When Moishe finished cleaning the bowls Bobby got up from the table and asked Moishe to show him how to use the row machine, It be time I got me some exercise, get my strengt back. Moishe felt his insides instantly knot and the smile twist off his face. He stared at Bobby for a moment….I be too weak man….Moishe nodded his head and followed Bobby out of the kitchen. Bobby sat in the machine and pulled back on the oars, having difficulty moving them, Damn, they be some tough suckers Mush. You be pulling like this? Moishe nodded his head and Bobby shook his in admiration, You be a strong ol man Mush, damn.
Moishe showed him how to adjust the tension and to seat himself properly. But is important you start easy, to take time. Your muscles are still bruised, very tender. You must go very, very slow. Is very important.
I cant be waitin Mush. I gotta be gettin my strengt back now. Them muthafuckin spics aint callin no time out while I get my ass in gear, no fuckin way Mush.
But too much strain youre getting weaker, and if youre hurting your muscles maybe you never get strong. Do it like so—Moishe reduced the tension all the way, and Bobby started pulling on the oars slowly—this way you loosen muscles first. Is best.
Moishe nodded when he was satisfied that Bobby knew how to use the machine then went to the living room and sat in his chair.
So…I go to the grave to dig up the past, and he wants his strength to kill—Moishe closed his eyes and shook his head in sadness and defeat—and now I care about this boy…I knew I would, and you knew I would and now again salt is rubbed into my open wounds. Is there some law against an old man living in peace? O God—holding his head and resting his arms on his legs—why cant I just tell him to leave? Why cant I just tell him it is time for him to go home to his family? Im not his father or his keeper. Why do I do these things? Why cant I simply feed a hungry mouth without loving it and being involved with its heart? Why must I give my heart and soul with my bread? He builds his strength to kill who he sees as responsible for his girl friends death and his pain. This has always been the way of the world. Fine. Let it be so. Im not here to change the world. Why cant I let him do what he is going to do without having my heart broken…over and over? Hes no concern of mine…no flesh of my flesh, no blood of my blood….Hes free to do what he must, I dont deny him that, but why must I the with his enemies? Why must I always the to be reborn to the again and again. Its enough! Its….O, why do I yell so loud in my head? I know I will sit and ache and the a thousand times before he even leaves to find them…this I know…oh, how well I know. So help me to just accept that this is what I will do and will be here with my arms and heart open…always…what else is there for me to do?
Bobby pulled the oars gently and slowly, aware of the severe tenderness in his muscles, yet building up a rhythm that slowly, imperceptibly increased until he had to suddenly stop and ease his arms off the oars and catch his breath, Damn, this sucker like to kill me…
I bes be doin it like Mushie say, he be right on about everything else, guess he know about this shit too. Bobby rested for a few minutes, then started again, slowly, until he was once again rowing too fast and was forced to stop, Damn, this muthafucka seem like it got a mine of its own, cant seem to be doin like Mushie say. Again he rested a moment, then started rowing, continuing the process until he just hung on the oars….He thought of doing a few push-ups, but figured there was no way he could be doin that, so he laid on the floor and did situps until he was exhausted, ending up hugging his knees, head on arms and panting, until the dizziness stopped and he got up and went into the whirlpool and finally the shower, the process relaxing and rejuvenating, but his expression reflected his depressed feelings. He wrapped himself in the thick robe and went into the living room and looked at Moishe for a moment.
Moishe continued to stare at the cat he was petting, then felt Bobbys presence and looked up, instantly aware that Bobby was troubled by something new, something other than Maria…or perhaps it was in addition to it. Moishe continued to pet the cat as he waited for Bobby to tell him what was wrong….
I be hurtin Mush—Moishe opening his eyes wide and mutely asking what was wrong—I dont mean like there be something wrong, but I be sore…real sore—Bobby was obviously building up to something and Moishe waited, trying to encourage him with his expression—I cant hardly move that sucker Mush—A shroud of sadness seeming to cover Bobby—I guess I really be weak Mush….You be right…it gonna take some time fore I get strong, but I keep pullin them muthafuckas, I dont be whimpin out, no fuckin way.—Moishe nodded his head and his face reflected his pride and satisfaction in Bobbys attitude, his courage, even though he dreaded what Bobby wanted to do with his strength—Its taking time, but its coming—Moishes expression so filled with understanding and acceptance and empathy that Bobby stared into his eyes for many minutes before smiling and nodding and going to get dressed.
