Read Online Portraits by Cynthia Freeman - Free Book Online

in peace.” Then she went out.
    “Jacob?” Gittel said weakly, holding out her hand.
    He went to her and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yes, Gittela?”
    “Thank you for being strong. Poor Hershel was so frightened.”
    It wasn’t fear, but weakness, Jacob thought. He kissed her lightly and left.
    Opening the front door, he saw Hershel sitting on the stairs, looking up at him expectantly. It took all Jacob’s strength to control his anger.
    Hershel’s mouth was slack. “Well?”
    A silent pause, and then Jacob said, “You have a son. When you die you’ll have someone to say Kaddish .” Jacob ran down the stairs, two at a time.
    This day found Jacob a very happy young man. He had gotten a job. The work was hard but out in the open air instead of in some unventilated loft. And the money was good—nine dollars a week.
    When he went to Gittel’s for dinner that evening, he walked in to find Esther taking off her coat.
    From the look on Jacob’s face, she asked, “Nu?”
    “I got a job .”
    “ Mazel tov , where?”
    “On the docks.”
    “On the docks, working in this kind of weather?” she asked, putting on the white apron. “Jacob, those men are bums. With bums you don’t have to—”
    “That’s right,” he said, interrupting her. “I don’t have to associate with them.”
    She struck a match to light the stove and he watched the tip smolder when she blew it out. “Listen, Jacob, I don’t want you—”
    “I took it, mama. No use talking. You know how much it pays?”
    “I don’t care how much. I still don’t—”
    “Nine dollars a week. More than I could make in a factory.”
    “Nine dollars a week?” Shlomo put in. He’d never heard of so much.
    “That’s right, Shlomo, and I’m going to make more too. You, I’m going to send to college and you, mama, I’m going to give half every week.”
    “Me, you’ll give half? I don’t take money from my children and Shlomo can marry a rich girl. She’ll send him to college and you’ll save the money so you can get married.” They all laughed.
    “What’s so funny?” Gittel asked, coming into the kitchen with her six-day-old son.
    “Shlomo’s going to get married,” Jacob told her.
    “I am not,” he said, turning red. Then, excitedly added, “Jacob got a good job, nine dollars a week!”
    “Oh, mazel tov ,” Gittel said.
    “Sure, some mazel tov . He’s going to be working like a goy on the docks with bums. Bums, that’s what they are,” Esther said half angrily.
    Jacob paid no attention as he peered down at the baby. So beautiful. Imagine, a little human being, and this had come from the ordeal of last week. He couldn’t get over it.
    When Hershel walked in from the bedroom, Jacob looked at the slippers on his feet.
    “You have a good rest, Hershel?”
    Hershel looked at him sourly. He hadn’t forgotten the congratulations he’d received the night the baby was born. “Yeah, I was a little tired when I came home.”
    “I can imagine. It’s hard working in a pool hall. Racking up the balls is enough to make any person—”
    “All right, everyone sit down and eat,” Esther said, when she saw Gittel swallow hard. Then she shook her head at Jacob to keep him quiet.
    When they were all seated at the table, Shlomo said to Hershel, “Jacob got a good job.”
    “Just eat before it gets cold,” Esther snapped, wishing the meal were over already. She would warn Jacob later not to antagonize Hershel. It only hurt Gittel, and she knew Jacob would never want to do that. And of course, whatever Jacob did, Shlomo thought he could get away with too.
    That night, after promising his mother he would be more polite to Hershel, Jacob sat down and wrote a long letter to Lotte.
February 11, 1907
    Dear Lotte,
    Not a day has passed that you have not been in my thoughts. During that long voyage, I would lie awake in the dark and feel as though you were there with me. It made it easier to endure our separation. I keep your picture close to