The Fixer (29 page)
Authors: Bernard Malamud
The lawyer had come and gone, Julius Ostrovsky.
He had appeared one day a few weeks after the Prosecuting Attorney's visit, whispered with the prisoner an hour, filling his ear with what was going on, some that the fixer already had guessed, much that astonished him. He was astonished that strangers knew more than he of the public cause of his suffering and that the complications were so fantastic and endless.
“Tell me the worst,” Yakov had begged, “do you think I will ever get out of here?”
“The worst is that we don't know the worst,” Ostrovsky had answered. “We know you didn't do it, the worst is they know it too but say you did. This is the worst.”
“Do you know when my trial is comingâif ever?”
“What can I answer you? They won't tell us what's happening today, so what can we expect to find out about tomorrow? Tomorrow they also hide from us. They hide even the most basic facts. They're afraid that anything we might know is a Jewish trick. What else can you expect if you are fighting a deadly war and everybody pretends, who's fighting? it's peace. It's a war, believe me.”
The lawyer had risen when Yakov had limped into the room. This time there was no screen separating the prisoner from his visitor. Ostrovsky had at once cautioned him with a gesture, then whispered in his ear, “Speak quietlyâto the floor. They say there's no guard outside the door but speak as if Grubeshov stands there if not the devil.”
He was past sixty, a stocky man with a lined face and baldish head from which a few gray hairs rose like stubble. He had bent legs, wore two-toned button shoes, a black cravat and a short beard.
He had, when the prisoner appeared, stared at Yakov as though unable to believe this was the one. Finally he believed and his eyes changed from surprise to concern. He spoke in intense whispered Yiddish with more than one emotion. “I will introduce myself, Mr. Bok, Julius Ostrovsky of the Kiev bar. I'm glad I'm here at last but don't cheer yet, it's a long way to go. Anyway, some friends sent me.”
“I'm thankful.”
“You have friends though not all Jews, I'm sorry to say,
are your friends. What I mean is that if a man hides his head in a bucket, whose friend is he? To my great regret some of our people shiver in every weather. We have organized a committee to help you but their caution is excessive. They're afraid to âmeddle' or there'll be another calamity. That's in itself a calamity. They shoot with popguns and run from the noise. Still, who has all friends?”
are your friends. What I mean is that if a man hides his head in a bucket, whose friend is he? To my great regret some of our people shiver in every weather. We have organized a committee to help you but their caution is excessive. They're afraid to âmeddle' or there'll be another calamity. That's in itself a calamity. They shoot with popguns and run from the noise. Still, who has all friends?”
“Then who are my friends?”
“I am one and there are others. Take my word, you're not alone.”
“Can you do anything for me? I'm sick of prison.”
“What we can do we'll do. It's a long fight, I don't have to tell you, and the odds are against us. Still, anyway, calm, calm, calm. As the sages say, there are always two possibilities. One we know from too long experience; the otherâthe miracleâwe will hope for. It's easy to hope, it's the waiting that spoils it. But two possibilities make the odds even. So enough philosophy. At this minute there's not much good news; finally we squeezed out an indictment, which means they will now have to schedule the case for trial, though when I leave to Rashi. But first, if you'll excuse me, I'll give you the bad news.” Ostrovsky sighed. “I'm sorry that your father-in-law, Shmuel Rabinovitch, who I had the pleasure to meet and talk to last summerâa gifted manâis now, I'm sorry to tell you, dead from diabetes. This your wife wrote me in a letter.”
“Ah,” said Yakov.
Death had preceded itself. Poor Shmuel, the fixer thought, now I'll never see him again. That's what happens when you say goodbye to a friend and ride out into the world.
He covered his face with his hands and wept.
“He was a good man, he tried to educate me.”
“The thing about life is how fast it goes,” Ostrovsky said.
“Faster than that.”
“You suffer for us all,” the lawyer said huskily. “I would be honored to be in your place.”
“It's without honor,” Yakov said, wiping his eyes with his fingers, and rubbing his hands together. “It's a dirty suffering.”
“You've got my respect.”
“If you don't mind tell me how my case stands. Tell me the truth.”
