[FILE 4.2.4] - - the goldman file / archive - basement files / short stories / and now?

And now?

I never would have guessed I’d be where I am now. The United States always seemed so foreign to me. Less than a year ago I was still calling the Pale of Settlement my home. It seemed as if I would always be living in the Pale, under the rule of a tsar. The tsardom wasn’t even all that bad until the May Laws of ’82 were passed. They can try to restrict us Jews as much as we want, limit where we can and can’t live, suppress our business, but it’s not going to change who we are as a people. We Jews always find a way to make it out of struggles and come out stronger and wiser than before. 

While it was home to me, the Pale wasn’t the most ideal place to live, all things considered. The families in the settlement were tight-knit groups, and had to be due to the hostile environment. Poverty was commonplace; people didn’t have much in the way of gelt, or money as it’s called here, but worked hard for their keep. The daily discrimination during services by the local goyim was manageable, especially if there were no pogroms. There was a stretch of time where there was a calm in the pogroms, and we didn’t have to worry as much, but that all changed not five years into the 20th century. Even with the increase in violence we put up with it, because what else can we do. The main concern is always the family. I couldn’t even bear to think of what life would be like if anything were to happen to my wife, my Rose. My brothers and I looked out for each other. That’s what family is for. Once a family member is lost, attitudes start to change, however. 

It was a fall evening. My brother Leon and I had been away from our own shtetl within the Pale and visiting another in order to sell our furs to a wider range of people. This was the time of year where we made our gel-money, as it was getting colder by the day and people were ready to buy their winter coats. It had already been twenty years since the May Laws were passed at this point, so we were used to the occasional harassment from goyim as we would make our way back home. It was the Cossacks we were afraid of running into. I can still remember that day so clearly. The leaves were in full fall form, and the array of oranges, yellows, and reds made it a wonder how the end of one life cycle can still hold so much beauty. The air was crisp and moist, delicate in a way, primed to be unsettled. 

The two of us were in the horse-drawn carriage on our way back to our shtetl, on the section of the route that was surrounded by trees on both sides. Leon and I were having a conversation about which shtetl take our furs next, disagreeing on where we each thought would be the better location. As we were approaching the bend in the path I noticed two men standing before the turn. Maybe I was just invested in the discussion, but I didn’t think much of them. The next thing I knew, guns were being pointed in our face. Get out of the carriage, and don’t make any sudden movements…! We stood with our arms raised. I could tell they weren’t Cossack’s by the way they were dressed. These men had covered their faces, and it struck me that we actually had run into bandits. It didn’t take them long to find something they were interested in. You there, take off your boots and hand them over…He motioned his gun in the direction of Leon. They wanted Leon’s boots, but Leon wasn’t willing to part ways. 

The boots were a source of pride and desire for Leon, having purchased them after months of saving up his money. Purchases like these don’t come often, but when they do, the money is spent well. In Russia, there’s almost no better investment than a pair of quality boots. Do it now, I’m telling you! Hand the boots over! I recently noticed that Leon also had taken to storing his money in one of the boots, but my brother’s life was much more important than whatever money he had. Give them up Leon, please! Leon shook his head and said no; he refused to let the boots he worked so hard and patiently for be stripped from his possession. We can go buy the finest leather after the season! And then my life was changed forever. Before I could even say another word to him, the air was shattered with the crack of a single round. I lost all feeling in my body and turned to stone. I stood there, unable to make sense of what had just occurred. It all happened so quickly. My brother was there lying in the grass, motionless. As I ran over to him the two men retreated into the brush, and were gone. 

When I got there he wasn’t breathing, and with darkness getting closer I had to make a move. The family was going to be devastated, mother especially. Never had anyone in the family been killed as a result of any sort of violence, and there I was, having just witnessed the murder of my own brother. With no time to think I loaded his body into the carriage and rode off. He was still wearing his boots. The shtetl was not far off, maybe a mile away. I pushed the horses, trying not to spare any time. It was the longest 5 minutes of my life. I kept telling myself, Jacob, you have to move on, but that was going to take time. I wanted to be with Rose; I just had to get back.

No one took the news well when I returned, but that was to be expected. According to Jewish law we had to wait until the next morning to bury Leon, having already missed the dusk cut-off in the day. The funeral was quiet, yet there was still so much to be said. We all began to question our staying in the Pale. We each lost a loved member of our family, and in the process we each lost a piece of ourselves. The loss wasn’t confined to the family, as Leon was very well respected within the shtetl. Things weren’t the same without him. Nothing ended up being the same. 

 Our questions would be answered in the years following. The pogroms intensified. Life wasn’t safe, and this was unacceptable for the family. Rose and I were expecting, and once the tsar was disposed of I knew the time had come for us to make our move. It was time for us to restart our lives. We landed in Baltimore in the summer of 1920, and shortly thereafter Rose and I were blessed with a daughter. An American daughter. We had an American daughter named Ann, and we couldn’t be happier. I found work in New York City, a place that seemed other-worldly to me growing up. I’m still getting used to the roaring nature of life in the city, made no easier without the presence of Leon. He would have loved it here. New York fits his energy perfectly. He would already be used to the cold here like me. To this day I haven’t fully adjusted to life without him. But I know I can still remember him while focusing on the future. Maybe one day I’ll have grandchildren, who will grow up to be doctors and lawyers. Maybe I’ll even have a great grandson, who will go to a university, in Miami maybe. I heard the weather’s nice down there after all.