Saul Bellow - The Victim

“She’s calming down.”

“What does she say?”

“All kinds of things,” Max said with obvious difficulty, still shunning a direct answer.

But Leventhal did not need a direct answer. He could picture Elena in the brass bed where Mickey had lain, in that terrible room, crying and raging; and Max sitting just as he saw him sitting now, abjectly listening. For what could he do? And Philip had to listen, too. The thought struck into him. But how could the boy be protected? He would have to hear and learn. Leventhal believed what he had said to Max about children coming through. They were mauled in birth and they straightened as they grew because their bones were soft. Mauled again later, they could recover again. She was his mother, so let him see and hear. Was that a cruel view of it? He was full of love for the boy. But it did not do to be soft. Be soft when things were harsh? Not that softness was to be condemned, but there were times when it was only another name for weakness. Softness? Out of the whole creation only man was like that, and he was half harsh.

“Have you had a doctor for her?” he asked.

“What makes you think she needs one?”

“Remember Mamma!”

Max started. “What are you talking about?” he said with a sudden flash of indignation.

“I don’t blame you for not wanting it brought up.”

“Why do you bring Ma into this? Does she remind you of Ma?”

Leventhal hesitated. “Once in a while, she does… But you admit you have trouble with her.”

“What do you expect? She carries on. Sure she carries on. It’s a kid, after all. That hits. But she’ll be all right. She’s getting better already.”

“Max, I don’t think you understand. People go overboard easily. I guess they’re not as strong that way as they used to be and when things get rough they give in. There’s more and more of that all the time. Everybody feels it. I do myself, often. Elena was very queer about the kid and the hospital. — That’s what she yells about, isn’t it? The hospital?” He grew increasingly unsure of himself. “And I thought…”

“I remember Ma pretty often, too, and Hartford, and all. You’re not the only one.”

“No?” Leventhal said. He looked at him searchingly.

“And you’re wrong about Elena.”

“You don’t think I want to be right, do you?”

“The main trouble I’m having with her is that I want to move the family down south. I was looking for a place in Galveston. That was what took so long. I found one and I have a deposit on it. I was going to bring them all down there.”

“That’s good. The best thing you could do. Take Philip out of New York. It’s no place to bring him up.”

“But I can’t talk Elena into it.”

“Why?”

“Maybe I started in too soon after the funeral. But she says she doesn’t want to go.”

“Tell me, is the old woman around much — her mother?”

“Oh, she’s in and out all the time.”

“For God’s sake, throw her out!”

His vehemence astonished Max.

“She doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Don’t let her get a hold. Protect yourself against her.”

Max for the first time began to smile.

“She won’t hurt me.”

“I’ll bet she’s telling Elena not to go. How do you know what she tells her? You don’t understand what they’re saying.”

Max’s look changed; he became grave again and his mouth sank at the corners. “I understand a little,” he said. “I guess you think I should have married a Jewish girl.”

“You never heard me say so,” Leventhal answered vigorously. Never.”

“No.”

“You never will. I’m talking about her mother, not Elena. You told me yourself that the old woman hated you, years ago. She’ll do you all the harm she can. Maybe you’re used to the old devil and don’t notice what she’s like any more. But I’ve watched her. It’s as clear as day to me that she thinks the baby’s death was God’s punishment because Elena married you.”

Max started and then his lips stiffened, and there was a submerged flaming of indignation beneath his natural darkness and the added darkness of care. “What kind of talk is that!” he said. “I never heard anything so peculiar in all my life. First you’ve got ideas about Elena and now the old woman.”

“You’ve been away,” said Leventhal. “You don’t know how she’s been acting. She’s poison.”

“Well, you’ve sure turned into a suspicious character.” Max’s face began to soften and he sighed.

“She’s full of hate,” Leventhal insisted.

“Go on, she’s a harmless old woman.”

If he were wrong about Elena, thought Leventhal, if he had overshot the mark and misinterpreted that last look of hers in the chapel, the mistake was a terrible and damaging one; the confusion in himself out of which it had risen was even more terrible. Eventually he had to have a reckoning with himself, when he was calmer and stronger. It was impossible now. But he was right about the old woman, he was sure. “You must get rid of your mother-in-law, Max!” he said with savage earnestness.

“Ah, what are you talking about?” he said rather wearily. “She’s just an old widow, old and cranky. Elena is her only daughter. I can’t tell her to stay away. This week she helped, she kept house and cooked for us. I know she doesn’t like me. So what? A worn-out old woman. I feel sad, sometimes, when I look at her. No, we’ll go to Galveston. Phil will start school there in the fall. He wants to go, and so does Elena. I can talk her into it. She wants to leave New York, only she’s still mixed up. But she’ll come. I’ve got to get back to my job, and we don’t want to be separated again. I don’t see why you’re so disturbed about the old woman. If she’s the worst I’m ever up against…” The large fold of his jacket reached kiltwise almost to his knees on which his hands were set. His unshapely fingers thickened where they should taper and the creases at the joints resembled the threads of flattened screws. “You don’t know Elena when there’s a tight spot,” he resumed. “She’s excitable all in pieces before something happens, but usually when it happens she’s stronger than I am. During the depression when I was laid up, she went out and peddled stuff from door to door.”

“I never heard that you were laid up.”

“Well, I was. And then when we were on relief, she has a brother who’s a hood and he wanted to take me into a kind of racket he had out in Astoria. I could’ve seen a little money, but she said no and went all the way out against it, so it was ‘No’ and we stayed on relief. Another woman would have said, ‘Go ahead.’“

“I see.”

“Afterwards things started to pick up and we thought we could add on to the family. Mickey wasn’t ever a healthy kid like Phil. And then we must have made mistakes, too. But what can you do? It’s not like with God, you know, in the Bible, where he blows his breath into Adam, or whoever. I think I told you that I asked a nurse what room he was in, when I got to the hospital. I went in there and he was lying covered up already. I pulled the sheet off and had a look at him.”

“Those fools!” Leventhal exclaimed. “Not to have somebody posted there.”

Max excused them with a downward wave of the hand. “All the nurses didn’t know. It’s a big place.” He added, consecutively, “I’m going south with the idea of a new start. I paid a deposit and so on. But to tell the truth, I don’t expect much. I feel half burned out already.”

Leventhal felt his heart shaken. “Half burned?” he said. “I’m older than you and I don’t say that.”

Max did not reply. His large trunk was ungainly in the double-breasted jacket.