THE SYNAGOGUE SEEMED to Eizerman to be brighter, larger, and more dazzling than those in Miloslavka. When he and Uler walked in, evening prayers were already under way. Uler headed off somewhere and disappeared; Eizerman began to look around at the congregation and noticed several men among them wearing short jackets, dickeys, and trimmed side curls. No one paid them any special attention. . . . Turning around, Eizerman suddenly found himself looking right at Sheinburg. . . . He was standing by the east wall,1 next to an old Jew in a yarmulke2 wearing a long satin frock coat, and he was coldly, haughtily staring at Eizerman.
He was embarrassed and dropped his eyes, afraid to give away his terrible secret. But he couldn’t restrain himself from glancing again in Sheinburg’s direction. He was now engaged in conversation with his neighbor. He was talking rather loudly, with a note of indignation in his voice and with vigorous gestures. From the individual words that reached him, Eizerman concluded that Sheinburg was complaining about the head of the synagogue.
“If they only knew,” he reflected with a sinking heart.
Suddenly, aside from his own will and consciousness, like something tantalizing and terrifying, a thought occurred to him: “What if I now walked to the middle of the synagogue and shouted loudly, ‘Listen, Jews! This young man here is not the devout Jew he pretends to be—but the most dreadful freethinker, denying God and the Torah. He mocks you all in freethinking newspapers!’ What would happen then?”
Eizerman recoiled in horror at the thought and instinctively covered his mouth with his hand.
Someone poked him with his elbow. Turning around, he saw Uler leaving the synagogue and followed after him.
“Well, I exchanged glances with Gigel,” Uler informed him. “He’ll come to the Ore Miklet, too.”
When the two friends passed through the market, a young Jew emerged from one of the small shops, pointed at Uler, and cried out in fury, “There he is, that apostate, that scoundrel! May the earth swallow him up!”
“Shhh! What do you want?” cried Uler, shrinking back in fear.
“I want you to break your neck, you dog!” he cried.
Turning to address the neighboring shopkeepers who’d responded to his cry, he continued with indignation, “Do you see that lice-ridden scamp? It isn’t enough he eats pork, smokes on the Sabbath, and sleeps with all the young women in the Christian quarter—he also deals in denunciations! He should be destroyed like a rabid dog!”
At the shopkeeper’s first words, Uler quickly bent down and picked up a stone. He was convinced that the attacker was a religious fanatic and decided to threaten him with a rock. But, on hearing the word “denunciation,” he was dismayed, dropped his hand, and looked around in confusion.
“ ‘Denunciation’? What are you talking about?” he muttered, taken aback. “You’ve lost your mind. . . .”
“No, you’ll lose your mind in a moment, you traitor to Israel!” replied the shopkeeper.
“I’ll smash your head with a stone!” Uler suddenly cried in fury and hurled himself at the shopkeeper. “Tell me, whom did I denounce?”
The frightened shopkeeper darted back into his shop but immediately came rushing back out.
“Don’t threaten me with a stone! I’m not afraid of your stone, you scamp!”
“Tell me, whom did I denounce?” Uler said, advancing on him.
“Not only will I tell you, I’ll shout it out! I’ll shout it to the whole town, you murderer! You informed on my aunt Feiga Mikhoels’s son!”
“Where? When?” asked Uler, again taken aback.
“Yesterday, you apostate! Last night, you debaucher! You ran to my aunt’s shop three times, first to buy bread, then matches, then herring! You knew, you mercenary creature, that her son was trying to escape military service3—you were tracking him down. May worms track down your accursed soul!”
“It’s terrible, just terrible! He should be torn to pieces!” shouted indignant voices from the crowd.
“Do you understand what happened?” the shopkeeper addressed the crowd. “At midnight this traitor to Israel knocked on the door, as if in search of matches. As soon as he left, the police came and arrested the young man! This villain murdered, slaughtered the poor, unfortunate widow.”
“Damn it!”
Uler spat in the shopkeeper’s face and so shocked them all that the crowd parted to let him through. Only after he’d moved several dozen or so paces away did the threats and curses rain down on him again.
Uler was deeply agitated and walked quickly. The frightened and distraught Eizerman could hardly keep up with him.
When the two friends had turned into another street, Uler spoke up with emotion.
“How do you like that? Do you understand what happened? This Feiga Mikhoels, a shopkeeper, lives not far from Mirkin. Feiga has a daughter, a young woman who studies and reads. Of course, it’s kept secret from her mother. We often drop in, as if to buy something, and we try to see her on the sly. Yesterday I exchanged a book for her at the library. I didn’t have time to do it during the day, so I knocked at the door last night, as if in search of matches. . . . And this idiot decided that I’d informed on them. Ah, what a dog!”
“But now you’ll never be able to pass through the market again,” replied Eizerman.
“Why not? That’s a good one! I’ll intentionally walk past this shopkeeper later today. Let him try to call me an informer! I won’t leave any of his bones unbroken!”
After a little pause he added, “How else can I show that I’m not an informer?”
1. Jews in the Diaspora traditionally face east when praying to orient themselves toward Jerusalem; important people are honored by being given seats on the eastern wall of the synagogue.
2. A skull cap traditionally worn at all times by observant Jewish men, associated with demonstrating respect and reverence for God.
3. Conscription into the Russian army was first introduced by Peter I. The term of service was originally for life; it was gradually reduced, though in 1855 it was still twelve years.