No Time for Tears (35 page)

The next morning as she began to dress, nausea overcame her. She sat on the edge of the bed until it passed. Good God, that was all she needed, to get sick. That was
out of the question
, sick she wasn’t going to be….

She’d no sooner sat down at her worktable when the nausea started again, but this time she could not will it away. Rushing toward the washroom she held onto the toilet seat and threw up. She was weak and perspiring when she returned.

Mr. Leibowitz looked up from his workbench, saw her, and went over to her. Putting his arm around her shoulders he said, “Chavala, you’re not feeling well, I want you to see Dr. Felcher.”

“No, I’m fine now—”

“I don’t think so. I noticed the last few days you’ve looked pale and sick.”

“I have a few problems …”She put her hand to her forehead. And then it started to spill out … “Mr. Leibowitz, I honestly don’t know what to do … about myself I don’t care but when you see your children so very—” She caught herself, how thoughtless, she should have bitten her tongue. Yetta Korn had told her about Mr. Leibowitz’s children.

“Well, first,” he said, “I think you should go to the doctor and see what’s wrong. You really don’t look well, Chavala.”

What a wonderful man. God knew, he had reason to be angry with her, instead he seemed only to be worried about her.

“I don’t feel so good, to tell you the truth, but I’m just a bit upset, things are still new—”

“I’m sure, but it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe he can give you a tonic for your nerves.”

She had lived through more than this without a tonic—Oh, God, the dizziness was back, and she cursed herself for not being able to conquer it. She held onto the table as perspiration broke out on her forehead.

“All right, Chavala, that’s enough. You’ll go see Dr. Felcher.”

Chavala nodded. “Maybe I should … how much will he charge me, do you think?”

“It wouldn’t be too much. Tell him Leibowitz sent you. Here, I’ll write down the address. It’s only three blocks away. …”

The examination was over and she now sat across from Dr. Felcher. From the look on his face she knew it was nothing. “I feel foolish now for coming, I knew it was my nerves—”

“It’s very possible, but the nausea and dizziness is caused by your pregnancy.”

Chavala stared at him in disbelief. Finding her voice she finally said, “That’s impossible. I … I … It’s just impossible.”

“Why?” asked Dr. Felcher.

“Because I have been separ—” Chavala stopped in midsentence. How could she have suspected this? Her periods had never been regular. Sometimes for two or three months she didn’t menstruate.

Maybe the doctor was wrong. No, he was
right.
… The night before she left they had made love, so why should this come as such a shock? But it did. Why now, for God’s sake? That was all she needed, a baby. “How …” She could scarcely get the words out “How far … when is the baby due?”

“You’re in your second month.”

Chavala sighed. “
Mazel tov
to me. Thank you for the good news, and how much do I owe you?”

It was three dollars because she worked for Leibowitz. Otherwise it would have been five.

She waited until after supper, when Chia and Reuven went to their room to do their homework, to tell Moishe the news.

“Well, Moishe, you’re going to be an uncle again.”

He looked at her in shock. “How can that be—?”

“Because married women get pregnant.”

“But you and Dovid have been …” He frowned at his own stupidity. “For how long?”

“About two months.”

“Well,
mazel tov
.”

“That’s what I said when I found out. You know, Moishe, I think God does have a plan. This child could be just what I need.”

Moishe nodded, thought, some good news … no husband, no money, they were barely getting by … “It’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

“Yes it is. Moishe. You see, it takes something like this to make a person come to a decision.”

“And?”

“Now I must make a better living.”

“And how will you do that?”

“I’m going to open one of those … what do they call them? … pawnshops.
That’s
how.”

“Chavala, what in the world do you know about a pawnshop?”

“Nothing. Which was what I knew about most things, it seems. But I also know I can learn … I can’t go on stringing pearls for the rest of my life. I never really intended to, but the change came sooner than I’d thought … You know, Moishe, I truly believe the child is a double blessing.”

“I’m very glad you’re happy.”

“I know … now if you’ll excuse me, I have to write a letter.”

Dear Dovid … Dear Dovid what? Suddenly, and to her surprise, she didn’t know quite how to say it

She started again.

