The Willow Tree: A Novel (22 page)

Yes…many times—The woman closed her eyes for a moment, tilted her head—Yes, without doubt I have said many times I want to leave this madness. But my blood is here. Can I leave my blood for old bones, even if the breeze from the ocean whispers to me? No, I think not Isabella. I must stay with my blood. There are yet 2 more to grow. Blood goes on…and on…does it not?

Yes….Yes momma…and on. But—suddenly Isabellas shoulders sagged. They were silent. In time the old woman moved her hands through the grief to Isabellas cup and gently nudged it toward her daughter.

Moishe was aware that he was becoming increasingly restless each time Bobby left to ‘check out the scene’. A bowl of ice cream, with chocolate sauce, didnt really help, nor did sitting and petting the cat. Perhaps it did take the edge off a little, but he always ended up sitting and getting up, sitting and getting up, going to this room, going to that room, listening to the radio, listening to music, reading, but no matter what he did, or didnt do, he was always thinking about Bobby, doing all he could to keep his mind from worrying, but he couldnt keep from thinking about him and what he was doing and what he was planning on doing, and he is just a boy, just a boy, a young boy who shouldnt be thinking about doing those things….But hasnt it always been that way? Hasnt every generation taken young boys and trained them to kill? And is he really so young here? Is this so much different from a war??? and Moishe would shake his head in wonder at a world that does these things

             YOURE CRAZY SOL—standing close to him, leaning forward, his face inches from Sols—YOURE CRAZY!!!!—Moishes eyes bulging, his face red and bloated with rage, his body so rigid it looked like it was threatening to snap, his hands clutching at air, trying to find something to squeeze, to choke, to wrap around and brutally strangle the life from, feeling himself gloat and salivate, his spittle dripping into the bulging eyes of Klaus as he squeezed a little tighter, ever so slightly tighter and tighter, wanting Klaus to live as long as possible, to suffer as much as possible, to squeeze into his miserable throat all the suffering he and his family had endured because of him, and so he would increase the pressure just the faintest bit, rejoicing in the reflection of pain and pleading in Klaus’ eyes, the mute please dribbling from his lips, the wild impotent flailing of his arms, feeling and hearing the ligaments, muscles, tendons and bones crackle and shift and throb under his hands, overwhelmed with the glorious knowledge and awareness that he was forcing the life out of Klaus, not a disease nor court of law, no vengeful god, but him, Werner Schultz was judge, jury and god and slowly squeezing the life out of this vermin and every cell of his being was rejoicing and celebrating knowing he was doing it, he was causing the life to slowly, O how beautifully slowly, half breath by half breath, ebb from this man he hated more than the guards that prodded and taunted them, the officers that abused and killed them…more even than the god that allowed all this to happen, and as he watched Klaus’ eyes film over and his arms start to hang limp from lack of air he knew he was killing all the evil in the universe and as Klaus hung limp in his hands he released his throat and watched Klaus’ body jerk with spasms as it reacted to the sudden influx of air and he groveled and gasped, eyes seeming even wider than before, as he gulped the air into his lungs, the blood rushing feverishly to free itself of the carbon dioxide and take in the life-sustaining oxygen and as Klaus’ breathing started to normalize and he was actually able to move just a little, Werner leaned over, close to Klaus’ face and smiled with all the hatred he had in his mind, speaking slowly and clearly with such vehemence it almost took the breath from Klaus’ body, I hate you you son of a bitch….I am going to kill you a thousand times…slowly clutching his hands around Klaus’ throat, waiting until he heard Klaus cry and scream with a voice that was so thick, so hoarse from a crushed windpipe it sounded more like a groan from the bowels of the earth, before he squeezed hard enough to choke off all sound and once again rejoice in seeing the inner terror and struggle in his eyes as well as feeling the still living life force trying to combat Moishes strength and determination and Moishe laughed out loud, very loud, louder and louder as he felt the resistance and played with it, opening his hands slightly from time to time to only once again squeeze, squeeze—Moishe laughing and laughing, squeezing and laughing….

