The Dressmaker's Son (2 page)

“I’m going down to
get my bible,” she told Rebekah as she started down the steps. “God forbid one
of those animals should find it.”

“It’s too
dangerous, Rachael,” Rebekah objected.

“I’ll be careful,”
Rachael said as she continued down the steps.

Quickly she opened
the drawer of the dresser whose top was laden with a new batch of fabrics
waiting to be displayed.  As she pulled out the Bible, she felt a hand clutch
her shoulder.  She turned, momentarily twisting out of this grip to face a
Cossack twice her size.  He stared at her for a moment, smiled and grabbed the
Bible out of her hand. “What have we here?” he demanded with a smirk.

“No,” she gasped
in a voice she barely recognized as her own. “It’s mine.  You have no use for
it. Please, it was my mother’s.  Give it back!”

He looked at it
for just a minute. “A Bible,” he laughed. “Do you think a Bible will help the
likes of you and your kind?”

She stared into
his sunken, empty, almost black eyes surrounded by pock-marked skin which
disappeared into a scraggly black beard.  An anger rose up in Rachael that she
never knew she could possess.  She lunged at the Cossack attempting again to
grab the Bible.  Of course she was no match for his strength, and he quickly
pinned her to the wall, pressing all his weight against her and holding the
Bible tauntingly in the air.

She could feel the
coarse fabric of his uniform and the buttons of his jacket pushing into her
chest.  His breath reeked of liquor, but it didn’t drown out the rancid stench
of his body.

He grabbed her
left hand and noticed the wedding ring.  “Does your husband know you are out
searching for Bibles?” he mocked as he roughly lifted her skirt while still
pinning her against the wall.   

Suddenly the
Cossack let out a scream as Rebekah plunged scissors into his shoulder and
shouted, “Let go of her, you animal!”

The Cossack
bellowed and grabbed his shoulder as he let go of Rachael. At that moment, two
Cossacks ran in yelling to him, each with a torch in his hand.

“Find anything
worth taking?” one asked.

“Just these two pretty
Jew bitches,” he answered with slurred words, still holding his shoulder.

“Hurry,” the other
yelled throwing him a lit torch.  “Take this and torch this pigsty on your way
out.  We’re leaving.  We’ve finished here.”

He caught it,
releasing his grip on Rachael.  She peered around him, shocked to see flames
shooting out of the buildings across the street and watched the two Cossacks
turn and leave.  She turned back looking into the eyes of her captor. “Please,”
she barely whispered. “My Bible.”

Silently he stared
at her for what seemed like forever as though searching for some hidden secret
in her eyes.

            “Poor, pitiful people,”
he muttered as he dropped the Bible on the floor and walked out of the store
with the lit torch still in his hand.

            For a moment Rachael
stood frozen.  Rebekah hugged her. “It’s okay, Rachael. They’re gone. You know
I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. I love you too much. We need to go upstairs. I
left Levi in his crib.”

            “I love you, too,
Rebekah,” she said, trying not to cry.  Rebekah guided her to the steps. She
still had the scissors with the Cossack’s blood on it in her hand.

            No sooner had they removed
Levi from the crib that Rachael kept there for him, than Jacob came bounding up
the stairs.  Rebekah saw him first and lunged at him with the scissors shouting,
“Don’t come near me. You’re dead!”

            “Rebekah—it’s
me!” he yelled, but she was too hysterical to hear.  He ran to her, taking her
by the shoulders. “Rebekah, it’s me, Jacob. Be quiet,” he said trying to force
the scissors from her hand.

She looked up into
his eyes, and finally her grip relaxed.  “Why are you wearing that stupid
uniform, Jacob?” she yelled.

Rachael, who had
momentarily frozen at the sight of the soldier and then quickly picked up Levi
and almost thrown him back in the crib so as to help Rebekah, echoed her
sister’s words, “Yes, Jacob, what are you doing in that stupid uniform?”

CHAPTER 3

As dawn
approached, Jacob leaned against the rail of the main deck and looked pensively
at the horizon.  There was really nothing to see.  They had been at sea ten
days and, according to the information posted and his calculations, they were
less than two days from America.  It had been a hideous trip, but his spirits
remained undaunted.

