Portraits

by Cynthia Freeman

  “No, you are not. You almost ruined his life once, but I won’t allow you to make his death any harder than it is.” Without another word he turned and went back to his father’s room, closing the door softly behind him. Jacob sat down on the wooden bench, alone.

  Shlomo died near dawn on Friday, but he did not die alone. His wife and two sons were with him, and the last words he uttered were to Nadine…“You’ve been my resting place, my love…”

  According to tradition the funeral had to be held on Friday before sundown.

  Jacob waited alone in his hotel room during the funeral, but he could see it all. A still body lay on a slab, waxen and yellow, and coins covered his eyes…Yis-ga-dal, v’yis-ka-dash…Sleep well, Shlomo. No matter what I did, or you said…I loved you. I’d give everything I have to make it up to you. Too long…too late…

  After the funeral Gittel and Esther stayed with Nadine and her family for a brief time, but the house was full of friends who had come to pay their condolences and Esther was tiring. Gittel took Nadine aside. “Forgive us for leaving so soon, but mama must go to the hotel and lie down. And Nadine, may God be good to you and see you through this. I must take mama home tomorrow…and there’s poor Hershel. He needs me so since he had the stroke.”

  “Yes, Gittel, darling…you have your burdens to bear. Shlomo loved you very much.”

  When they found Jacob sitting in his room, he hadn’t shaved and what he was feeling was clearly written in his eyes. The scars of too much to remember…

  “Jacob,” Gittel said, “I have to take mama home. Do you think it would be possible for you to get us a flight tonight?”

  “I’ll go with you. I’ll get the tickets.” He called home. “Shlomo’s gone, Sara.” He could hardly go on. “I thought I would come home, but I feel I should take Gittel and mama to Cleveland, not let them go alone…My mother hasn’t even spoken since…”

  “I’m sorry, Jacob, of course.”

  “You understand, Sara.”

  “Yes. You do what you feel is right.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “I’ll survive, Jacob.” I’ve managed for a long time, she thought. When they hung up Sara thought about her survival. It was a survival without much love…yet she could not forget Shlomo as he was when she’d first come to live with Esther. What would have happened if Esther had refused to take her in? What would her life have turned out to be? What foolish questions…The past was history. Did she have a future…?

  Jacob’s mother was living in the Hebrew Home for the Aged. Was this what happened in the end? He had condemned Esther for what she had once done to him, what kind of a son had he been? He hadn’t seen her in years, hadn’t even bothered to inquire how she was living, had barely provided for her. He had known she was in an old people’s home, but this, he couldn’t have imagined. Doddering old men and women sat aimlessly in the hall, staring out into space, forgotten…It was as though they were nonexistent, as though they were simply waiting, hoping for death to rescue them.

  Gittel had gone home to Hershel and Jacob sat now by his mother’s bed, watching as she lay motionless. The effort of talking was too difficult for her. He stayed this way by her side for two days, and had a cot brought into the room although he hardly slept. Listening to his mother’s shallow breathing, he could almost hear her thoughts…no mother should outlive her child…

  The next morning, Ester Dubin Sandsonitsky was gone. It was as though she had willed herself into death. The only words spoken before the end were, “I’ll be with you, my Shlomo…my baby…”

  Jacob threw himself across her, holding her close. Even at the end, mama, you died for Shlomo. Oh God, and even at the end I was jealous…

  The next day, as he saw his mother being put into the ground, the memory of his father’s funeral came back to him. God, there was so much to remember. He looked at Gittel’s children, three tall and handsome sons and a lovely daughter. In spite of Gittel’s financial problems, somehow she’d managed to educate her children. Two were pharmacists, one a lawyer, and Bertha, Gittel’s daughter, had become a schoolteacher. Rachel’s words rang loudly in Jacob’s ears…“I want to go to college, papa”…But he’d turned away her request. He hadn’t really been the good father he’d thought he was. No…he hadn’t helped Doris when she needed him. At the time he had justified it to himself, but the truth was he’d denied himself the joy of giving, and he’d done to her what he’d blamed his mother for doing…yes, he had abandoned her, as surely as he’d thought Esther had abandoned him. And Lillian? He had deliberately broken up her first marriage because Jerry had become a constant reminder to Jacob of his own guilt…and so Jerry had to be eliminated…But it had done no good. The nightmares persisted. Shlomo’s words would not go away. When Jacob had called him after he’d stormed out of his office, he’d said, “You’re not my brother. You’re dead as far as I’m concerned…” As the last shovel of dirt was thrown over Esther’s gravesite, Jacob wept. He had too much to be forgiven for…

