An Orphan's Tale

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An Orphan's Tale Page 20

by Jay Neugeboren


  Charlie saw that the car window was shattered, and he wasn’t surprised. Without Danny, he said to himself, his luck was gone.

  He opened the glove compartment and saw that the tsumin box had been taken. He drove off. If they didn’t melt it down, the police would be able to trace it easily enough, it was such an unusual item, but how would he explain having had it in his car? And what if Anita notified the New Jersey police and they sent a routine inquiry over the bridge? Charlie knew of several shops that specialized in Jewish ritual items, and one—on Mott Street—that dealt especially in silver and antiques.

  He met with the man from the city and listened to him talk about timetables on the factory construction. When the man asked him where his boy was, Charlie thought, Maybe it’s Danny who’s following me! Maybe he took the box.

  He walked around the neighborhood in which he’d been born and thought again how amazing it was—each store and building in the city was actually owned by somebody, and once a month each tenant had to pay rent to the owner. He had once thought that apartment building owners were the kings in real estate, but Max had taught him otherwise. Max rarely bought an old apartment house, unless it could be knocked down and a new one built. Land might increase in value, but there was no depreciation on land.

  In their declining years, Max had taught him, apartment houses were dumps of garbage: depreciation was nil, potential for proceeds of sale low, everything in need of repair and replacement. Cash flow was high and disappeared into maintenance.

  Charlie came to the building in which he’d been born, an aged red-brick structure six stories high, with fire escapes on the street side. He did not know which rooms inside the building had belonged to his mother and father. He knew none of the tenants in the building.

  He drove to Ocean Parkway, to Irving’s building. A moving van was parked in front. Inside the building the elevator door was open and the elevator itself was submerged halfway below floor level. Two men stood on top of the elevator cab, steadying an enormous purple couch on its end. They worked the elevator by its pulleys.

  He sat in Irving’s living room and told him the truth about his search for Danny, about the Home being closed, about the policeman, and about Danny’s name not being listed in the records of the Home. Irving assured Charlie that he had in fact seen Danny—at the game, at the funeral, and at Anita’s house. “He was strange, I thought,” Irving said. “He made me uncomfortable, and I usually like bright kids.”

  Irving’s wife pressed Charlie to stay for dinner, and when she did he realized that he had completely forgotten about football practice at the school. He had been in the subway at the time it would have started. He walked to the door and Irving stood with him, his arm in Charlie’s. He urged Charlie to call him more often—every day if he wanted to.

  They walked down the stairs into the lobby, their arms linked. Charlie asked Irving to call Anita and tell her he’d forgotten about practice but that she shouldn’t worry about him. Charlie told Irving that he shouldn’t worry either.

  “I never do,” Irving said. “Murray was the one I always worried about. You’ll live to be a hundred—everybody knows that.”

  “Me and you,” Charlie said.

  Irving patted his stomach. “I eat too much.”

  Charlie got into his car and Irving talked to him across the shattered window, without commenting on it. Irving laughed. “In all the books I teach it’s usually the son who goes off in search of a father, but with you things are opposite, aren’t they?” He made Charlie roll the broken window down and he reached in and took Charlie’s right hand in both of his. “You’re all right, Charlie. No matter what happened, we all love you, do you understand?”

  Charlie drove off and watched Irving, like a small child, lift an arm and wave good-bye by wiggling his fingers.

  When Charlie arrived at Dr. Fogel’s house the streetlights were already on, though the sky was not yet black. A sign was planted in the lawn, stating that the house was for sale. There was an envelope scotch-taped to the door, with his name on it.

  The note was printed, in block letters:

  DEAR CHAIM

  YOUR YOUNG FRIEND DANIEL GINSBERG TELEPHONED AND ASKED ME TO TELL YOU THAT HE IS IN GOOD HEALTH. YOU NEED NOT WORRY ABOUT HIM. AS FOR MYSELF I AM VISITING RELATIVES IN FAR ROCKAWAY FOR SEVERAL DAYS. WON’T YOU CALL ME NEXT WEEK SO THAT WE MAY TALK WITH EACH OTHER? YOU ARE VERY MUCH IN MY THOUGHTS THESE DAYS. HOW IS YOUR UNCLE SOL FEELING? HE DID NOT APPEAR WELL TO ME. PLEASE COME AND TALK WITH ME SOON.