“The truth is that things are bad though how bad I don't know myself. The case is clear enoughâit's a bad joke from top to bottomâbut it's mixed up in the worst way with the political situation. Kiev, you understand, is a medieval city full of wild superstition and mysticism. It has always been the heart of Russian reaction. The Black Hundreds, may they sink into their graves, have aroused against you the most ignorant and brutal of the masses. They are deathly afraid of Jews and at the same time frighten them to death. This reveals to you something about the human condition. Rich or poor, those of our brethren who can run out of here are running. Some who can't are already mourning. They sniff at the air and it stinks of pogrom. What's going on, as I say, nobody can say precisely. There's on the one hand a rumor that everything that happens, including your indictment, is another delay, and your trial, if you'll excuse me for saying it, will never take place; but on the other hand we hear it might start right after the Duma elections in September. Yes or no, they have no case against you. The civilized world knows this, including the Pope and his cardinals. If Grubeshov âproves' anything it will be by the lies of âthe experts.' But we have our experts against them, for instance a Russian professor of theology,
and I've written to Pavlov, the Tsar's surgeon, to testify on the medical report of the boy's autopsy and he hasn't said no yet. Grubeshov knows who the real murderers are but he shuts both eyes and stares at you. He went to law school with my oldest son and was famous for his socks and vests. Now he's famous for his anti-Semitic socks and vests. Out of Marfa Golov, that piece of trash, he tries to make if not a new saint, at least a persecuted heroine. Her blind lover tried last week to take his life but thank God, he's still alive. Also a clever journalistâmay the Lord make more like him!âPiti-rim Mirsky, discovered recently that Zhenia's father left him a life insurance legacy of five hundred rubles that the two murderers coveted, got, and at once spent. Two hogs, as they say, are worse than one. Mirsky printed this last week in
Poslednie Novosti,
and for that the publisher was fined and the press shut down by the police for three months. They must now discontinue all items about Golov. This is black reaction, but I'm not here to frighten you. You have enough to worry about.”
and I've written to Pavlov, the Tsar's surgeon, to testify on the medical report of the boy's autopsy and he hasn't said no yet. Grubeshov knows who the real murderers are but he shuts both eyes and stares at you. He went to law school with my oldest son and was famous for his socks and vests. Now he's famous for his anti-Semitic socks and vests. Out of Marfa Golov, that piece of trash, he tries to make if not a new saint, at least a persecuted heroine. Her blind lover tried last week to take his life but thank God, he's still alive. Also a clever journalistâmay the Lord make more like him!âPiti-rim Mirsky, discovered recently that Zhenia's father left him a life insurance legacy of five hundred rubles that the two murderers coveted, got, and at once spent. Two hogs, as they say, are worse than one. Mirsky printed this last week in
Poslednie Novosti,
and for that the publisher was fined and the press shut down by the police for three months. They must now discontinue all items about Golov. This is black reaction, but I'm not here to frighten you. You have enough to worry about.”
“What else can frighten me?”
“If you feel bad think of Dreyfus. He went through the same thing with the script in French. We're persecuted in the most civilized languages.”
“I've thought of him. It doesn't help.”
“He was in prison many years, much longer than you.”
“So far.”
Ostrovsky, nodding absently as he gazed at the door, softened his whisper. “We also have an affidavit from Sofya Shiskovsky. One night she went into the toilet in Marfa's house to relieve herself, and there in the bathtub lay the naked corpse covered with wounds. So she screamed and ran out of the house. Marfa, who had gone for a minute upstairs to get a letter to prove a lie, ran after her and caught her in the street. That oneâa madwoman
of the First Guildâthreatened to murder the whole Shiskovsky family if they breathed a word to anybody. They were afraid for Vasya, so they packed the furniture and moved out. When we finally located them, in a log hut in a back street in Moscow, she threatened to kill herself if we interfered with her, but with luck we got at least a short affidavit. She wouldn't let us question Vasya but we will try to have them both in court when the trial starts, if they aren't by that time in Asia. So this is another reason why the prosecution drags its feet: they can't prove a ritual murder but they won't stop trying, and the longer they take the more dangerous the situation becomes. It's dangerous because it's irrational, complex, secret. And it grows more dangerous as they get more desperate.”
of the First Guildâthreatened to murder the whole Shiskovsky family if they breathed a word to anybody. They were afraid for Vasya, so they packed the furniture and moved out. When we finally located them, in a log hut in a back street in Moscow, she threatened to kill herself if we interfered with her, but with luck we got at least a short affidavit. She wouldn't let us question Vasya but we will try to have them both in court when the trial starts, if they aren't by that time in Asia. So this is another reason why the prosecution drags its feet: they can't prove a ritual murder but they won't stop trying, and the longer they take the more dangerous the situation becomes. It's dangerous because it's irrational, complex, secret. And it grows more dangerous as they get more desperate.”
“Then what will I do?” said Yakov in despair. “How much more can I stand if I'm already half dead?”
“Patience, calm, calm, calm,” Ostrovsky counseled, clasping his hands and squeezing. Then he looked at the fixer in a new light and struck his head with his palm.
“For God's sake, why are we standing yet? Come sit down. Forgive me, I'm blind in both eyes.”
