gabe in her arms. She smiled and walked toward Rose. “Meet Gabe, Mama, your
newest grandchild.”

            Rose stretched out her
arms.  “Come to Bubbe, Gabe,” she said.

            Gabe reached for her
and Rose held him tight. “Little Levi,” she said softly, this time not being
able to hold back the tears. “It’s your Bubbe.”     

             Rachael smiled, “We
call him Gabe, Mama.”

            “I know, Rachael. It
just took me back for a minute.”

“I’ll fix tea,
Mama. Come into the kitchen.”

            Rachael and Rose sat at
the table going over all that had happened.  Rachael had a million questions
about Rebekah and what she was going to do.

            “You should see her,
Rachael. She has cut her hair short and dyed it red and is wearing fake
eyeglasses.  You would walk past her on the street.”

            “I’m sure I would, Mama.
Does she have a plan?”

            “Well, half a plan,”
Rose said smiling. “She is going to get a job doing alterations and make a plan
from there. You know, Rebekah. She will find a way to get Samuel.”

            “I know, Mama. And how
was your crossing? You look a little pale.”

            “The first three days
were horrible.  I threw up till there was nothing left.  After that the seas
got calmer and finally I was able to go to the dining room for meals.  I sat
with a lovely couple and their aunt. They had come to get their aunt and bring
her to America because she was all alone in Russia. They live in a place called
Chicago. I didn’t know where it was, but I have their address.”

            “America is a big place.
Solomon has a map; we will look it up for you later. Now I’ll finish getting
dinner ready and go help Jacob.”

            “What can I do,
Rachael,” Rose asked.

            “Nothing, Mama.  Let me
show you where you will sleep.  Jacob will bring your suitcases up later, but
meanwhile you can wash up and take a nap.”

            “I won’t argue this
time, Rachael. I am tired. But if I am to stay here, you know I will be
helping.”

            Rachael laughed. “Of
course, Mama. Why do you think we brought you here?”

Rose just smiled. “My
children have made me the happiest woman in the world.”

CHAPTER 26

Rebekah stood
outside the train station taking in the changes around her.  The street was
filled with both carriages and taxis.  There had been only carriages when she
was here as a young girl.  She found a taxi right in front of the station and
the driver took her bags and threw them in the back.  “Where to, please?” he
asked when she was settled.

“I’m looking for
an inexpensive hotel,” she replied. “Preferably on Nevsky Prospekt.  I hope to
work in one of the stores here.”

The driver smiled.
  He was in his mid-twenties.  His hair was blond and cut very short.  Rebekah
noticed the green of his eyes when he turned and smiled. “Which one?” he asked.

“Well,” Rebekah
replied. “I am an excellent seamstress and was hoping to find something in one
of the better shops or department stores.  Actually, I haven’t been in St. Petersburg
since I was a young girl, so I don’t know.  I remember a department store
called Gostiny Dvor.  I thought I’d try there.”

“You’ve got the
right idea, lady.  It is still one of the best in town.  This might be your
lucky day.  I have a cousin who works there.”

Rebekah couldn’t
quite believe her luck.  “If you don’t mind, I would love to talk to her.  Maybe
if she feels I am qualified, she could help me out.”

“Well,” the driver
replied cautiously. “I really don’t know.  Tell me about yourself.  Where are
you from? What brings you to Petrograd?”

Rebekah had
forgotten the name change by the czar to Petrograd, a change he made because he
felt St. Petersburg sounded too Germanic.  She had rehearsed her story over and
over again.  “My name is Larissa Fedatov,” she started.  “I have been in
America for the last few years.  I went there with my husband, but he died of
pneumonia last year, and I decided to come back.  I have no family there and
wanted to be back in Russia.  Ever since my father brought me to St. Petersburg—I
mean Petrograd—I always thought I would like to live here.  I have enough money
to find an apartment or room until I find a job.”

“You haven’t
picked the best time to return, Larissa.  Look around at the people just
loitering in the streets.  Some are on strike and others are trying to get food.
 Petrograd isn’t the safest place anymore.  The war has gone really badly for
us.  We are only getting a third of the fuel and food we got before the war.  It
all goes to the troops, and the farmers can’t till their land because not only
have their horses been taken from them for the troops, but also many of the
farmers themselves have been conscripted into the army. ”

He paused for a
minute.  “And there is terrible political unrest.  Just be careful.  Don’t go
out at night by yourself.”

“You’re scaring
me,” Rebekah replied.

“I don’t mean to.  I
just wouldn’t want to see anything happen to anyone as beautiful as you.  Where
are you from originally?” he asked, changing the subject. “And how do I know
you can sew?”

