by Lily Brett
“Probably it was that birdseed what you did eat what did make you sick,” Edek said.
Ruth was trying to work out how to extricate herself from this situation with grace. She felt trapped in a spiraling kaleidoscope of bananas and pears and vomit and birdseed.
“You need some dry bread and a cup of tea,” Zofia said.
“Perfect,” said Edek.
“I was going to say this, too,” Walentyna said. “Dry bread and tea with lemon.”
“Not tea with lemon, Walentyna,” Zofia said. “Tea without lemon.
Lemon is no good after vomits.”
Walentyna deferred to Zofia’s expertise on the subject of post-vomits remedies. What a horrible word “vomits” was, Ruth thought. She forced herself not to conjure up a picture of several vomits, lying next to each other on a road or some other surface. Ruth could see that she would have to capitulate. She couldn’t hold out on her own against Walentyna, Zofia, and Edek.
“I’ll join you for a little while,” she said. Edek looked happy. All four of them walked to the lounge. Ruth chose the armchair farthest from Edek.
This allowed Zofia and Walentyna to sit on either side of him.
Zofia ordered pickled herring, smoked mackerel, sardines, liverwurst, cheese, and a platter of potato salad. She also ordered some dry biscuits for Ruth. “Dry biscuits will be better for you than dry bread,”
Zofia said. Ruth was pleased. The thought of dry bread hadn’t been appetizing to her. Zofia and Walentyna were beaming at Edek. Edek looked happy, too. Ruth suddenly felt grateful to the two women. Grateful to them for saving Edek from the slump that could have overcome him after Auschwitz.
“Thank you for waiting for my father,” Ruth said to Zofia and Walentyna.
“We were waiting for you, also,” Walentyna said.
“Thank you,” said Ruth.
“You seem like a very nice young woman,” Zofia said to Ruth. Ruth was
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pleased to be called young. She didn’t feel too young. She thought of people in their twenties as young. Not people her age.
“How old are you, Ruthie?” Zofia said. An irritability crept up on Ruth.
She wished Zofia wouldn’t call her Ruthie. She felt mean feeling annoyed with Zofia. It was unkind of her. And erratic. One minute she was feeling gratitude to Zofia and in the next instant, annoyance. This was not admirable, she told herself.
“She is thirty-eight,” Edek said.
“She looks very young for thirty-eight,” Walentyna said. Edek looked pleased. He nodded in agreement.
“She is a pretty girl,” he said. “Like her mother.” Both women nodded.
“I’m forty-three, Dad,” Ruth said. Edek could never remember her age.
He had thought she was twelve for several years. He had managed to keep count of her years from twenty to thirty. Then, he had become stuck on thirty. For four years he thought she was thirty. Now, he had clearly lost track of her age again.
“She looks very very young for forty-three,” Zofia said to Edek.
“Thank you,” said Ruth.
Zofia squinted at Ruth. Ruth realized that Zofia was looking at her cheek. She put her hand up to her cheek. The bite was still there. Still swollen. Sometimes her bites calmed down after the initial swelling. But not this one. This one still felt hot and angry.
“What happened to your face?” Zofia said.
“She did get a bite from a fly,” Edek said.
“A bite from a fly?” Zofia said. “In winter?”
“In winter?” said Walentyna.
“It was a big fly,” Edek said.
“It is not normal to have a big fly in winter,” Zofia said.
“Maybe this fly stayed after the summer because he heard it was going to be a mild winter,” Ruth said. Both women looked at her.
“It was a mild winter, that is true,” Walentyna said.
“How could a fly know this?” Zofia said.
“My daughter does say sometimes crazy things,” Edek said.
“It was not so crazy,” Walentyna said. “It was funny.”
“Yes,” said Zofia. “It is funny to think like this about a fly.” Both women laughed.
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[ 4 1 1 ]
Zofia squinted at Ruth again. “It does not look good,” she said.
“No,” said Edek.
“No,” said Walentyna.
“The swelling will have gone down a bit by the morning,” Ruth said.