  After the funeral was over they went back to Gittel’s house, and when he saw Hershel, a sick, crippled old man, all the hostility toward him was gone as well…replaced by the chilling knowledge that he could never undo, or make up for, the past.

  When Jacob returned home he was not alone in his bereavement. After the little girls had moved, Sara became very ill. For two weeks, she had hardly been able to eat, and had excruciating pains in her abdomen. The night Jacob came home, she rang the intercom to his room at midnight. Barely able to speak, she said, “Jacob, please come.”

  Within moments he was standing before her bed. “What’s wrong—?”

  “I don’t know, Jacob, I just have these terrible pains in my stomach.”

  “I think we’d better call the doctor.”

  He sat with her while they waited for Dr. Forster to arrive. When Jacob met the doctor at the front door he had no need to tell him where Sara’s room was. In the last two weeks he’d been there nearly every day.

  After examining her, Dr. Forster walked out into the hall, where Jacob was waiting. “Mr. Sanders, I think we’re going to have to take your wife to the hospital. For surgery…”

  Genuinely shaken, Jacob asked, “What is it, what’s wrong—?”

  “Mrs. Sanders has a gastro-intestinal problem, and I’m afraid it may be quite serious. She’s in a very weakened condition…she hasn’t eaten in weeks, which I warned her about. But I’m going to be perfectly frank with you, I think there’s a good deal more to this. For some reason, your wife seems to have given up…Well, we’ll talk about that later. Let me call the hospital.”

  When the ambulance arrived and Sara was taken out, Jacob was trembling inside, and as he got dressed he knew he couldn’t face this alone.

  He called Lillian.

  It was two o’clock in the morning. Lillian answered groggily.

  “Lillian…” His voice broke.

  She sat up in bed immediately. “What’s wrong, papa?”

  There was no anger in his voice tonight. “Mama’s just been taken to the hospital at Stanford.”

  Her heart was pounding. “What do you mean, papa, what happened?”

  “Well, for the last few weeks mama’s been pretty sick…I admit I didn’t take it too seriously at first, but… the doctor was here and she’s going to be operated on…”

  “Oh, my God. Look, papa, you want me to come and get you?”

  “No, I’ll pick you up.”

  “All right, I’ll be waiting.”

  Dan was awake now. “What’s wrong, darling?”

  “It’s my mother, she’s going to be operated on—”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, darling, we can’t leave the children alone and I have no idea when I’ll be home. Please get the girls ready for school in the morning. Mama’s at Stanford. I’ll be in touch with you later.”

  Suddenly she began to cry, and Dan took her in his arms.

  “It’s strange, I can’t
remember any of the bad times at all…I just hope that…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Lillian and Jacob waited in the hall as Sara was being prepared for surgery. Her nurse summoned Lillian. “Your mother’s asking for you.”

  Swallowing hard, running her hand over her dry lips, she walked into the room. Taking Sara’s hand in hers, she bent over her mother. “Yes, mama?”

  “Lillian, if anything happens to me, take care of papa. He’s not as strong a man as you think he is—or as he thinks he is.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you, mama.”

  “Promise me, Lillian.”

  “I promise, mama—”

  Lillian stayed until the injection took effect, then went out in the hall and waited with her father. It was nine hours before Sara was wheeled back to her room.

