Portraits (19 page)

With happy tears Sara said, “Mama, this is Jacob and your grandchildren.”

Molly embraced Jacob warmly but he felt awkward. It wasn’t just the shame of accepting charity. He resented what this woman had done to Sara, leaving her so alone in the world. His mother had done things he could never completely forgive her for, but at least she hadn’t abandoned him for a lover. She had struggled to try to bring them together…Jacob picked up Doris in his arms and mumbled an introduction.

Molly noticed his stiffness and remembered the letter Sara had written to tell her she was getting married. She had described Jacob as “rather a complex person,” but to Molly he seemed cold and unfeeling. Well, he was Sara’s husband and this was no time to dwell on his dark nature.

Molly took Doris from Jacob’s arms and devoured the child with hugs and kisses, then took Rachel’s hand in hers and excitedly led the way out of the station to the jitney.

When they were seated on the bus, Rachel looked at her father and couldn’t understand why he wasn’t enjoying himself. Even mama was happy. She was laughing and crying and grandma was saying how happy she was that they were going to be living with her after all this time. She just wished that papa would smile. Rachel felt uncomfortable, as if this was something she was responsible for.

They got out of the jitney at Seventh Street and Rachel forgot the upsetting thoughts as they started to walk up strange new streets. They passed a church that didn’t look like anything she’d ever seen—not a
shul
. It had a big cross on top of a peaked roof, and there was a statue of some kind. The wooden houses, each with a flight of wooden stairs that led to the front door, looked just as odd to her. But the flowers were pretty and she knew the green patches in front of the houses were grass because she had played on grass in Central Park. Suddenly it all felt very strange to her. It was all so quiet and there was hardly anyone on the streets…But the queerest sight of all was grandma’s house. It wasn’t like the others at all. It was two stories and had two doors sort of next to each other. Mama said a family lived in the bottom part and grandma lived upstairs. But how come the two doors were on the same level?

Rachel’s confusion was cleared up after grandma unlocked the door. The stairs inside went up and up and up. Then they were in the hall with a wooden banister. It was so
big
and so was the parlor, as mama called it. Rachel especially loved the cupids that were painted on the round table and lamp. But best of all was the diningroom. In the center of the table was a cut-glass bowl with wax fruit. They didn’t look like wax…They looked real. She wanted to pick up the banana and bite into it. Then her eyes wandered to the china cabinet. Gosh, grandma must be rich, she hadn’t ever seen anything like it…it was filled with dishes standing up against the back with lots and lots of cups and saucers. Also little dolls, not the kind you could play with, mama said they were porcelain…She couldn’t believe her ears when she heard grandma say to mama she had practically stolen the diningroom set from an old widow. Her grandma stole! Well, grandma had said practically, but stealing was stealing. That’s what mama had said when she’d just taken Izzy Greenblatt’s ball. She could still feel the sting of mama’s hand on her bottom, even though it happened way back when she was four…

As mama set the table and grandma heated the food in the kitchen, Rachel noticed the hole in the linoleum, but she didn’t want anyone to feel bad so she didn’t say anything. Now she was watching grandma taking things out of the big brown wooden icebox. Grandma handed her a plate of chopped liver and another of kosher dills, and she took them into the diningroom and put the plates on the table.

Pretty soon everyone was eating and talking…everyone except papa…he was just eating.

That night, after she and Doris were in bed, Rachel said, “It’s kind of scary. It’s so quiet…”

There were no sounds from the El, no sirens, no pushcarts being rolled over the cobblestones…nothing.

Rachel asked again, “Don’t you feel funny, Doris?”

No answer. Doris was sound asleep.

