Two Tales: Betrothed & Edo and Enam Read online

  In the great Uganda schism, Heilperin suddenly resigned from his post in the brick works and left behind him both groups, the “Zionists” and the “Zionists of Zion.” With his family he emigrated to the Land of Israel and joined a pioneer settlement that had a number of members of the Bilu group, with whom he had exchanged cordial letters. But not long passed before a dispute flared up among them. Heilperin said to himself, If I cannot live in harmony among these comrades, to whom I am bound in heart and soul, how much less so will I be able to live with the rest of my countrymen? So he went and rented fields from an Arab, and he and his household worked the land as ordinary farmers, until his children were grown to school age. Now there was no school within the village or anywhere near it; so he left his farm land and came to Jaffa, and opened a shop there for lime, cement and construction materials. There was no blessing on his business for the same reason that Luria had none: neither was accustomed to commerce, and it was a time of recession. Also, they gave their attention to the affairs of the Jewish Settlement rather than to their own. All the same they were content with their lot, and offered thanks, one to God, the other to Fate, that they were privileged to live in the Land of Israel. Though their views differed, they respected one another. Luria held Heilperin in esteem for his determination, and Heilperin esteemed Luria for his integrity, while the newer generation respected them both, not only for these virtues but just because they were “respected.” Their homes were open to all, teachers and writers were warmly welcomed. From four o’clock until ten at night the samovar was lit and tea awaited you. Both men had a liking for Dr. Rechnitz. Rachel’s father forgave him for coming from the Austro-Hungarian Empire and for not speaking Russian. Leah’s father was even glad of this; he would not have minded, in fact, had Rechnitz come from Galicia, since he had married a Galician woman himself. Like the enlightened people they were, they did not try to rush Rechnitz into declaring his intentions, but waited patiently for that moment on which the fathers of daughters set all their hopes.

  X

  Rachel had already heard from her brother, who was a pupil at the school where Rechnitz taught, that important visitors had called on his teacher. An old gentleman and a grown girl. The old gentleman stooped, like all men of his age from abroad. But the girl was tall and lovely. The clothes she wore were not to be seen anywhere in the Land of Israel.

  Rachel said to Rechnitz, “I hear you have guests.” He nodded.

  “Who are they?” she asked.

  “People from my city.”

  “And who is the girl?”

  “She’s the daughter of the old gentleman.”

  “Is she beautiful?”

  “That depends on one’s taste.”

  “My brother has told me about her.”

  Rechnitz looked up. “What did he say?”

  “Why don’t you tell us a little yourself? You’re very silent.”

  “There’s not much to tell. When I was a boy, our house was next to that of Herr Ehrlich, and I used to be in and out of his home, as happens with neighbors. When Frau Ehrlich died, and even before then, when my parents moved elsewhere, I gave up visiting, because of the distance and because we weren’t on the same neighborly terms. Now it happens that the Consul and his daughter are traveling around the world, and on their way back from Africa they are spending four or five days in the Land of Israel.”

  “And what about her?” asked Rachel. “I mean, the Consul’s daughter?”

  “She’s with her father; and on their way home they have come to see the Holy Land.”

  Rachel smiled rather mysteriously; her eyes resumed their usual look of indifference. Rechnitz blushed. He thought of the many favors the Consul had done him; yet he had shown little gratitude by this offhand way of referring to him. He looked across at Leah.

  “Leave him alone, Rachel,” said Leah. “Can’t you see that Dr. Rechnitz has nothing to say?”

  “He may have nothing on his tongue,” said Rachel, “but I think he has something on his mind. Tell us about it, Doctor.”

  “She is the daughter of my benefactor.”

  His tone of voice startled Rachel. She began to make some remark, reconsidered, and said instead, “If I may ask, how long have you been acquainted with her? You were neighbors, weren’t you?”

  Rechnitz answered, “We were neighbors when we were children, but I haven’t seen her since I started high school.”

  “Interesting, most interesting,” said Rachel.

  “What’s so interesting?” asked Leah.

  “It is, don’t you agree, Doctor?”

