Jacob's Way (7 page)

Reisa never forgot the storm that overtook the
Jennings
. It was a phenomena beyond her experience. She could not believe the fury that struck the ship, driving it, at times, sideways, and at other times thrusting its bow so far into the icy waters it seemed that it would never rise again.

As the fury of the storm struck, their first plunge sent her entire bow deep under the green water. The whole ship pitched at such an angle and with such force that Reisa was thrown forward, as was Jacob and the other passengers.

The wind howled outside like a wild thing, and a cascade of water flooded the compartment. Screams and cries of terror broke the air, and many were praying aloud at the top of their lungs. Children were weeping, and parents were trying to calm them.

How long this went on Reisa never knew. As the water flooded the deck, everything was soaked. No one was dry, and the cold had everyone shivering. On and on the torment went until it seemed there would be no end. The wind did not lessen, but howled in a fierce incantation of doom. Finally Reisa put her arms around her grandfather, and the two held on as the ship rolled and pitched.

Jacob said nothing, except once when the storm was at its height. “I am not afraid to die for myself, Reisa, but I pray that the Ruler of the Universe will save us so that you and the other young people on board and the sailors will have a chance at life.”

As the storm continued with no letup, Reisa looked up to see the young officer Ellis Carpenter enter. He called out, “We need some strong hands to run the pump! My men are exhausted.”

Reisa at once got up. “You need men?”

“Yes.” He peered at her by the feeble light of the single lantern. “If the water isn't pumped out, the ship will sink. Can you speak to these people and see if you can get us some volunteers? Some strong men.”

Reisa immediately followed him, interpreting his words. Suddenly, as they moved, the enormous form of Dov Puskin was at her side. “I am strong,” he said simply.

Carpenter looked at the huge man and nodded. “Good. Come with me.” He left with Dov and the three other volunteers among the men. Reisa said, “I'm going with them, Grandfather. Will you be all right?”

“Yes. Go see what you can find out.”

Reisa followed the officer and the men until they reached the pumps. It was a simple enough piece of machinery, two poles with men sitting on opposite benches facing one another. While one pushed down, the other pulled up. This drove another slender pole down into the bowels of the ship. The water was pumped out, but the men had to pump for all they were worth.

“Here, you men take a break. We've got some volunteers.” Carpenter had to shout over the screaming of the wind. Dov said, “You three sit there.”

The three men took positions, and Dov sat down alone across from them. He put his heavy hands on the handle and pushed down with apparently no effort. The three volunteers were all young men and relatively strong, but the huge form of Dov dominated the scene.

Up and down, up and down they pushed the handle. Dov was tireless and seemed to be doing all the work himself.

“I never saw such a man,” Carpenter murmured. “He's strong as a bear!”

“That is what his name means. It is good to have a man like him at a time like this.” She hesitated, then said, “Will the ship go down?”

“I don't know. It's in the hands of God.”

Reisa saw the trouble on the officer's youthful face. He was soaked to the skin, and the driving rain pelted all of them as they stood on the deck. She heard a sound, looked around to see where it was coming from, and was startled to see the small group of Christians that had been there before.

Carpenter said tersely, “Tell that bunch to get down below! They could be washed overboard. I can't speak their language.”

“I'll tell them.”

Reisa held onto the railing until she got to the small group. There were only about eight of them, all men except for two women. They sang lustily, and she listened to the words as she moved toward them:

The people down in darkness sat

A glorious light have seen;

The light has shined on them who long

In shades of death have been.

For unto us a child is born
,

To us a son is given
,

And on his shoulders ever rest
,

All power on earth and heaven.

His name shall be the Prince of Peace

For evermore adored
,

The Wonderful, the Counselor
,

The great and mighty Lord.

His righteous government and power

Shall over all extend;

On judgment and on justice base
,

His reign shall have no end.

The words of the hymn caught at Reisa, for they were familiar to her. Her grandfather had read them often, and she knew them almost by heart. They came from the book of Isaiah, which was one of her grandfather's favorite sections of Scripture. Now, for some reason, she stood there with the wind whistling through the yards, and above, the sails all taken in but one. And even as the ship rolled, and she hung on, something troubled her heart.
How is it that Christians sing of the Jewish Messiah?

She moved closer to the man who was apparently the leader, and shouted in Russian, “The officer says that you should go below. He is afraid that you may be blown overboard.”

The leader smiled, and there was not a trace of fear in his expression. He raised his voice over the screaming wind. “Our people are not afraid to die.”

Confused by this, Reisa said, “The song—it comes from the Old Scripture from the prophet Isaiah.”

“That is true. You know your Bible.”

