No Time for Tears (43 page)

Which was the same question she had asked Mr. Leibowitz. He hadn’t exactly sent her to Hammerstein’s the way she said. She’d asked, “How can you make money in jewelry
without
owning a retail store?”

“Well, for you it’s not, I want to tell you that right away, but a man can take on a line, go on the road and make a good living. They pay five percent on gross sales.”

“So, if I sold twenty thousand dollars’ worth, I’d get one thousand dollars?”

“Well, not you, Chavala, but a salesman—”

“Why
not
me, Mr. Leibowitz?”

Her even considering it was so out of the question that Mr. Leibowitz could only shrug.

“Why are you so shocked? Just because I’m not a man?”

He nodded, mumbled, “Yes … I suppose that’s what I mean … Chavala, a woman does not go on the road with a line. It’s not for a woman,
believe
me.”

Chavala smiled. “You know, Mr. Leibowitz, we Jews had a general once,
her
name was Deborah, and I bet she didn’t even go to college, let alone on the road.”

Mr. Leibowitz had to smile back.

“Listen, I read the newspapers, not just Yiddish, but the
New York Times.
I read about a lady who’s helping women plan their families, not get worn out by so many kids they all starve. And also about one woman being responsible for having no more whiskey in this country … You know, Prohibition, it’s called. Well, if those women could do that, then certainly I can take a line.”

The smile froze. “This is a different story, they didn’t have to
shlep
a case of merchandise from one city to another—”

“True. One, however, did
shlep
an ax.” She laughed. “Besides, I figure there are enough stores right here in New York so I won’t have to travel. Now, Mr. Leibowitz, as my dear friend, please tell me who would give me a line.”

He shook his head. If Chavala said she wanted a line, nothing would stop her. “All right, already, you’ll go see Hammerstein. Maybe … maybe he would listen to you.” But he devoutly hoped not. For her own good.

“Mr. Leibowitz, how can I thank you? And please come to dinner tonight…”

Now it was Moishe saying, “A woman salesman? I don’t understand, Chavala—”

“Listen, Moishe, I can sell as good as any man. I know it…”

“That’s not the point. A woman shouldn’t travel alone, and besides, what will you do with the baby?”

“I’ll answer the first. I wouldn’t travel, only at most to upstate New York, and mostly right around Manhattan here. As for the baby, thank God he’s getting along fine, staying the days with Mrs. Zuckerman. I’ll still pick him up in the evening, like I do now.”

Moishe, who understood what it was to be outgunned, shrugged and said, “I can’t stop you. God help you and good luck.”

“Thank you, Moishe, you’ll see. And soon well be able to open a store.”

Chavala had her hair bobbed, which had become the style, and she carefully watched how the ladies in Manhattan were dressed when they walked on Fifth Avenue. She shopped for a nice matching skirt and jacket at Gimbels, navy blue, and a white silk blouse. She bought navy shoes and a bag, then went to the cosmetic department and for the first time bought lipstick.

Not only was Moishe shocked by the transformation in Chavala, but Mr. Hammerstein was speechless. She was beautiful. If he had had any misgivings about Chavala as a salesman he surely didn’t now. Besides, he’d been won over by her charm, her smarts, her ability to make him feel her confidence that she could sell anything she put her mind to. But
this
he hadn’t bargained for.

And Chavala proved she could do just what she said. She didn’t worry about failure. She wouldn’t let herself even consider it. And fear … ? She’d killed two men so her family could survive. She should worry about being turned down by a buyer, about looks or questions? It made no difference how long she had to wait to see the buyer, she waited. She was never coy, she didn’t use womanly devices to sell, except to try to look good. Sure, at first there was some resistance because she was a woman, but it could be handled. She obviously was a curiosity. Well, the little white lies she told didn’t damage the quality of her merchandise. How long had she been in the business? … All her life. She had been born a jeweler. Came from a long line of European jewelers. Cut her eyeteeth on her mother’s diamond bracelet, and so forth.

After the initial resistance was worn down the buyers even began to take
her
to lunch. Lunch? Fine. Dinner was politely declined … she was tired, it was a difficult life for a woman but also so rewarding … look at the people one met … And the commission checks grew and grew.