Moishe watched Bobby leave the room, then nodded his head as he accepted a decision. When Bobby came back he put the cat on the floor and got up, So, youre strong enough to take a ride?
Bobby nodded and pulled his shoulders back.
Good—nodding his head—Ya…is good.
They walked to the subway slowly, mostly silent, Bobby looking around and surprised at how differently everything looked today, in the sunlight. In many ways it was so much uglier, the light shining on every crack and broken bottle, illuminating every chink in the tumbling walls, every broken window, but it wasnt threatening, you could see there was no one hiding in the shadows, your muscles werent tense with expectation everytime you turned a corner. It be a ugly muthafucka but you could shine it on.
As always, the area reminded Moishe of his final years in Europe when it seemed like the entire continent was rubble, occasionally walls standing until they were torn down, in time the rubble cleared away, grass planted sometimes until another building took the place of the one that had been bombed. But here the rubble was never cleared away, just added to and piled on by the survivors in little, impotent acts of defiance. Every day Moishe would look around and be reminded of so many years ago, but at least here he wasnt assaulted with the smell of the camps, the stench from the furnaces. There was no pain here for Moishe because there was no search for loved ones, no despair over the past or hope for the future. He was simply walking through a devastated and deserted area of the south Bronx with Bobby and soon they would be on a subway train in the midst of people and noise.
As they stood on the platform waiting for the train Bobby asked Moishe where they were going?
Brooklyn.
Brooklyn? No shit? I aint never been to Brooklyn.
Moishe looked at him and smiled, All this time you have never been to Brooklyn?
Bobby shrugged, Why bother?
Moishe grinned and shrugged, Ya—he started laughing—Ya, why bother….
The longer they were on the train, the more nervous Bobby became. He had never been this far from the hood in his life. Being at Moishes was bad enough, but he knew he was safe there, but here…wherever he was at this moment, was too far away, especially when he was too weak to fight or even run, but that was something he never did have to worry about because he was no runnin wimp…but right now he could just about be liftin his arms and so he looked around cautiously, seein who looked like trouble, who might be wantin to get up side some suckers head, but everythin seemed to be cool…least ways he be hopin so….But even with the jerkin of the train and the noise that was giving him a headache, and knowing he was far away from the hood, he still be feelin safe with Mushie an that be a funny thing how jus bein with an old honky like Mushie could make him feel safe when Mushie not be knockin no heads together, but he be a strong sucker, Bobby seen that, but he jus aint no fightin man, Bobby could see that too, but he feel all powerful safe with Mushie, more safe than any time in his life and Bobby looked at Moishe for a moment, wondering how this old man made him feel safe, and inwardly shook his head, just not able to figure that one out.
When they came up out of t
he subway the street was wide and bright and felt so different than his hood Bobby stopped for a minute and looked around. The streets were jammed with people and cars and trucks, just like the hood, but somehow it was different, like it was easier here somehow. In the distance he saw a huge open space with a tall stone something going up pretty high and a lot of trees and when they started walking they walked in that direction.
Where we goin Mush.
Moishe nodded in front of him, The park….Prospect Park.
Prospec Park….Bobby thought for a second….What we be doin in Prospec Park? How far we from home, we be on that train a long time Mush?
Moishe shrugged, whose knowing? 45 minutes—Moishe chuckled, On the way back Im measuring…every clickety is 1 meter, every clackity 2 meters…clickity, clackity, clickity clackity—and Moishe suddenly started laughing and Bobby stared at him for a moment, surprised, then started laughing too, Moishes laugh so happy it just swept Bobby up and they both laughed for a few minutes as they walked to Prospect Park.
It was a park day: warm, sunny, light breeze, the park filled with people of all ages, from weeks to years old, and there was every human noise known coming from the trees and the sloping grass-covered ground. They were walking by the bridle path and Bobby suddenly stopped as he heard an unfamiliar noise, then stared at the slight bend in the path and watched as a trio of horsemen came into sight: a man, a woman and a young girl, evidently a family, and Bobby just stared, transfixed, especially by the young girl who was wearing a complete riding habit, remaining riveted to the spot, moving only his head as he watched them ride by, still staring until they were hidden by the trees. Moishe was amused as he watched Bobby, You never before see riders?
Bobby shook his head, Uh uh. What the fuck they be doin?
