The Dressmaker's Son (8 page)

CHAPTER 16

March 1914

Jacob sat quietly
on the pulpit, or
bema
, as it was called in the synagogue.  He always
enjoyed the connection he felt with God while sitting in this holy place.  For
him it was a time of reflection.  He was very grateful for all his success in
America, and he knew it was because of God’s will.  Sitting on the bema was an honor
bestowed on those who gave of their time, and often money, to the synagogue.  Jacob
had been instrumental in helping the synagogue grow.  He also helped newly-immigrated
families by giving them fabrics and sewing notions for making clothes for their
new life in America.  It was a part of Jacob’s makeup to want to do good for
people.  In the old country, the religious or observant Jews wore what were
called
tzitsi
.  This was a fringed shawl men wore under their shirts,
with knots along the bottom that hung out.  These knots represented the number
of mitzvahs, or good deeds, one was supposed to do.  “Remember,” Jacob used to
tell the children, “You don’t have to be wearing a
tzitsi
to perform a
mitzvah.  Every day you should try to perform one.”  And he practiced what he
preached.  Sometimes at dinner one of the children would share a mitzvah they
had performed that day.  One evening Leah declared, “I did two mitzvahs today.  A
boy knocked my friend Ruth down on purpose and all her books went flying.  I
helped her pick everything up.”

            “That was very nice,” Rachael
interjected. “What was the second mitzvah?”

            “I pushed the boy down
and grabbed his books.  I told him I wouldn’t throw them around, but if he did
anything like this again, he would have to answer to Sollie.  I taught him a
lesson.”

            Everybody at the table
laughed.  “Very good, Leah,” Jacob said smiling.  “I hope Sollie is up to the
task.”

            The service hadn’t
started yet, and as he looked around the congregation Jacob noticed a tall
gentleman taking a seat in the very back.  “He looks awfully familiar to me,” Jacob
thought. When the man looked up, Jacob noticed his very light eyes.  Then he
took off his hat, and revealed a mass of straight blond hair.

            “Doesn’t look Jewish to
me,” Jacob thought.  Halfway through the service Jacob heard the familiar
squeak of the door saw the gentleman get up and leave.

            When the service was
over, Jacob chatted a while with some men and then headed home.  He had never
been a particularly observant Jew in regard to keeping the Sabbath, and he did
not close his store.  Rachael was there watching over things until he came in.  It
was a pleasant walk, and Jacob nodded to many people along the way.  Suddenly
he spotted the gentleman he had seen in the synagogue leaning against a post.  Jacob
slowed as he approached him and held out his hand.

            “Hello, there,” he said.
“I’m Jacob.  I noticed you were at our services this morning.”

            The gentleman stuck out
his hand and took Jacob’s hand in his. “I’m Misha,” he said quietly.

            Jacob’s stomach turned
over.  “No wonder I recognized him,” he thought. “Little Samuel looks exactly
like him.” 

Before Jacob could
say anything else, Misha continued, “I’ve come to get my son.”

Jacob tried to
keep his voice level. “You have a child here in New York?”

“Don’t talk to me
like I’m stupid, Jacob.  I know who you are.  I know Rachael is at your store
now.  I know your mother-in-law Rose is back in Yelizavetgrad in her little delicatessen.
I have had someone intercepting her letters to you for months.  I know Rebekah
is making dresses for the finest women.  I know all about my Misha’s activities
here, Jacob.  And I know the involvement you had with the revolution in Russia
and what you are doing here.  I would kill you here and now for what you did,
Jacob, but I know that would prevent me from getting Misha.  If you are smart, you
will tell Rebekah to give me my son.  Don’t get in my way.  I won’t leave here
without Misha.”  With that he turned and started to walk away.

Jacob had no idea
what Misha was talking about. He grabbed gently at Misha’s sleeve. “What do you
mean, ‘what I did?’” he asked.