“I am originally
from Zlatapol.  And as for my sewing abilities, I made the dress I am wearing
and I worked for a very big department store in America designing dresses and
doing alterations for them.”

The driver turned
to her briefly. “My name is Alexey,” he told her.  “Your dress is beautiful,
Larissa. There is a hotel here on Nevsky Prospekt that I think will do for you.
 They also have little one-room apartments that you may like.  I will drop you
there.  When you are ready, go to Gustiny Dvor. My cousin is Zoya Anatoly.  She
works in the accounting department in one of the most expensive women’s shops
there.  The owner has two other women’s shops.  Go there and ask for her.  I
will tell her about you and she can introduce you to the person who does the
hiring.”

Rebekah took out a
little notebook from her purse and wrote down the information.  “Thank you,
Alexey. That is so nice of you,” she said smiling.  “Taking your taxi could be
one of the best things I ever did.”

He chuckled as he
pulled in front of a fairly large old building.  “Don’t thank me, yet,” he said.
 “Let’s see if you get the room or the job! And Larissa, let me give you some
advice.  Don’t go telling strangers that you have money saved with you.  The
wrong person could really take advantage of you.”

“Thank you, Alexey.
 I know you are right about that.  I appreciate the advice.  I’m sure everyone
isn’t as nice as you are.”

He carried her
bags into the lobby of the building.  It was a large space with highly polished
marble floors, several comfortable couches and a few chairs with tables holding
crystal lamps.  Period paintings decorated the walls.  The coffered ceiling was
high and decorated with cherubs.  Rebekah tipped the driver and thanked him.

“Good luck to you,
Larissa.  I hope you like being back in Petrograd.”  As he walked back to the
taxi he thought to himself, “Something isn’t right here.  Why would a
beautiful, obviously talented woman like her leave America to come here now
with the city in an uproar?”

Rebekah nodded and
headed to the counter where there were a man and a woman working.  

“Can I help you,”
the woman asked as Rebekah approached.

“Yes. I am looking
for a room or a small apartment,” she answered.

“How long will you
be staying?” the woman asked.

“Several months if
the accommodations are good,” Rebekah replied.

“I see.  Well, I
can show you a room and our smallest apartment.  We only have the one apartment
left, but it has a small kitchen and a large room.  The room can rent by the
week or month, but the apartment must rent by the month.”

“How much for
each?”  Rebekah asked.  “And is there a deposit for the apartment?”

The woman went
over all the pricing.

“I believe the
apartment sounds best to me,” Rebekah said. “Could I see it now?”

The apartment was
small, but adequately furnished with a flowered print sofa and matching stuffed
chair, and a small dining table with four chairs.  Behind a set of long
curtains there was a double bed and a small dresser with a mirror over it.  The
bathroom was off of the bedroom area.  It was tiny but there was a tub, sink
and commode.

“I’ll take it for
two months,” Rebekah told the woman. “I’ll let you know in the middle of the
next month if I intend to stay longer.”

After taking care
of the paperwork and bringing her bags to the apartment which was on the third
floor, Rebekah stretched out on the sofa.  She couldn’t really believe she was
here.  She unpacked her suitcases and when she was done, she took her coat and
went out to explore Petrograd.

            It was cold and there
was snow on the ground from the last snowfall.  Rebekah thought fondly of
Martin as she wrapped the beaver coat around her.  Her boots were warm, and all
she really needed was a utilitarian hat.  Since it was late afternoon and shops
were still open, Rebekah walked along and found a shop that sold handbags,
stockings, hats and accessories.  She picked a warm fur hat, paid for it, and
put it on before she left the store.

            Petrograd was over two
hundred years old, and Nevsky Prospekt was its main avenue.  Located on the
shores of the River Neva, it spread both north and south.  Rebekah noticed that
there was an abundance of banks.  It seemed as if every other building had one.
 There were apartments, stately palaces such as the Winter Palace, a variety of
churches, the Duma, stores large and small, arcades, cafés, theaters, hotels,
and the railway station.  Rebekah could not get over the changes that had taken
place since she was a child.  And still buildings were being renovated
everywhere.

            She walked along for
over an hour until it began to get dark.  On the way back she stopped at a
small café for dinner and then picked up a few groceries for the next day.  When
she was back in her apartment at the hotel, she fixed herself a cup of tea and
started a letter to Rachael.  She didn’t plan to mail it until she saw what
happened over the next few days.  Exhausted from her trip, yet exhilarated over
her good fortune so far, Rebekah had a hard time falling asleep.  Thoughts of
finding Samuel, getting a job, and how she would get Samuel back raced through
her head like a raging storm.

