Broken Leaves of Autumn

by Eli Hai

  And to think that everything had begun only several months ago. A man from America had called her and asked about pictures from many years ago. Then, there was a visit from the Jewish Agency, and they asked questions about Hannah. Where had they lived? Where had they gone to school? What was the name of the synagogue where their father had prayed? At first, she’d thought it was one of the Holocaust researchers from “Yad Vashem” Museum, or maybe those people who recorded old Holocaust survivors from the Spielberg Archive. But when the man asked when she’d last seen Hannah, she started getting suspicious. Why would a man from the agency ask when she’d last seen her sister? What kind of cruel question was that? It had been years since her sister had died. Did he know something she didn’t? Perhaps, he thought she knew something and wasn’t telling him? And then he told her that her sister had indeed passed away, but not in the Holocaust. She’d died a natural death, he’d told her. When she died, she’d left behind one daughter and a granddaughter and grandson. Rachel almost fainted when she received the news.

  “Hannah? Alive?” Her jaw went slack with astonishment, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “No, no, she isn’t alive,” the man repeated. “She passed. But she didn’t die in the war; she died a natural death of old age.”

  When the shock wore off, she started crying. Right in front of that strange man, she’d sobbed without shame until she ran out of the few tears she still had left. Then, the man gave her a note with the grandson’s name and phone number, left her confused and torn, without any idea what to do. The entire day, she couldn’t decide what to do. Should she contact Hannah’s grandchildren, or should she just leave things as they were? Perhaps, she should wait until the mysterious grandson made the first move and called her? She looked again at the note the man gave her. So, this was her long-lost nephew. Who would’ve believed she had a nephew called Jeff Farmer? It was a nice name, Jeff Farmer, but more suited to a Hollywood actor than a Jewish guy. She remembered “Baruch from Magentza” by Shaul Tchernichovsky, which she’d studied at school. She still remembered how horrified she was when Baruch chose to kill his daughters with his own two hands, and all for the sanctity of God, Kiddush Hashem. And now, she found out that her beloved sister had chosen to convert for nothing! Nothing! How could she understand why she did it? She had no idea what Hannah had been through since they’d been separated. She had no idea how she’d managed to save herself from death. She’d also been in the ghetto, but she was given up for adoption to a gentile woman, which was what saved her. But her sister had been in the camps, and who knows, perhaps the horrifying ordeal she’d gone through had driven her so mad that she’d done the worst thing possible. She shouldn’t judge her sister. Who was she to judge her, by God? She had to respect her decision, like others had respected Rachel’s decision to leave her religious way of life. But with all due respect, that didn’t mean that now she had to meet Hannah’s Christian grandchildren. That was too much for her. Not only did her sister not even try to find her, but she also had to go and convert to Christianity and had severed all ties to her Jewish roots. So why should Rachel now, as old as she was, cope with the consequences? On the other hand, how could she leave this earth without meeting Hanna’s offspring—Hannah, whom she hadn’t seen in sixty years? How could she deny the only possible tie left with her sister? What would she say to Hannah when she met her in the next world. How would she explain her decision to ignore Hannah’s offspring? Oy God, this is too much for me, she screamed silently at an obscure point on the ceiling. Did God hear her? Was her sister watching from above?

  When evening fell, she started feeling sick to her stomach. When she took her temperature, she saw she had a fever. She made herself a cup of tea, adding a sprig of rosemary to it to ease the pain. When that didn’t help, she called Amir.

  When her grandson came, he saw her in bed, shaking with cold despite the heavy heat. He called a doctor right away, who assured them it was nothing but a light flu. No need to panic.

  After he had left, she told Amir everything that had happened in the course of that strange day. Amir was wise; he’d definitely find an answer to her questions and deliberations. But the news didn’t excite Amir, as though he had new aunts revealing themselves every day.

  “I’ll call Jeff,” he suggested. “But I think that first we should share the information with your other sister’s son. The one who lives in Brooklyn.”