Misha looked at
him coldly. “You killed my brother, Jacob. The soldier you shot during the
pogrom.  He was my only brother. It wasn’t hard to find out who had killed him.
 Vladimir is very fond of his family and wanted them to remain safe.  You’re a
wanted man in Russia.  I could probably have you legally deported to stand
trial for what you did.  Then I could watch you shot to death by my firing
squad.”

            Jacob felt as though he
had walked into the middle of a nightmare.  He ran the rest of the way to
Rebekah’s house and bounded up the stairs.  Pounding on the door he yelled,
“Rebekah, open up. It’s me, Jacob.”

            “Hold on,” she shouted.
  "I’ll be right there.”

            Jacob heard the lock
turn as Rebekah opened the door.  She stood there with a dress hanging over her
arm. “What’s the big emergency?" She began.  But then she looked at Jacob’s
face.

            “Oh my God!  What is it
Jacob? Is Rachael okay?  Is it my Samuel? What’s wrong?”

            Jacob took a deep
breath and in a very controlled monotone asked, “Who is Misha, Rebekah?”

            Rebekah turned into the
room and walked toward the sofa where she put the dress over the arm. “What do
you mean, ‘Who is Misha’?”

            “Just what I said.  He’s
tall; he’s blond; and he has Samuel’s eyes. Who is he, Rebekah?”

            Rebekah felt unsteady
and sat down on the sofa.  Her heart raced.  “He is Samuel’s father, Jacob,”
she said in a whisper. “How do you know about him?”

            “Because he is here
Rebekah, and he wants Samuel back.”

            Rebekah sat still as a
stone.  Her eyes were closed, and her face had lost all its color.  Her
breathing was shallow. After what seemed like forever, she raised her head and
looked at Jacob. “Michael never knew, Jacob,” she said quietly.  “Only Mama
knows. I never even told Rachael.”

            “How, Rebekah?” Jacob
asked. “How could something like this happen?”

            “Sit, Jacob, and I will
tell you.”

            Jacob took a seat
adjacent to the sofa and listened to Rebekah’s story.

            When she was done she
looked at Jacob, her face wet with tears. “I couldn’t let him take Samuel,
Jacob.  I know everything I did was wrong, but he is my son.  He had a bris.  He
is Jewish.  He would have raised him as a Christian and groomed him to be a
Russian soldier.  Mama said I had to come here with him if he were to be safe.”

            Jacob just stared at
her, remembering how selfishly she acted when he and Rachel left Russia. It had
made his heart ache for Rose. And he had often thought her treatment of her
husband was almost cruel, but he was always stunned by her beauty.  Even in her
heightened state of anxiety she looked beautiful.  Her long black hair hung loosely
almost to her shoulders; her turquoise eyes surrounded by long black lashes
glimmered with tears, and her porcelain skin seemed to almost sparkle.  He
looked away as his anger turned to empathy.  She was a good mother and her pain
was excruciating.

            “What did he say, Jacob?”

Jacob faced
Rebekah. “He knows all about us, Rebekah.  He has been intercepting letters to
your mother.  He knows where you live, where my store is, how you are earning a
living.  And he knows of my participation in the Bund activities in Russia and here.”
 He hesitated for a minute. “And, Rebekah, remember the soldier I shot at Ratner’s
Pharmacy?  Well, it was his brother.  I am a wanted man in Russia.  If he could
figure out how, he would have me deported.”

            He was amazed that
Misha had known that Jacob, while in Russia, had been very active in the “Bund,”
a group seeking to get reform for the peasant farmers.  Before the last pogrom
he had taken Solomon to a Bund meeting, “You are almost thirteen,” he told
Solomon.  “You must begin to learn about our reform plight and that of others.”

Solomon was amazed
by what he heard at the meeting which was led by his father. “Does Mama know
you do this?” he asked Jacob on the way home as they walked behind houses and
stores out of the main routes.  “Yes,” he replied. “Your mother is a strong
woman.  She would go to these meetings herself if I would let her, but it is
too dangerous.  If something were to happen, who would take care of all of you?
She worries, but she knows how important this is.  Our people can’t forever be
kept apart from society, and the farm workers deserve a chance at some kind of
life.”