  Leah said, “We’d do better to go for our walk. It’s a shame to waste time indoors. Are you ready, Rachel?”

  “Yes, ready.”—”And so?”—”So, let’s go.”— “Where to?”—”Oh, wherever our feet take us. Doctor, what do you say? Shall we go to Mikveh? Or to Sarona?”

  Rechnitz said, “I’m invited to dinner, so I can’t go very far.”

  Rachel laughed. “It’s not an hour since he left her, and he already wants to be back.”

  Rechnitz looked at the clock. “Anyway,” he said, “I have time for a short walk.”

  “I’ll take it upon myself,” said Leah, “to bring you back to the place you have to be at the time you have to be there.”

  They turned and took their way along the sea, as people in Jaffa do when they have no special destination.

  XI

  The sand, neither too loose nor too hard-packed, gave off a good smell. And above the sand, though not too far from earth, the sky was full of fresh clouds, half of them lead tinged with silver, and half, red gold. Over these were smaller clouds; some the shape of beasts or birds, and some rising like the rays of sunrise. Mists of sulphur veiled them, mists that were torn, then opened, that wheeled and then moved on. The noise of the waves mounted, the sea was full, casting up numberless new conches and shells on the margin of the beach, like some being that lacked peace in its depths.

  Rachel picked up a hollow shell and held it to her ear. Leah was about to make some remark but thought better of it and said nothing. She stooped to lift up a shell, whispered into it and threw it into the sea. Rechnitz picked up a plant that the waves had left, inspected it, and remarked, “I forgot to ask what time dinner is served.”

  Rachel looked at him as if she didn’t know where things were heading. “Are you so hungry?”

  “No, but…”

  She laughed. “Well, let’s ask.”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course; we had better go.”

  Leah gazed at the sea. “How lovely it is. It’s a pity we have to leave.”

  “I can promise you,” smiled Rachel, “that the sea won’t run away between now and tomorrow.”

  “I suppose so,” Leah answered, still looking out to sea.

  “Don’t you believe me?”

  Leah laughed. “All right, let’s go.”

  They walked back and reached the hotel. Shoshanah was taking a walk on the grounds. Rachel halted suddenly and stared straight in front of her. Finally she pressed a hand to her brow and exclaimed, “How lovely that girl is! Who is she?”

  Rechnitz silenced her and whispered, “That’s she; that’s the Consul’s daughter.”

  “Oh indeed,” answered Rachel in a different tone. “It’s clear that she’s haughty!”

  “How do you know that?” said Leah.

  “How do I know that she’s haughty? Didn’t you see that motion of her head when she returned Dr. Rechnitz’s greeting?”

  Jacob, however, recognized the gesture; she had inclined her head similarly when the Consul invited him to dinner. Such movements are unwilled: they do not come from our awareness, nor from the soul, which normally govern our gestures.

  Leah glanced down at Jacob’s hands. “You are going to your meeting empty-handed. Where can we get you some flowers to bring to your guests?”

  Jacob was dismayed. He should indeed have thought of this, but he had made no preparations for his visitors. He
looked hopefully at Leah, who gazed at the flower beds in front of the hotel entrance and commiserated with him.

  Rachel suggested, “Mira lives only a few steps away; and if she’s not at home, we can try Raya. Her Petersburg cousin just smothers her in flowers. Don’t worry, Dr. Rechnitz; we shan’t send you along empty-handed.”

  Rechnitz glanced at her imploringly, took off his hat in gratitude, and cried, “Thank you!”

  Rachel continued, “If it weren’t for that fine lady in the garden, I might have fetched some flowers from the porter. There’s nothing lovelier than white narcissus in the hands of a black African. Why are you silent, Dr. Rechnitz? Tell us a story, like that one about the African queen who used to come to her council of state riding on the back of one of her ministers.”

  Leah hugged her, exclaiming, “You are a good little girl, Rachel!”