“We don’t have to discuss it anymore,” Ruth said to Edek. Zofia got the message. She leaned across to Ruth and changed the subject.
“You are not married?” she said to Ruth.
“No,” Ruth said.
“She was married,” Edek said. “But she did get divorced.”
“Twice,” said Ruth, before her father could add that detail.
“Two times?” Zofia said.
“Three times,” said Edek. Both women looked at Ruth.
“The third time was to get a green card, a visa to live in America. That doesn’t count,” Ruth said.
“It was a marriage,” said Edek.
“It was a ceremony,” Ruth said.
“She was divorced three times,” Edek said.
Walentyna and Zofia looked at Ruth admiringly. Ruth smiled. Ruth could see their admiration was based on the fact that she managed to get three men to marry her.
“She is not such an easy type, my daughter,” Edek said. Ruth groaned.
She knew she was going to hear a replay of why she shouldn’t have left the marriages. Why a married woman was always better off than a single woman. “It is better for a woman if she is with a man,” Edek said. Both women nodded vehemently.
“It is better if she is with the right man,” Ruth said. Zofia and Walentyna nodded even more vigorously. “It’s not better if she is with the wrong man,” Ruth added.
“Okay, okay, I am not going to argue with you,” Edek said. “She does win every argument,” he said to Zofia and Walentyna. “She should have been a lawyer. She would be better than Perry Mason.” The reference to Perry Mason was lost on Zofia and Walentyna, but they agreed with Edek anyway.
“I can see she is a clever girl,” Zofia said.
“She is clever about some things,” Edek said. Oh, no, Ruth thought.
What was she going to have to listen to now? “She does marry such types
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what likes her, but not too much,” Edek said. “She does not like them too much, too. The types what like her very much, she does not want to be with. She is nervous to be with someone what she does like too much.”
Zofia and Walentyna shook their heads in sympathy with Edek’s plight about his daughter’s predilection for partnerships that were less than they could be. Edek’s analysis had startled Ruth. Edek had not been far off the mark. This was not bad for a man who had never seen a therapist or read a psychological journal. In New York, this sort of insight could almost qualify you to set up practice as a therapist. There seemed to be therapists who were former singers, therapists who were art dealers on the side, therapists who were also actors. New York had a therapist for everyone.
“Am I right, Ruthie?” Edek said. Ruth nodded her head. If she didn’t feel too attached to a partner, it saved her a lot of anxiety. Anxiety about their health, anxiety about accidents, anxiety about losing them. Attachment made her feel fearful. Fearful of losing the person she was too attached to. Ruth thought it was probably a common problem and could account for the high percentage of mismatched partners.
“I had a friend with this problem,” Walentyna said.
“Did she leave her husband?” Edek said.
“No,” said Walentyna.
“My daughter does leave her husbands,” Edek said. Ruth was just about to laugh. An image of herself perpetually leaving a series of husbands came into her head. Just as the laugh was
about to come out, she realized that every one of the men in her picture had been Garth. She felt annoyed at herself for thinking about Garth. It was her father’s fault. He was the one who was still connected to Garth.
“My daughter is not such a column type,” Edek said to Zofia and Walentyna. Ruth was about to explain that he meant calm, when both women nodded.
“She looks column to me,” Zofia said.
“I think so, also,” Walentyna said.
“She does always look column,” Edek said. “But inside she is never column.”
“Your father is a very clever man,” Zofia said.
“Very, very, clever,” Walentyna said.
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[ 4 1 3 ]
The food arrived. Ruth was grateful for the distraction. “It does look beautiful,” Edek said, looking at the platter of food in front of him.
“Edek dear, start with a little piece of herring,” Zofia said, as she lifted several strips of herring onto Edek’s plate. Zofia seemed to be in charge of the food. She put a selection of mackerel and sardines on Walentyna’s plate. “Walentyna likes mackerel very much,” Zofia said to Edek. Then she handed Ruth a plate with half a dozen dry biscuits on it. “Ruthie darling,”
she said. “Eat the biscuits. You will feel better.”