Until late one afternoon, after having returned to Mr. Hammerstein’s with her case, she felt his warm breath on her face and his thick arms around her waist.

Well, well … it seemed Mr. Leibowitz wasn’t all wrong. Being a woman did have its disadvantages in a man’s world. Or maybe to some its advantages … she may have come from the
shtetl
but she knew a woman could make more money on her back than she could with commissions. But
not
her.

She disengaged herself from Mr. Hammerstein, looked at his flushed face, turned away from his uneven breathing. Grinding out the words she said, “You’re a fool, Mr. Hammerstein. You’re low. Don’t think I’m flattered, and don’t for a minute think I’m afraid. I’m just disgusted and angry. Take a look at the pictures of your grandchildren. I’ll wait outside for my check.” She walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Yes, she was offended by Mr. Hammerstein, but far more, she was angry that her growing success with his line was so short-lived. Yes … she could probably get another line, but then what? There were more Mr. Hammersteins out there … she was sure they came in all different sizes and shapes. So Chavala went back to the pawnshop, but said nothing to Moishe about her real reasons

“But you seemed so happy,” Moishe said as he watched Chavala look through the loupe at a small ring they had bought this morning.

“I was, but you can’t set real money that way … and besides, I like being my own boss.” And not being Miss Available, she added to herself.

“To tell the truth, I’m happy you’re back. I never liked the idea of your
shlepping
around all that jewelry. A woman has to be more careful than a man—”

“You’re right, Moishe … Listen, it’s almost time to close. Pull down the shade and lock the door.”

Chavala obviously had something on her mind. She never closed the store on time, often stayed open for an hour or two beyond closing time.

Sitting in the back room Chavala said, “You know, Moishe, I’ve been thinking…”

When she started a sentence with that opening, and the faraway look in her eyes, Moishe knew for sure Chavala had something coming … “All right, what have you been thinking?”

“That we now
must
open up a jewelry store.”

“That’s a very good idea, but it seems to me you once said it took an inventory we still don’t have. Besides, we make a living here—”

“I didn’t give up my husband to
make a living
… I came here to make a great deal of money. I have my reasons …”

Moishe laughed. “I wouldn’t be unhappy if you made a million dollars, but tell me, what do you plan on using for capital?”

“My brains. Plus take some chances. We both have done that before.” Chavala swallowed hard. “I can get stock—”

“Someone will give it to you on consignment?”

“Who? Don’t be foolish, and I wouldn’t ask Mr. Leibowitz. Besides, the insurance alone would be so high we couldn’t afford it.”

“Well, then?”

Chavala folded her arms across her chest and took a deep breath, exhaled. “I found a …a fence … his last name I don’t know and I don’t care. But I spoke to this …
landsman,
that’s what he’s called, and after a while he agreed to sell to me …”

Moishe just sat and stared.

Chavala hurried on. “Would you believe it, Moishe, he looks like a
tzaddik
, although I know better, but still you would be surmised how nice he seems—”

Moishe found his voice and all but yelled, “We could go to jail.”

“I know … and I’m not proud to have to do this … or too proud to do it… but it’s the only way, Moishe—”

“Why is it the only way? Where are you running, who’s chasing you?”

“
Time, that’s who.
I’m over thirty and we have a
family
in Palestine, and they need help. I’m not going to tell you if you don’t know what bad times they’re having. Listen to me, Moishe, we could be here for twenty years and in twenty years I’ll be over fifty and then it will be too late. You think I’m going to stand by and see my family starving? Right now I have two children with no future, and Chia has to go to college, and what about you? If you found a girl and wanted to get married, how would you support her? It’s not
kosher
, and I don’t want to do this, but honestly believe I
must
—”

“I see, you have it all figured out … well, I don’t want any part of it.”

Chavala sighed. Moishe the firebrand … the lover of his people … the idealistic warrior … That was yesterday … She was sorry she had even told him, she should have gone ahead on her own. “That’s up to you, Moishe. It’s my decision and my risk. I’m going to take it.”

He shook his head, got up and paced the floor. “How did you find this … this
tzaddik?
”

“You ask enough questions, you find answers. Besides, you don’t really want to hear.”