  Was her grandson out of his mind? What had happened to his wisdom? He always had good advice to give. But now, she was willing to swear he was insane. Tell Moishel that his aunt converted to Christianity? What a joke. The poor man would have a heart attack. It was bad enough that his daughter had abandoned his way of life, now to tell him that his mother’s sister converted? God forbid. No, the timing wasn’t right. But she would tell Rivka. Rivka was strong and mature enough. The next time she came home from the army and visited, Rachel would tell her.

  “What do you say we tell Rivka first? Then, we’ll think, together, how and when to tell Moishel.”

  “I thought of calling her anyway,” Amir said. “We’ll ask her to sleep over tonight. You shouldn’t be alone, and I can’t stay. I have to go study for an exam I have tomorrow.”

  Rivka arrived immediately. She asked her commander for special leave, gave up on an outing with Yoav, and arrived bursting with curiosity. Amir left the minute she came. Said he was sorry, he had to go and left the two of them alone.

  “That man from the Jewish Agency drove me completely crazy,” Rachel mumbled, and Rivka noticed her shaking hands. She’d been noticing for a while that her aunt’s hands trembled uncontrollably.

  “What man from the agency? What are you talking about, Aunt Rachel?” She stroked her aunt’s hands in an attempt to stop the bothersome tremors, which looked as though any second they would drive her aunt mad.

  Rachel rose from her sickbed wordlessly, shuffled to the dining room table, and took a note out of the drawer.

  “Here, read it.” She shoved the note into her niece’s hand and returned to bed to wrap herself in the thick blanket.

  If her aunt’s hand shook, if her heart plummeted when she heard about her lost sister, there was no describing what happened to Rivka when she saw the name written on the paper. His name! She felt as though the vertebrae of her spine had become weak, as though she’d become a rag doll. A strange pain, one she’d never experienced before, spread along her back.

  “This is the grandson of your grandmother’s sister. He lives in New York. A Christian through and through,” Rachel explained. She couldn’t understand Rivka’s horror. Was it just because he was a Christian? Didn’t the years she spent in Israel help her? Was she still stuck in that Hasidic neighborhood in Brooklyn? Perhaps, Rachel was wrong to tell her. Now, she’d tell her father, Moishel, and who knew how he’d react. If she was so shocked that Hannah had converted, what would happen to the religious faction of the family?

  “My grandmother’s sister’s grandson? I don’t understand, Aunt Rachel. Could you explain what’s going on?” Rivka asked, her voice conveying her distress. But before she received an answer, she felt an awful dizziness come over her, as though the ground was shaking beneath her. Her arms and legs started trembling, and she felt as though she were on a carousel. When she felt slightly better, she looked at the piece of paper again. No, it couldn’t be that same Jeff Farmer, she calmed herself. For sure, there were many Christian Jeff Farmers in New York. It was just a coincidence meant to drive her out of her mind.

  “And not only a grandson. There’s also a granddaughter,” Aunt Rachel added. “Remember my sister, Hannah?”

  “Yes, Grandma’s twin,” Rivka replied shakily.

  “She didn’t die in the Holocaust like we all thought. The official I told you about said Hannah escaped from that hell, immigrated to America, and got married. She had one daughter, and that daughter had two children, a son and a daughter.”

  Rivka’s heart continued pounding. />
  “He said that a young man named Jeff came to their offices in New York. He claimed to be Hannah’s grandson. He had old pictures of us as young girls in Warsaw. Judging by those pictures, there’s no doubt that he’s the grandson of my sister, Hannah.”

  “And where did she disappear to all those years ago? Why didn’t she try to contact you?” Rivka’s voice was steadier now.

  “She had good reason, Rivkel. She’d converted to Christianity and didn’t want us to find out.”

  “Converted to Christianity?” Rivka’s voice was shaking again.

  Was it possible that “her” Jeff, whom Aunt Rachel was talking about, was the long-lost grandson? If so, she’d almost committed the act of the devil by giving her virginity to a relative. What would she do now?

  “I was shocked, too, when the man from the agency told me she’d converted,” Rachel identified with Rivka.

  “And did you call him, this Jeff?” Rivka managed to ask after she’d regrouped some.