  “Aren’t I? Taking the flowers that Raya’s cousin brings her and sending them to that fine lady by means of Dr. Rechnitz! It would be still better if they were Mira’s flowers originally, which she had given first to the cousin! Forgive me, Dr. Rechnitz, I really don’t mean any harm. Shake hands and let’s make up. Aren’t you feeling cold, Leah?” Rachel slipped an arm around her friend’s shoulder and kissed her on the neck. “Your neck tastes salty, Leah.”

  In return Leah embraced Rachel, kissed her warmly and said, “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I can’t say that I am happy, but I can say that things seem good.”

  “If they seem good they are good,” said Rachel. “For my part, I really don’t know what’s good and what isn’t.”

  With her eyes on the ground, Leah pondered what her friend had said.

  XII

  Rechnitz arrived about half an hour before the meal. Shoshanah was standing near the entrance, examining the picture postcards which the hotel clerk had set out before her. Seeing Jacob, she greeted him with a nod and returned to her postcards, laying some down for a second inspection. The Consul was below in the reading room, looking over a newspaper. He caught sight of Rechnitz, removed the cigar from his lips, put his paper down on the table, and extended his hand.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your reading,” Rechnitz remarked.

  The Consul took off his spectacles. “There’s no news. The world carries on as usual, the newspapers likewise. They make us participate in the world’s affairs according to their own notions. These newspapers unite mankind; they make opinions uniform. True, they may disagree among themselves, but their very disagreements prove that their outlook is basically the same and that they only differ on details. In the future, all human beings will be alike, except perhaps the savages in Africa – they may keep some of the individuality that God planted in the hearts of His creatures. Well, well! I’m philosophizing. All the same, there’s a grain of truth in what I say, even if it sounds like armchair philosophy. But you, I am sure, have found interesting people here!”

  At this point the Consul called over a waiter and told him to reserve a special table for them at dinner, adding that if this were not feasible, they would wait until all the guests had finished their meal. Turning back to Rechnitz, he said, “That is to say, if you are not hungry. What were we talking about before? The press, was it? No, it was about people. Have you found interesting people here?”

  “Where are people not interesting? It seems to me that every man has his appeal. Perhaps this is because I am not well acquainted with human nature and don’t know many people. And perhaps it is because most of the people in Jaffa are Russian Jews. And most of the Russians are lively – in mind and in body: they never get involved in one all-absorbing interest, with the exception of arguments; in that respect, of course, they are all alike.”

  The Consul flicked his cigar ash into the tray before him. “If you live another year among these Russians, you’ll see that they, too, are like everyone else. What do they argue about? What is there that’s worth arguing about?”

  “It’s enough for one of them to make a remark, and the other starts an argument at once. And even if they’re both on the same side, there won’t be a thing said without a grand debate.”

  “Most interesting,” said the Consul.

  Rechnitz watched him concentrate on trying to drop the unconsumed ash, and went on, “The facts in themselves may not be of special interest, but the process is interesting, since it repeats itself no matter what the circumstances may be, and one knows from the start that whatever Mr. Greenberg says will be contradicted by Mr. Berggreen.”

  Ehrlich smiled. “You made up those names, my dear fellow.”

  “Well,” said Rechnitz, “it’s true that nobody here is called Greenberg or Berggreen, but a number of people have names that are the reverse of one another.”

  “And what about the Sefardim?” the Consul asked.

  “I’m not acquainted with them. They stay in their own homes and don’t mix with the Ashkenazim. Perhaps they lack a social sense. Besides, they regard themselves as kings who have been deposed and are angry at us Ashkenazim for presuming to reign in their place. But I know the Yemenite Jews a little. They’re a nimble, quick-witted tribe, who love work and are very studious and pious too. We have a Yemenite caretaker at our school. He has the face of a prince, and everything he sees sets his mind working. Once he asked me, ‘Why is it that King David says: Thou hast set a boundary, they shall not cross it, they shall not return to cover the earth? God has set a boundary to the waters of the sea, that they shall not go up on the dry land. And yet we see that the waters of the sea do go up on the dry land.’”

  “And how did you answer the Yemenite?”

  “What could I reply?” said Rechnitz. “I didn’t give him any answer, but I sighed deeply, as one does when regretting that things are not as they should be.”