Dearest Dovid,

A wonderful thing has happened. My joy is beyond words. I know you will be as thrilled as I am. We’re going to have a baby.

She could well imagine how thrilled Dovid would be. His wife was on another planet and he was going to be the proud father of a child he wouldn’t see in God knew how long. What kind of a letter was that?

She pressed on …

When I heard the news I could hardly wait to share it with you. Thank God for this blessing. Please be happy, Dovid …

She meant that, but also knew it sounded empty, too casual.

Chavala tore up the letter. It was too unfair to use this to try to get him to come to her. Be honest, Chavala…

Dearest Dovid,

I know this will come as a surprise to you, as it did to me, but I am two months pregnant At first I was shocked, but now I feel truly a great sense of joy. This child is very special. For me, it’s as though it has bound us closer together. I can’t quite explain my feelings, but somehow I know this is a new beginning. In many ways … I’m going to open a little store. I feel hopeful about the future for all of us.

I pray that you are happy in what you’re doing, and above all I pray you stay well.

Your loving wife,

Chavala

Dovid received the news with mixed feelings. Another child … That was wonderful. But it also was a reminder of their situation, which he hated … once again he argued with himself for not being able to bend more, and felt resentment at Chavala for the same reason. But he’d gone over and over all this, the reasons, the rationalizations, a million times. And still he couldn’t accept it.

He shook his head, and wrote Chavala how happy he was about the child, that things were going fine in Palestine. Everybody sent their love. He missed her with a terrible ache … What more could he say? Except what was most in his heart, as it was in hers … I want you here, I want us to be together … I will do anything … Unwritten words of a man to his wife who would have his baby a million miles away.

“Well, Mr. Leibowitz,” Chavala said the next morning, “I didn’t need a tonic for my nerves. What I’ve got is a tonic. I’m going to have a baby.”

He frowned, then quickly smiled. Children, after all, were a blessing, weren’t they? “
Mazel tov
.”

“Thank you, that’s what I said to myself when I heard the good news. Now, Mr. Leibowitz, as much as I hate to leave … well, this changes things for me. I
must
make a better living.”

“Of course, so what will you do?”

“Open a pawnshop.”

“A pawnshop? Chavala, what do you know from a pawnshop? That’s a very complicated business and a very dangerous one—”

“I’m not unacquainted with danger, Mr. Leibowitz. As for complicated … from that I know too.”

“But Chavala, you don’t understand. What do you think, you put up a sign, open the door and you make money?”

“I think I have to start.”

“Chavala, you’re a sensible young woman. Listen to me, you don’t know a thing about jewelry. How will you know what a thing is worth?”

„I’ll learn.”

“What will you learn with? It takes money to open a—”

“I have some money.”

Mr. Leibowitz stood up. Chavala had money?

Reading his expression she said, “I have some money. Wait, Mr. Leibowitz, I’ll be right back.”

Going to the washroom, Chavala unpinned the pouch from her camisole and brought it back. “Could we go into your private office?”

He nodded, then his eyes opened wide as Chavala emptied the contents onto a piece of white jeweler’s paper.

He looked from the tiny stones to Chavala. Knowing Chavala, even for a short time, he would never question that they were stolen, but how had she come to this? He decided it wasn’t his business. “So you want an appraisal?”

“Yes … I want to sell them.”

Taking up the loupe, he examined each one. When he finished he said, “The lot is worth about twelve hundred dollars.”

“I’ll take it.”

“I didn’t say I was buying,” he said suddenly.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t need any more small stuff.”

“Well, if you don’t need it, you don’t need it.”

Chavala carefully put the contents back into the pouch.

“Wait, Chavala, I’ll try to sell them for you.”

“Mr. Leibowitz, you have been very kind to me, and I’m grateful, but I want to sell them as soon as possible.”

“To be in a hurry can cost money.”

“And to be lazy, or late, can also cost money. There’s a store on Mott Street I saw. An old pawnshop that’s empty. I want to buy it.”

“So someone else is grabbing it?”