Moishe laughed, Riding elephants, what else? You never see people ride elephants?—And Moishe continued laughing, obviously having such a good time that again Bobby started laughing as he shook his head, Mus be somethin here be gettin you high Mush. I aint seen you smokin nothin, but you sure be outta your head—and Bobby continued shaking his head and laughing.
After a few minutes Moishe stopped and he put an arm around Bobbys shoulder and hugged him slightly, Bobby being startled, but standing still and not shaking Moishes hand off but feeling all warm inside and safe like his hand was alive with something, feeling so safe that it didnt even occur to him he felt safe, just that Moishes hand was like magic and Bobby felt good. Soon they were just smiling and continued walking, Moishe pointing to the bridle path, Thats a riding path.
People really ride horses here?
Moishe nodded.
Bobby shook his head, Man, this Brooklyn be a far out place Mush.
Moishe was smiling, You never see before?
Uh uh, least ways not in the street, jus tv.
So….Now youre seeing Brooklyn cowboys.
Again they laughed, Bobby grinning from ear to ear, I be gettin as high as you are Mush I be livin in this muthafuckin park.
Ya, ya, is good. But the elephants theyre tramping me?
O man, you too much. You be one crazy dude Mush—shaking his head, grinning, and feeling like huggin Moishe.
They continued walking, Bobby stopping occasionally to watch a kid flying a kite or model plane, or a group throwing a Frisbee, the look of wonder on his face filling Moishe with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and affection.
Bobby had never spent so much time walking on grass and from time to time he would bounce up and down on the balls of his feet, the softness of the earth under him delighting and amusing him. They continued walking, avoiding being run over by the running kids and dogs, until Moishe stopped. Bobby looked at him, then around and back at Moishe, Why we stoppin Mush?
Thats the tree—nodding toward a huge willow tree a hundred yards away on the edge of the lake.
The tree?
Ya.
Bobby continued to look at Moishe.
Our tree. Gertrude and me…and our son—He looked at Bobby and smiled—Our family tree.
Bobby just looked at Moishe not understanding what he was talking about. Moishe started walking again until they reached the tree and Moishe sat and leaned against the trunk, Bobby sitting beside him.
The branches reached out almost 30 feet at the broadest and the tips dipped to the ground, the sunlight dancing on the leaves waving slightly in the breeze, and reflecting off the rippling water of the lake a few feet away. Sitting under the tree, looking at the lake through the branches, the sounds of laughter coming from the boats on the lake as people rowed or paddled, the dancing light, the moist coolness coming from the ground, the smell of the grass and earth and water, the air easing on his face as it worked its way through the branches and leaves, the presence of Moishe and the memory of his hand on his shoulder, the sky highlighted with clouds glimpsed through the tree…all created a new world for Bobby, a world that seemed to have no walls or corners or shadows, a world where you never had to look over your shoulder and it almost made Bobby want to run because there seemed to be nothing to lean against, nothing familiar, nothing in his experience to help him feel safe, but somehow Moishe solved all that just by sort of being there and grinning that stupid grin of his….Yeah, it was alright, and he leaned back against the trunk of the tree and took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked around and everything was still there, just as it had been a minute ago, and he looked at Moishe who was looking out at the water, an occasional duck bobbing on the surface, an expression of such peaceful contentment on his face Bobby felt his face smiling too. Moishe continued to look at the water as he spoke,
In old country we have like this a tree too. When I was a young man and just started working for Mr. Kreiger Im coming here, haha, going there, with Gertrude. Our first date is picnic by the lake and we/re sitting under tree, Gertrude and I. She has for us a basket of food and Im bringing wine—Moishe looks at Bobby, a beautiful sense of softness about him while remembering vividly the times of his youth, Bobby not really knowing what he was talking about, just picking up on Moishes feelings—And we sit there and eat and laugh and talk and look at the water and the ducks and row around the lake and come back and just are stretching out on the grass….
