Under a Red Sky (24 page)

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Authors: Haya Leah Molnar

BOOK: Under a Red Sky
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Most of the guests are gone. The few remaining are seated at the table sipping Turkish coffee. Their masks are all off, with the exception of a tall man with the mask of comedy and tragedy, who is still wearing his. A green bottle of seltzer with a silver spout and lever is on the table next to Uncle Max. I tap Uncle Max's arm and point to the seltzer. He shakes it and fills my glass.
A lone voice starts to sing at the table. “Kol'od balleivav pen-
imah
…” Uncle Max grabs my hand and whispers in my ear “It's Hatikvah, ‘The Hope,' Israel's national anthem.” As the voice gains momentum, each person around the table stands up and starts to sing. Those of us who do not know the words sing the melody. We are all standing and singing, except for one person, the man who is still wearing his mask of comedy and tragedy. Uncle Max picks up the green bottle of seltzer, shakes it, and sprays him from head to toe.
“Get up on your feet, Jew!” Uncle Max tells him.
The man gets up and pulls his mask off. Uncle Max's friend Silviu, the mole, is grinning and dripping seltzer.
Moments later there is a knock on the door. Two Securitate men in gray coats and hats appear and ask if Silviu Florescu is here. Silviu gets up. His face is as white as a sheet as he identifies himself. The two men surround him, each putting an arm around him, and walk him out. Tirtza follows them out the door. I hear a car door slam and the car drive off. Tirtza comes back to the dining room and asks Max for a cigarette. Max hands his sister the pack even though Tirtza isn't a smoker.
“They took him,” she says, shaking between drags. “The Securitate men said there was a raid on Silviu's house earlier this evening. They found a box filled with coco
ei—old Romanian gold coins called ‘little roosters' that were minted before Communism—hidden behind an armoire.”
“God help his wife and children,” Uncle Max says.
One by one all of Tirtza's guests go home. The Purimspiel party is over. When we arrive home, I go straight to my room, take off my costume, and get into my pajamas. When I slide under the covers, I notice it. The portrait that Mimi has painted of me is hanging above the clock on the Biedermeier chest. I get out of bed to take a closer look. There I am, in full Pioneer uniform, standing straight as an arrow.
“LET'S SEE
if we can get this thing out,” Grandpa Yosef mutters, pounding on the shelf with the screwdriver handle until the shelf lands on the pantry floor with a loud thud. There's a flashlight on the tile floor next to him. Its beam is pointed up toward the bottom shelf of the pantry, where Grandpa's hands are searching for something. When he doesn't find what he's looking for, he lies on his back, sliding his head into the tight space between the shelf and the floor. Grandpa stares at the empty left corner of the pantry in silence.
“What's the matter?” I ask.
Grandpa continues to look blank, as if he hasn't heard me.
“What's the matter, Grandpa?”
“I can't believe this,” he says, shaking his head. “I hid the box right here in this corner, but it's not there.”
“What box?” I ask.
“The box with my coco
ei. I hid it right here,” he says, pointing again at the empty corner. “Right after we moved into this house.”
“Grandpa, Silviu was arrested at the Purim party last week for hiding coco
ei in his house,” I tell him.
“Yes, I know that,” Grandpa says, getting up and wiping the dust off his shirtsleeves. “That's why I'm looking for mine. We can't have them searching the house and risk getting arrested.”
A wave of panic rises from my toes and travels up my spine. “What do the coco
ei look like, Grandpa? Tell me and I'll help you find them!”
Grandpa laughs. “They look like beautiful gold coins, Eva.”
He squats so he can see my face in the dim light. Beads of sweat are glistening on his brow, and his black-rimmed reading glasses have slid down to the tip of his nose. “You've never seen a gold coin, have you?” He takes both my hands in his. “Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll find them. If they're still here, we'll find them and bury them somewhere far away from this house, where the gold coins can never be connected to any of us.”
“Why did you ever keep them?” I ask, fighting my tears.
“Because they're valuable. These coco
ei saved my life several times during the war. They're emergency funds.”
“But, Grandpa, Uncle Max said they're illegal. You can't use them anymore. Why are they so dangerous?”
“They're gold, Eva, and the Party says that owning any gold coins is ‘capitalist.' That's why I'm looking for them.” Grandpa's voice is tired. “I figured the Communists can be bribed as easily as the fascists, given the right circumstances, but maybe I was wrong. You know, Eva, sometimes money can buy you your life.”
“Grandpa, they could have just as well taken your money and killed you.”
“You're right. They could have, but they didn't. I thought I was shrewd, but I was just plain lucky. I always gave the fascists a reason
to keep me alive. I told them that there were more coco
ei where those came from. It was a little game the chief of police and I played during the war. It nearly drove your grandmother insane. Every time I got picked up and interrogated, she thought it was the last time she'd see me.” Grandpa smiles at the recollection. “I can't afford to play these games now. Not when your life may be at stake.”
We don't find the coco
ei. Grandpa enlists everyone's help, except for Sabina's. He describes the box and its contents. Uncle Max takes apart the entire pantry, shelf by shelf, and then has to put it back together again. Uncle Natan looks under every mattress in all the bedrooms, despite Aunt Puica's protests that he is invading the privacy of her inner sanctum. Tata goes through the dining room breakfront and even takes the dining table apart to search its base. When Sabina retires upstairs for the evening, Grandma Iulia enters the kitchen with Grandpa Yosef. She rummages through each drawer and then takes it out so that she can look behind it in the hope that the box has somehow been taped or nailed beneath. She orders Grandpa to bring out the ladder and hold on to her as she climbs so that she can inspect the top shelves with her very own eyes.
“It's not up there, Iulia,” Grandpa tries to convince her. “I know where I hid the damn thing, and I'm telling you it was in the pantry, not in the kitchen! Someone must have stolen the box, because I remember where I hid it.”
“Shut up, you old fool,” Grandma Iulia mutters, getting down from the ladder. “You better hope that it was stolen, because I'm not taking any chances with my children.”
“Neither am I, Iulia.” Grandpa sighs. “Our children.”
“How would you know?” Grandma snaps.
“Where the box is hidden or whether they are my children, Iulia?” Grandpa asks, pinching her cheek.
“Don't try to sweeten me up, you old fart,” Grandma says, waddling out of the kitchen.

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