to his mother that one of his schoolmates at the university had fallen in love with an Oriental girl, and his mother’s reaction was immediate and biting, that he was an absolute idiot who would get exactly what he deserved. Furthermore, she went on, he should avoid that fool like the plague.
There were still six more weeks remaining before returning to the university, and he decided that if Hanna was still pregnant, he would begin seeking a job. In Kiev, or perhaps even in St. Petersburg. Obtaining a position as an engineer was out of the question, since he did not have a degree, but he was qualified to be an assistant to one, and there were jobs as foreman of building projects. Once he had an offer of work, he would have her join him and they would be married. If they lived frugally, they would be able to send money to her family. It would not be an easy life, but having Hanna would be worth any hardship. It was just impossible to consider living without her.
On the third day after Motlie’s funeral, Jakob and Hershel took a walk to discuss the situation in the house. Jakob was a continuing curiosity to the village folk, especially to the Jews, who had been raised to believe that Hasidim were a “bisel meshugge”, a little crazy, and so rabid that merely being in their presence would be tantamount to walking through an infectious ward of a hospital. Rabbi Warnitski, though, had kept his promise to his cousin by passing the word that Jakob must be protected from any snide remarks, and he had also informed all of them that Jakob was learned in Talmud far beyond his years. So it was with a mixture of novelty, bias, and respect that the village Jews treated him. The gentiles, however, were less generous. They stopped in their tracks to stare rudely at him or to begin laughing. It was his peiyes, of course, his long cheek curls that tickled them. Brushed behind his ears, he would be little different than many of the older Jews, who wore essentially the same attire.
“What do you plan to do now?” asked Hershel, lighting up a cigarette without missing a step.
“Do you mean whether I will stay in the house?”
“Yes.”
Jakob walked on a few more paces before replying. He had considered the ramifications of Motlie’s death from the moment he knew that her ailment was terminal. Under normal circumstances, he would have left the moment Motlie died. Residing in a house with a marriageable woman, watched over by a disabled parent, could create a dangerous moral predicament. It was only because Hanna was Hanna that he had made his decision.
“I plan to stay, if Mr. Barlak has no objection.”
“I feel the same way. But it will place a heavier work load on Hanna.”
“They will need the money as much as before.”
“I’m sure of that. He drew in a lung full of smoke and let it curl out of his nose. “She is an unusual girl, that Hanna. Look at the way she is holding that family together.” Jakob said nothing, and after a few more steps, Hershel continued, “I am glad you decided to stay.” He broke into a crooked grin as he glanced at his companion. “We have all become fond of you.” When Jakob looked at him in surprise, Hershel laughed. “Even when you recite the treatise, page, verse, line, and word of the Talmud.”
Jakob chuckled. He was not at all embarrassed by Hershel’s comment, for as the Crown Prince of his father’s congregation, he had been complimented as far back as he could remember. “I am also glad that you are staying.”
They had reached the edge of the village, and Hershel stopped. “Let’s go back. It’s almost time for lunch.” After a moment or two of silence, he said, “Can you think of any way we can make her job easier?”
Jakob’s brow furrowed. It had never occurred to him to consider such an action. Each one in life is destined to bear whatever confronts him. Motlie had died. Due to circumstances, all quite normal in the scheme of things, Hanna had been called upon to shoulder an additional burden. It is the Lord’s work, and Israel’s accident, Motlie’s demise, and Hanna’s burden are as much a part of His work as the sun shining or the stars sparkling or the crops of grain growing alongside the road.
“I don’t quite know how I can help.”
“I’ve thought of paying her a little more each week.”
“She won’t take it,” said Jakob at once.
Hershel nodded his head in agreement. “I guess you are right. But I could pay Gitel and Reba to take care of my room, and Zelek to watch over my horse.”
Jakob grinned with pleasure. “That Zelek. He is a wonderful boy.”
Hershel smiled with him. “He certainly has his fixations about the Cossacks.” He looked over at the Hasid, almost ten centimeters taller and twenty kilos lighter than himself. “Do you really think he will kill his Cossack?”
“He will,” said Jakob simply.
Hershel placed a restraining hand on Jakob’s arm and drew him to a halt. “Tell me, Jakob, why are you always so sure of things?”
Jakob stared steadily into the eyes of his companion, seeing deep inside an intelligence that belied Hershel’s casualness. Had he an older brother, he would have prayed for him to be Hershel. “I don’t know. Words come to my lips, often without me first weighing the content. It has been like that since I was a boy–of Zelek’s age. Frequently what I say comes about.”
“Doesn’t it awe you to have that strange ability?”
Jakob turned and started walking again, Hershel keeping in step with extra long strides. “No. Actually, I don’t think about it. It is only when someone mentions that what I’ve told him in the past has happened that I take notice.”
“What do you see for Hanna?”
Jakob walked on in silence for a number of steps. “Sorrow,” he finally said.
And there was sadness in his own face at the comment.
CHAPTER 11
Hershel hitched his horse to the post in front of the library in Kaunas a week later. It was time again for their meeting, and he spied Katrine at once seated at a reading table. She got up quickly and met him at the door.
“You are on time for a change,” she commented with a grin.
“I have such a ferocious hard-on that I almost came here last night.”
“But I wasn’t here last night,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
“That would have made no difference. Just knowing you were coming would have done the trick.”
“Want to go to the flat to try out the various ways of satisfying hard-ons?”
“Does a fish need water?”
Her eyes were still twinkling. “That’s one of your Jewish traits, I believe. Responding to a question with a question.”
“What else?” he quipped. He took her by the arm and started leading her out to the street. “I love you desperately,” he murmured out of the side of his mouth.
She drew his arm against her breast. “I’ve missed you terribly.”
“Where