Im not even kissing her—Moishes smile broadened, then he chuckled for a moment as Bobbys eyes widened—Is true…we hold hands a little while we talk, a little bit sometimes, but Im so scared to kiss her but all the time in my chest my heart is pounding and my stomach, Achhh, mine stomach is already in my throat, O Bobby you should see my Gertrude—Moishes eyes filling with such love and affection they were brighter than the sun on the leaves—and everyday is being like today…even when one day it rains after we/re spreading the blanket and shes unpacking the food….Ya, everyday like now with music in the air…and shes loving me like the tree is loving the sun—Moishe grins almost selfconsciously, continuing to glow with love, Bobby totally transfixed, mesmerized, by Moishes story, but more by his feelings—Ya Bobby, you should be seeing her with the sun spinning around in her hair…it was so golden Bobby like more than any flower…like honey and always when we/re there a butterfly is flying around her head, ya, ya, is true, always, I dont know we go there how many times and always a butterfly, always, even up to the last time we/re there…a butterfly dancing in the golden sunlight of her hair and such a happy dance O Bobby who is thinking trouble??? who is thinking like what was going to happen, ya theres trouble, ya, ya, in all life theres trouble, but Bobby who is thinking with the butterfly dancing in the golden light, the water sparkling, the birds singing and we/re hugging, eating, drinking wine and telling each other such things O Bobby such things of love and all true from our heart so whos thinking that some day the birds and the butterflies and even the flowers turn into beasts, maddened, crazed beasts of prey who devour the land ach Bobby, you should see…you should see our little boy running after the ducks and geese, hes falling and getting up and falling and we/re laughing and he st
umbles and the ducks quack and waddle a few feet at a time—Moishes head back, laughing, Bobby grinning—and then is biting his foot a big goose and hes yelling and is so funny….O Bobby…is so funny…and always when there, before we/re married, married after and with our son always is coming the butterfly…is true Bobby, always is coming the butterfly—Bobby staring at Moishe whose expression was almost angelic, obviously so happy in just remembering those days, the memories bringing not only the joy of then, but also replacing all the pain that followed in the days, and years since…and Bobby continued to stare, never having been around anyone like Moishe, never feeling the way he did at this moment, nothing in his life comparable to what Moishe was talking about because Bobby could see by the way Moishe looked that this was different than anything he knew or could remember, for damn sure the moms never had no look on her face like Mushie be having now…but suddenly Bobby did remember something that made him feel good all over at the time and in the remembering, when he was a little kid and it was one of those really hot summers and they turned on the hydrant and all the kids were running through and in the water yelling and screeching…it was Bobbys first time with a hydrant open like that and it suddenly became another world. He had seen hydrants, and especially that one on his block, and heard the word, hydrant, but never really knew what they were for and now all of a sudden instead of burning up with the heat he was feeling cool and running and screaming with the other kids and the hydrant became a magicians wand transforming the blazing street into a cool wonderland and the air was suddenly free of the stink of garbage and big folks yellin at little kids, and the little kids yellin at the littler kids and even some of the old sourpusses was laughing as the kids screeched their way through the powerful stream, playing every game they could think of with the stream of water, sometimes standing to the side and jumping up and down on the wet streets, their sneakers squishing and squeaking, older kids shoving younger kids into the water, younger kids showing off for the older kids, ‘watch me, watch me’!!!! the cars coming down the street stopping, closing their windows, cursing the water and the kids but only some and anyway, Bobby didnt hear the ones that were pissed off, too delighted to be aware of anything but having fun, and the cars would crawl, barely moving through the area, windshield wipers whacking back and forth, drivers nervous because they were afraid of hitting the kids as they ran and yelled not paying attention to where they were going, then continuing down the street but sooner or later another one would come through the stream and the kids would yell at the driver to hurry up, hurry up…and even after the water was turned off they continued running in the wet streets, the air still so different, so unfamiliarly clean, and then the ice pushcart came around and he got a ice with strawberry and he sucked it and chewed it, feeling the cold almost numb his throat and stomach and then he sat on the curb by the hydrant, reaching over and touching it from time to time, thinking of it as his friend, wanting to talk to it but knowing if he did everybody would make fun of him so he just talked to it to himself, and that night in bed and many other times when it was so hot and sticky he couldnt hardly move through the air. He sat on the curb very aware of how his wet clothes felt on his body, his wet sneakers on his feet, the wet ground under his butt and the incredible magic of the hydrant that had changed his world of smells and heat and grouchy and crabby big people to one of just a whole lot of fun and something else he didnt understand, but something that made him feel good and he never forgot, he never forgot how one minute he felt crushed and squeezed by the street and then all of a sudden it no longer had walls but was wide open, like the hydrant, and became a really great, great place, like some kind of fairy tale and he felt like he never felt before…all just like that, out of nowhere, and he hadnt even hoped for anything like that, it just happened out of nowhere…just like that….
The Willow Tree: A Novel Page 14
