(Author: Gita Gordon, Vol. 67, No. 3, Chanukah 2012)
Pesach … the family sitting around the table …. on one side the boys Jack, David, Joseph, Samuel and Isaac. The girls sat opposite. Frieda, Bertha, Ethel and Rose. At the head of the table, her husband, Pinchas, the only member of the family to retain the name he was called by in the shtetl. The children had been given their new names on the day they had begun school. She had changed very gradually, from Feigy to Fanny. But Pinchas remained Pinchas
At that moment the sound that Fanny dreaded began, her husband gasping for breath. The children were silent. They too knew what this meant. Fanny fought to keep calm, fought to help her husband to breathe normally. Fear coursing through her, she spoke soothingly to him. Fanny called for Frieda to bring a cup of steaming water to place before him. Slowly he began to take short breaths, and as she spoke soothing words to him, his ragged breathing became normal.
Fanny said, “This has gone on for long enough. We are going to the doctor.”
As usual, Pinchas responded with, “What will we use for money, to pay him?”
Two days later Fanny went to the pawn shop. She took her Shabbos dress, the last remaining memory of the place they had left behind, and glanced at the pitiful few coins she had obtained. Soon they would be gone, to pay the doctor. Then she went home and together with a still protesting Pinchas, made her way to the small end terrace where the doctor had his rooms. The rain had become a soft drizzle and they removed their wet outer garments and sat on the old wooden chairs. To their surprise, the room was empty. Did that mean the doctor was away? Then there was a clatter of footsteps, a young boy ran out and they heard the doctor’s voice. “Next”.
The walk through the rain, had not been good for Pinchas, and once again he began to gasp for breath.
“Ah, so that’s the trouble is it?” said the doctor. “And if I am not mistaken this has been going on for some time now. Correct?” Fanny answered in the affirmative, as Pinchas was unable to do anything but struggle to breathe. “Why didn’t you come to me earlier?”
Fanny looked at him wordlessly. How could she explain the hopelessness of their situation? Since arriving in this forsaken place from their small shtetl in Lithuania Pinchas, the proud carpenter, no longer worked for himself, but for others. He spent his hours in a room packed with people, and wood, and dust, and glue, and at the end of the week received a pittance. They lived in two small rooms. There never seemed to be sufficient money for food, let alone clothing for the children, and a day away from work meant less money, the risk of no job at all. What then?
The doctor continued without waiting for a response. “There is nothing I can do, so I don’t suppose it makes any difference. What he needs is a warm climate, not this rain and fog and cold. It’s the colonies he needs, somewhere like the Cape Colony. Yes, that’s it, the Cape Colony. Got a letter just last week from a young man – couldn’t do anything for him either. Now a year later he writes that in the Cape he is quite free from problems. Making a good living too, it seems. That’s my advice to you. Go to the colonies. Sixpence please. Next”.
Fanny handed over the money, and they left. The waiting room was empty. She wanted to sit down and remain sitting. What use to her was the doctor’s advice? Her Shabbos dress gone, for useless advice? How could she travel with a sick husband and ten children on a ship to a strange place? Where would they find the money? How could she endure another sea voyage traveling steerage? The journey to England had been horrific, but they had been young and healthy and full of hope and the journey had only been for five days. The Cape Colony was so far away. How long would such a journey take? No, it was out of the question. Pinchas had never been ill in Kovno. They would return to Kovno. There he would get well. There he would once again work for himself. Yes, it was time to go home. She had been writing falsely cheerful letters to her mother ever since they had arrived. Now was the time to tell the truth.
First, they must get home. Then she must make food for the children, from what? The money was gone. The doctor had it. They walked home slowly. They opened the door and heard the oldest two boys talking.
“Don’t tell mother we didn’t go to school this afternoon.” Jack’s voice came from the corner of the room,” and in reply his brother David: “What, how then will we explain where we got these vegetables?”
“Listen, just say we met old man Cohen and he gave them as a present. No need for anyone to know we helped with the horses and the deliveries.”
“Can we go again?”
Just then the boys became aware that they were no longer alone. “Never lie to me. Is that clear? Never lie to me ever again” Fanny lashed out. This was just too much for her. What kind of children was she bringing up here? No, they must leave and the sooner the better.
The bundle of vegetables lay by the side of the small stove. Well that was one problem solved. “Tell me how you helped, while I use what you brought home to make soup. Tell me everything. How long has this been going on? David, you help your father to bed. He isn’t well. Jack stand here, and tell me what you have been up to.”