“Who knows? Maybe not, but I’ll tell you, Mr. Leibowitz, life has taught me if you don’t do something when you feel it’s right, sometimes it gets too late, so I don’t like to wait.”

He truly admired Chavala’s spirit, and was so touched by her courage he said, adjusting his
yarmulke
, “How much is the rent?”

“Fifty dollars a month. The fixtures are already there. It even has a safe.”

“All right. I’ll loan you five hundred dollars to start the business. You leave the stuff with me. I’ll get you more than if you sell to the
gonuvim
.”

“I’ll never forget your kindness, Mr. Leibowitz.” And she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

Pleased, he said, “In this world you have to help. It’s the real pleasure. Now buy a hundred dollars’ worth of musical instruments. I’ll tell my friend Goldstein to give you a good buy.”

“Why do I need instruments?”

“So you’ll have something to sell, and, Chavala, be very careful how much you lend. If you have any doubts, better to do nothing. I’ll teach you as much as I can.
Mazel tov
.”

That night she could hardly wait to write to her sisters.

As she wrote, she also thought about Dvora’s unhappy situation, but then she consoled herself with the thought that no matter how little she earned, a part of that would be sent to Dvora, who didn’t even have a decent pair of shoes.

Putting down the pen, she looked again at the recent pictures she’d received from Palestine. Dvora and her husband, Ari, were standing with their son and daughter in the mud. In the background was the tent they lived in. It looked just like an army barracks. One large tent housed the kitchen and dining room, and she counted, as she had before, ten other tents surrounding it. Still, Dvora and Ari were smiling … but Chavala wasn’t fooled, she knew what they were going through. She remembered too well the Galilee … this was hardly better. In the winter they would live with the wind howling and the rain leaving a river of mud, and in summer they would almost die from the heat. She almost wished that they hadn’t sent the picture … Dvora had changed from that vibrant young girl who had gone off that summer to the training farm into a woman whose face was etched with the hardships and rigors of their struggles to survive. Her weather-beaten face was wrinkled before its time. Surely Dvora looked too old for her twenty-five years … And Ari. When he’d come home from the war he too was greatly changed, not only in his body but in his spirit too. When he’d first come from America, from New Jersey, he was a fired-up pioneer, full of excitement and dedication. His willingness to sacrifice the good life of America was no sacrifice for him. He had the chance to change a world in which all people were distinctly
not
created equal, did not have equal opportunity. He and his fellows … and then his wife … shared a bold dream of a society where everybody worked for the common good of the community. When he got back from the war they settled in Arazim, a kibbutz in the Jordan Valley, that provided the kind of challenge he’d come all this way in search of. But he soon discovered that there was no such thing as Utopia … even in Palestine. Here too, in spite of many good things, there was a subtle ruling class, a hierarchy competing for control of the inner workings of the kibbutz. Human nature, it seemed, was human nature. Also, maybe because of the war, he could no longer tolerate the strict discipline, owning nothing for himself and his family. The land still pulled him, but he felt he also had to own a part of himself. He wanted to
see
what he produced with his hands and live in a hut built by his own labor.

The founders of Arazim disapproved.

“Have we done our work here so that now we can sit back like land barons? You talk of private ownership. Being individuals … We have invested our lives to claim this land, and here we shall build roots for the future of our children …”

Along with twenty others, Ari, Dvora and their five-year-old Zvi moved on. They settled in the Galilee, east of Jordan, a wilderness of marshes, rock-strewn and malaria-ridden swamps, but it fired the imagination and filled them with greater inspiration. The Moshav was divided into equal parcels and cultivated by individual members. They shared marketing and water. A person was recompensed according to his labor. While the land was being cultivated the settlers received a daily wage from the JNF, scarcely enough to live on, but their faith in the future kept them going.

They told Chavala this in letters, but she knew, or felt, much of it was a brave front. Their hardships were so much greater than hers … they
must
be suffering…

Raizel was expecting her fourth child, and Chavala hated to think of her and her children living out their lives in the desperate poverty of Mea Shearim. It was unthinkable, and it wouldn’t be so … not if Chavala had to beg, borrow, steal, or all three …