  (DR.) ELIEZER FOGEL

  Going home, on the New Jersey side of the bridge, under the bright lights of a gas station, Charlie saw two beautiful girls standing next to suitcases, hitchhiking. They seemed to be about Sandy’s age. He slowed down, and the one closer to him smiled at him with such openness that he felt himself grow hard at once. He pulled to the side of the road, they waved at him with delight, picked up their suitcases, and then he panicked, pressed down full on the accelerator, and drove away.

  He had, slowing for them, he realized, been imagining them in his car, one with her thigh pressed against him, the other breathing on his neck from behind. The one next to him would have held the gun against his ribs. His shirt was drenched in sweat. In his imagination he saw the girls making him drive to a motel where they would have registered together, and where, having taken his money, they would have ordered him to strip off his clothes. Hey listen, he heard himself say. You got the wrong guy. I was for women’s liberation before there were women.

  He parked on the side of the road and closed his eyes. He considered going back and picking them up—to prove to himself how insane his thoughts were. They were probably as sweet as they looked, heading back for their prep schools or colleges after a weekend in the city visiting friends.

  In his rear-view mirror he saw a spinning red flasher moving upon him quickly. He sat up straight, wiped his face with his handkerchief. The red flasher went by—a tow truck hauling a smashed-up Cadillac. He moved his car back into traffic. There was no point in going back just to prove to himself that he could. They’d have been picked up by now anyway, he knew.

  When Charlie entered the house, Mr. and Mrs. Mittleman were sitting in the living room, watching home movies. He walked through, to the kitchen, to fix himself supper, but Mrs. Mittleman made him sit in the living room while she prepared a plate for him. She told him that he looked very hungry.

  On the screen in front of him he saw himself walking toward himself, growing larger. Danny was walking beside him. The boy looked younger than Charlie had remembered him being. Charlie’s head and shoulders now filled most of the screen. “I decided, with the boy here, that I should try to capture some of our life together on film,” Mr. Mittleman said. “Since we’re like a family.”

  The images on the screen were blurred. Then, in color, Charlie saw himself and Danny in the park, tossing a football to one another.

  Mr. Mittleman spoke to Charlie, his cigar between his teeth. “I thought you’d like to have a print of this so I made an extra one for later on,” he said, “so you can remember what things were like now when you two were young and happy together.”

  Seven

  WEDNESDAY

  I saw him again today for the 1st time in 40 days. He walked by me 3 times and didn’t see me. He walked 3 steps ahead of Dr. Fogel, knocking branches aside. Dr. Fogel looked very happy. He kept stopping and closing his eyes and breathing in the fresh air through his nostrils. He looked younger than he did since I remember him.

  What surprised me: how old Charlie looked in comparison! Steam came out of his mouth when he breathed and talked. He wore a blue wool hat pulled down over his ears like a Canadian lumberman and his black curls stuck out on his forehead. His eyes were moving fast, and he was excited by what he was seeing but I could still tell how much he had changed. He didn’t look like a young man anymore. I felt so bad for him that I wanted to cry out to him to take care of himself, but I stayed where I was on the ground, cove
red with leaves.

  I could see how much he missed me by the worry in his brow and this is what I thought: IF I CAN’T HAVE HIM THEN NOBODY ELSE WILL.

  I wanted to laugh out loud at that idea!

  I followed them from a long distance. Charlie had a rolled up map in his hand but I knew he was thinking of me and wondering whether or not I exist. These are the places he might guess he’d find me in: the deserted Home, Dr. Fogel’s house, the basement of Murray’s School, the woods around Anita’s house, the basement or empty apartment of 1 of Mr. Mittleman’s buildings, here on Dr. Fogel’s land.