Jack stretched out his hand and gave his mother three shiny pennies. “We help every Thursday afternoon. We write a note to the teacher and say we have to stay home, we write down your name on it.” Fanny took the money and called out. “David, when your father is settled run to the butcher and ask for bones for the soup. The girls will be home from school soon. I don’t want them to hear what you have been up to. Jack, you stay here.”
Jack knew that now everything would have to be told. He wished his mother hadn’t heard his words. He wished…oh what was the use of wishing. He began to talk, dreading the consequences.
“It began when school started last year. We always passed the stables just as Mr. Cohen was taking the horses out. So, well, you know how I like horses, well so, the one horse was giving trouble and I patted it and I stroked it and then Mr. Cohen harnessed it while I was talking. Then on my way home from school that day he said he could do with some help, especially on Thursday afternoons when he goes to the smart areas on the West Side. So then I started helping. Then one week I didn’t go. It was fun riding on the cart, but I was worried, about the teacher noticing that every week on a Thursday I was away. So then when I was passing by the next day Mr. Cohen spoke to me. He said it made everything go much more quickly when I rode with him, and he was making more money and he would pay me if I could bring another boy along. Well, that’s when David came along also.”
“How come today you brought vegetables. Why never before?” Fanny said, looking at the pile next to the sink.
“Oh no, we always got vegetables, the leftovers, the ones he couldn’t sell, but usually we met the girls on the way home from the market and they just added it to their bundles.”
Fanny felt as if she wanted to faint. The whole family was leading a life of deceit and she was blind to it.
“What about the money? You said he agreed to pay you.”
“Yes, thruppence a time, for each of us.” “And what did you do with the money?” Now there was a pause. It grew longer.
“Tell me. I’m asking you. Food he gave you, and you brought it home. What did you do with the money?”
“Stamps” was the answer.
“What do you mean, stamps? Who do you write to?”
“No, stamps that have already been used. People collect stamps. My teacher told us one day. He showed us his stamp collection. So I found the shop where you can buy them. I bought a few, but then I thought of a better idea. I used the money for tram fare. I traveled to the places where men work in big rooms. I asked from room to room asking if they threw away their letters with stamps and they did, so then I asked if they would keep them for me. Some said they would, and each week I go and collect them”.
“For these useless stamps, you work?”
“Yes, and I put them in my book, a special book for stamps, in a special way so that the stamps are not spoiled, so they are worth money.”
“That book is worth money?”
“Oh yes, definitely, lots and lots,” Jack said confidently.
Could it be true? How much money could it be worth? Sufficient to pay for the fare to the Cape Colony? No, surely not. Sufficient to pay half, or a quarter? No, that couldn’t be possible. But it was clearly worth something. How much? Where to get a fair price? How to tell Jack he would have to part with it? What would tickets cost? Not steerage, but third class. She had heard people talk. There was third class. It was simple but acceptable, not like steerage, where there was no separation between men and women, and the food doled out from large buckets. She had endured that for four days on the voyage to London. She could not endure it for four weeks as the ship made its way far down south. More to the point, Pinchas would not survive such a voyage. The money would have to be found and quickly, sufficient money so that though they would travel steerage, Pinchas would not.
The following morning as the children walked to the door she pulled Jack back. “No, today you will come with me. Go get your book, the one with the stamps, the one you say is worth money.”
Jack came a few moments later with his precious stamp album. He looked none too happy. Fanny felt a moment of pity for him. Then she thought of the deception he had engaged in, and she hardened herself and said, “Come. We will first go to the shipping lines and find out how much the fare is to the
Cape Colony. Then we will go to that stamp shop you spoke about, and see what the book is worth.”
Fanny hoped that by speaking confidently she would feel some sense of hope. In truth she felt only fear and hopelessness. The shipping offices were not easy to find. It involved asking many people, until at last someone directed them to the correct address. Once there her courage almost failed her when she saw the notice on the wall: “Castle Line. EXTRA INTERMEDIATE STEAMER FOR LONDON. TO CAPE TOWN. Leaving on the 9th October. Calling at Madeira. Fare Guineas first, 23 Guineas second and 10 Guineas third class. Steerage 2 Guineas”.
That would be in five days-time. Five days. That could be easily done, there was so little to pack, but where would she find 110 guineas? Perhaps for children they would charge less? Feeling that the world was crashing down on her, but with nothing to lose Fanny walked up to the heavy wooden counter, where a bored looking clerk was standing.
“What is the fare, third class, for children?’ she said pointing at the sign.
“How many, what ages?”
Fanny reeled off their ages.
