Sholem Aleichem - The Letters of Menakhem-Mendl and Sheyne-Sheyndl and Motl, the Cantor's Son

Next Zilye began bringing all kinds of experts, most of them tailors like himself. Each found something wrong with the house. That’s when it was agreed to bring Pinye’s father, Hirsh-Leyb the mechanic. Hirsh-Leyb knows all about houses. He’s honest and can be trusted.

Hirsh-Leyb came and inspected the house from every angle. He threw back his shoulders, tilted his head, adjusted his hat, scratched his chin, and declared:

“This house will stand for a hundred years.”

A tailor friend of Zilye’s said:

“Sure! Redo it in brick, prop it up with some good beams, put in four new walls, give it a tin roof, and it will stand until the Messiah comes.”

You couldn’t have made Hirsh-Leyb madder if you had cussed him to his face or sprayed him with soda water. All he wanted to know was: “Where does a sneaking, lowdown, lying louse of a needle pusher get off opening his big fat mouth in front of a mechanic like me?”

I got my hopes up too soon, though. Just when I was sure there would be a swell fight, everyone and his uncle turned up to make peace between Hirsh-Leyb and the tailors. We bargained, settled on a price, sent out for vodka, and drank toasts to a safe voyage and our making lots of money and coming back, God willing, from America.

“Hold on there!” Elye declared. “What’s the big hurry to come back from America?”

That started a conversation about America. Hirsh-Leyb was ready to bet a pot of gold that we would be back in no time flat. If he weren’t worried about Pinye being drafted, he would never agree to his going. America? Feh!

“Begging your pardon,” said Zilye the tailor, “but what’s so feh about it?”

“America,” Hirsh-Leyb said, “is a lowdown land.”

“Begging your pardon,” said Zilye, “but what’s so lowdown about it?”

“That’s obvious,” Hirsh-Leyb said. “If it’s so obvious, you might explain it,” said Zilye.

But although Hirsh-Leyb tried explaining, he was too soused to put two words together. So was everyone. We were all in a grand mood, myself included. All except my mother, who kept wiping her eyes with her apron. Elye saw her and whispered:

“You’re a heartless woman! Don’t you even care about your own eyes? Murderer!”

It was time for the good-byes. We went from house to house, parting from every relative, neighbor, and friend. We spent a whole day at Yoyneh the bagel maker’s. Brokheh’s parents made us a swell dinner. The whole family sat around a table.

I sat next to Brokheh’s sister Alte. I’ve already told you about her. She’s a year older than me and has two braids. Since Elye’s wedding we’re supposed to be a couple. Whoever sees us together says, “There go the bride and groom.” That’s why we’re not embarrassed to be seen talking. Alte asked me if I would miss her. Of course I would, I said. Then she asked if I would send her letters from America. I said of course to that too.

“But how can you? You don’t know how to write.”

“So what?” I said, sticking my hands in my pockets. “You think you can’t learn in America?”

Alte looked at me and smiled. Don’t ask me what was so funny. She’s just trying not to be jealous. Everyone is. Even bug-eyed Henekh would like to drown me in a spoon of water. He stopped me and said with his buggy eyes:

“I hear you’re going to America.”

“Yup.”

“What will you do there, walk the streets with a tin cup?”

He’s lucky my brother Elye wasn’t there. Elye would have given him a tin cup all right! I wasn’t going to start up with a bum like that. I stuck out my tongue and ran to Pesye’s to say good-bye to her and her gang.

That’s some gang Pesye has! I’ve told you about them. All eight of them stood around me in a circle. They wanted to know if I was glad to be going. It didn’t take long to answer that. Are they green with envy! The greenest is Bumpy. He can’t take his eyes off me. He keeps sighing and saying:

“So you’re going to see the world.”

Yup. I’m going to see the world. I can’t wait!

We’re off! Leyzer the coachman is here with his “eagles”—three horses fast as lightning who wouldn’t stand still for love or money. They paw the ground, snorting and foaming. I can’t make up my mind whether to watch the horses or help with the bundles. In the end I compromise by staying with the horses while watching the bundles being carried out. They fill Leyzer’s wagon. There’s a mountain of pillows on it. And no time to waste, because it’s forty-five verst to the station.

We’re all here: me and my brother Elye and his wife Brokheh and his friend Pinye and Pinye’s wife Taybl and their whole family — Hirsh-Leyb the mechanic, and Shneyur the watchmaker, and Taybl’s father the miller, and the miller’s wife, and Aunt Kreine and her birdfaced daughter, and even old Reb Hesye. They’ve all come to say good-bye to Pinye. On our side there’s Yoyneh the bagel maker with his wife and sons. It’s a pity I haven’t introduced them all. Now it’s too late because we’re off to America. They stand around giving advice. Watch out for thieves in America!

“There aren’t any thieves there.”

That’s what Elye says, patting the secret pocket sewed by my mother in a place where no one would dream of looking. The money from the sale of our house is there. It’s squirreled away safe and sound.

“Don’t you worry,” Elye says. He’s tired of having to give the whole world an account of our money.

It’s time to say good-bye. We look around …where is my mother? Nowhere, that’s where! Elye is about to have a fit. Leyzer is chafing at the bit. He says we’ll miss our train if we don’t get cracking. But wait — here she comes! Her face is red and her eyes are swollen. Elye pounces onher.

“What’s the matter with you? Where have you been?”

“Saying good-bye to your father in the graveyard.”

Elye turns away. No one knows what to say. I haven’t thought of my father since the day we decided to go to America. I feel an ache inside. We’re going and he’s staying in the graveyard.

But there’s no time to think of that. Someone gives me a push and tells me to climb aboard. How am I supposed to climb a mountain of pillows? By using Leyzer’s shoulders as a ladder!

Suddenly there’s such a weeping and a wailing that you might think the Temple had been destroyed. The loudest is my mother. She throws her arms around Pesye and says: “You’ve been a true sister to me. Truer than a sister!” Pesye doesn’t cry. Her big Adam’s apple just bobs in her throat and tears big as beans run down her fat cheeks.

Everyone is done kissing except Pinye. Watching Pinye kiss is better than going to the theater. Each kiss lands in the wrong place, that’s how nearsighted he is. If his lips don’t wind up in your beard or on your nose, his head bangs into yours. He can’t take a step without tripping. You could die laughing.

Praise God, we’re all in the wagon. I mean we’re on top of it. My mother, Brokheh, and Taybl are sitting on one mountain and Elye and Pinye are facing them on another. Leyzer and I are in the driver’s seat. Although my mother wanted me next to her, Elye said I’d be better off by the driver. You bet I am! I can see the whole world and the whole world sees me. Leyzer reaches for his whip. There’s a last round of good-byes. The women cry.

“Be well!”

“Have a good trip!”

“Write and tell us how you are!”

“The best of luck!”

“Don’t forget us!”

“A letter a week! Write at least once a week, for goodness’ sake!”

“Give our love to Moyshe, and Basye, and Meir, and Zlote, and Khaneh-Perl, and Soreh-Rokhl, and all their children!”

“We’ll be sure to! Take care! Be well!”