  I couldn’t hear anything they said to each other and I liked it better that way. He must see that my plan worked even more successfully than I’d hoped for and that now I have no identity or existence at all. My fate is truly in his hands, if he wants me.

  While I followed them I had fun imagining myself telling him about what I’d thought and how I imagined the future. I know how scared he is of dying young. I saw myself telling him that nothing would happen to me if I murdered him because I didn’t exist. I would tell the judge and jury what I told myself, that if I couldn’t have him nobody else could. My defense would be this: How can you convict a boy who was so abandoned that even a Jewish orphanage tried to destroy him?

  They would ask me: Why did Charlie Sapistein take you in? And I would tell them that he wasn’t there to give an answer.

  An old joke that Sol told me: “Chutzpa” is when a boy murders his mother and father and asks for mercy from the court because he’s an orphan.

  What would Dr. Fogel and Sol feel toward one another if they met at Charlie’s funeral?

  They went to the area where the old cabins are and Charlie made a motion with his hand which showed he would level all of them. They looked into the cabin where I stayed last night but I leave no traces. I have everything I need in my sack and pockets: my Tephillin and Talis and prayer book and PIRKAY AVOS and money and an extra shirt and set of underwear and candy bars for energy and the package for Anita.

  I didn’t go into the clearing where the cabins are when they went inside for fear one of them would look out a window and see me. I sat on a stump and tried to imagine Dr. Fogel’s father and his settlement living here 50 years ago. There are no traces of their existence in any of the buildings. There are no books or carvings on walls or pieces of newspaper.

  After they left I walked into town and mailed the stopwatch to Anita. Then I went into a supermarket and bought food for supper. It’s more difficult being Kosher because I can’t eat meat and I have to cheek the canned foods and the packages to make sure they’re all right. I look for things with eggs in them, for protein. I eat a lot of cheese and canned mackerel and day-old bread.

  At night I take out the lantern I bought from under the cabin floor and light it and I’m alone. I’m hundreds of yards from any road so nobody can see the light through the woods. The lantern is a blue camping lantern with a gas cartridge and a piece of mesh nylon called a mantel which has phosphorous dust on it and gives off a strong white light for me to read by. I do no cooking because I don’t want the odors to attract animals. In the mornings I carry my garbage out to the road.

  What I believe: If he came once he’ll come again! If Dr. Fogel came with him that must mean Charlie started putting on Tephillin in the morning or praying. I have enough money for another 3 weeks, the way I live. The less I eat the smaller my stomach and intestines become and the less food I need to survive on. I looked at my reflection in a mirror in the supermarket and I’m thinner, but not that much to worry about myself.

  I look better than he does. I have lots of sayings saved up for him, for us to listen to together. Here’s one, to explain why it’s all right for his friends from the Home to treat him the way they do: “A man’s gifts make room for him.”

  A question to think about: If I knew the end of the world were coming tomorrow would I want to stay here alone or be with him?

  My answer now, when I’m alone: I would want to stay alone. But would my answer be the same if I didn’t see him come for me today and if I didn’t know he’ll be back?

  Things he could do with the land if he buys it from Dr. Fogel: sell it to the state or government for conservation. Build a planned community for people who want to flee the city. Sell it to an organization like a charity or religious group to get income for himself every year after 40. Make a deal with Mr. Mittleman and divide it into lots for subdevelopments.

  A better idea: Buy some expensive land near the property and build garden apartments so that this land’s value increases, and then sell this land!

  To tell Dr. Fogel: This is what the Rabbis taught: “God, the people of Israel, and the land of Israel are one.”

  I said Minchah in the afternoon and Maariv when the sun went down. I wash before I eat and after I eat. I say a prayer after I eat and after I go to the bathroom. Indoors I wear a Yamulka at all times. I put on my Tephillin in the mornings just in case Mr. Mittleman is right about my age.

  Will I ever know the truth about how old I really am?

  Will I ever stop wanting to know? Can any other human being understand how much it presses against my life for me to feel I’ll never never know! Even if someone should read this would that someone understand what I feel?