“You mean that ship, the one leaving on Wednesday?” “Fanny nodded, it was hopeless, but still she nodded.
“Well we have two cabins left, small ones, each with three bunks. If you could all fit in there, the children sleeping two to a bunk I could do it for sixty guineas. But I will need the money today. I can’t keep it for you. First come first served it is.”
Fanny mumbled. I will be back soon. “Sixty guineas was better than 110, but still an impossible sum. “Come, now we go to that stamp shop” She said to Jack. The walk seemed endless. Eventually they came to a narrow lane. “Here we are” said Jack and walked up a flight of narrow, dirty steps.
The shop was small. The man behind the counter seemed to emerge slowly from the gloom. Jack placed his precious stamp album on the counter. “How much will you pay me for this?” he said. He knew the true value of the book. He talked about his new acquirements with his schoolteacher, and then carefully tallied it up. The man looked through the book. It appeared he was carelessly flipping through, but years of practice meant that he could rapidly assess the value of anything placed before him. “Ten quid” he said.
Jack wanted to grab the book back. ‘Mother, it is worth much more. Please can we take it and go now?” he said. Fanny nodded. Disappointment seeped through her. Such unrealistic hopes she had nurtured for a short while. As they went out the door she said to Jack, in despair, “Where will we get sixty guineas?”
The man heard only the words “sixty guineas”. Had someone else offered them such a vast sum? Perhaps he should have looked more carefully. Perhaps there had been something of great value he had missed. In any event, the true price of the book was about that. Had he made a mistake by offering such a low price?”
“Young man”, he called out, “Perhaps I should look again at the book”.
Jack was angry. The man was trying to cheat him. It was bad enough to be forced to give up his collection, but to be swindled in such a fashion. That was unbearable. He would go to his schoolteacher. He would see if he wanted to buy some of the stamps. Perhaps he would know of others who would buy. It would take time, but he would not be swindled in this manner. “No. I know where to get the price I want. We will not do business, you and I”.
The confident tone of the boy made the man even more determined. Clearly, he had missed a bargain. “Sixty guineas’ he had heard. So that was what they had already been offered. He would offer a bit more. He would get his hands on that book.
“Sixty two guineas I’ll give you. I am just a sentimental fool, but it seems to be you me that you are in need of the money, and the heavens will reward me for my good deed.”
Jack couldn’t work out what caused this sudden change, but this was clearly a good sale, a sale worth making, though it pained him to part with his collection. He turned around, placed the book on the counter, and held it down firmly. “I accept. Sixty-two guineas you said. I will take it now.”
The money and the book changed hands. Fanny and Jack made their way back to the shipping office, and paid the fare. For both, the day was beginning to take on an air of unreality. Like sleepwalkers they handed over the money, accepted the tickets and made their way out of the office.
They walked side by side, silently, each with their own painful thoughts. Jack was elated at the good price they had received for his album, and amazed by the fact that he alone had paid the fares for all his family. At the same time he was devastated by the loss of his fine collection. Then he began to think of a sea voyage and a new land. Excitement began to build up, slowly pushing away all thoughts of his stamps.
Fanny was afraid. Afraid of the decision she had made on her own, without even involving Pinchas. Would the sea voyage be too much for him? Would he be cured in that faraway land? Would there be a need for men of his trade? What would their fate be? Fanny waited until the children were asleep, the house quiet. Then she said to Pinchas,”Soon you will be well. We are going to the Cape Colony where the sun always shines and you will recover there. The doctor said so.”
Pinchas, exhausted from work, gray faced, tired beyond endurance, said weakly, “But money?”
Fanny was relieved that it hadn’t been an outright “no”. She said, “We have a clever son. Do you know that Jack has been collecting old used stamps? Worthless, wouldn’t you think? But no, they are worth money, a lot of money. So they have been sold and now we are booked to leave next week on a fine ship. Not like we traveled here, all together at the bottom of the ship, but in two fine cabins. Now what do you think of that?”
“Good boy Jack” wheezed her husband
By Tuesday night everything was ready for departure. The fine wooden trunk was filled to the brim with their goods. The children were neatly dressed. They had missed school for that day to help with the preparations. On their last day at school, Fanny had seen to it that each child handed their teacher a letter thanking them and wishing them farewell.
Now all they had to do was make their way to the place on the Thames where their boat was docked.