            In the morning, she
dressed in one of her nicer dresses and headed to Gostiny Dvor, which,
according to one of the clerks behind the desk, was about a ten minute carriage
ride from the hotel.  “The carriage will be less expensive than a taxi,” she
had advised Rebekah.

            Gostiny Dvor covered
almost a city block.  Rebekah remembered it immediately when she saw it.  It
was in one of the shops there that she had seen the dress in the window that
she copied years ago.  Unlike Bloomingdales, which was one store with many
different departments, Gostiny Dvor was made up of over one hundred different little
shops and was several stories high.  Rebekah started walking by the various
stores.  It didn’t take long to find Volonsky’s.  The window had a display of
three evening gowns and two daytime dresses.   She stood there scrutinizing
them.  Her designer mind was making changes to several of them.  “I could make
those gowns really unique given the opportunity,” she thought to herself.  “But
I must remember I am looking for a job as a seamstress, not as a designer.” 
She continued walking around to see what other women’s stores there were.  After
about an hour, she walked into Volonsky’s.

            She stopped at one of
the counters.  “I’m looking for the accounting department,” she remarked to a
woman standing behind it.

            “It is upstairs,” the
well-groomed sales agent replied.  “Go to the end of that aisle and turn left
to the steps.”

            “Thank you,” Rebekah
replied and headed toward the steps.

            She found the
accounting area without any problems and stopped at the first desk she saw,
which appeared to be a receptionist’s desk.

            “I’m looking for Zoya
Anatoly,” she asked the girl sitting there.

            “I will get her for
you,” the girl replied briskly.

            When the girl came
back, a young woman was trailing behind her. “How may I help you?” she asked,
approaching Rebekah.

            “My name is Larissa Fedatov,”
she started. “I met your cousin Alexey in his taxi the other day, and he
suggested that you might be able to direct me to the right people here to find
a position as a seamstress.”

            Zoya smiled.  It was a
warm smile.  She was an attractive woman in her early thirties.  Her long black
hair hung to her shoulders and made her olive skin look almost tan.  Her large brown
eyes were the darkest shade Rebekah had ever seen.  The bright red lipstick
that she wore added to her beauty.

            “Yes,” she answered.  “Alexey
has told me about you.  I’ve already asked around, and, so far, I don’t see an
opening for a seamstress.  But you might want to make application with Mr. Volonsky.
 He still does most of the hiring and sometimes it is all about timing.  I’ll
be glad to take you to his secretary to see if you can get an appointment.”  She
smiled again, “He likes pretty girls.  Sometimes that really helps to get the
job.”

            Rebekah smiled back. “Thank
you for the compliment.  I really appreciate your doing this for me.  Your
cousin was sweet to offer to help me.  Is everyone in Petrograd as nice as you?”

“Well, Larissa, don’t
be too trusting.  There are some unsavory people lurking around this town.  Come,
I’ll take you to Mr. Volonsky’s office.”

As Rebekah followed,
she noticed as they walked along almost everybody said hello to Zoya or waved
with a smile.  It was obvious that she was well liked.  When they got to the
office, Zoya introduced Rebekah to Mr. Volonsky’s secretary, Anna.

Zoya shook Rebekah’s
hand.  “Good luck to you,” she said. “If I can help you with anything, please
let me know.”

Rebekah thanked
her and turned to the secretary.  She was an older woman in her fifties with
salt and pepper hair.  Her beady eyes had been softened by the wrinkles around
them and her manner was pleasant.  “I am trying to find a position as a
seamstress,” Rebekah started.  “I have experience with alterations as well as
designing and making dresses and gowns for women.”

The secretary
looked at her, studying her for a minute.  “Where have you worked before?” she
asked.

Rebekah told her
the same story she told Alexey about living in America and coming back to
Russia when her husband died, also telling her she had worked for herself as
well as Bloomingdales, an upscale department store in America.  

 “Do you have any
samples of your work?” She asked Rebekah.

“I made the dress
I am wearing,” Rebekah replied.

“It is very nice.  Are
you as good at alterations as you are at making a dress from start?” she asked.

“Yes,” Rebekah
answered confidently.  “I would be glad to do some of your alterations to show
you.”

“Yes,” Anna said. “That
would be good.  We have one girl who has been getting many complaints from the
customers about her work.  If you are as good as you say, perhaps we can work
something out.  Come in tomorrow morning at nine o’clock and I will have a few
dresses for you to do.”

“Thank you so
much,” Rebekah answered with a smile.  “I appreciate the opportunity to show you
what I can do.”

Rebekah walked
around and visited some of the other shops. Along the way she stopped for lunch
before heading back to her apartment.  When she got home, she continued the
letter to Rachael, telling her about her morning at Volonsky’s.