  “That’s the best answer of all,” the Consul said. “But here I’m smoking, and I haven’t offered you a cigar. Actually it’s a sin to smoke tobacco in this wonderful fragrant air. But what can I do? It’s my addiction. If I’m reading a newspaper or talking to someone, of course I smoke. And if I’m neither reading nor talking, I smoke out of sheer boredom.” He laughed in the way people do who make fun of their own weaknesses and yet are quite contented with them. “Well, if you don’t want a cigar, let’s have a sip of brandy.”

  The Consul tasted some brandy. “Not bad, really,” he commented. After a second glass he gave it fuller praise.

  “This brandy,” said Rechnitz, “comes from Rishon LeZion. How about our going there, sir? You will see a great wine press that has no equal in Europe.”

  The Consul smiled a little patronizingly. “I doubt if I shall have time. After all, one can’t visit the Holy Land and not go to Jerusalem, and we’ve only another four days. You must have been there already. Some tourists I met on the way were not impressed with Jerusalem, you know. Dirt and beggars, they said; nothing but beggars and dirt.”

  “Were they Christian or Jewish tourists?”

  “What does that matter? It’s a holy land for Christians, too.”

  The conversation then took a strange turn. Rechnitz blushed and said nothing.

  “If the air of Jerusalem is as fine as that of Jaffa,” said the Consul, “that will be good enough. I’ve not found the like of it anywhere. And the old Baron says so too. Do you know him? He was a general in Africa, or a governor for his king, or some such dignitary. What do you think, Jacob? Shall I settle down here? My late father’s grandfather came to Jerusalem an old man, and passed away there at the end of a ripe old age. I remember when I was a child, a charity collector from Jerusalem came to the house and my father gave him money. And every year printed matter used to come from there, and every Rosh Hashanah eve my father would send a contribution. I was approached, too, on behalf of the Land of Israel; they tried to get me to buy shares in the Settlement Bank. I said to them, ‘If it’s charity you want, I’m ready to give you something; but what have “settlement shares” to do with the Holy Land? Old men go there to die, but
what have young men to go for?’ – I’m not referring to you, my friend; you came for the sake of your research, and science has its place everywhere!”

  As Rechnitz was about to reply, the waiter came up to announce that their table was ready. The Consul nodded, and said, “We have been talking for a good while now, and all the guests should have had time to finish their meal. Waiter, see if my daughter is ready for dinner.”

  XIII

  When the three of them were seated at dinner, the Consul turned to Shoshanah and asked, “Well daughter, how did you spend your day? I don’t think I’ve seen you since we finished lunch.”

  Shoshanah replied, “Ask our guest that question: he will tell you.”

  “How should Dr. Rechnitz know?”

  Jacob lowered his head as his host asked, “Well Doctor, how did our friend Fräulein Shoshanah Ehrlich spend her day?”

  What did Rechnitz know about Shoshanah’s doings? For a brief moment he had caught a glimpse of her in the garden while he was walking with Rachel and Leah, before she disappeared, leaving him nothing to remember but her nod. He looked at her in perplexity.

  The Consul smiled. “Evidently you have a secret between you. Well now, let’s ask Dr. Rechnitz how his day was spent.”

  Now, thought Rechnitz to himself, I suppose Shoshanah will say, “Ask me.” But Shoshanah said nothing.

  The Consul filled their glasses and drank to their health. As Rechnitz drank, he reflected on how tomorrow they would be traveling on to Jerusalem and he would return to his own affairs. And how they would come back to Jaffa, and leave again.

  Shoshanah was seated on the Consul’s left, facing Jacob. Her spirit seemed to have sunk deep down into her being, or to have fled her body entirely. A light breeze was blowing in; the scent of lemon and orange trees filled the dining room. The lamp on the table shone with double brightness, and the sides of its white base grew red. From the gardens and the citrus groves came the cry of jackals, and the parrot in its cage stirred itself to echo their high-pitched screams. Suddenly the sea awoke; its waves pounded and a pleasant sea smell mingled with the fragrance from the gardens and groves that girdle Jaffa.