  “No! I didn’t think it was the right thing to do,” Rachel said, and after a thoughtful pause, added, “maybe I didn’t have the necessary courage.”

  “What’s wrong, child? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Rachel asked after they both sat silently for some time.

  “I’m thinking,” Rivka said, and wondered whether she should tell her aunt what had happened to her in New York.

  “What are you thinking of, child?”

  “Nothing special.” When she said that, she ducked her head so that her aunt wouldn’t see the tears filling her eyes.

  “Rivkel, don’t try to pull my leg. You’re hiding something from me. It’s all right if you prefer to keep it to yourself, but don’t say it’s nothing special. Judging by your eyes and shaking hands, I can see you’re going through something. Tell me, child, and I’m sure you’ll feel relieved.”

  Rivka looked at the wise old lady. Her face was tear-streaked when she whispered, “Do you know why I came here?”

  “Of course, I know! You didn’t want to remain ultra-orthodox, so you had to leave. That’s also the reason I came to the kibbutz. It was the only way to break away from my old life.”

  “That’s true, Aunt Rachel. You have no idea how right you are, but it’s only partially true.”

  “I can guess, child. Is this the reason you’re crying now?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Well then. Go on. I’m all ears.”

  “It all started when I met a man who wasn’t Jewish, a friend of my brother, Ahron. He lived in our basement apartment and worked for Menachem, my brother-in-law. At the time, I was engaged, but this man captivated my heart from the first moment. Aunt Rachel, you won’t believe how beautiful he is…” Rivka gave in to her memories. “You should’ve seen him, sitting on the sofa, Hannah’le on his lap as he read her a story. That day, I stayed at Ahron’s place until late. I was so happy I couldn’t leave. When I left, it was as though I were hypnotized, insanely charmed by him, impatiently waiting for the day I’d see him again. The temptation to go to his apartment was huge. I struggled with myself every single day. One day, I broke. I couldn’t help myself, so I went. I was very conflicted with myself before I went, but in the end, I couldn’t stand it any longer…I went to his place twice.” Rivka took a deep breath and thought how to continue.

  “And then what happened?” Rachel urged her. She felt vastly relieved that, for the time being, they were taking a break from the grave discussion about her converted sister. Young love always thrilled her, but she still didn’t understand why her niece was telling her about her unrequited love in New York.

  “And then, my secret was discovered. Someone, saw me go in, and everything went to hell. You can’t even imagine. There were some crazy rumors about me, and I didn’t do anything. …”

  “Oh, my poor child.”

  “The rumor that I’d been at his place spread like wildfire. People said I gave my virginity to a Christian. But that’s not what happened, Aunt Rachel. I swore it never happened. But it didn’t help.”

  “And what did happen?” Rachel asked with curiosity mixed with horror.

  “A kiss, Aunt Rachel. A kiss so sweet that its taste stuck to my lips as though I were possessed. A kiss that gave me no peace for days, and maybe…who knows? Maybe it still doesn’t.” Rivka held her breath. Her thoughts took her back to those days.

  “Then what?”

  “Then Mother and Papa wanted to marry me off to a blind man.”

  “Blind? Are they crazy?”

  “Believe me, Aunt Rachel, I didn’t think about his blindness for one second. What drove me crazy was the thought of remaining orthodox. That was something I just couldn’t cope with. Suddenly, the world I lived in seemed so disconnected from me, so unsuitable for me.”

  “And what happened to the boy?”

  “My brother, Yehuda, and his gang beat him up, Papa kicked him out of the apartment, and I haven’t seen him since.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “And I wanted to see him so. I loved him so much…but Jeff didn’t want me. …”

  “Jeff? Did you say, Jeff? God help us, what’s going here? You don’t want to tell me it’s the same Jeff, right? Jeff Farmer?” Rachel was horrified.

  “I don’t know, but I think so…” Rivka said, almost soundlessly.

  “God help us!” Rachel mumbled. “What kind of God is playing tricks on us?”

