Between Sky and Sea Read online

  Nobody spoke to Mrs Fabyash. They didn’t even look in her direction so that she wouldn’t suspect anything. Quietly and with hurried steps they left the cabin.

  For a whole day they searched for Fabyash, calling out his name in case he might hear them, peering into every nook and corner, looking under cases and tarpaulins as if it was possible for him to be hiding there—but all was in vain. They even looked into the sea as if they expected to see him there. But the sea lay innocently and calmly holding the sun in its lap and playing hide-and-seek with it; it told them nothing. Not a sign of Fabyash was to be found anywhere. He had disappeared without leaving a trace.

  Although everyone guessed what had happened and knew that their work was useless, no one spoke openly of it and they silently continued to search for him as if they expected that after all they would still find him. Nobody went near his wife in the cabin for they didn’t know what to say to her. And what, after all, could be said? What news could they give her? Nobody wanted to be the bearer of sad news and each one waited for the next man to make a move and try to comfort her. They still waited—maybe a miracle would occur. Why should they run immediately and cause the woman unnecessary pain? What was the hurry? Nobody wanted to give up hope. They even announced to themselves that, after all, Fabyash might soon be found, that he would emerge from a corner and ask: ‘What has happened, people... Huh?’

  But Fabyash emerged from no corner and everyone missed him. This was not the first calamity that had occurred on the ship. More than one man had disappeared in broad daylight, yet no one was missed as much as Fabyash. They were so used to him. Just as at the beginning of the journey they had become accustomed to his alarms and warnings, so too later they had grown used to his silences, his self-torture and his avoidance of everything. His melancholia had been like a loud cry that demanded a response from everyone. In such a calamity as this, Fabyash would certainly have taken the part of a gloomy prophet and tormented everyone:

  ‘Well, didn’t I know that it would end like this?’ he would have taunted them. ‘I foresaw everything. We are all doomed. Our fate has been sealed.’

  After a day of searching for Fabyash the people went down to their cabins. The only lamp in the long, narrow passageway burnt dimly as if in mourning for someone and around it hung a damp, hot odour, while the door of Fabyash’s cabin was flung open as if someone had broken out by force. Mrs Fabyash was sitting alone on the edge of her bunk; with all that remained of her strength she had slid off her bunk, but her legs wouldn’t carry her when she had no one to support her and she had fallen back.

  They wanted to comfort her, to think up some story, but as soon as they met her eyes staring so intently and implacably with such cold, sober clarity, words failed them. Even Mrs Hudess who always told every person the blunt truth and was able to settle her own affairs—even she could not open her mouth and her tongue couldn’t form words when she met Mrs Fabyash’s eyes. She even had a lie ready and wore a smile on her open face, but the lie remained stuck in her throat and the smile froze on her face. Mrs Fabyash’s eyes gazed with such a merciless coldness and seemed to say that no one should trouble themselves to conceal the truth. It would be a waste of time. She knew everything. She pointed dumbly to her stricken legs and begged to be taken up on deck.

  But they didn’t want to do it and brushing aside her demand, they still attempted to conceal the truth from her. They were not certain, still hoping, still deluding themselves that the whole thing was a mistake. Wearily they sat down near Mrs Fabyash and, looking stiffly ahead, began to talk about other matters so as to banish Fabyash from their minds. They could certainly have saved him if only they had paid some attention to him. The thought gnawed at their hearts and weighed heavily on their consciences never leaving them for a second. They talked of various things, of their homes that had been destroyed, of the fate that had befallen so many enemies of Israel, ardent followers of Hitler—may God extinguish his very name! And of the fate that awaited Hitler who would suffer like the other Hamans who had tried to exterminate and destroy the Jewish people. They talked for so long that at length they came to the land to which they were travelling.

