Jacob's Way (32 page)

At supper time he ate but little, and shortly after that he said, “I think I will go to bed.”

“Good night, Jacob,” Sam said quickly. “I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

He undressed quickly and went to bed. As always, he tried to pray as he lay awake on his pillow, but thoughts of Isaiah 53 kept coming back to him. He had memorized it by this time, for he had an excellent memory, and the words kept coming back to him:
He hath no form nor comeliness—he is despised and rejected of men—surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrow—he was wounded for our transgression
—over and over again the words seemed to come until Jacob grew almost distraught. He simply could not get the matter of Jesus Christ out of his mind.

For a long time he lay there tossing and turning, but never did he fall into a sound sleep. Finally after two hours of restlessness, he threw the cover back and knelt beside his bed and began to pray. “Oh, God,” he whispered, “please, speak to me. You know I want to do your will. I just don't know what it is.” He hesitated for a moment and then prayed the prayer that he had tried not to pray for the past weeks. “If Jesus Christ is the Messiah, let me know it.”

For a long moment he knelt there as if expecting God to speak audibly—but nothing happened. He remembered Hilda saying that after she had prayed nothing had seemed to happen. Again and again he lifted his voice, not loudly but in an agonized whisper. Finally he thought of Hilda's simple prayer, and pressing his face into the cover of his bed as he knelt there, he began to weep. Finally in a broken voice, he said, “Oh, God, I open my heart to you. I cry out to you, Jesus. Help me, for I put my trust in you.”

Over and over again he prayed this prayer. He remained on his knees until they ached and then went numb. Repeatedly he called upon God, confessed that he was a sinner, and asked that he find peace. And over and over again he called upon Jesus.

Finally, weary in body and exhausted in mind, he simply slumped there half asleep, totally enervated. But as he lay there something happened. He could never explain it afterwards, but he remembered what Hilda had told him—that she had known God was in her by the peace that came into her spirit.

Jacob Dimitri heard no voice, but he somehow, for the first time in his life, knew with an absolute certainty that God was pleased with him! He knelt there simply letting this assurance grow, and he knew without any doubt whatsoever that something had taken place that would change his entire life.

Getting to his feet slowly, for his limbs were aching, he fell into bed and covered himself with a quilt. He lay there expecting the peace to go away, but it did not. He began to praise the Lord and to thank him for his goodness. And as the peace soaked into his spirit, he smiled and went to sleep as if he were a little child.

Part Three

Twenty-Three

R
eisa returned from their fourth trip bubbling over with enthusiasm. They had sold all the gold rings on credit and much of the rest of their merchandise. They celebrated a victory dinner that night with Phineas trying his hand at some Jewish cooking. Reisa had taught him very well, and he served them
k'nishes
, Jacob's favorite dish, consisting of baked dumplings filled with meat and liver. He had also tried his hand at what Reisa called
kugel
but was simply a bread pudding with raisins.

Jacob, more excited than Reisa had seen him, could not say enough to Reisa and the two men. He seemed almost as happy, if not happier, than Reisa herself.

The following day Reisa simply relaxed. She did take some time to make lists of merchandise and supplies for their next venture out with the wagon, but mostly she spent time with her grandfather, talking or simply sitting together. It pleased her that Jacob looked much better than usual.

Late that afternoon she mentioned this to Sam. “Don't you think Grandfather looks better?”

“He sure does. He's eatin' better, and he sure could use a few pounds.”

“I haven't seen him so relaxed and happy in a long time. He was worried about money, and now he's relieved that our peddling has turned out so well.”

“I don't reckon that's it.”

“You don't?”

“No, I don't.”

“Well, what do you think it is?”

“I don't think it's money,” Sam replied slowly. The two were sitting in the kitchen as Reisa peeled potatoes. Sam, having only one arm, was not much good at this, but he was good at talking. Handing her a potato, he said thoughtfully, “If money would make people happy, there wouldn't never be no miserable rich people. And you know that ain't so, Reisa.”

“No, it's not.”

“And if it took money to be happy, you'd never see anybody that was poor with any spirit about them. But that ain't so either, is it?”

“No, Sam. You're right about that.”

“So I don't think it's the good luck you've had with your trips and your sellin'. As a matter of fact, I think that was all God's doin'.”