  Both Lillian and her father were exhausted when he dropped her off at her home. The house was terribly quiet. The girls were at school and Dan was at the store. Lillian took two aspirin, walked into the kitchen and prepared a cup of coffee. As she sat drinking it, the yellow phone on the wall kept staring back at her. Finally she got up and dialed.

  When she heard Doris say hello, she almost wanted to hang up. Her guilt for neglecting Doris came flooding back over her. “Doris…it’s good hearing your voice.”

  “Thank you…It’s been a long time, Lillian. How are you?”

  “How am I…well, a great deal has happened since we last saw each other.”

  Doris really hadn’t needed to be reminded. “How are things with you, Lillian?”

  “They could be better…I’m sorry I didn’t call when I had really good news to tell you. I’ve remarried…”

  “Congratulations—”

  “Thank you, I wish that was the only reason I was calling…Mama’s had an operation. It’s serious and I felt it only right to tell you…”

  A long pause. “I’m sure you mean well, but I honestly wish you hadn’t called. I think it’s a little cruel. Now that you’ve told me, what do you propose I should do?”

  “I guess I’m just not thinking right, but somehow I thought you should know, would want to—”

  “I’m sorry mama’s sick and I hope with the help of God she’ll recover. Much more than that, I can’t say.” Yes, Doris wished she were a saint, had no feelings…but being human, it just seemed impossible to set aside her feelings…she’d been so used—and by her own mother…She wondered if Rachel would be contacted and would come rushing to mama’s side…

  After she’d hung up Lillian realized it had indeed been cruel to involve Doris in their lives after what they’d done to her. She just wasn’t thinking. Even if Doris had come to the hospital, the residue of papa’s feelings would have surfaced, and chances were that there would have been a confrontation. His feelings for Doris were never going to change.

  But damn it, Rachel’s feelings shouldn’t be so sacred. Lillian picked up the phone and called Rachel’s apartment, only to be told that she was in La Paz, Mexico. “This is an emergency and I have to get in touch with my sister. Would you be kind enough to tell me where they are?”

  After Lillian was told, she placed the call to La Paz. Rachel was not available at the moment, but when she returned the message would be given to her. How nice…

  She called Dan, took a bath, changed clothes and was almost out the front door to pick up Jacob when the phone rang. Her heart pounded—it was either Rachel, or the hospital. She yanked the receiver off the hook. “Yes?”

  “Lillian?”

  “I’m sorry, Rachel, but I’m calling to tell you that mama is seriously ill.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that Lillian. How seriously?”

  “Well, how serious is serious? I just got through telling you. She had surgery and she’s not out of the woods yet. As a member of the family, I thought you might like to know.”

  The strain in Lillian’s voice was apparent, as was the edge. “I’ll be there as soon as I can get a plane.”

  “I think that’s very decent of you. I’ll see you when you get here.” …

  As Lillian sat in the hall with her father she said, “Papa, I called Rachel and she’ll be here as soon as possible. She’s flying from Mexico.”

  He reached for the handkerchief in his back pocket and wiped his eyes. But the images, and sounds, of the past persisted…pushcarts being rolled over cobblestone, vendors hawking their wares on Hester Street, a kosher restaurant on Rivington, a little boy by the name of Shlomo, a sister Gittel…“push harder, Gittel, hold on, Gittel…” A six-year-old blonde, blue-eyed little girl holding his hand on a hot summer night…charlotte russe, ten cents…The pain he was feeling was so acute, so personal, that he got up and walked to the end of the corridor and stood looking out to the lawns beyond.

  And suddenly, breaking through, was his relationship with Gloria…another selfish indulgence he’d neatly rationalized. He’d help her, provide for her any way he could, but he was through. He’d been using her, as he’d used so many others…

  Jacob was a frightened man. He had never been able to reveal his weaknesses to others, or to himself. Sara had seen it, and now her illness brought to the surface things that no longer could be pushed aside. He missed Shlomo terribly, and the pain of his death, of being told that his brother didn’t want to see him, was still acute. And Gittel? Gittel was an old lady who cared for Hershel, and Jacob sent her a check each month to compensate for his neglect of them. When Shlomo died Esther could no longer face life and willed herself to death. The Hebrew Home for the Aged—it was a sight never to be forgotten. To end one’s days in such a place…And now with Sara’s illness, his greatest fear was that he would end his life alone, shut away without a soul to mourn him. He had lived too much of his life without love. Would it end that way…?