  Bronya Feldbaum said that in the new country she would open a confectionery shop. She said she would be good at that. Her black eyes glanced vivaciously and, stretching out her full, womanly throat, she said that she would always have a full shop for she knew how to attract young men and how to turn their foolish heads. Never again would she live on the land amongst peasants and ruin her remaining years. But her husband, Marcus, who generally remained silent interrupted her and would not let her finish.

  ‘And I will settle on the land, so long as I live!’ He became furious and his large, murky eyes wandered far away and became quite green and they reminded one of the Ukrainian fields whence he came.

  ‘I will work on the land! I won’t be talked out of that by anyone.’

  He said no more, unable to bring out any more words. Always calm, blunt and stolid, a man without any bitterness, his anger came very slowly and more than a few words he couldn’t muster. His wife had upset him, hoping to turn him away from what he wanted to do, to twist him round her finger as she was wont to do. And so he spoke of the soil in great righteousness and excitement but he didn’t know how to continue, what to say, to justify himself.

  But he had no need to justify himself because everybody understood him. Rockman agreed with him and wished that he, himself, knew something about the land. Then he would go to the country without asking anyone’s advice. But unfortunately nothing remained to him now but to start again in business.

  As they talked amongst themselves, discussing what they would do in the new land, Mrs Fabyash suddenly sighed deeply.

  ‘Ah, what misfortunes have befallen me!’ She had realised all the miseries that she would have to face alone.

  ‘Why did this have to happen to me, Almighty God? Why? Am I more sinful than others? It is more than a sick, broken woman can bear. It is too much for one person. Faithful Father in Heaven.’

  And she began to sob. She sobbed quietly and for a long time, and it seemed that all the tears that she had held back for so long had welled up in her and now poured out.

  Everyone else became silent; speech had disappeared. No other sounds were heard but the throbbing of the ship’s engines and the quiet, drawn-out, suppressed whimpering of Mrs Fabyash. The others became ashamed of themselves, of the idle talk they had indulged in. They were weighed down with guilt.

  But Mrs Fabyash did not stop; she made up for all the time that she had remained silent. Everything gathered together in one painful knot that choked her and demanded a way out. All this time she had never mentioned the misfortune that had affected her legs, not saying a word as though that didn’t matter. But now she pointed to her legs and cried and sobbed. Fear overpowered her; her last support had been torn away and now she was absolutely alone. It seemed as if only now had it become clear to her that she was a cripple. Although her husband hadn’t glanced at her and she had not spoken to him, now that she felt how alone she was, that there was no longer anyone to even hand her anything, she saw her fate.

  ‘What am I to do?’ she wept and rocked to and fro like the pendulum of a clock.

  ‘What am I to do? How will I get on now? Who will give me anything? I am afraid. I’m so very frightened. I am a cripple...I can’t move my legs... They are as heavy as wood...They are not my legs any longer!’

  The people sat in her cabin all night and only at daybreak did they go to rest. Although their eyes began to stick from fatigue and their tired limbs ached for sleep, no one was able to close his eyes. The story of Fabyash never left their minds. The thought that he had done away with himself was frightening and cast an ominous shadow before them, and they only recovered when it appeared possible that Fabyash had accidentally fallen into the water.

  This was revealed when Ida, while walking on the deck, found Fabyash’s wet and crumpled hat. This was after a st
orm had swept and rocked the ship and everyone had been certain that the end had come. The storm had begun as they stood in a queue near the dining room waiting for the cook to distribute the stew. Since the previous morning no food had been issued and just as they were ready to sit down at the tables the door was flung open with a bang and it flapped aimlessly in the wind like the broken wing of a bird. Then the door closed with a sharp crack and it became silent again—as if nothing had happened.

  That was how it started and soon one of the big wooden tables rose from its place like a living thing and heaved into the air so that rusty tin plates and spoons rattled, danced and fell to the floor with a crash. Although they held on to the plates with all their might, nevertheless the food spilled over the floor. The ship reeled to one side and they all lost their balance and fell upon each other, sliding over the food, so that it seemed as though the world had turned upside down.