The decision to
leave Russia had not been difficult.  He knew he had to find a safer life for
his family.  The pogroms had grown more frequent and violent all around them. 
In a letter to his brother David in America describing the events that were
taking place Jacob had written, “It is only a matter of time before our city
will fall victim again to these barbarians.  I must protect Rachael and the
children.  It is time for me to make plans to come to America.  I will need
your help, David.”

He didn’t know how
prophetic his words would be.  Less than a month after he wrote them,
Yelizavetgrad and other cities were besieged by a series of pogroms that
devastated their Jewish population.  While his store and home had somehow been
spared, when Jacob received the tickets from his brother David, he knew it was
time to leave.

Jacob moved over
to the machinery where he could find a place to sit.  Although cold, it was a
clear night, and the cold was better than the putrid smells and oppressive mass
of humanity in the close quarters below.  Brushing away some cinders and ashes
which fell from the smoke stacks, he leaned back thinking about Rachael.  No
amount of horror stories could have prepared her for how difficult this voyage
would be.  But Rachael had risen to the occasion, never complaining, and
setting an example for the children.  It didn’t surprise him.  From their first
meeting, Jacob had been impressed with what he called her “strong character.” 

“Wait till you see
her, Papa,” he had told his father. “She is not like other girls. Yes, she is
beautiful, but she is smart and funny.  I could talk to her for hours.”

Jacob’s father had
beamed watching the love and passion in his son’s eyes.  He’d always marveled
at his love of life and his ambition, which nothing seemed to squelch.  He knew
he had gotten it from his mother who had died while giving birth to him. “And
what makes you think she’ll have you, Jacob?” he asked. “And what about her
parents?  Will they accept a peddler for their Rachael?”

“She’ll have me,
Papa, and so will her parents.  You’ll see.”

“Your mother would
have been so proud of you, Jacob.  You have her love of life.”

Jacob was quiet
for a few seconds. “Were you mad at God when Mama died, Papa?” he asked.

His father thought
a minute. “Yes, Jacob, I was. But soon I realized that although God takes from
us, He also gives back.  I had your brother, David, and now He had given me
you.  I still miss her, but she would not have wanted me to stay mad at God.”

Within a year,
Jacob made two more trips to Yelizavetgrad.  He and Rachael became engaged, and
while Rachael’s family planned the wedding, Jacob and his father prepared to
make the trip to Yelizavetgrad for the marriage which Jacob’s father insisted
would bring him the daughter he never had.

There was great
excitement about the wedding.  Both families were pleased with the match, and
Rachael’s family was particularly pleased that Jacob had decided to reside in
Yelizavetgrad with their daughter.  On the day of the wedding, Rachael and
Jacob were taken to separate rooms.  Jacob then came to Rachael with the
ketubah
,
a document specifying the obligations of the husband to the wife and
contingencies in case of divorce.  After it was read and signed by two
witnesses, the bride and groom entered the hall where they were escorted by
their parents to the
chuppah
, a canopy of cloth over four poles usually
held by groomsmen, which symbolizes the transfer of the bride from the father’s
house to that of the groom.  Several blessings were said and Jacob placed a
ring on Rachael’s right index finger.  The ceremony culminated with Jacob
smashing a glass underfoot, and everyone shouting, “Mazel Tov!”

It seemed that
Rachael’s family was beloved by everyone in the village, and the dancing and
celebrating went on for hours. Tables were filled with delicacies of every kind
brought by friends and neighbors.  Wine flowed liberally and the music went on
and on. While women danced with women and men with men, one could see that from
time to time a man would dance with his wife.  Jacob felt guilty that all he
wanted was for the evening to end and to be alone with Rachael. 

When he was
finally alone with her and they had made love, he was overwhelmed by the
sensuality and passion that Rachael possessed.  Laughingly he told her, “You
are like Sampson.  We must never cut your hair; for when you let it loose, it
unleashes a world of passion which I am sure is known to few.”

Rachael blushed.
“It is you who creates this passion,” she said smiling. “I wanted this from the
first blintz I served you.”

