The End of Days (6 page)

Read The End of Days Online

Authors: Helen Sendyk

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Historical, #History, #Holocaust, #test

 
Page 26
"Oh, I am sorry for not joining earlier, but we had a tragedy in the family."
"You shouldn't know any more tragedy," Blimcia said. No wonder he has such sad-looking eyes, she thought. It looks like those eyes have done some crying. His look is penetrating, yet soft and caring.
"It was Srulek who brought me in. We are neighbors," offered Jacob.
"You ought to know what a job it was," Srulek interjected. "I had to drag him all the way. But I think he'll stay."
There was a smile in Srulek's eyes, as if he knew something no one else knew. But Jacob knew it too, for it was Srulek whom he had asked for an introduction to the girl he liked.
Jacob was twenty-eight years old. Several of his sisters and brothers were already married, and only he and his kid sister Mila remained at home. His father had died years ago, and his mother wanted to enjoy his company for as long as she could. Babied at home, Jacob put his energy into studying and working. His mother had been his social life. When she suddenly died, he could no longer stand being at home. Now he needed to be with other people. When Srulek suggested he come with him to the Mizrachi meeting he gladly accepted after years of declining all invitations to social events.
Upon entering the room, it hit him like a wave. He felt then and there that God had consoled him for the loss of his mother. There on the opposite side of the room she sat. Her hair was brown like his mother's, combed to the side in a gentle wave. She wore small earrings, he later noticed, shaped like little violet flowers. He could not see her eyes at first, for her head was bent in conversation. Jacob sat on a bench against the wall, so intrigued with the girl on the next bench that he was oblivious to the evening's events. He knew he would have to talk to her. The meeting was coming to a close, and Jacob had barely caught her eye. Too inhibited to approach the girl him-self, he decided he would get Srulek to introduce him.
At the next meeting, Jacob and Srulek conspired.
"So which girl is it?" Srulek asked.
"She isn't here yet," Jacob answered, trying to conceal his
 
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disappointment. He sat uneasily for ten minutes, stealing glances at the door.
"There she is!" Jacob nearly yelled, grabbing Srulek's arm as Blimcia made her entrance.
"Come on, I'll introduce you right now," Srulek said. "But remember what I'm telling you. Her name is Blimcia Stapler. She will not put up with any nonsense, and neither will her father, Reb Symche Stapler. If you are really interested you are better off working with Reb Zisha the matchmaker."
But Jacob could not hear any of Srulek's mumbling, he was too eager to follow him to Blimcia's side. He was soon standing right in front of her. Blimcia was talking to someone. All Jacob could think of was that her eyes were emeralds, and her nose small and round. He suddenly became aware of his own long, straight nose.
It must be twice the size of hers, he thought in dismay.
Suddenly someone called Blimcia, and she excused herself and walked away. Jacob returned to a bench near the wall and sulked. She did not even notice me. Why would a popular girl like her have any interest in me? he asked himself.
He spent the rest of the evening brooding about his big nose, receding hairline, and slouched posture. He decided not to waste his time at these meetings anymore. He could have been home finishing his Shalom Aleichem book.
Yet on the next Tuesday night, he was eager to attend the meeting when Srulek came calling for him. Even observing her from a distance would be better than staying home thinking about Blimcia. Whenever he had tried to read, all he saw were her emerald eyes.
He gingerly strolled beside Srulek, hoping that he wouldn't bring up the subject of his interest in the girl. But Srulek was absorbed in the Zionist program discussed at the meetings.
"You heard the speaker from last week? We have to learn to work the soil. Without agriculture we will never be a true people. Farming our homeland is as essential to our physical survival as learning Torah is to our spiritual well-being. And do you think there is a future for young Jews here in Poland? You heard what happened to Herschel Sunday night, how they
 
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attacked him. It was three against one. He was lucky to have come away with his life.
When they reached the meetinghouse on Aleia Henryka, commonly called the Planty, Jacob felt a thud in his heart. Blimcia wasn't there. The Mizrachi members were seated in a circle with someone leading a discussion about Shalom Aleichem. Jacob immediately felt at home and exuberantly offered comments on his favorite author.
When Blimcia came in she scanned the room and noticed an animated Jacob sitting in the circle with his back to her. There was an empty seat next to Jacob, but she thought it would be too obvious if she took it. Perhaps she should take a seat closer to her friend Srulek. She was curious about the new fellow. She had already missed one chance to meet him; she had been about to be introduced to him last Friday night when that meddlesome Rachel called her away. Blimcia finished deliberating and boldly tiptoed over to the empty seat near Jacob.
The discussion was lively. Jacob was talking about the author's characteristic style. Blimcia was sure that this new fellow was well read. For his part, Jacob was determined not to let her get away this time, not when she was so close.
When the discussion finally ended, Jacob turned to Blimcia and asked, "Have you read Shalom Aleichem's works?"
"Of course," she answered defensively, afraid that he might consider her an ignoramus.
"Oh, that's great," he said. "We must talk books some time, since he's my favorite author."
"So I can see," she said with admiration in her voice.
"I'm Jacob, and I know you're Blimcia; we were briefly introduced. So how come you are always late to meetings?" he inquired, desperate to continue the conversation.
"I help in my father's store, and there is always a late customer. It is impossible to get away on time."
"Isn't there anyone else in the store with you?"
Blimcia couldn't explain about the important customers preferring her service and how Mama was busy feeding Goldzia at closing time.
 