They sat then on a narrow bench in the far corner of the room away from the door, the lawyer still whispering. “Your case is tied up with the frustrations of recent Russian history. The Russo-Japanese War, I don't have to tell you, was a terrible disaster but it brought on the Revolution of 1905, which was coming anyway. âWar,' as Marx says, âis the locomotive of history.' This was good for Russia but bad for the Jews. The government, as usual, blamed us for their troubles and not more than one day after the Tsar's concessions pogroms started simultaneously in three hundred towns. Of course you know this, what Jew doesn't?”
“Tell me anyway, what harm can it do?”
“The Tsar was frightened by the rising agitationâ
strikes, riots, assassinations. The country was paralyzed. After the Winter Palace massacre he reluctantly gave out a ukase promising the basic freedoms. He granted a Constitution, the Imperial Duma was established, and for a short time it lookedâfor Russia, you understandâlike the beginning of a liberal period. The Jews cried hurray for the Tsar and wished him luck. Imagine, in the first Duma we had twelve deputies! Right away they brought up the question of equal rights for all and the abolition of the Pale of Settlement. Like a new world, no?”
strikes, riots, assassinations. The country was paralyzed. After the Winter Palace massacre he reluctantly gave out a ukase promising the basic freedoms. He granted a Constitution, the Imperial Duma was established, and for a short time it lookedâfor Russia, you understandâlike the beginning of a liberal period. The Jews cried hurray for the Tsar and wished him luck. Imagine, in the first Duma we had twelve deputies! Right away they brought up the question of equal rights for all and the abolition of the Pale of Settlement. Like a new world, no?”
“Yes, but go on.”
“I'll go on but what can I say? In a sick country every step to health is an insult to those who live on its sickness. The imperial absolutists, the rightist elements, warned the Tsar his crown was slipping. He was already regretting the concessions and began to try to cancel them. In other words, for ten minutes he put on the lights and what he saw frightened him so much, since then he has been putting them out one by one so nobody will notice. As much as he could he changed back to an autocratic regime. The reactionary groupsâthe Union of Russian People, the Society of the Double-headed Eagle, the Union of the Archangel Michaelâoppose worker and peasant movements, liberalism, socialism, any kind of reform, which also meant, naturally, the common enemy, the Jews. At the thought of a constitutional monarch their bones rattled. Organized together, they became the Black Hundreds, which means in gangs of a hundred for what disgusting purposes I don't have to tell you. They gnaw like rats to destroy the independence of the courts, the liberal press, the prestige of the Duma. To distract popular attention from the breaches of the Russian Constitution they incite nationalism against non-Orthodox Russians. They persecute every minorityâPoles, Finns, Germans, usâbut especially us.
Popular discontent they divert into anti-Semitic outbreaks. It's a simple solution to their problems. Also they enjoy themselves because with the government's help they murder Jews and it's good for business.”
Popular discontent they divert into anti-Semitic outbreaks. It's a simple solution to their problems. Also they enjoy themselves because with the government's help they murder Jews and it's good for business.”
“I'm only one man, what do they want from me?”
“One man is all they need so long as they can hold him up as an example of Jewish bloodthirst and criminality. To prove a point it's best to have a victim. In 1905 and 1906 thousands of innocent people were butchered, property damage in the millions of rubles. These pogroms were planned in the office of the Minister of Interior. We know that the anti-Jewish proclamations were printed on Police Department presses. And there are rumors that the Tsar himself contributes from the royal treasury for anti-Semitic books and pamphlets. We got all we need to frighten us but we're also frightened by rumors.”
“By the wind,” said Yakov.
“If you're frightened everything frightens you,” Ostrovsky said. “Anyway, it's a long story but I'm making it short. Now I come direct to your door. When Premier Stolypin, no friend of ours, wanted, before the election of the second Duma, to throw a few bones to the Jews, a few little rights to stop their big complaints, the reactionaries ran to the Tsar and right away he changed the Electoral Laws, taking away the vote from a large part of the population to reduce Jewish and liberal representation in the Duma and cut down opposition to the government. We now have maybe three deputies for three and a half million Jews and these too they want to get rid of. A year ago they assassinated one right in the street. But now I come to you. An atmosphere of hysteria developed all over the country. Still, there was some progress, don't ask me how, and the Imperial Duma was once more discussing whether, yes or no, to abolish the Pale of Jewish Settlement when right at this minute.
when the Black Hundreds were frantic, one day a Christian boy was found dead in a cave and there appeared on the scene, Yakov Bok.”
when the Black Hundreds were frantic, one day a Christian boy was found dead in a cave and there appeared on the scene, Yakov Bok.”
The fixer sat numbed. He waited for Ostrovsky to spit, but the lawyer sighed deeply and went on talking. “Where you came from nobody knew, or who you were, but you came just in time. I understand you came on a horse. When they saw you they pounced, and that's why we're sitting here now. But don't feel too bad, if it weren't you there'd be another in your place.”
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