“You think
everything
is God's doing.”

“Why, certain I do! Ain't nobody ever gonna convince me no different, neither.” Sam paused to take a bite out of one of the peeled potatoes. Reisa clucked her tongue, took the potato, and carved out the bite. He grinned for a moment, then became more serious. “No. I figure your granddad's got somethin' a lot more than a little cash to make him happy. I think he's got his ducks all in a row with God.”

As usual, Reisa was confused by the many idioms of Sam Hall. “Got his ducks in a row?” she said. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, it's just an old sayin'. It means everything's all been arranged right, and somehow I think your granddad's gettin' right with God.”

Reisa continued slowly peeling a long strip that reached the floor. Finally she looked up to fix her eyes on Sam. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, I've allus noticed what a heavy burden he's had on him ever since you two come here. Now it's like that burden's been done lifted off. And the only one I know that can really do that is Jesus.”

“Oh, come, Sam! There are people who are happy without Jesus.”

“I'll not argue that with you, but you know somethin'? I found out there's a big difference between joy and happiness.”

“What sort of difference? I thought it was the same.”

“Nope. The Bible says the fruit of the Spirit is joy. It's somethin' God gives. Now you take happiness. As long as everything's goin' all right, we got plenty to eat, no big problems on the horizon, why, we're happy. But what happens if you lose some of that and bad times strike? Tell me that.”

“Well, we're not happy anymore.”

“Exactly right! But the joy of the Lord ain't like that, Reisa. It comes from the Lord, and it's downright permanent. So when we got the joy that God gives us, even if somethin' terrible happens, that don't have nothin' to do with the joy we feel. As a matter of fact, I think somebody can be unhappy and have lots of joy. That is, he can be plumb disheartened about losin' his arm or somethin' like that, but deep down he knows it's all right.”

Reisa continued peeling potatoes, and finally Sam got up to get firewood for the stove. He paused at the door to make one final remark. “I think your grandpa looks an awful lot like a fella that's done met up with Jesus. He's the only one that can give a feller bone-deep joy!”

The following day, Reisa went into Richmond to buy supplies from the wholesalers. The first thing she did, however, was to make a deposit at the bank. Mr. Coats was so happy to see her he came over and took her deposit personally, saying, “I want to congratulate you on your venture, Miss Dimitri, and I'm sure you'll have many more good times ahead.”

After she left the bank, Reisa went to see several wholesalers and found them to be most helpful. All of them were encouraging and interested in her venture. One of them remarked, “You know, Miss Dimitri, Ed Stevens who runs the general store isn't too happy about what you're doing—but Ed's so tight he'd steal flies from a dead spider!”

Reisa laughed out loud, for this was such an odd way of putting it. “I'll try not to put Mr. Stevens out of business.”

She finished her business and found Sam waiting. “Sam, will you go by and pick up the merchandise I've bought? Then come to the Elite Cafe. I'm going to get some tea and something sweet. Come in when you're done, and I'll buy you something.”

Sam agreed, and Reisa went to the Elite Cafe. As she walked in, the manager greeted her. At once she saw Marianne Driver sitting at the same table where they had lunched. Marianne spotted her and motioned her over. “How nice to see you, Reisa. Please join me.”

“I was going to write you a letter,” Reisa said as she took a chair, “but now I won't have to.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a checkbook. “I can make a payment on the loan that you gave me.”

“Oh, not now,” Marianne said quickly. “Business will fluctuate. It's getting to be winter time, and you may have some lean months ahead. Don't even talk about paying me back for at least six months.”

Reisa protested, but Marianne would have it no other way. Finally Marianne ordered, and as she drank the tea and ate the sweet roll, Marianne asked her about Ben.

“He's so wonderful, going with Dov and me! No one else can handle Samson and Delilah as well.”

“I think those are lovely names. Which one is the mean one?”

“They're both just awful! They'd run away in a minute, but Ben can jerk them up short. Dov is learning to handle them, too. He just goes and gets one of their ears and twists, and they cry like babies. It's enough to make you laugh. They'd bite me anytime if they got a chance.”

“Then you let Dov and Ben take care of them.” Marianne took a sip of tea, then asked quietly, “How is Ben doing?”