  “You know, Aunt Rachel, when we met at the airport and I saw Amir the first time, I almost fainted. He looks so much like him that, for a minute, I thought fate had brought us together again. Now I understand why. That’s why I thought it was him, Jeff. …”

  Rachel sighed. “Wondrous are the ways of fate. …” she mumbled. “Nu…and do you still love him?”

  “I don’t know, Aunt Rachel. Even now, I don’t know. I think Yoav is enough for me…although everyone says first love is special,” she added sadly.

  “That’s true.”

  “How do you know, Aunt? Did you have a love like that, too?”

  “Indeed, I did,” Rachel sighed. “All loves are both beautiful and sad. Come sit next to me, my lovely, and I’ll tell you.” Rivka did as her aunt requested, sat next to her, and they hugged each other.

  “Your fever’s down, Aunt. I guess stories are good for you. I’ll make us something to drink, and then we’ll continue talking.”

  Rivka straightened, took a tissue, and wiped her tears. She’d regained her good mood. She decided God had saved her from a fatal mistake.

  Chapter 21

  Rivka was so exhausted, she almost decided to skip her shower. In the end, she took a towel and a change of lingerie, went to the shower, and with her remaining energy, forced herself to bathe. The warm water was pleasant. She swayed under the pounding water that washed every part of her body. She felt her blood accelerate in her veins and revive her. Then she soaped her entire body, first delicately, then more vigorously. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander back to that forbidden kiss. The memory of Jeff’s tongue against hers surfaced as though they’d just kissed. Its taste was so sweet that she imagined herself a bee, sucking the nectar of a flower. He’d intoxicated her to a point that he’d completely paralyzed her and befogged her senses. The sponge caressing her skin and her forbidden thoughts made her nipples hard. Forbidden lust consumed her. She dropped the sponge and recalled the moment she’d almost submitted to him and how an unknown force tore her away from him, preventing an encounter with someone who may very well be her cousin. Granted, he wasn’t the only Jeff Farmer in New York, but deep inside, she knew that the man she’d fallen in love with and her new cousin were one and the same.

  If so, she had to speak with Ahron as soon as possible. If Jeff was their cousin, Ahron probably already knew it. He’d already told her that they’d renewed their friendship. He also told her that he’d visited Jeff, who was the owner of a successful department store, and that he was happily married. Tomorrow, she’d call Ahron and see what was what.

  Th
e water continued running, steam filling the room, to a point that she could barely see. She breathed heavily and started thinking of Yoav and absentmindedly found herself comparing him to Jeff. Although they didn’t look alike at all, she decided she’d chosen well. Yoav wasn’t as beautiful and exciting as Jeff, but his pleasant face, his calm nature, his emotional fortitude, and the peacefulness he instilled in her compensated for everything. She still felt she wasn’t ready for marriage. Therefore, she told him they’d get married only after her army service when she turned twenty-two. Would she be ready then? She wasn’t really sure. On the other hand, Dvora, her friend from New York, had been ready enough to marry at a young age, raise children, and manage a household.

  And what would happen at the wedding? She saw what had happened to Dvora. She’d been present at her friend’s wedding. Only the groom’s family had honored the occasion. Dvora’s family had refused to attend. Both Dvora and Adam’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears. As a result, she’d cut off all ties with her family and hadn’t even told them about the birth of her child. Did a similar fate await Rivka?

  The next evening—morning in New York—she called Ahron. They talked about this and that and, all the while, she kept expecting him to mention Jeff. When he didn’t, she started talking about their grandmother, Gittel, and their Aunt Hannah, but even then, Ahron didn’t say a word implying he knew anything about the matter. She started thinking her feelings had misled her and that the Jeff she knew wasn’t, in fact, her second cousin. In the end, she decided to tell him everything Aunt Rachel had told her.

  Ahron was shocked. He was silent for a long time, and after what seemed like an eternity, he said in a shaking voice, “Yes, it’s the same Jeff. It must be. I feel it in my entire being. It also makes sense that he found Aunt Rachel through the Jewish Agency. I was the one who told him that you came to her through them. I’ll call him tonight and ask him, then I’ll let you know,” he promised.