The next week Jacob found a job working in the Chevrolet plant, but the great American dream had been slightly exaggerated by his mother-in-law. A job was easy to get, but the salary wasn’t that much more than he’d made in New York. Sara was so happy that the children were thriving, but he hated California. It wasn’t going to be easy being a Jew in Oakland, California. In New York he’d spent so much time surrounded by his own people and by reminders of his heritage that he’d
almost
taken it for granted. Here he was surrounded by
goyim
. He almost felt like a
goy
himself…

Rachel loved California at first. The only drawback was school. She was put in the second grade when she should have been in the third, and it embarrassed her because she was taller than the other children and a little older. Another thing that annoyed her was that mama made her come home for lunch when she wanted to eat at school like the other kids. She envied them their metal lunch boxes and peanut butter sandwiches, small bottles of milk and the graham crackers. But no, she had to bring Doris home…Take care of your sister, Rachel, you’re the oldest…Was it her fault she was the oldest? Why didn’t mama pick Doris up?

When she found out the reason—that mama was going to have a baby—Rachel was excited but she also felt vaguely uneasy. Somehow it embarrassed her and she warned Doris not to tell anyone in the neighborhood about mama. But Doris was so thrilled that she couldn’t keep such a secret. She was going to have a baby brother or sister—although she really hoped it would be a brother.

When Rachel found out Doris had broken her word she was furious. She stayed after school that day and played on the swings for a while, then she merely sat looking at the kids in the sandboxes or swinging on the metal rings. When the playground finally closed she wandered around the streets aimlessly, then stood in front of a church.

The doors were open and she could see colored people inside. She walked up to the door and listened to their rich voices as they sang. She was surprised by the handclapping and swaying—almost dancing—that accompanied their songs and by the occasional voice that rose above the others singing “Hallelujah.”

When Jacob came home, Sara was distraught about Rachel’s disappearance.

“What time does she usually get home?” Jacob asked.

“Just after two-thirty.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find her.”

He ran down Molly’s stairs, then up one street after another. Finally he saw Rachel framed in the doorway of the church.

“Rachel—”

When she turned and faced her father, her heart pounded. She really shouldn’t be here; these people were
goyim
. “Yes, papa…”

“Come, your mother is very upset.”

He wasn’t mad. “I’m sorry, papa…”

“All right, but from now on go straight home after school.”

She loved papa. Taking his hand she felt just the way she used to when she met him at the subway and they went to get the charlotte russe.

When Sara heard the front door open, her anxiety ended and her anger began. Rachel was genuinely sorry for having worried mama in her condition, but Sara took hold of her, pulled down her pants and spanked her hard. It didn’t stop until Jacob called out above Rachel’s cries, “Leave her alone…Do you hear me? Leave her alone, and don’t ever lay a hand on her again—”

Molly rushed out of the kitchen. “And don’t you ever shout at my child. Who do you think you are?”

Since they’d been living with Sara’s mother, it seemed they never had a word that Molly didn’t interfere with. She made insinuating remarks, reminding him of his responsibilities and saying how difficult it was to raise a family without any money. And Sara never contradicted her, never came to his defense against a mother who had all but abandoned her when she needed her most…

Jacob grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into a suitcase. He’d had enough.

Sara called out after him, but the front door slammed. She stood motionless and frightened in the hall.

“Don’t cry, Sara. I know men, he’ll come back…”

Sara turned on her mother. “You know men! But what do you know about me? You think I don’t know how much you regret sending for us? The strain is too much for you, the children are in your way—just as I would have been. All you ever needed was Louie, Louie—”

“How dare you speak to me after all I’ve done…What do you want from me?”

“What I’ve always gotten from you. Nothing. You should have kept out of things. It was between Jacob and me.”

“I couldn’t see him talking to you that way and do nothing.”

“Your concern is very touching…”

Sara went to her room, lay down heavily on the bed and cried until her lids closed in unhappy sleep.

Rachel didn’t sleep at all. Her guilt was too strong. It was all her fault…

Nor did Jacob, as he lay in the sleazy hotel room. He shouldn’t have lost his temper that way, not with Sara in that condition. But he’d had enough of Sara’s mother and he knew there was only one way out. He had to earn more money so he could be rid of Molly, once and for all.

The next day he found out that the shipyards were in need of expert riveters. He went to the Pacific Iron Works, filled out an application and waited to be interviewed. Jacob, of course, didn’t know a rivet from a monkey wrench, but he got the job.

