58

The World Isn’t Ending Yet

E. had a proposal to offer me. Earlier he had asked me what my instinctives told me. Seeing that my instinctives were silent, he told me what his instinctives had to say:

“My instinctives tell me that you are the right person for me in every aspect. Taking into account all of your behavior, you appear to be a fine fräulein who comes from a good family. Something about you is very attractive. I want to make you glücklich, you would be very happy. I would give you my name, introduce you to my friends, and take you on a Lustreise to Germany after the war is over.”

“Mr. Eshkin—”

“I beg your pardon, but let me speak. You must know that I have thought long and hard about this and I have decided that I must speak to you. What does my landlady say? She is a plain woman but a clever one. She says, ‘Making a match is not eating a bagel.’ That’s true, but—”

“But—”

“I beg your pardon, but I’m the one who’s talking. When I’ve finished you may say what you want. When you interrupt me I forget what it is that I am saying, and I might forget to say what is very important for both of us. What I want to ask you now is this: Would you help me to go into business? Not help me with the work, that is, but with the Geld. Let me assure you, I’m not only interested in money. I am looking for the right person. You are a gracious, upstanding person in the full sense of the word. But don’t you know that it wouldn’t take anything away from how wonderful a person you are if you have something more? In these times—”

“Mr. Eshkin, I beg you!”

“Wait, I haven’t finished. In these times, when you have no Geld then you are poor, and a poor man might as well be dead man. He’s as good as tot.”

I corrected his pronunciation of the word toyt, dead. He took this as an admission that I too was poor, and dead.

“Well, liebes Fräulein,” he said with regret, “I am very sorry for you, but it hardly matters. You are a good person. But you have no Geld! Money is spent, but the person remains. I am a gentleman and my word is my word. I promised my landlady, as she lives and breathes to tell you all this, and I’m telling you just what I told her I’d say. So what do you think? You may speak now.”

“You truly are a gentleman,” I said, “and, therefore, I regret to inform you that I am no longer available. I have already promised myself to someone else.”

“What? You’re already engaged? Impossible!” he cried.

“Why is it impossible?”

“Ach, how can this be? My landlady told me that your landlady told her that you weren’t engaged. You must know. You really must have known.”

“Know what?”

“You must have known that I was coming to see you because I was interested in you as a potential bride. But all along you were engaged to someone else! It’s unbelievable. Then who is your fiancé?”

“He’s not here right now. He is—traveling.”

“Why did he go away?”

“For—business.”

“What kind of business does he have?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Is he coming back? Or are you going to him?”

“We have to write to each other to figure that out.”

“And I made you a proposal! How can such a thing have happened! Why didn’t you say something?”

“I wanted to say something, but you wouldn’t let me speak.”

“I see, I see . . .”

My landlady’s sister from Brownsville made a special trip to New York to talk about me.

“What’s wrong? What didn’t you like about him?” she demanded of my landlady. “What was wrong with him? He seems like a wonderful man, a good man, without any pretentions. He’s educated, he comes from fine parents, he speaks German, he understands business, there’s so much to recommend him. Right now, he sings! Come the holidays, he makes good money singing khazones. How can you not like him? Where’s the logic in that?”

I was very curious to hear how my landlady would answer. She responded, “The logic is that the question itself is foolish. Anyone with a head on her shoulders could see what a crooked deal it was and would try to peddle that shliumper as a match somewhere else! How could you even think of speaking to a girl with a figure as straight as a pine tree, a beautiful girl, about a man who could go for a walk under a table wearing a top hat and still have room to spare?”

“Pfui!” spat her sister. “Do you see what problem she has with the man? She thinks the bride is too pretty for him! Pity the girl who looks for a husband prettier than she is. These days an older girl who finds herself among strangers should open both hands wide to the heavens and thank God above that a man with so many advantages is interested in her. There aren’t many men interested in marrying at all these days, and if she waits a while longer there’ll be even fewer. The shortage is getting bigger every day. Soon the war will be over, and there will be even more women falling over themselves to find such a man! I swear, you mustn’t be so picky or overthink it. Just close your eyes and take what you can get, because soon it won’t be there at all.”

My landlady replied, “Never mind what you say, there will still be something. The world isn’t ending yet, and it’s ten times better to think anything over before you do it once and for all. God is a Father who sends every spinner his wool, every weaver his flax, or every wool her spinner, every flax her weaver, as the case may be. And you can’t put a peacock in the same wagon as a billy goat. It’s very hard to find an equal, fitting match. But there’s no need to just snatch up whatever you can find. We’re not talking about hot noodles here. God will send a better match for a better girl. And the man won’t go to waste. He’ll find a different girl too.”

That’s how my landlady sided with me against her sister and the “groom.” It was very interesting to hear, but I had to leave them in the middle of their conversation and hurry to my room because Mr. Finkin had come to call on me.