  ‘It’s starting again!’ they groaned. ‘If only it would bring rain!’

  The passengers reached the door but it was closed as if some evil power was holding it with such determination that it could never be pulled open. When at last it was opened everybody was pushed back, then flung forward with such impetus that it seemed as if they were forcibly thrown out.

  The wind screamed angrily as it swept the deck catching them in front and behind and throwing them off their feet. Here the wind pushed them and hurried them forward; there it impeded their progress and drove them back so that they had to battle along. It roared and cracked like many whips and soon the deck was covered in water.

  The ship writhed, suspended in mid-air and then fell helplessly into the yawning abyss. From the sea poured waves of malevolent white foam that ran and jumped over each other with wild shrieks as if they were ready to devour and destroy everything in their path. Then rain fell without a pause. Heavy cool threads of water seemed to reach from sky to sea and from sea to sky as if a vast, unseen hand wanted to pattern the empty air. It appeared that the sky that was bulging with water wanted to join the sea in one deluge that would embrace everything.

  Seasickness assailed the passengers. Everybody was sick and some staggered about like drunken people while others moved as if delirious and on the verge of collapse. Although they had long waited for rain, hoping that it would refresh everything and allay their thirst, now everything turned out badly. The rain that had once so pleasantly soothed the skin now brought new sorrows and the old ones were forgotten.

  Nathan seached for Ida but he couldn’t find her anywhere. She was, like the others, lying on her bunk in the cabin and not moving out. He was overcome by apprehension. Previously when the seas had raged he had always been together with her but now she was not with him.

  It was only when the sea again became calm that he met her accidentally on the deck. She was very pale and his heart began to pound; he was so alarmed that he didn’t know what to do. In his anxiety and bewilderment he involuntarily nodded his head to her in greeting as one does when a familiar face is met with unexpectedly. But quickly he realised how childishly and foolishly he had behaved and he flushed crimson to his ears. Ida made no reply, but he caught the flickering smile on her face as she passed by.

  She had noticed his foolish conduct and was laughing at him.

  Nathan followed Ida, watching her striding over the deck that was still wet and smelt freshly of rain. She followed the narrow passage between the lifeboats and all the time his longing for her grew stronger. He felt that he couldn’t live without her.

  He saw Ida bend down, pick up something and then her whole body shuddered. He came up to her quickly and saw that she held Fabyash’s hat in her hand, so crumpled and soaked that it looked like a wet, faded rag.

  Where the hat had come from, where the rain had brought it from nobody could guess although each had a different theory. Certainly the hat had been hanging on a lifeboat and the rain had washed it down. This relic of a living Fabyash cast fear, yet they were glad of it and it lifted them with some hope from their bitter mood. Now everyone felt certain that Fabyash hadn’t done away with himself, that an accident had occurred; he had slipped. And this could happen to anybody.

  No one wanted to dig too deeply or give too much thought to the matter. As soon as someone dropped a word that Fabyash had probably slipped and lost his hat everybody readily accepted the idea. Although it didn’t sound reasonable and it was quite evident that this was only a cover to conceal the real facts, yet they caught hold of it with all their might. Mrs Hudess even remembered that on the night of the tragedy she heard a voice calling. Up to now she hadn’t said a word to anyone because she didn’t know for certain that it wasn’t a dream. But now she knew that it was no dream.

  ‘I heard someone groaning,’ Mrs Hudess related. ‘I heard someone distinctly calling. “Help! Save me!” I was then barely awake and I thought it was just a dream. But the voice continued to call, always more softly, until it ceased altogether. “Save me, people!” It follows me still as though I have just this moment heard it. I remained silent about it all this time because I didn’t know whether it was only my imagination. I thought to myself that Fabyash had contemplated something and at the last moment changed his mind and called for help. But now I am certain that he slipped. The tragedy occurred at night when it was dark and he was alone on the deck. He took one careless step…I can imagine the suffering that he went through in his last moments. I am nearly out of my senses. If he will pardon me, Fabyash had wretched luck—may it never befall another man.’