The first day he watched while he worked. Whatever the man beside him did, he did. After a week he became so good that he went to the office and quite confidently asked for a raise. If he didn’t get it he would quit, he said. A man of his experience didn’t have to work for peanuts and he could get a job anywhere. With the war going on, experienced men were needed.

Jacob not only got the raise but was elevated to foreman. Thirty dollars a week was more money than he ever thought he’d make.

On Friday afternoon he left work early, went to the hotel to change his clothes, then went to Rachel’s school and waited for her to come out. When he saw her he thought his heart would break. Two weeks. She looked so
tiny…

“Papa!” she screamed, running toward him. “Oh, papa, I’m so happy to see you. I thought you were never coming back and I cried.”

He swallowed. “Come…I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

It was like New York, waiting for papa and going to buy the charlotte russe…

They sat at the round table in the ice cream parlor. “Rachel, how is mama?”

“Fine.”

Jacob noticed Rachel’s eyes lower. “Is she really?”

“I suppose…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…she cries and cries. She and grandma fight all the time. They say terrible things to each other.”

“They do?”

“Yes, mama says she had no right to come between a husband and wife.”

Jacob’s face softened. “She…I mean, mama said that—”

“Yes.”

Rachel felt the warmth go through her when her father smiled.

“Now listen to me, Rachel. I want you to go home and tell mama that I have a very good job and I’m making a lot of money. You tell her as soon as I find a nice place, I’ll let her know.”

“Oh,
papa
, you really mean it?”

“Of course. I want you to be very careful not to lose this,” he said, handing Rachel some money in an envelope. “Now you’d better go home before mama begins to worry.”

“Why don’t you come too?”

“No, Rachel, I’m not going back to your grandmother’s. But inside the envelope is the name and address of the hotel I’m staying at. Tell mama if she wants to see me, I’m there every night after work.”

Forgetting the melted cone on the table, she got up and put her arms around his neck. “I love you, papa…”

He only nodded. He couldn’t say, “I love you too, Rachel,” but she knew he did.

On Sunday, Sara and the children went to see Jacob. There was no bitterness now. Who had been right and who had been wrong didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they knew they needed each other.

Jacob showed Sara the new house that he’d rented. The livingroom was badly in need of paint but it was better than Rivington Street. And Sara liked the large kitchen and the glassed-in back porch.

There was a little garden in the backyard and a tall hollyhock grew in front of the worn wooden fence.

They climbed the stairs to the two bedrooms. Sara liked it. She wished she had the furniture from Washington Heights, but…

Reading her mind, Jacob said, “If you feel well enough, there’s a furniture store on Fourteenth Street. We can pick out what you need.”

“How will we pay for it?”

“They have time payments. You like the house?”

“Yes, Jacob.
Yes
…”

O
NCE AGAIN THEIR LIVES
were beginning to come together, and Sara seemed quite content. The only sore point was that Jacob refused to allow Molly in his house. Sara and her mother had their differences but both were able to forget and forgive easily. Not so with Jacob. He held his grudges.

Sara tried to explain how mama was, but Jacob didn’t want to hear about it. So Sara kept peace by not bringing it up. She went to see her mother as often as she could and just prayed that eventually Jacob would forgive.

As Sara’s time approached she wrote out long lists for Rachel.

1) Change Doris’ bloomers every day or she’ll forget.

2) Don’t bother making Doris’ curls.

3) Don’t use too many towels so there won’t be so much to wash. The bath towels can be used a few times.

4) Be sure to have the soup hot when papa comes from work. Be sure and put the meat in the same pot.

5) Doris can help with making the beds. Let her hang out the clothes, she’s old enough.

6) Rachel, you wash the dishes and let Doris stand on a box so she can wipe them.

7) Keep the kitchen clean and the livingroom dusted. Use the carpet sweeper twice a week.

8) Wipe out the tub after the bath.

Sara thought she’d covered just about everything. Everything except the pregnancy.

On December 25, 1917, Lillian Sanders was born at the Peralta Hospital in Oakland, California. Eight pounds, two and one-half ounces with a head of black fuzz and dark eyes to match. She would look just like Sara.