Katerina by Aharon Appelfeld Read Free Book Online Page A

she didn’t know how right she was. At Hanukkah, hooligans burst out of the tavern and ransackedJewish stores. The snow was deep, roads were cut off, and the cry for help went unheard. The toughs did their bloody work without hindrance. They didn’t spare women or old people. Their cries rose up to the heavens, but no one came to their aid.
    The next day the police counted twenty-one dead, including three children. Rosa had protected her little store with fierce tenacity, but the hooligans were stronger than she was and they strangled her.
    I shall never forget that funeral in the snow. The dead outnumbered their mourners. Snow fell without letup, and the silence was like ice. The peasants shut themselves up in their homes like wild beasts in their lairs. I hugged the children to my breast and swore on Rosa’s grave that I wouldn’t abandon them.
    Sometimes it seems that time has stopped its flow: I am still at home, by the sink, washing their shirts, polishing their shoes, and escorting them to school. The air outdoors is clear. The years have only sharpened its clarity. My love for Benjamin did not flag and wasn’t forgotten. I see him sometimes very distinctly, but Rosa is closer to me, like a sister. With her I can converse at any time, for hours. And always, it is as though she is sitting by my side. A kind of untarnished practicality. Once, I was unable to value that forthrightness properly. Now I know, you, my dear ones, are my root on this earth. I have served in many homes during my long life, I have loved many people and some of them loved me, but from you, Rosa, I drew strength and patience.
    Now, almighty God, no other soul is close to me on this earth. They’ve all perished in horrible deaths. Now they arestored up only within me. At night I feel them. They crowd in close to me, together, and with all my strength I try to protect them. All the people around here are informers and wicked. No one is upright and no one is merciful.
    Sometimes I hear their voices, quiet, but very clear. I understand every word. The link hasn’t been severed, thank God, and we continue our long summer conversations, the good winter conversations, and you, my sons, Abraham and Meir, your ironed uniforms, your briefcases strapped to your backs, your fine report cards—you’re all within me. The years have not made you part from me. Now I am here and you are there, but not far away and not estranged.

7
    A UTUMN CAME ON TIME , and Chamilio brought me two baskets of provisions. His expression is mute and concentrated, as if his will has been completely effaced. His closeness embarrasses me. And though he’s barely human any longer, he’s more than human. Thank you, Chamilio, for taking such trouble. God bless you, I want to shout out loud. He puts the provisions down in the pantry and goes out to chop firewood for me.
    The autumn is showing itself in my legs. The rain isn’t abundant, but it’s constant. Without a stove lit, a person could freeze in his house. For a long while Chamilio toils at arranging the house. In the end he leaves without saying anything. “My angel, many thanks to you,” I call to him with all my strength. Now, for some reason, it seems to me that he has caught my shout.
    For entire days I am alone. I light the stove, and the smell of the wood on the fire brings me back to the scattered regions of my life. Again I am in Strassov, the orphans are with me, everyone deep in mourning, and no one comes tovisit. A moist silence swaddles us together on the floor. At night hooligans run riot in the street and shout: “Death to the merchants, death to the Jews.” Weiss’s leather shop has been smashed open all along the front, the merchandise stolen, but the smell of leather remains and wafts up from it. The odor drives me out of my mind.
    The last days, I felt, had changed me. A kind of trembling coursed through my fingers, and I knew that if one of those toughs broke in, I’d deal with him the way my