“My, God, Jacob!
What are we going to do?” Rebekah lamented.

            “I’m not sure, but
first we have to find Samuel.  Is he downstairs with Mrs. Weiss?”

            “No. I let her take him
for ice cream.  They always go on Saturday right after lunch before his nap.”

            Jacob jumped up and
headed for the door.  “We need to find him now, Rebekah,” he barked.  Instantly
she was at his side and they ran down the steps.

            Before they reached the
bottom, they almost knocked down Mrs. Weiss who was headed up.

            “Mrs. Weiss,” Rebekah
asked. “Where is Samuel?”

            “I thought he might
have come home,” she replied cautiously. “I went in to get him an ice cream,
and when I came out he was gone.”

            “You left him by
himself?!” Rebekah all but shouted.

            “Of course not,
Rebekah,” Mrs. Weiss replied, raising her voice to match Rebekah’s.  “This nice
gentleman from the old country stopped to talk to us and Samuel took an
immediate liking to him.  He said he would watch him while I got the ice cream,
but when I came out, they weren’t there so I thought Samuel might have asked
him to take him home.”

            Rebekah became
hysterical. “He has him, Jacob.  What are we going to do? He’ll take him back
to Russia.  We’ve got to find them.”

            “Let’s make sure it is
Misha,” Jacob said calmly. “What did the man look like, Mrs. Weiss?”

            Mrs. Weiss described
Misha perfectly.  “I don’t understand,” she said trying to keep the panic out
of her voice. “Who is this man? Why are you so worried he will take Samuel?”

            “It’s a long story, Mrs.
Weiss,” Jacob answered.  “It’s okay.  This isn’t your fault.  Just go inside
and we will let you know what is happening.”

            Jacob turned to
Rebekah, “We’ll go to my house and organize a search.  One of the girls can
stay with Gabe, and the rest of us will check the neighborhood and hotels.  I’ll
check the listings to see which ships are sailing.”

            As Jacob rushed to his
store he tried to figure out how Misha could have gotten to Samuel so fast.  The
ice cream shop was about two blocks past where Rebekah lived.  There was a
shorter route from the synagogue, but Jacob liked to take the longer route
which usually enabled him to visit with friends along the way.  He had spent
about fifteen minutes with Rebekah once he got there.  It was possible that
Misha had gone around the other way, saw Samuel with Mrs. Weiss and had taken
him. From what Misha said, it was not impossible that he knew of his son’s
weekly journey to the ice cream store.

            Rachael could tell as
Jacob and Rebekah walked into the store that something was wrong. “Rebekah,”
she said trying to keep her voice calm. “What’s wrong? You’ve been crying. Is
Samuel okay?”

            “Where are the
children, Rachael?” Jacob asked.

            “Joshua and Solomon are
upstairs.  Miriam is upstairs with Gabe, and Leah has gone to a friend’s house.
 What is wrong, Jacob?”

            “Rebekah will tell you.
 I’ll go get the children,” he said and headed upstairs.

            Rachael was in shock
when Rebekah finished telling her the story.

CHAPTER 17

Misha couldn’t
believe how easy it had been to take little Misha.  After his confrontation
with Jacob, he was prepared to do whatever he had to in order to get his son.  He
had been in New York for almost three weeks and had seen the routine that
Rebekah followed.  It wasn’t always the same, but the last two Saturdays he had
seen Mrs. Weiss and Misha go to the ice cream shop.  He knew after he spoke to
Jacob that Jacob would go to Rebekah’s.  It was obvious from his reaction,
although he tried not to show it, that he had no idea that Rebekah’s husband
had not been the child’s father.  Misha knew that if he could get to the ice
cream shop quickly, he might be able to get little Misha before Rebekah and
Jacob went looking for him.  