Moishe stopped pacing and looked at his sister. “You mean you would actually try to take this on by yourself …”

“I didn’t have a policeman with me when I
shlepped
the jewelry. I could have been robbed. What’s the use of talking, Moishe, I’ve made up my mind. It’s the only way I can see open to me … It wouldn’t be forever, only to get a new start.”

Moishe knew he was out of his mind to say yes, but how could he let Chavala deal with the … the underworld by herself? Finally, not finding any alternative, he said, “All right … I’m against it, but—”

“I’m
for
it? Of course not, but I’ve got to do it.” She laid out the plan. “You’ll take care of the pawnshop and I’ll run the new store.”

Moishe merely nodded.

That evening when they went to pick up the baby Joshua, Chavala held the child tightly. He was, incredibly, almost a year old, and what a beautiful child. Why not? He still was the image of his father … When he held out his arms to her she wondered if she deserved such a blessing. That he even recognized her made her grateful … in all the months she’d been able to spend not more than a few hours a day, in the early morning and evening and Saturdays. Maybe love was time …

Maybe … but she still had feelings of guilt. She thought back to the children’s house in the Galilee when she frantically picked Chia up and ran back to her cubbyhole and waited for Dovid to come … no child of hers was going to be raised without its parents, she’d told herself. Well, times changed, and sometimes you had to make sacrifices. So what was perfect in this life … ?

This morning she was especially happy it was Saturday. All the businesses closed down on the Sabbath. And if they opened it was only after sundown. No one defied tradition on the lower East Side. So today forget the bookkeeping, they were going to have an outing.

“Chia, Moishe, we’re going to have a day in the park,” she announced as though a great event were going to take place. And for them it was.

Chia was thrilled. She never complained, but she missed the close relationships they’d once had. Since her older sister had become so involved in her affairs there were less and less family meals, fewer and fewer chances to talk over her personal life with Chavala who, after all, was really more a mother than a sister. And she badly missed Reuven, never mind how they’d disagreed when he’d been here.

As for Chavala, she’d almost forgotten how lovely it could be to spend a whole day with the family. Dressing the baby, she talked to herself, but at him … “My darling little Joshua, you don’t think for a moment that I don’t love you. I hope not God knows … not to mention some others … I’m not the best mother in the world, but if loving you counts … well, you can count on me. Listen, I’m trying to do the best I can. What can I do? I know I’m missing a lot, so are you, but you have a crazy mother. So while you’re still this young, maybe it won’t matter all that much? What do you think, Joshua?” She smiled at him. He cooed and laughed back. Almost as though he understood.

It was 1922. Chavala found a store she could barely afford on the fringes of Harlem. A start. She bought the least expensive showcases she could find, which she and Chia painted green. She padded the inside of the cases with green felt. When the store was scrubbed clean and refurbished, she wasn’t too unhappy. Park Avenue it wasn’t, but better than the pawnshop it certainly was.

Through Mr. Leibowitz, she found an old jeweler who removed diamonds from their mountings, then melted down the metal. One day, Chavala told herself when she went to pick up her merchandise, she would have a place like his. On Fifth or Park Avenue … Why not? If one had a dream, at least make it a big one.

But she set aside the dreams for another time. Soon her low prices attracted the people … she tried not to look too closely at them … who came by their money she didn’t want to know how. They paid cash, no receipts and no returns. If some Jim Dandy wanted a five-carat stickpin, Chavala spoke to the
landsman
, and one way or another he made it possible for her to satisfy her customer. The ones she felt the most antagonism toward were the Jewish pimps, prostitutes and gangsters. What the
goyim
did, she didn’t care so much, but her own … In spite of the money she made from them, Chavala wished they would take their business elsewhere. Their money seemed especially tainted, and she felt it tainted her. At other times she almost welcomed their business as a kind of poetic justice, instructing herself that she was a fine one to put on holier-than-thou airs. Oh yes, she had her good reasons, but maybe they did too … Once she woke up in the middle of the night, startled out of a bad dream. A very bad dream. What would happen if she were found out? What kind of mother was she? What kind of a person would do what she was doing?