Motal has been transformed into Okhrana-berg. It looks like a police academy or a barracks. This is surprising, since the curfew does not apply to half its population – the gentiles – who for some reason have not rushed to take over businesses and make a quick profit now that the Jews are absent. The market is shut and few people leave their homes. Motal is desolate. Without its Jews it is like a creature paralysed.
Agents enter homes and leave carrying kartoshkes and bottles of yash. Every now and again they take a golden candlestick, which the hosts complement with its matching partner, whatever it takes to make the agents leave.
Reb Moishe-Lazer Halperin passes between his congregants’ homes. He is the only Jew permitted to ignore the curfew on Prokor’s, that is Piotr Novak’s, orders. The rabbi expects to be welcomed as usual: the table set, a loaf of bread ready to be served and eyes hungry for his every word. But now, their faces, good grief, their faces are so grim. Disaster is about to strike the town; they can all sense the impending doom.
It didn’t take much for everyone to piece together the story. Without any experience in murder investigations, they linked Zvi-Meir Speismann’s disappearance with Fanny Keismann’s unpredictable nature and background in ritual slaughter, and came up with the solution for one of the most complex episodes in the history of the Russian Empire. “If only she had stayed put, none of this would have happened. And what good has come of it? She disgraced her family, leaving her home after midnight, God knows why, like a moonstruck spinster.”
Fearing Rivkah Keismann’s accusatory gaze, the rabbi has been steering clear of the Keismann household, where Mende has settled in with her children. Rivkah Keismann blames the rabbi for everything. If he hadn’t been duped by Akim and Prokor, Avremaleh and Pinchasaleh Rabinovits – names that are obviously false – the town would not have been put under siege. Rivkah did not ask for much from the rabbi. All she wanted was for her son to unite with his wife’s sister. And what did she get instead? A sword at her neck. How can she leave this world? God help her, she would have been better off dead.
People say: Rivkah Keismann is a strong woman.
The truth is: Rivkah Keismann is on the verge of collapse. Her son sits at the dining table from dawn to dusk, his head in his hands. He cannot tend to his flock, he is not allowed to mend the fences. He cannot even go out to empty his bowels without permission. Every now and again he chews a piece of bread, without cheese, looking as if at any given moment he might hurl the table at the wall and confront the agents outside. All this time Rivkah sits opposite him and does not budge. She is afraid that as soon as she takes her eyes off him, he will do something that they will all regret.
And what about the children? God help her. Unmanageable, wild, just like their mother. Most little ones wet themselves as soon as they hear the word “police”. But these children? They slip away from the house, crawl under fences, hide in bushes. They think this entire affair is a funny game. Forget about the younger ones, they’ll be fine as long as they don’t hurt themselves. Not even the most brutal of soldiers would treat a child like a criminal. But Gavriellah, the eldest? She’s eight years old already. “Grown girls” like her can be accused of conspiracy. And true enough, she disappears for hours on end. Where does she go? No one has any idea.
“Natan-Berl, where is Gavriellah?”
“Mmmm . . . ummm . . . Gavriellah? She’ll be fine.”
People say: Rivkah Keismann is a bitter woman.
The truth is, Rivkah Keismann was right all along. Fanny Keismann was nothing but trouble, and now everyone can see the outcome. Rivkah should probably have put her foot down from the very beginning, but she always tries to please everyone. Perhaps this is all her fault.
Mende Speismann locks herself away in her room. She is fuming. How could her younger sister humiliate her so publicly? Good God! Wasn’t Mende managing just fine, even without Zvi-Meir Speismann by her side? Did Mende behave like those miserable women who send a grovelling advertisement to Hamagid? Did she allow her name to appear below any news-paper headline that reads “Lost” or “Help”? Did she ask the entire world to take an interest in her private affairs?
Now her name will be known to all, read not in advertisements but in the news sections; not only in Hamagid but also in Ha-Melitz and in other newspapers, too. What did Mende do to her younger sister to deserve this torture? Is Fanny that jealous?
Mende is not one to return the offences she receives. She certainly does not seek retaliation at the children’s expense. There is only one thing on her mind right now: making sure that no child leaves the courtyard. Natan-Berl is immovable. Rivkah Keismann is with her in spirit but her flesh lacks the energy to chase after anyone. So Mende finds herself watching over her two fledglings and Fanny’s five jewels like a hawk.
Only Gavriellah escapes Mende’s watchful eye. In fact, even if Mende searched beyond the courtyard she would never have found her niece. Gavriellah has started spending long hours away from home and no-one in Motal could ever guess where. The place is quite central, in fact, just a quarter of a verst from Motal’s main square. And yet no-one has noticed her. Did she find a hiding place in an abandoned stork’s nest? If not, where is she?
Like the other children, Gavriellah has collected bits and pieces of the story here and there. But, unlike them, she has understood exactly what the details mean and striven to learn as much as she can about Zizek, her mother’s accomplice. She has found herself siding with the Berkovits and Avramson families and begun to feel a strong resentment for everyone else.
Leah Berkovits, a cantankerous old lady at the best of times, could not believe her eyes when she opened her door and found an eight-year-old child on her doorstep.
“What are you doing here, brat?” she screeched, mistaking Gavriellah for a boy, since the old lady’s eyesight – how should we put this – has seen better days.
“I have come to stay with you,” Gavriellah replied, and she did just that.
What did Gavriellah talk about with Leah? Not much. Like the Keismanns, the Berkovitses are not big talkers. What did they do, then? Well, they did what most other Motal residents do. They sat down, stood up, cleaned, ate, knitted, read, day-dreamed, dozed off, waited. They definitely did something, that’s for sure. After all, neither the old lady nor her son slammed the door in Gavriellah’s face as they have always done with everyone else. What is more, they let her call Leah Berkovits “Babushka”. And not only that, they let her stroke Leah’s rugged face, a face through which tears have dug indelible furrows.
“I have come to stay with you,” Gavriellah told them, and they let her in.