                                                                       MADNESS SOL…WHAT YOU ASK IS MADNESS—Moishe increasingly aware of the clutching of his hands as they hung at his sides, Sol looking at him with compassion and understanding, Moishe immobilized by his rage, feeling as if he would explode, leaning inches from Sols face, hands strangling the air around them, until he suddenly screamed and started pounding the wooden post, and soon stopped screaming and simply clung with rigid desperation to the post and sobbed, and once again Sol hugged Moishe, saying only, It is alright my friend…it is alright…rubbing his shoulders until Moishe collapsed into Sols arms and his head dropped on Sols shoulder, Moishes tears soaking through the striped fabric of Sols shirt, Sols tears wetting the striped fabric of Moishes shirt as he hugged him, repeating gently in Moishes ear, It is alright my friend…it is alright….

Bobby was still bopping along on the balls of his feet as he walked through the rubble, past the deserted and decaying buildings, swerving to avoid a hole, stepping over broken bottles and pieces of metal, avoiding wire that could wrap around his ankles and cut right through his sneakers, feeling his way around about as good as in the hood, maybe better because he didnt take anything for granted around here, no way, so he bopped along, springing, bouncing, feeling good, real good, cause a plan was falling in place and now hed make him a schedule and go back there every now and then an let someone see him and he have them spics going crazy and sooner or later they be alone, O man this be fine—and he moved easily through the rubble, stopping only rarely to check something out, right up to the stairs leading down to Moishes cellar and found the flashlight easily and started walking through the blackness, but now more slowly because this was some tricky shit, you got to make the right turns or you be lost forever down here and end up being food for the rats and he be gauddamned if he was going to be feeding the rats, least not to keep them alive, and he checked his map from time to time, first deciding what was the right way, and smiling and giggling when he checked the map and found out he was right and continued along his way, feeling more and more confident because now he had a plan and now he knew how to get through this trap and he was getting stronger, he could feel it in his bones as well as his muscles, and soon he was at the last turn and as he went around the corner he saw a light but instead of panicking he smiled because he knew it was Moishe and he called to him, and Moishe answered, and when he reached Moishe Bobby tapped him on the shoulder, his smile even bigger, Whach you doin out here Mush?

Youre coming Im thinking, so I meet you here—shrugging—I dont know, seems like I should.

Too lazy to meet me back there, eh?

Moishe smiled, I think its the time you find it alone.

Bobby giggled, O yeah, suppose my sweet little ass got lost, whach you be doin then?

Moishe grinned and tapped Bobby on the shoulder, Im knowing youre finding it.

Bobby nodded, You be right on Mush….But what the fuck we be doin standin out here? Lets go on home.

Moishe nodded and opened the lock and they went in. They both headed, automatically, for the kitchen and Bobby sat down and Moishe filled 2 bowls with ice cream and chocolate sauce. Bobby was so excited, and grinning so widely that it made Moishe chuckle, So….

Bobby quickly jammed a couple of spoonsful of ice cream in his mouth, then started telling Moishe about his night, almost bouncing up and down with excitement.

I tellya Mush, I really be doin it cool, jus like them ol mountain mens I be seein on tv. I be checkin it all but an soon I be knowin every inch with my eyes closed, I be knowin what goes where and whats aroun each corner. Like Wyatt Earp with all them shotguns stashed around town, you know?

Moishe grinned and shrugged, So what am I a gunfighter Im knowin these things? Wyatt Earp????

Bobby laughed, You see Mush, that be your trouble. You jus aint hip to history man. Thas cause you ain got no tv. Caint be knowin all these important things you aint got no tv.

Moishe was still grinning as they sat in silence for a moment, eating ice cream, Bobby eating as rapidly as possible, his spoon clanging against the bowl, So what you think Mush, aint that a cool idea…I be drivin them spics crazy.

Moishe swallowed his sadness with a mouthful of ice cream and nodded his head, and Bobby continued rambling on about the night and his plan, Moishe nodding occasionally. Eventually Bobby stopped talking and leaned back in his chair and seemed to almost collapse, Im goin to be gettin to bed Mush, I be beat. Gotta stay in shape. Need lots a rest. See ya in the mornin bro.

Sleep good

Moishe remained at the table after Bobby left, reminding himself to just love him…just love him Werner…just love him.

Bobby awakened the next morning still feeling excited about his plan. It seemed even better when he thought about it, play a little psychological warfare with those dudes. It all seemed to be working out and it made him feel good, confident, and so he had a little extra energy when he started working out…from time to time his shoulders or head moving slightly as if dismissing a thought.

Moishe became aware that he couldnt hear Bobby working out. He sat in silence at the kitchen table for a few moments, then went back to eating his breakfast. Suddenly Bobby was standing in front of him, body still shiny with sweat, a serious expression on his face, What the fuck you mean bout hate!?

