“So there is an envelope. Take it up or leave it behind, I don’t care which,” he tells her, flapping his coat over his shoulders. “It’ll be a welcome gratuity for Alf, I’m sure.” Standing, he slaps on his fedora at a rakish angle. “I think perhaps we should enjoy a bit of distance from one another for a time. And since I am such a disreputable character, I’m sure you won’t miss me.”
“I know there is something you are hiding from me, Feter!” she shouts out. “You who are stuffed with money.” These words she speaks with contempt. “It’s falling out of your pockets for your haircuts and manicures. For your steak dinners and your ridiculous cane! You think you are the sophisticate again, Feter?” Rachel is on her feet. “The cosmopolitan man? You are not. You are a relic. A fossil.”
Her uncle’s face has gone bloodless.
“You sold Eema’s painting, Feter!
“How dare you, child?” he wants to know. “How dare you think I’ve ever done
The ancient waiter has arrived, hoping to quell the commotion. “Say, folks. Can maybe we try to calm ourselves down a little?” he wonders. “People are trying to eat here.”
“Not to worry, Alf,” Feter assures the waiter with brisk righteousness. “I think we’ve said all there is to say,” he decrees. “You can give the check to my niece!” And then he is gone. Whirling out of the door, leaving a void of silence in the midst of the room.
She walks, crying. Walks aimlessly. She is so angry and so hurt and so frightened and so shamed. On the subway, she never imagined that she would be one of those women who cries alone in her seat, yet here she is. Returning home, she seizes the cat tearfully, but Kibbitz is in no mood for comfort, so she allows him to escape out the window.
By the time darkness rises, she has finally cried her eyes dry, lying on the bed, empty. Traffic noise filters dimly up from the street. She thinks of the painting. That it could be reduced to nothing more than “the nudie!” Seeing her mother’s canvas in such disreputable circumstances, on the counter of a shabby pawnbroker’s shop. A shame and a disgrace! It was nicked in spots. The paint scratched here and there. The colors dirtied by insensitive handling. Two decades of careless journeys had left their mark, but even beneath the thin coat of grime, the painting still projected fire.
The first time she saw it, even as a child, she was entranced by its bright beauty. Standing on her mother’s easel, the oils freshly gleaming, the painting glowed like rubies in the sunlight. She could not remove her eyes from it. Until she heard a voice.
Berlin was a sunny city that day. Feter Fritz had promised Rashka an outing as a treat, but first they had to stop at the loft where Eema painted. Rashka was looking forward to the cakes at the Hotel Adlon afterward. The chocolate cream torte. But then Feter and Eema had set to arguing again, out in the hallway, having quickly forgotten Rashka’s presence. So she’d slipped into Eema’s studio. She liked the studio. The light that poured in through the glass ceiling. She liked the smell of the paints and bottles of oils. She liked the collection of brushes, flat, thick, long, and thin as needles, and would often pick them out of their jars to pretend to paint a picture on the air—but only if Eema wasn’t there to catch her. Today, though, she was mostly hoping to cuddle with Gilgamesh, her eema’s fluffy, tawny-furred studio cat.
The feline, however; had been abducted. There was a girl sitting on a stool. The same girl who had been lying in Feter’s bed. She was barely covered by a gauzy robe, this girl, and smoking a cigarette as Gilgamesh purred in her lap and she stroked the beast’s head. Rashka blinked. She felt paralyzed by the sight. This girl was as entrancing as her eema’s painting. Red hair turned fiery under the sun that beamed down on her from the skylit windows above. Her beauty made Rashka feel the same way she did when she watched Eema comb her glossy black hair in the gilded mirror. Both filled and emptied. It was a face that called for the most beautiful of descriptions. She was azoy sheyn vi di zibn veltn. Beautiful even as the seven worlds.