It would leave before dawn the next day and passengers had been told to board the previous evening. This was a new venture. Ships usually left from Southampton. The captain of the vessel wanted the boarding to be done under cover of the night, and the navigating on the river to be done, on the following day, before dawn, while there was little traffic. It had been arranged with Jack’s erstwhile employer, the vegetable seller, to take the family and their baggage to the place on the Thames where the ship was docked. He arrived at the end of his working day as dusk arrived and just as Fanny was beginning to think he would let them down. Soon the family and their goods were piled on the wagon and heads poked out of windows and waved their goodbyes.
The ship was waiting on the Thames. The adventure that lay before them became a reality. They crowded into the two small cabins, and after some time, tired by the long day, they fell asleep.
The children woke, whispering to one another that surely the ship was moving. The rocking of the ship was different, no longer so gentle. The noise outside was of the cawing of sea gulls. From the portholes, a stiff breeze blew into the cabins.
Fanny peered into the next-door cabin and saw Pinchas was just waking. She put her hand to his head and was relieved to find that there was no fever
After weeks of living on the rocking waves of the sea, it was the stillness that woke Fanny. The ship hardly seemed to be moving. She quietly went to the small porthole and then saw a sight that made her gasp. All around, the water was still. In the distance the sun was not yet risen, but a cool gray color shimmered over everything and beyond the sea was land, palm trees, and behind them buildings and then, like the back drop of a stage, a tall mountain with a flat top, and slowly coming over the mountain, a thick white cloud.
Fanny peeped in to the next cabin and saw the Pinchas was sleeping peacefully. In spite of the crowded conditions, he was looking better. His breathing was normal. Color had returned to his cheeks. He had even gained some weight, in spite of the dull, monotonous fare that had been provided.
Fanny had spent the previous night making sure that the outfit for each child was spruce, clean and ironed. She had laid them carefully one on top of the other in a corner she had cleared specially for this purpose. Now she took her own outfit and dressed quickly and went on board. Only a few passengers were there, but the sailors were everywhere, moving swiftly, quietly, from deck to rigging
A woman came up to her. “So good to be back”, She said, “You are new here? I have been away for more than a year, but now at last I have returned. See there, Table Mountain is getting a tablecloth. That means the South-Easter will be blowing today, clearing the air of all bad miasmas. We call the wind the Cape Doctor. It keeps us well, better than any quack with his potions and lotions.”
Now, Fanny hurried down, back to their cabins. She felt young again, invigorated, ready to start a new, good life. The doctor said Pinchas would be well in the Colonies.
On the deck above, as the ship slowly began to dock, Fanny, Pinchas and the children stood spellbound and silent gazing at the mountain, the cloud cover, the small houses on the hillside, and the great waving palm trees on the shore line.
By the time the ship had reached the harbor wall the sun had risen. On the quayside a scurrying mass of humanity in a variety of clothing and differing skin hues moved around in seeming chaos. Yet the ship was brought to the side and tied up, and the anchor was dropped, and the gangplank fixed into place with great efficiency. People below were shouting now, calling out names of their family, suddenly spotting someone, and waving frantically. Oh, how Fanny wished there was someone to call to them in that way.
They set about getting their things together and leaving the ship. A sailor called at their cabin and offered his assistance. Soon they were on the quayside in a huge building with a fierce official questioning them. However, he seemed to find their papers in order and their answers satisfactory and then they were through the ordeal of customs and surrounded by a hubbub of voices. A man came up to them and said. “New here? Need a ride with your things? Need a place to go to?” Barely waiting for an answer he swooped down and lifted up their wooden trunk. “Wait here. I’ll be back for the rest of the things”, he shouted out.
Fanny felt a sense of panic at seeing the trunk disappear into the crowd. “Jack, David, go with him, Follow him. Wait with our things until we come”, she said. The boys, bored with all the process of landing, scooted after him. They were from the East End of London. Such crowds they were used to. The found the man loading their trunk onto a cart. He spotted them and shouted down, “Right young fellows, run to your parents, and say we will be with them in a minute”.
“David, why is he standing on the cart, the reins in his hands? He looks as if he wants to leave straight away. Why isn’t he sitting down, waiting?” Jack hissed at his brother.
David looked up, troubled by the same thought. “What do we do now?”
Jack was already moving towards the horses, making low soothing noises, patting them gently, and moving his hands towards the harness.
“Quickly get mother. Tell her to leave everything and come here.”
Now he was loosening the harness, almost completely so that only a bit of leather remained inside.