  At four o’clock the next afternoon Rachel walked down the corridor toward her father and sister. She caught her breath when she looked at papa…My God, he’d aged so. She threw her arms around him. “Papa…why does it take tragedies for people to come together?”

  “I don’t know, Rachel. I don’t seem to know the answer to too many things today.”

  And then she embraced Lillian. “Thank you for calling…”

  Lillian could only nod and force a smile…

  That night Rachel stayed with Jacob, and Lillian went over to join them after spending a little time with Dan and the children. There was a chill that seemed to permeate the very walls.

  After Jacob excused himself and went to bed, Lillian and Rachel talked. “Why didn’t you let me know that you got married, Lillian?”

  “Would you have cared?”

  “Lillian, I know you’re angry, so I’m going to ignore that remark. Of course, I would have cared.”

  “Well, I’d never have guessed it from your actions. There’s no debate that you were right not to let mama dominate your life. I don’t think anybody can blame you for that. But for God’s sake, Rachel, you’ve removed yourself so totally from all of us that we’re strangers. I know you live in a different world from any of us, that we can’t have a kaffee klatsch, but you might at least have tried to keep in touch. You never seemed to want anything to do with us even when we were growing up. You haven’t really changed, Rachel, not really…”

  “But you have, Lillian.”

  “Well, I think the things that have happened to me would have changed anybody…Anyway, I suppose when all is said and done, you’ve got your life and you’re entitled. The one who really breaks my heart is Doris. Boy, if you think you had it bad—well, the Lord made it all up to you, Rachel. But poor Doris didn’t even have to try to get rid of the family, the family got rid of her. And she’s left paying for everybody else’s sins…”

  “You make me feel like a heel—”

  “The truth may hurt. So you don’t like mama and papa, but Doris and I are your sisters. How come you never thought it important to be in touch with us?”

  “I’m not sure…I guess my life j
ust changed without my realizing it. It’s not a great excuse, but it’s the only one I can come up with…”

  “Well, at least that’s honest…you should call Doris.”

  “I will…”

  “Well, it’s been a long day and I think we ought to get a little sleep. I’m going home, I’ll see you in the morning.” Lillian paused at the door and looked at Rachel. “I have to say one thing for you, age certainly hasn’t been too unkind to you. You’re as beautiful as ever, Rachel.”

  “And you are more beautiful than ever.” …

  Gradually, Sara began a slow recuperation. If there had been an unkind word between her and Jacob in the past, now no one would ever imagine that he was anything less than the most loving and adoring of husbands. His only concern now was that Sara should survive.

  For three months Sara was indulged and pampered. The cost of the private nurses was the least of Jacob’s concerns. He saw to it that special food was brought to her, as well as her own linen and towels. By the time the doctor began to talk of discharging her, she dreaded leaving the hospital. She had never felt so loved and protected as she had during these last three months. And for the first time ever, Jacob really seemed to need her.

  It was enough to make her believe in miracles…

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  DURING THE MOST CRITICAL time in history, when the civilized world was being threatened with Fascism, Doris’ life seemed to be the most secure. Henry’s practice was at its best, allowing him to support his family in a most comfortable lifestyle. They lived in a lovely home, entertained graciously. Doris’ life appeared to have a sense of permanence and security. Still, when it came to buying things for herself, she thought twice before indulging herself…even old habits died hard. She continued to look for bargains, watched the sales. To others, though, she was more than generous. One of the joys of her life was indulging her children. Although she was not able to give them great luxuries, she was inclined to look the other way when the price of a cashmere sweater, or a Schwinn bicycle for Chanukah, was more than she knew she should have spent.