  They all stood around Mrs Hudess. And though some believed her and others didn’t, it was still good to listen to her.

  ‘Of course it must have happened like that,’ someone in the circle said. ‘A Jew wouldn’t do a thing like that. How else could it happen? It isn’t permissible for a Jew.’

  Reb Zainval Rockman took away the hat that Fabyash had left and locked it in his suitcase.

  CHAPTER XII

  As Fabyash was no longer on the ship and there was no one else to demand an answer to the question of how the endless wanderings over the sea would end, everyone more than ever became afraid of the morrow.

  More than ever they wanted to know what was happening and the idea of going to the captain to demand an answer in clear, unmistakable words grew on them.

  They continually talked about it and pondered over it. Mrs Hudess, who always prided herself on hating underhand methods, began to suggest to Bronya that it would not be wrong for her, Bronya, to go to the captain and try to talk to him. Before thenMrs Hudess had heard people talk secretly about sending Bronya to the captain; but she had not been in agreement. She couldn’t accept the idea because in her eyes Bronya was an empty babbler and the whole idea just idle talk.

  But now she looked at the proposition with different eyes. Mrs Hudess, who regarded herself as a forthright person, one who always spoke the unvarnished truth, couldn’t bear the way the proposal was being discussed secretly, whispered in corners, as if they were ashamed of it.

  ‘I’m an open book, a plain, straightforward person,’ she said. ‘As you see me, you can take me. I have always told the truth and more than once paid dearly for it. I am not one of those people who go behind others’ backs. With me, what is on my chest is on my tongue! Do you want to kill the chicken without letting blood? This is a time of sorrow and we shouldn’t be playing at blindman’s buff.’

  Now Mrs Hudess began to think highly of Bronya, even overlooking her sins, and she lauded her to the skies.

  ‘A real doll! As pretty as a picture,’ she praised her lavishly. ‘She has a face as bright as the sun. You can’t look into either! They say that in her Galicia the doctors would have given their lives away for her. And she has a well-oiled mouth. With such a clever tongue one can’t get lost anywhere. With her regal bearing she could live in the finest houses. She could be sent not only to a captain but to a king.’

  When they heard such words, not from just anyone, but from Mrs Hudess, the people gathere
d more courage and began to view the proposition in a favourable light. And Rockman said, on the spot, that Mrs Hudess was right and repeated her words.

  ‘This is a time of sorrow,’ he said, as if answering himself, ‘and one shouldn’t play blindman’s buff. And what sort of sin is it when it is all said and done for Bronya to go to the captain and talk to him? I can’t see any evil in that.’

  Mrs Hudess spoke to Bronya. She couldn’t restrain her feelings and she poured such a stream of praise over her that Bronya blushed crimson like a little girl. Bronya was elated and unable to conceal her pleasure. She said that she would go to the captain, that it was no trouble for her—and even now, before she went, she already had the captain eating out of her hands. She could be relied upon to make him talk, have no fear of that; Bronya was the right person for the job.

  Bronya gained a sense of self-importance and thought nobody could be compared with her. Those who had shown her scant respect and insulted her would soon find out who she was. She felt the great responsibility that rested on her shoulders. She alone had been chosen from all the others. She towered above everybody, feeling that they were all in her debt, that she could treat them as she wished.

  She began to dress in readiness to go to the captain. With curl papers she coaxed curls and waves into her short trimmed hair. She tied a ribbon around her head and became so excited in dressing and getting ready that she took a long time and almost forgot the great responsibility that had been placed upon her. She paraded up and down the ship, dressed gaudily in all her bits and pieces, talking loudly in Polish, and when Rockman approached her she gave herself so many coquettish airs that he fell back, thoroughly embarrassed. After this performance the people began to joke with Rockman.

  ‘It looks as if she likes you, Reb Zainval! What are you so embarrassed about? You are a handsome man and the young woman is yearning for you.’