Moishe stared at Bobby for a moment, not really understanding, struggling to know the question so he could search for an answer.

You know what I be meanin Mush, all that shit about hate doin in your own self.

Moishe lifted his head in recognition, So….

What the fuck all that bool shit be about—Bobbys indignation growing—What the fuck that be all about man?

Moishe shrugged and turned his hands palms up, It means hate always stays inside like…like…like a cancer and destroys you.

Well it aint gonna be killin me. I be hatin those muthafuckas an aint nothin be stoppin me from hatinem even after I be finished with them. You be diggin that man!?

Moishe tried to not allow his face to reflect his sudden feeling of sadness, but it was impossible, Ya, I know how you feel—nodding his head with a great degree of understanding and respect—I know how it is feeling Bobby.

Sheeit, aint nobody knowin how I feel about—Bobby stared at Moishe unable to will himself to finish the sentence, unable to even finish the thought….

                                   they looked at each other for many heartbeats, the confusion and conflict on Bobbys face obvious as he tried desperately to find a way to believe that no one…NO ONE! knew how he felt, how fucked over he felt not only by the spics but the whole fucking world, how sometimes he felt ground into the cement, the black tar of the streets, the streets covered with shit, spit, piss, oil, dirt, garbage, and an occasional body, that NO ONE knew how it felt to be fucked over because you be black, because you be poor, because you be…because you just be…and the more he looked into Moishes face the more his frustration intensified and he felt like he was going to explode, that there was nowhere to go with the energy that was building up within him and if he couldnt find a way to justify these feelings that were consuming him he would explode, and his head started shaking and beads of sweat erupted on his face and suddenly he collapsed onto a chair and closed his eyes and grabbed his head….

                                   and all this time Moishe sat remembering the look of compassion on Sols face hoping it was now on his, trying not to allow the terrible aching in his heart to intrude upon Bobbys right to do what he had to do to learn what he had to learn, wanting, as always, to reach out to Bobby and with a magic wave of his hand eliminate all pain from his life, but Moishe could not even remember a fairy tale where that happened. None. There was always the test, the lesson, the victory over our own limitations that had to be won so Moishe put his energy into remembering Sols look and remembering that there was no difference between himself and Bobby. Moishe reminded himself that he had survived the camp, as well as his hate, and hoped in his heart of hearts, that Bobby would survive too, and would more than survive but would prevail over his hate….

              and in time Bobby raised his head and looked at Moishe, wiping his face with his hands, staring at Moishes expression for many minutes, hearing the tick and thump of his heart, hearing each breath entering and leaving his body, finding himself being absorbed by the rhythms in his body and the look on Moishes face….

I dont mean you nothin Mush, but I still be hatin them muthafuckas an if it be killin me then it goin kill me, but I damn surell be killinem firs….

                  There was another silence, each aware of their own and the others breathing….

Ya…nodding his head—Ya….Always your friend. So….

                  Eventually Bobby got up slowly, I bes be showerin Mush, doan want them spics be smellin me comin—and he forced a smile on his face before he left the room. Moishe watched Bobby walk away and his eyes were suddenly singed with the death-smell of the camp and he jerked himself up and waved away the thoughts, Enough, enough. Its better I cook a good breakfast for him and give my head a rest. To the stove Werner…to the stove.

Bobby continued his night-time excursions to the hood from time to time. Sometimes he would go back 3 and 4 nights in a row, with a few days off, and then just a night here and there with several nights in between, sometimes making sure someone saw him 2 nights in a row, once 3 in a row, but usually making sure there was at least one night between and always be sure there was no pattern to where he might be seen, where he might show up next. He had to be cool and make sure the spics didnt get him in his trap, layin in wait for him to show up some time and doin his ass in. He didnt know exactly how long he had been with Moishe, but he figured it was a couple of months because he was on his way to school when it happened. An he was gettin strong. All that stuff Moishe was giving him, all those vitamins and stuff, and the food, was really making him feel good and the exercising was working, it was really working, he could see his muscles were bigger. And he was really diggin working out. It hurt so much when he first started he almost wanted to cry, but now it was different. It still hurt but in a different way and he always felt so good when he finished, good in a way he never had before. There was a sense of lightness and strength in his body that was new, and a physical sense of security. He just felt different walking the street. And by the time he finished showering and eating he felt like he had been laughing for a while, or something. Anyway, it was working real good and thats how he felt.