Read Online Everyday Jews: Scenes From a Vanished Life by Yehoshue Perle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Yehoshue Perle
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the needle onto the table, leaped onto the smoldering straw, and began hopping up and down. Grandpa seemed to have gone crazy, Grandma too. Why did she grab a pillow from the bed and hurl it at Grandpa’s dancing feet?
“Crazy one! What are you doing?” he shouted at her, his face trembling, as he kicked the pillow back into the room.
Mother grabbed Grandma’s shawl, and ran to the door.
Only Wladek remained in the same spot, with his red, frozen feet, chewing methodically, and shaking his nose and chin.
“Blockhead! What have you done!” Grandpa shouted at Wladek, all the while continuing to dance on the smoldering straw.
“What have I done?” Wladek snorted with a full nose. “Why is Pan krawiec shouting like that? It’s winter. I only wanted to get warm. Damn that Magda, she should drop dead this minute! Why didn’t she let me into her bed? Why?”
“May you break all your bones, Magda too!” Grandma pronounced her blessing over Wladek. “Did you come here to set fire to us?”
“I didn’t want to make a fire. What’s Pan krawiec talking about?”
“What are you doing then, you fool? Is that how you warm your feet?”
Grandpa meanwhile had managed to put out the fire with his dancing, and was now gasping for breath, like a consumptive.
Somebody opened a window and the smoke drifted out in a blue, near-invisible haze. Mother wrapped a kerchief around her head and tried to shield me from the open window. Only Grandpa remained still, standing in his vest and tapping his lapels.
“Where did I put that needle? Where is it?”
At that moment, while we were still distraught, the door opened very slowly and there, on the threshold, stood my father.
“Father’s here!” I called out, the first to catch sight of him.
I took a step toward the door.
“Good evening.” Father looked with amazement around the disordered room.
“And a good evening to you!” Grandpa responded. “Well, hello. How are you?”
Grandma quickly closed the window. Mother’s golden spectacles dropped to the floor.
“Take out all that rubbish, you hear?” Grandma bent over Wladek. “And then go, you good-for-nothing!”
Wladek lumbered to his feet. He gathered up the scorched bunches of straw and, grumbling under his breath, carried them outside.
“Why are you standing there like that? Sit down,” Grandpa said.
“What happened here?” Father asked, shooting a glance at Mother, who was taking off her woolen shawl.
“Nothing. That fool of a goy … he wanted to warm his feet with a lighted bundle of straw.”
“Why do you let him into the house?”
“Well, he sometimes fetches water for us, he takes out the garbage …”
Mother had retrieved her glasses. But the corner where she was sitting, to which Father was directing his glances, must have been too dark, so she moved over to the other side of Grandpa’s worktable and resumed reading her book.
Hadn’t she noticed the mute, dreamy look Father was sending her way?
She sat at Grandpa’s worktable, her head slightly raised, like some rich lady, her pretty face tense, her warm, soft double chin quivering slightly.
“So … Warsaw seems to have agreed with you.” Father’s mustache smiled faintly.
No one responded. Grandma stuck her needle quickly into her white muslin, Grandpa pulled some thread from between his lips. I stood leaning against Father and looked straight up into his face.
“So, Mendl, you’re feeling better?”
“Yes, I’m all well again.”
“And when are you going back to the kheyder ?”
“Tomorrow, God willing.”
The silence hung thickly in the room. Father slowly drummed two fingers on the table. My throat constricted and my clothes felt tight. The golden spectacles on Mother’s nose glittered so brightly from the distance that they almost pierced my eyes. Mother’s face shone.
“So, Leyzer, how are you?” Grandpa cut into the heavy silence.
“God be praised.”
“And how’s the business?”
“Not bad …
“Crazy one! What are you doing?” he shouted at her, his face trembling, as he kicked the pillow back into the room.
Mother grabbed Grandma’s shawl, and ran to the door.
Only Wladek remained in the same spot, with his red, frozen feet, chewing methodically, and shaking his nose and chin.
“Blockhead! What have you done!” Grandpa shouted at Wladek, all the while continuing to dance on the smoldering straw.
“What have I done?” Wladek snorted with a full nose. “Why is Pan krawiec shouting like that? It’s winter. I only wanted to get warm. Damn that Magda, she should drop dead this minute! Why didn’t she let me into her bed? Why?”
“May you break all your bones, Magda too!” Grandma pronounced her blessing over Wladek. “Did you come here to set fire to us?”
“I didn’t want to make a fire. What’s Pan krawiec talking about?”
“What are you doing then, you fool? Is that how you warm your feet?”
Grandpa meanwhile had managed to put out the fire with his dancing, and was now gasping for breath, like a consumptive.
Somebody opened a window and the smoke drifted out in a blue, near-invisible haze. Mother wrapped a kerchief around her head and tried to shield me from the open window. Only Grandpa remained still, standing in his vest and tapping his lapels.
“Where did I put that needle? Where is it?”
At that moment, while we were still distraught, the door opened very slowly and there, on the threshold, stood my father.
“Father’s here!” I called out, the first to catch sight of him.
I took a step toward the door.
“Good evening.” Father looked with amazement around the disordered room.
“And a good evening to you!” Grandpa responded. “Well, hello. How are you?”
Grandma quickly closed the window. Mother’s golden spectacles dropped to the floor.
“Take out all that rubbish, you hear?” Grandma bent over Wladek. “And then go, you good-for-nothing!”
Wladek lumbered to his feet. He gathered up the scorched bunches of straw and, grumbling under his breath, carried them outside.
“Why are you standing there like that? Sit down,” Grandpa said.
“What happened here?” Father asked, shooting a glance at Mother, who was taking off her woolen shawl.
“Nothing. That fool of a goy … he wanted to warm his feet with a lighted bundle of straw.”
“Why do you let him into the house?”
“Well, he sometimes fetches water for us, he takes out the garbage …”
Mother had retrieved her glasses. But the corner where she was sitting, to which Father was directing his glances, must have been too dark, so she moved over to the other side of Grandpa’s worktable and resumed reading her book.
Hadn’t she noticed the mute, dreamy look Father was sending her way?
She sat at Grandpa’s worktable, her head slightly raised, like some rich lady, her pretty face tense, her warm, soft double chin quivering slightly.
“So … Warsaw seems to have agreed with you.” Father’s mustache smiled faintly.
No one responded. Grandma stuck her needle quickly into her white muslin, Grandpa pulled some thread from between his lips. I stood leaning against Father and looked straight up into his face.
“So, Mendl, you’re feeling better?”
“Yes, I’m all well again.”
“And when are you going back to the kheyder ?”
“Tomorrow, God willing.”
The silence hung thickly in the room. Father slowly drummed two fingers on the table. My throat constricted and my clothes felt tight. The golden spectacles on Mother’s nose glittered so brightly from the distance that they almost pierced my eyes. Mother’s face shone.
“So, Leyzer, how are you?” Grandpa cut into the heavy silence.
“God be praised.”
“And how’s the business?”
“Not bad …
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