  Charlie would tell me not to worry about it. He’d want to protect me.

  What would he think if he knew I lied to him. I HAVE NO MOTHER AND NO MEMORY OF ANY MOTHER.

  I like sleeping on the wood floor. I sleep better without any kind of artificial heat. I sleep on top of the winter coat he bought for me which has an insulated lining with half of it on top of me.

  What I wonder about: If we really couldn’t be together and if I really meant what I said and if I crept up on him 1 night in his bed while he was sleeping and if his eyes opened at the last moment and were staring into my eyes, would I have the courage to do it?

  This is what I would say to him: In Hebrew my name means “God is my Judge.”

  THURSDAY

  It rained all day today and I stayed inside the cabin. I had to read standing up so I could look out the window in case I saw them coming, but they never came.

  I wrote a letter to Ephraim and told him what I imagined I would do to Charlie, but I tore it up when I was done.

  If Hannah knew I was here I bet she would run away and try to live with me, that’s how young and foolish she is.

  It was raining too hard to walk through the woods and get new food. I collected rainwater in an empty can. I kept thinking I was going to get hungrier, but I never did. I made a sandwich out of 2 pieces of bread, bits of apple, and peanuts.

  I was too worried to do a lot of reading or memorizing. I’m learning how to let my mind do nothing when it wants to.

  FRIDAY

  The rain ended in the middle of last night and I heard it stop and I never fell back to sleep. I started to walk out of the woods even before the sun came up and I was in town before the stores were open. I went into an all-night diner and ordered hot chocolate and toasted English muffins with jam. The odor of frying bacon and eggs and griddle cakes was VERY tempting. The eggs and griddle cakes would not be Kosher because they would be fried in the same pan and on the same griddle that was used for “Trayf.”

  A package store was open when I finished my hot chocolate and muffins and I went in and bought cheese, apples, grapes, a can of tuna fish, and a small head of lettuce. I have to be sure I don’t get weak. The man asked me if I wanted to work in his store after school and I said no. I didn’t like the way he looked at me and after I walked out I went around to the side and peered through the window to see if he was telephoning anyone but he wasn’t.

  I put on my Tephillin and prayed and then I had breakfast with myself. The food tasted wonderful. I asked God to forgive me for having the hot chocolate and muffins before I prayed, but I could justify that on the grounds of health. In the Jewish religion health comes before everything else! I smiled at my reasoning.r />
  I took a walk after breakfast through the woods and I found a small pond, about 80 feet wide and 30 feet across. I sat on a rock and this is the passage I decided to memorize: “IF YOU ARE ABOUT TO PLANT A TREE AND SOMEONE TELLS YOU THAT THE MESSIAH HAS COME, FINISH YOUR WORK AND THEN GO FORTH TO MEET THE MESSIAH.”

  The ground was wet everywhere, so I lay my coat across the rock and slept there, in the sun. When I woke up the wool fuzz was sticking to my lips from sweating and I remember I was scared for a second, not knowing where I was.

  Then I walked back, following the trail I’d made before by breaking branches and it was very strange, because just as I was thinking to myself that if he were to catch me unawares I would say to him, “Well hi Charlie, and how do you like your boy scout?” I saw him coming toward me, and behind him was Dr. Fogel…and behind Dr. Fogel was Mr. Mittleman puffing on a cigar!

  I was scared but I decided to take my chances and not move rather than attract attention by stirring up noises. I took 2 steps and pressed myself against a tree. God was with me! They veered off to the right, away from me.

  I waited and followed them. Mr. Mittleman looked funny, waddling behind. I thought of calling to him, “Hey Max—where’s your movie camera?” But I didn’t. I realized I never saw him in a coat before or outside at all. His face looked bloodless. He was even shorter than Dr. Fogel. He didn’t say anything to them.

  They looked at the clearing where the cabins were and I was afraid they would go into mine again even though I left it clean and bare, but they didn’t. They were gone before I had a chance to make a decision. I didn’t want Charlie to see me the 1st time with Mr. Mittleman there. But that was a mistake, not to show myself.

 

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