Ruth sat back in her chair. Zofia’s endearments were escalating. It was now “Edek dear,” and “Ruthie darling.” Walentyna had a long way to go if she wanted to catch up with Zofia. “Is the mackerel good?” Ruth asked Walentyna. Walentyna nodded. Ruth realized she had asked the question at an inopportune moment. Walentyna had a mouthful of the mackerel she was eating. Walentyna looked embarrassed. She tried to finish the fish in her mouth quickly. “The mackerel is very nice,” Walentyna said, still chewing the remnants of some mackerel, nervously. “It’s very nice mackerel,”
Zofia added.
Ruth looked at Zofia. Zofia had nearly as much food on her plate as Edek had on his. Ruth was sure that what she was looking at on Zofia’s plate was a kilo of herring.
“Eat, Ruthie, eat,” Zofia said.
“Yes, Ruthie, you do need to eat,” said Edek. Edek and Zofia beamed at their shared agreement on what Ruth should do. Ruth thought that Walentyna looked slightly left out.
“My daughter does have her own business,” Edek said. “She does make a lot of money in this business.”
Ruth decided not to argue this point with Edek again. He always dismissed her protests anyway.
“You told us this already,” Zofia said. “What is the business?”
“She does write letters for people,” Edek said.
“Letters?” said Zofia.
“Letters,” Edek said. “It is a big business. In America many people do not know how to write a letter.”
“Really?” said Zofia. “It is not so hard to write a letter.”
“American people are not like European people,” Walentyna said.
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“Of course,” said Zofia.
Ruth was about to point out that some letters were hard to write, but she decided against it. The perplexing nature of her business was giving Edek and the two women too much pleasure.
“She does write many times very complicated letters,” Edek said.
“Oh,” both women said, with obvious relief that there was an explanation for both Ruth’s business and what had appeared to be the oddities of Americans.
“She does write business letters,” Edek said. “And letters for dead people.”
“Dead people?” Zofia said, looking bothered.
“Condolence letters, my father means,” Ruth said.
“Oh,” said Walentyna. “A condolence letter is not easy to write.” Zofia agreed.
“She does write also love letters,” Edek said. Both women leaned forward.
“Love letters,” Walentyna said. “It is very hard to write a love letter.”
“I know this of course, too,” Zofia said. The dry biscuits had settled Ruth’s stomach. Taken away her queasiness.
“The biscuits have made me feel much better,” Ruth said.
“Good,” Zofia and Edek said in unison.
“Good,” Walentyna said, a minute later.
Edek had moved on to the liverwurst. His portion must have stripped the livers of several pigs or cows or whatever animal the livers had come from, Ruth thought. Edek’s portion was enormous. He was eating the liverwurst without the aid of bread. Ruth admired his digestive system. It must be one of the world’s best, she thought. Zofia was eating a large helping of potato salad. Walentyna was still eating her mackerel. Ruth felt sorry for Walentyna. She thought about asking Walentyna if she would like to join her for a walk around the old city. Then she thought the better of it. It would not be a good idea, she decided, to leave Zofia alone with her father.
“You could write very good advertisements for people to meet,” Zofia said to Ruth.
“Zofia means lonely hearts advertisements,” Walentyna said.
“Lonely hearts?” Edek said.
“When people advertise to meet another person,” Zofia said.
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[ 4 1 5 ]
“I know what you mean,” Edek said. “When a man does write an advertisement for a woman he does want. He says he is looking for tall and short and that sort of stuff.”
“That’s right,” Zofia and Walentyna said.
“You could make a lot of money,” Zofia said. “There are many lonely people.”
Edek agreed. “There are many people what are lonely.”
“Edek is lonely, I am sure,” Zofia said.
“He is not,” Ruth said. She was surprised at the reply that had come out of her mouth. Why did she say that? Of course Edek was lonely. He just never admitted it.
“Sometimes I am lonely,” Edek said. Ruth was surprised to hear Edek say he was sometimes lonely.