Reisa knew instantly what Marianne meant. “Not very well, I'm afraid. Oh, he seems to be content enough at times. He enjoys it when Phineas gets his fiddle out, and they sing songs they sang at the war. But he's not happy. I wish,” she said wistfully, “I could do something to help him.”

“You
have
done something. You saved his life, and he thinks a great deal of you, I'm sure.” Reisa lowered her head.

“You think a lot of him, don't you, Reisa?” Marianne asked softly.

The question took Reisa aback. She could not think for a few moments of how to answer, and finally simply nodded. “Yes, Marianne. I like him very much.”

“Well, there have been a lot of prayers sent up for that son of ours. And I've got good news.”

“Good news? What's that?”

“My daughter Pru and her family are coming to see us.”

“Pru? That's a funny name.”

“Well, it's short for Prudence, but everyone calls her Pru. She's married to Martin Rogers, a fine man, a doctor. They have three beautiful boys.”

“I remember—Ben told me about them.”

“They get down to Richmond at least twice a year. John and I have been urging them to move back. Martin could have a wonderful practice here. He wouldn't make as much money, but we'd be near the grandchildren, and I think children need their grandparents.”

“I'll agree with that. My grandfather's all I have. When will they come?”

“They're not sure, but when they do come, you can just know Pru will come hunting Ben up. The two of them were always closer to each other than to anybody else. Matt was always so serious.”

“That was your older son who died in the war?”

“Yes. There's not a day gone by, Reisa, that I don't think about him. But he was very different from Ben.” Marianne's eyes grew thoughtful as she continued. “We always knew that if there was any mischief, it would be either Ben or Pru. Usually both of them. Pru was one year older, but they were much more like brothers than brother and sister.”

“I hope she'll visit Ben,” Reisa said. “I know he gets lonely for his family.” She wanted to say more about John Driver, but she knew that it would be out of place. “We'll be leaving soon. I'd hate for Ben to miss her.”

“As soon as she comes, I'll get word to you.”

That evening when Reisa got home, she went to Ben at once. “I have good news for you. Your sister is coming to see you.”

“Pru? How do you know that?”

Reisa admitted, “I ran into your mother when I was in town today. She told me.”

“I'll be glad to see her. We were always close.”

Reisa studied Ben's face, glad to see the good effect the news had on him. She thought again what a shame it was that he had to wear an eye patch. Now that he was filling out, there was a lean handsomeness to him. The patch gave him a rakish look, and she grieved over it. He had told her once that it was a good thing it was his right eye. When she had asked why, he had answered, “Because I'm left-handed. I use my left eye to sight a rifle with. So even after I lost my eye, I stayed with my outfit. I couldn't have done that if it had been my left eye.”

The two were interrupted by Sam, who stuck his head out the door and said, “Come and get it before we throw it out.”

The meal was excellent, and afterwards Phineas got his fiddle down and played for a long time. Sam whispered to Reisa, “He hasn't played like that in a coon's age. You folks are good for him.”

“I feel like we're imposing, Sam.”

“Not a'tall! Why, we're all just one big family here now.”

“What a nice thing to say!”

Later on, just as Reisa was getting ready for bed, a knock sounded at her door. She went at once to open it and found Jacob there. “What is it,
Zaideh?
”

“I must talk with you, Reisa.”

This had a serious sound to it, and Reisa said at once, “Come in. Sit down on the chair, and I'll sit on the bed.”

The two could still hear the voices of Phineas and Sam downstairs. They were arguing about one of the battles in the war—one of those interminable arguments that never got settled. “What is it,
Zaideh?
You've been feeling well lately, haven't you?”

“Better than you might believe.”

A smile touched his lips, and Reisa felt relieved, but she still asked, “Is anything wrong?”

“I don't know whether you'll think so.”

“Why, anything that pleases you pleases me. What is it?” she asked.

Jacob's eyes were bright, Reisa saw, and she could not imagine what he was going to say.

“I have come to believe, my dear Reisa, that Jesus Christ is the Messiah.”

Reisa stared at her grandfather. For one wild moment she thought he was joking—but he would never joke about a thing like this! “Why,
Zaideh
, that can't be!”