Katerina by Aharon Appelfeld

apartment was a litle room with a kitchen and an outside bathroom. I saw right away that his narrow window didn’t absorb a lot of light, the walls were damp, and a musty smell hung in the air. In the evening we drank, but not a lot. Sammy spoke about the need to change apartments and find suitable work. He didn’t complain or get angry. His face was relaxed.
    He was fifty, and I was thirty. Apparently, he had once been handsome, but bad years and alcohol had ruined his body. His belly was distended, and his eyes were bloodshotand bulging. But I didn’t mind. I heard softness in his voice and a desire to be good to people. Once he had been a member of the union, but he had stopped going to the meetings, because while the activists talked loudly about justice, they themselves wasted the public’s money.
    The next day, to my surprise, he went out to look for work. I saw how he gathered up all his forces, bound them together, and set out. I wanted to tell him, Relax, I still have money, but I didn’t. It seemed to me that I mustn’t spoil that great intention. He went out, and I tidied the house.
    The next day, he again bound up all his willpower and went out to look for work. I knew that he was only doing it for me, and that made me sad. I, too, after cleaning the house, went out to look for work. After two rejections, I was sitting on a bench in the public park, watching the passersby. For some reason it seemed to me that the tall peasants, standing in their stalls and selling vegetables and fruit, would soon snap their whips over the heads of the Jews scurrying nearby.
    An hour passed, and nothing happened. On the contrary, the peasants were enjoying the bargaining. The closeness of the Jews amused them. They talked to them in grunts, but not angrily. I went home early and washed two shirts for Sammy, an undershirt, and some socks. Sammy’s shirts were dirty but didn’t give off a foul smell. I hung the laundry in the courtyard.
    This time Sammy returned content. He hadn’t found work, but he hadn’t drunk too much, either. He said to himself, “I won’t fall back again.” I too tried not to drinktoo much—two or three glasses and no more. Sammy’s face surprised me by its softness. Only when he spoke about himself did it shrivel. In his youth he had wanted to sail to America. His old parents hadn’t let him. He didn’t dare run away. Without much thought, he had married. Marriage had made life odious for him.
    The money was running out, and I was forced to sell an expensive ring Henni had given me. I went from store to store. The prices offered by the merchants were infuriatingly low. I told Sammy.
    “You should know that the Jews are cheats. Money comes before everything for them,” he said, with frightening composure. Finally, I found a buyer, a Jewish merchant, who paid three times the sum offered by the others. It was a valuable, good ring; he didn’t conceal that from me. I was glad. Sammy and I needed a drink like a breath of air.
    During that strange and happy year I dreamed that a son would be born to me. Sammy was perturbed. Children were grief to their parents and themselves. There were enough children in the world. Why add more? Meanwhile, the two of us found work for the same storekeeper. I became a cleaning woman, and Sammy worked in the warehouse. Our little happiness seemed to grow. On Saturdays we would go on excursions, venturing as far as the Prut on the tram.
    On Sundays he brought a small bottle of vodka, and we would sit and drink without getting drunk.
    “Weren’t you ever religious?” I asked him.
    “No. My parents were religious, but their piety annoyed me.”
    Sometimes he used to say, “You’re young and pretty. Youshould go back to your village and marry a rich, handsome man.”
    “I find you handsome.”
    “Why are you mocking me?”
    “I swear.”
    My oath wasn’t a vain one. He had the charm of a man whose suffering had afflicted but not destroyed him. Excessive