“My poor lamb,” Zofia said to Edek, in Polish. She patted Edek on the hand. Edek smiled at Zofia.
“It is a very good suggestion what Zofia made,” Edek said. Ruth was startled. Which of Zofia’s suggestions or suggestive behavior was Edek responding to? “This suggestion for the people what are needing lonely letters,” Edek said. Zofia beamed.
“They’re called singles ads in America, and they’re very cheap,” Ruth said. “It wouldn’t be a good market for my sort of business.”
Zofia’s face fell. Ruth felt mean. She needn’t have said anything. It had been unnecessary of her to point out that singles ads were not the right venue for her business.
“Have some potato salad, Edek,” Zofia said. “The potato salad is very good.”
“Okay,” said Edek. Zofia spooned eight or ten spoonfuls of the potato salad onto Edek’s plate. Ruth felt bad for dampening the atmosphere. “Do either of you have children?” she said to Zofia and Walentyna.
“I have one child, a son,” Walentyna said.
“Walentyna’s son is a good son,” Zofia said. Walentyna looked happy.
“He is forty-three, like you,” Walentyna said.
“But he is married,” Zofia said. Ruth laughed.
“I’m not looking for anybody,” she said. Particularly not a Pole, she added to herself.
“He is nearly a grandfather,” Walentyna said.
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“Walentyna is nearly a great-grandmother,” Zofia said. “Can you believe this? Our small, little Walentyna nearly a great-grandmother.”
Walentyna looked confused. As though part of her knew that Zofia’s comments were not quite complimentary, and the other part had been ready to acknowledge the nicety.
“Zofia doesn’t have children,” Walentyna said.
“I did want to have my own life,” Zofia said.
“Zofia is a woman ahead of her time,” Ruth said to Edek.
“What thanks do you get from children?” Zofia said.
That was a disti
nctly Jewish sentiment, Ruth thought, and Jewish phras -
ing. Maybe Zofia had some Jewish blood despite her blondness and her athleticism.
“I am not happy with Ruthie that she does not have children,” Edek said. “I would like still to have a grandchild.” Ruth was not happy with the turn this conversation was taking. She didn’t really think Edek wanted a grandchild. He just wanted to see her settled into a relationship. With Garth, preferably.
“Ruthie nearly can’t have children,” Zofia said to Edek. “She is forty-three. If she wants to have children she has to find someone straightaway.”
“There is someone,” Edek said.
“Oh?” said Zofia.
“Dad, please don’t go into that,” Ruth said.
“I will tell you later,” Edek said to Zofia.
“I don’t want children,” Ruth said to make sure the conversation about Garth remained truncated.
“I can understand why Ruthie feels like this,” Zofia said. “There is no guarantee with a child. You don’t know what you will get. Walentyna is lucky, she got a nice son. But I have seen nice mothers with terrible children and terrible mothers with nice children.” Ruth felt a sudden affinity with Zofia.
“I feel exactly that way,” she said. Zofia smiled. Edek looked unhappy.
“Children are good,” Edek said after a minute. “Where would I be without my daughter?” He produced this argument in favor of children with a flourish.
“With me, in Sopot,” Zofia said. She patted him on the arm.
Walentyna looked disconcerted and began to fidget with her hair. Edek T O O M A N Y M E N
[ 4 1 7 ]
helped himself to more potato salad. Zofia’s retort clearly hadn’t disturbed him. It had unnerved Ruth. Ruth looked at Zofia. Zofia seemed oblivious to the frisson of nervous surprise her reply had elicited. Ruth decided it was time for her to leave. She looked at her father. “I’m going to go for a walk,”
she said. “Do you want to come with me?” Both women looked anxiously at Edek.
“No, Ruthie,” he said. “I will stay here and finish my potato salad.”
“I’ll call you in your room when I get back,” she said.
It had stopped raining. Ruth was glad. She didn’t like walking in the rain.
Even with a raincoat and an umbrella, rain made her feel damp. Flattened.