Blushing again,
Rachael said, “The sheets, Jacob.”

"Oh, I almost
forgot.” He gathered them up, opened the door a few inches and handed them to
someone on the other side.  He could hear everyone cheer approvingly the fact
that there was blood on the sheets, proving to everyone Rachael had been a
virgin.

Jacob and Rachael
moved in with her parents, which enabled them to gather enough of a nest egg to
buy their first home when Rachael became pregnant with Solomon.  When their
second child, Miriam, was born, Jacob knew that he could not continue to
travel.  It was then that he grew from peddler to proprietor, opening a small
store that sold sewing notions and fabrics.  Although the Pale was crowded with
too many merchants trying to eke out a living, there was not another store like
Jacob’s.  People were delighted to be able to purchase their wares when they
wanted instead of having to wait for a peddler to come through town.  In fact,
people came from neighboring towns to shop there.  Jacob made trips to Kiev to
get merchandise and found manufacturers in other countries to send him what he
needed.  Before long, he had enlarged the store.  As his business grew, so did
his family.  They moved to a larger home with a greenhouse on the roof, and
Rachael proved to be all that Jacob wanted in a wife and mother.

In October,
Yelizavetgrad was once again the victim of a pogrom.  Jacob shuddered as he
remembered the events of that day.  Thankfully, there had been some advance
warning.  The police chief, Vladimir, had come running breathlessly into
Jacob’s store.

“Make provisions
for Rachael and the girls, Jacob,” he said quietly, looking around to be sure
no one else was in the store.

 “What are you
talking about Vladimir?”

Jacob had known
Vladimir for many years.  He was the antithesis of what a police chief would be
expected to look like.  Although he was tall with a big belly which strained
the buttons of the uniform he wore, his round face was soft with big brown eyes
and a very contagious smile.   He was a decent sort of fellow who, for whatever
reason, had confided his extramarital affair to Jacob.  At first he pretended
he was buying silk and lace fabrics for his wife, but ultimately he confessed
that it was his mistress, Alexandra, who had a passion for these fabrics. 
Jacob managed to supply the finest specimens on a fairly regular basis, and
soon, Vladimir had become quite fond of him despite the fact that Jacob was a
Jew.

“A band of
Cossacks and God only knows what else.  They’re on their way, Jacob.  Send
Rachael and the children to Alexandra’s.  I’ve already told her they’ll be
coming.  You have her address.  No Jews will be safe, Jacob, especially the
women.  These men are ruthless, drunken animals! Go, quickly.  There isn’t much
time!”

Jacob grabbed his
keys out of the drawer and followed Vladimir to the door.  As they headed in
different directions, Vladimir turned back and took Jacob’s arm. “Be careful,
Jacob. I’ve been through one of these before.” 

“I have, too,
Vladimir,” Jacob replied. “I pray this won’t be as bad as what I have seen.”

Vladimir paused a
minute. “Jacob, do you have a gun?”

Jacob laughed, “A
gun? Me? Don’t be silly.  I wouldn’t know how to use it.  I could never kill
anyone.”

Vladimir reached
under his jacket. “Take this,” he ordered. “They are like a pack of wild
animals.  Nothing is sacred to them.”

Jacob took the gun
and slid it in his pocket. “Vladimir, you’ve taken a great risk for me. Thank
you.”

Vladimir grabbed
Jacob’s shoulder. “Just hurry, Jacob.  And be careful.  I don’t want to lose my
best source of silks,” he said smiling.

When Jacob got to
Rachael, she would not hear of separating from him. “The girls will go to
Alexandra’s,” she insisted. “I’ll get Rebekah and go to the store with the
baby.  We’ll hide upstairs in the loft.  Meet us there when you find Solomon
and Joshua.”

“But they can
attack the store, Rachael. Please!” he pleaded.

“I’m not leaving
you, Jacob.  Go. Find the boys. I’ll take the girls to Alexandra’s and meet you
at the store.”