The man was shouting at him now. “Get away from the horse. He will hurt you. Horses bite and kick, you know.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Jack shouted up. Horses I know about. Now his hand was moving to the other side of the bridle, repeating the process. Slowly, very slowly, he moved downwards, working as fast as he could, until the man shouted. “Stand away, or you will be hurt. “ Jack smiled to himself but followed the instructions. The man picked up a whip and made a great cracking sound over the animal. The horse pulled away, and suddenly the man was being pulled off the cart pulled along the ground, shouting in pain and calling out, “Whoa! Whoa!”
Just at that moment Fanny and David arrived. Jack gave a piecing whistle, and the horse came to a halt. It seemed that horses in this place responded to the same signals as they had in London. The man got to his feet. His clothes were torn. His face and knees were scraped. “What the dickens were you doing to my horse?” he said.
A crowd had gathered now, and were watching and listening.
“Me?” Jack said, “What could I possibly do to your horse? Looks to me as though you didn’t do a very good job with the harness and reins.”
Fanny saw Jack look at her and wink. She took up the matter. “Where were you going? You have our trunk there, and you said you were coming back for us. Where did you think we would all fit in?
Seems to me that the cart is only big enough to hold the trunk” The man looked unhappy. The crowd was following every word.
After some moments the man answered, “My mate. Oh I was going for my mate, to bring another cart to collect the rest of you.”
“Well now. I will wait here. You better walk, while we remain with the cart. Fetch your mate, and his cart, and then we can all set off together, with my boys on your cart and the rest on the other one.”
“Right. I’ll just see to the harness and go off and get him.”
Fanny realized that their trunk was only standing safe on the cart because Jack had somehow managed to loosen the harness, holding the horse to the cart. Once they were reconnected, the man would surely take off, never to be seen again.
“No. My boy will make a better job of it then you did. You can walk to your friend. We will wait here with the cart, and our trunk.”
Suddenly there was a cry. “My horse and cart! It disappeared from the gates. I have been looking everywhere for it. How did it get here?”
It seemed as if the man with the torn suit was there one moment, and simply disappeared like a puff of smoke the next.
Now the crowd began giving advice.
“Chase him. He was trying to steal. Every time new immigrants arrive they come and steal from them”.
“What about stealing from me? What about stealing my horse and cart?” the recent arrival shouted. A well-dressed man walked up to the crowd. His authoritative manner made everyone quiet down. “What is going on here?” he said.
Fanny felt that at last someone had taken charge of an impossible situation. Quietly, she explained what had occurred.
“We won’t catch him now” he said, “Lucky he didn’t get away with your things. I came here to collect my cousins, and all I found was a passenger with a note to explain they had changed their mind, and used the money I sent them to go to America instead. So here I am, with a cart big enough for you and your luggage. Do you have more family members? Where are they?” Fanny pointed to Pinchas and the other children standing a little way off. “Right, young lad,” He said to Jack, “You go and collect them and soon we will be getting you away from all this.”
In this way, Fanny and her family were taken to a house in Kloof Street, a place prepared for a family to stay, with beds made up and food in the larder.
When rental was spoken of the man said, “For this week you are my guests. Later I will come and we will discuss how you will earn a living, and what you will pay for rent. Rest now from your unpleasant experience this morning. Were Jews not set upon the earth to be of help to one another?”
Later, much later, when the children had been taken for a walk to see their new surroundings, when some of their goods had been unpacked, when Fanny had made a good meal, Pinchas said to Fanny, “It seems that the time of miracles has not passed. Here we are in a fine home, with food and bedding provided, and we only have to begin paying rent next week. But where am I to find work? What will happen if there is no work for me?”
Fanny had been thinking similar thoughts, but she smiled and said, “If there are no more miracles, then we will have to make a plan. Are you not the finest of carpenters? As soon as you are well, you will find work. The doctor told you that you should live in a warm place, and that you should rest for some time until the cough has disappeared. Tomorrow that fine gentleman will come and speak to us of how a living can be earned. I am fit and well. The sea voyage was a wonderful holiday for me. Until you are well, I will earn for us, just as we have done in the past. Then, when you are well again you will find work.”
With those words, Fanny knew that in this new country she would have to be the breadwinner. She looked for courage from her small book of tehillim. While the household slept, and the sounds of the street drifted into the house, she sat by the light of a candle and read verse after verse, until at last, there was a spluttering sound and then darkness, and reluctant to use another candle, she ended her first day in the new land.
Gita Gordon is a novelist and essayist whose articles and stories on Jewish themes have appeared in Jewish publications worldwide. Her novels include: South African Journeys (2002), Flashback (2007), Mystery in the Amazon and Scattered Blossoms (both 2008). Her latest novel, Guest House, is published by Judaica Press.
