Job by Joseph Roth Read Free Book Online

“So we’ll leave next week!”
    Thus she traveled to Kluczýsk, to the unearthly Kapturak. She would much rather have gone to the rabbi, for certainly one word from his holy, thin mouth was worth more than Kapturak’s patronage. But the rabbi didn’t receive anyone between Easter and Pentecost, except in urgent matters of life and death. She met Kapturak in the tavern, where he was sitting and writing, surrounded by peasants and Jews, in the corner by the window. His open cap, with the lining turned upward, lay on the table beside the papers like an outstretched hand, and many silver coins already rested in the cap and attracted the eyes of all the onlookers. Kapturak checked them from time to time, though he knew that no one would dare steal from him even one kopeck. He wrote applications, love letters and postal orders for every illiterate – (he could also pull teeth and cut hair).
    â€œI have an important matter to discuss with you,” Deborah said over the heads of the onlookers. Kapturak pushed all the papers away from him with one stroke, the people scattered, he reached for the cap, poured the money into his empty hand and tied it into a handkerchief. Then he invited Deborah to sit down.
    She looked into his hard little eyes as into rigid light-colored buttons made of horn. “My sons have been conscripted!” she said. “You are a poor woman,” said Kapturak with a remote singing voice, as if he were reading from the cards. “You have not beenable to save any money, and no one can help you.” “But I have saved.” “How much?” “Twenty-four rubles and seventy kopecks. I’ve already spent one ruble of that to see you.” “So that makes twenty-three rubles!” “Twenty-three rubles and seventy kopecks!” corrected Deborah. Kapturak raised his right hand, spread the middle and index fingers and asked: “And two sons?” “Two,” whispered Deborah. “Just one already costs twenty-five!” “For me?” “For you too!” They bargained for half an hour. Then Kapturak declared himself content with twenty-three for one. At least one! thought Deborah.
    But on the way back, as she sat on Sameshkin’s cart and the wheels jolted her intestines and her poor head, the situation seemed to her still more miserable than before. How could she choose between her sons? Jonas or Shemariah? she asked herself tirelessly. Better one than both, said her intellect, lamented her heart.
    When she arrived home and began to report Kapturak’s judgment to her sons, Jonas, the older, interrupted her with the words: “I’ll gladly join the army!” Deborah, the daughter Miriam, Shemariah and Mendel Singer waited as if they were made of wood. Finally, when Jonas said nothing more, Shemariah said: “You are a brother! You are a good brother!” “No,” replied Jonas, “I want to join the army.”
    â€œPerhaps you will be released in half a year!” their father consoled.
    â€œNo,” said Jonas, “I don’t want to be released at all! I’m staying with the army!”
    All murmured the bedtime prayer. Silently they undressed. Then Miriam went in her shirt on coquettish toes to the lamp and blew it out. They lay down to sleep.
    The next morning Jonas had disappeared. They searched for him all morning. Not until late in the evening did Miriam catch sight of him. He was riding a white horse, wearing a brown jacket and a soldier’s cap.
    â€œAre you already a soldier?” Miriam called.
    â€œNot yet,” said Jonas, stopping the horse. “Say hello to Father and Mother. I’m staying with Sameshkin temporarily, until I report for duty. Tell them I couldn’t stand it at home, but I’m very fond of you all!”
    Then he whistled with a willow rod, pulled on the reins, and rode on.
    From that point on, he was the driver Sameshkin’s