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"Well, I'm always the one to get stock with the last chores," she simply said.
The two of them talked a long time before leaving with the crowd. Jacob made sure to walk behind Blimcia and her girlfriends to get in a final good-night and to see where she lived.
When Blimcia turned in at the Municipal Building Jacob was surprised. Srulek explained to him that the Staplers were the only residential tenants in the building.
"You mean to say that you have never shopped in their store?" Srulek asked, immediately regretting the question. It was not a store for struggling families. Who else could afford those ripe yellow bananas and exotic grapefruits and oranges but northerners from the Planty and the Polish nobility? "It's worth the trip to the Staplers' line fruit and delicatessen store, just to see all those goodies that they import," Srulek added, making it sound exciting.
Once again Jacob was struck with self-doubt. Blimcia's family was surely looking for a better match than he would make. He was an orphan who could barely make ends meet. He'd like to join his sister and brother in far off Palestine, but he'd surely have to see his sister Mila married here in Chrzanow first. Even if he could get out, why would a girl like Blimcia ever leave Chrzanow with a man like him?
Lying in bed that night, sleep eluded Jacob. His thoughts were still with Blimcia. He remembered her straight posture, and her waltzlike swaying from side to side as she walked. He must ask her if she knew how to dance, and even more important, if she would go dancing with him.
Jacob attended every subsequent meeting of the Mizrachi. He could feel that Blimcia was interested in him, yet she never allowed him an opportunity to be alone with her. He knew what he had to do. Even though he resented matchmaking and considered it an antiquated institution, he knew he would have to work with Reb Zisha the
shadchen
, the matchmaker. How else could he formally "meet" and date a girl from an old-fashioned family like the Staplers?
As for the professional Cupid, Reb Zisha was overjoyed with the easy assignment. The client was already sold on his bill of
 
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goods; he would only have to serve as broker. He immediately went to Reb Symche Stapler to fatten up the turkey.
"Reb Symche, do I have a
shiddach
for your daughter! Ai, ai, ai, a real match from heaven."
Reb Symche was nodding with interest, and so it was time to inquire about the dowryand thus his commission.
"The most important question, Reb Symche," the matchmaker said with a lilting melody in his voice, "is how much
nadan
[dowry] your daughter is going to come wrapped in?"
"A
nadan?"
Reb Symche inhaled with pride. "Why a most generous one indeed for my Blimcia. And a wedding I'll make that Chrzanow won't soon forget. The couple will have two years of
kest
[the gift of free board and lodging from the bride's parents] for full financial support, and we'll fix up an apartment as befits a Stapler girl. Now, Reb Zisha, tell me more about this fellow. Who is he? What does he do? How much learning has he got in his head?"
Confident that the big fish was on the line, Reb Zisha began enumerating Jacob's good qualities and assets. "This Jacob is from a fine family, and he's kind, sweet, tall, and healthy. And he can learn. Why, his room is a mountain of books. Yet his feet are on the ground; he's a good businessman."
"And what line of business is he in?" interrupted the prospective father-in-law.
"Oh, woven goods," Reb Zisha responded with satisfaction.
"It is his parents' store that he's in?" Reb Symche asked with keen interest.
"Unfortunately," Reb Zisha said with sorrow, "both his parents are now in the
olom ha'emes
[the World of Truth]."
"What a pity," Reb Symche said, pronouncing the benediction
baruch dayan emes
, blessed be the Judge of Truth. "Well, this is not the boy's fault and it is not to be held against him. God has blessed me with four sons; maybe it was meant for me to have five. So,
nu
, let me ask my daughter if she's interested in a meeting, and maybe we'll be lucky."
That evening, Papa went into the store at closing time and was soon alone with Blimcia. The gates were pulled over the front door, and no one could interrupt them.
 
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"My Blimcia, I want you to know that Reb Zisha the
shadchen
was here today," Papa declared.
"Who is the fellow he's come for?" Blimcia asked with calm curiosity.
"You know, my child," Papa began, smiling and gazing at his grown child with adoration, "that I would not pick just anybody for you. I have turned away many suitors that I didn't even tell you about. But this fellow seems to be very special; you ought to give him a try."
"If you say so, Papa, I will."
She is so smart and good, Papa thought. "So I will set up a meeting in the house soon," Papa said with finality.
Papa came home from synagogue Saturday night long after the stars came out. He made
Havdalah
, the benediction at the end of the Sabbath, for us, ritually bidding farewell to the Sabbath Queen and blessing the coming week. Everyone was assembled in front of Goldzia's bed, listening to Papa chant the Hebrew, waiting in turn to smell the exotic aroma of spices from the land of Israel. Mama held the beautiful silver spice box close to Goldzia's nose, then turned up her fingernails to reflect the light of the
Havdalah
candle in Blimcia's hand.
"Raise it high," prodded her sister Nachcia. "You want a tall groom, don't you?"
Now that
Havdalah
and the accompanying song were over, each of us was getting ready to start the work week. The older kids, Nachcia, Heshek, and Vrumek were going out with their friends, while Sholek and I were getting ready for bed.
Only Blimcia did not leave. She wore her pretty green dress; her hair was neatly combed. She took out her mandolin and started playing a tune for Goldzia, trying to dissipate her nervousness while waiting.
She could not say no to Papa when he suggested this meeting. After all, what argument could she have not to want it? She was twenty-six years old already; it was high time she found someone to marry. She wished she could have gotten the message through to Jacob to
shadchen
himself to her, to have the matchmaker introduce him. But he was too modern to go through a matchmaker, as her father would want. She

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