It had worked like
a charm.  Mrs. Weiss was standing by the shop with Samuel.  Misha smiled at the
child, “What a beautiful little boy you have,” he said in Russian.  

Mrs. Weiss giggled.
“Oh, he’s not my child,” she said.  “My children are grown.  He is the son of
my boarder.”

            “Well, he is beautiful
nonetheless,” Misha answered.  Bending down to be at eye level with Samuel he
continued, “What is your name, little boy?”

            “Samuel.”

            “And how old are you,
Samuel?” Misha asked, hating to have to call him by that name.

            Samuel held up four
fingers.  “Almost this much,” he said.

            “Almost four,” Misha
replied.  “What a big boy you are.” Then he realized he had no idea when his
son’s actual birthday was.  “And when will you be four?” he asked with a smile.

            Samuel just shrugged.

            “Actually he will be
four in March,” Mrs. Weiss answered for Samuel.

            “My son’s birthday is
in March,” Misha said in the spirit of camaraderie. “His birthday is the
tenth.”

            “Samuel’s is the
sixteenth,” Mrs. Weiss revealed.

            Mrs. Weiss looked at
this man whom she had never seen before.  “Have you just come to America, Mr.…?”
she prompted, looking for a name.

Misha interrupted.
 “My name is Misha.  I have been here in New York on business.  I export
fabrics from Europe and the Far East.”

“Oh,” she said. “My
boarder’s brother-in-law has a fabric shop here.  How interesting.  His name is
Jacob Shearmon.  Do you call on him?”

“As a matter of
fact, I do.”

“Isn’t it a small
world?” she replied.

Meanwhile Samuel
had started pulling on Mrs. Weiss’s coat. “Can I have my ice cream, please?” he
asked.

“Of course,
Samuel,” she answered.

“I’ll be glad to
watch him while you run inside,” Misha offered.  “It is so beautiful out, and
being with him reminds me of my little boy back home.”

“That would be
fine,” she replied. “I’ll just be a minute.  He always gets a single scoop of
chocolate.”

The minute the
door closed behind Mrs. Weiss, Misha scooped up Samuel and started walking
around the corner.

“You’re such a big
boy, little Misha.”  He whispered in Samuel’s ear.

“Put me down,
please.” Samuel protested.  “We need to go back so I can have my ice cream.”

“In a minute, Misha,”
Misha responded, as he ushered him into the train station to take the train to
the ferry.

Inside the terminal,
Misha put him down and leaned down to talk to him. “Misha,” he started. “We are
going on a trip. We will take a big ship to Russia where you will have a whole
new life with me. I am your father, Misha.  We will be together always.”

Samuel was petrified.
“No,” he shouted and started to cry.  “Mama says my father is in heaven.  I
want to go home.  Take me home.”

“Be quiet, Misha,”
he said sternly. “You must not cry. “

Samuel couldn’t
help it.  He started to cry louder, “I want my mama.  I want my mama.”

People were
starting to stare. Misha slapped him hard on his behind. “Stop crying, Misha. You
must be quiet.”

Samuel was startled.
 No one had ever hit him before. He tried to control his crying. Misha took his
hand and started to pull him along.  Samuel tried to pull back, but, Misha was
too strong.  Misha purchased two tickets and they boarded the train.  Samuel
cried for a long time until he finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

When they got to
the stop where they would take the ferry, they disembarked.  There was a hotel
in the area where Misha had reserved a room.  He stopped for food along the way
and took it with him to the hotel room where they would spend the next two
nights under fictitious names until the ship was ready to sail on Monday.

The child would
only answer to the name “Samuel.”  Misha knew he had to be patient. He had
finally calmed him down enough to eat some dinner.  Now he was asleep.  Misha
looked at him.  He was amazed at the feelings he could have for this little
child.  Aside from his feelings for Rebekah, he had never felt anything
resembling love before.