The boys were
nowhere to be found.  He checked the school which had already emptied out as the
word spread.  He even checked the synagogue thinking perhaps they had stopped
there.  As he was leaving the synagogue Jacob saw the band of men approaching. 
There must have been fifty of them shouting and screaming as they drove their
sweaty horses down the center of the town.  It was almost dusk and some carried
torches which they waived threateningly in the air.  Jacob stood watching them
dismount and head in different directions, grabbing the few unfortunates who
were still on the street and either throwing them to the ground or pushing them
toward the stores that lined the road.  Jacob hid in the synagogue until they
moved on down the street.  Fear for his family had his heart racing.

Stores were
already burning as Jacob made his way down the street.  As he passed the
Ratner’s apothecary he could see the pharmacist’s daughter, Sarah, struggling
with what looked like a Russian soldier.  He knew there was another entrance on
the side, and he made his way to it not really knowing what he would do when he
got there.  Suddenly he could hear Sarah screaming and pleading with the
soldier.  Jacob crept along the hallway and into the main part of the store. 
Sarah was on her knees with the soldier towering above her, his back to the
door. “I said down on the floor, Jew bitch,” he shouted at her.  Jacob stood at
the door for an instant.  Then he reached in his pants pocket and took out
Vladimir’s gun.

“Get up, Sarah,”
he said with a firm voice as he walked into the room.

Sarah rose and the
nameless soldier bent and picked up his rifle on the floor.  Jacob shot him
through the head. He couldn’t help but notice that the soldier had already unbuttoned
his fly.

Sarah ran sobbing
to Jacob. “It’s all right, Sarah,” he said softly as he held her.  Peering down
at the body lying face up on the floor, he had to fight down the feeling to be
sick.  Gently he pushed Sarah away.

“Sit down,” he
told her, guiding her to a chair by the counter.  “Where are your parents?”

“They went to get
my brother at the synagogue.”

“So they will be
back soon.  Just sit here for now.”

Then he went over
to the body.  The soldier was lying on his back, his grey-blue eyes wide open,
his dirty blond hair falling to one side, a hole in the middle of his
forehead.  Jacob studied his face as he bent down and shut his eyes. “This man
is a Russian soldier,” he said softly to himself. “What was he doing riding
with this riff-raff?” A pool of blood had formed next to the head and was
beginning to flow toward his shoulder.  Jacob removed the jacket from the lifeless
body before the blood reached it and picked up the hat which must have fallen
in the initial struggle with Sarah.  He put the hat and jacket on and turned to
Sarah.

“How do I look as
a soldier?” he asked trying to smile.

“What are you
doing, Mr. Lachavetsky?” she asked, her face void of expression.

“I’m going to make
my way back to my store, Sarah. Rachael is there with Levi.  The band was
headed toward that end of town.  I think it will be safe for you to stay here
for now.  This shouldn’t last much longer.” He handed her the gun. “Take this
and go into the back room.  Face the door and if another one of these monsters
does show up, shoot him.”

“But I don’t know
how to shoot,” Sarah protested.

“Neither did I,
Sarah. It will be okay. I’ll keep an eye out for your family.”

Making his way
down the street Jacob couldn’t believe the destruction that had taken place. 
Stores were burning.  Those that weren’t burning had had windows smashed.  Dead
bodies lay in the street and in front of the stores.  Jacob was terrified for
Rachael and Levi.  Up ahead he could see the band gathering as though preparing
to leave.  Suddenly he heard screams coming from one of the stores.  A young
girl was being pinned to the wall just inside the doorway by a Cossack who made
the soldier Sarah faced look like a midget.  Jacob ran toward him shouting.
“Leave the bitch, friend.  It looks like the rest are getting ready to go. 
We’ll be left behind.”

The man appeared
to be in a drunken stupor. “Leaving?” he slurred.

“Yes, hurry,” Jacob
yelled pulling him toward the street.  Letting go of the girl, the Cossack
headed in the direction Jacob pointed him.

”Go back inside,
Esther. They’ll be gone soon.”

Esther just stood
there petrified that this soldier knew who she was.

            Jacob remembered his
attire and pulled off his hat. “It’s me, Esther, Mr. Lachavetsky,” he said
turning to head out of the store. “Please go inside now.”