“You are Christians, yes?”

“Indeed we are. We are followers of the Lamb.”

“But why do you sing the Jewish prophets?”

“Have you read Isaiah, daughter?”

“Yes. And my grandfather has read it to me.”

“Then I say unto you that the one of whom Isaiah spoke, the Prince of Peace, the Wonderful, the Counselor, he has come to this earth and his name was Jesus Christ. It is to him we sing.” The speaker examined her face and seemed to find something there that interested him. “Isaiah speaks of the Messiah, and it is the Messiah of God that is in our hearts. It is he who tells us not to be afraid.”

“How does he speak to you?” Reisa asked in wonder.

“He speaks in his words, the Scripture, and in our hearts through the Holy Spirit.”

Reisa had no answer for this. It was something far beyond her, and she looked away, somehow troubled by the encounter. Something about the simplicity of the man and his utter confidence amid the raging storm both troubled and interested Reisa. She wanted to ask more questions but did not have the courage. “The officer asked me to tell you,” she said quietly, and then turned and left.

Finally the winds fell, and the terrible swells of the ocean smoothed out. The sun, which had been hidden for days, broke through the clouds, and many of the passengers that could, came up on the deck. Reisa, standing beside Petya, glanced over to the group of Christians who also were on deck. She was holding tightly to Boris, who clung to her with his claws digging into her arm. She repeated the details of her experience to Petya and ended by saying, “They think that Jesus is the Messiah of whom Isaiah spoke.”

“They cannot be good people,” Petya said firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because it is the
goy
, the Gentiles, who have slaughtered our people. How could they be good?”

Reisa kept these things in her heart. She did not have the courage to go to the leader of the small group, but she did listen to their singing, which never failed to stir her. They awakened some sort of longing in her, and she realized, being an honest young woman, that she had been terribly afraid during the storm. She had been afraid of death. Time and time again the words of the leader of the Christians came to her.
Our people are not afraid to die…

Six days after the storm had passed, Reisa was awakened by Petya, who was shaking her shoulder.

“Come! We are here! We are in America!”

Reisa at once sat up and awakened Jacob, who was dozing fitfully.

“We are here, Grandfather,” she said. “We are here! We are in America.”

“I must see,” Jacob said. He got to his feet shakily, and Reisa and Petya helped him up the ladder.

They found a place on the deck, and Petya, having the keenest eyes, said, “There, you see? It's land.”

The ship was under full sail, and everyone was crying out, “It is America! We are here!”

Jacob's eyes were not good, but finally even he could see the dim, gray line that broke the horizon. He said quietly, “The Eternal One has brought us here, Reisa.” He thought for a moment, then turned to her and smiled. “He guided your goose to its place, and now he has brought us to this land safely.”

Reisa Dimitri stared at the long gray line of land that was approaching very rapidly. Overhead the sun was shining brightly, and the warmth came to her. She studied the horizon, and as she did the thought came to her,
I wonder what God will do with us here in this place?

Five

B
y the time the
Jennings
had dropped anchor at Castle Garden and furled all the sails, the deck was crowded with passengers all anxious to set forth on a new world for the first time.

Jacob, however, was too weak to fight his way through the crowd, so Reisa said, “We'll wait until it's easier,
Zaideh
.”

“You want to say good-bye to people. I'll wait here for you. Go on, Granddaughter.”

Reisa made her way up to the deck where the passengers were filing off. She knew many of the passengers and shook hands with as many as possible. As the Chapaevs got off, the three children clung to her. The smallest, being only two, started crying. Reisa knelt and said, “Don't worry, Poppy. We'll be seeing each other. You're in America now.” She hugged the small girl and then stepped back, saying good-bye to Ilya and Ivana. “We must keep in touch,” she said, but wondered if that were likely.

“I don't know,” Ivana said tearfully. “It's such a big place.”

“We'll be in the same city, and I imagine most of our people will find their way. We'll be a small community. If you have a chance, find the family of Laban Gold. That's the family we'll be looking for.”

“Is he a relative?” Ilya asked quickly.

“Not to us, but he's the relative of a friend we had at home. I'm sure you can always find him in the Jewish part of New York.”

She waved good-bye as the family departed and watched as the Christian group began to leave. The men wore shabby coats and vests, and one of them boasted a ratty bow tie. The women all wore skirts that reached to the floor and handkerchiefs tied over their heads, as did Reisa herself. One little girl no more than three had eyes like saucers and curly black hair. She smiled and waved at Reisa.

Suddenly the leader of the group, whose name she did not know, came over to her and nodded. “This is good-bye.”

“Yes, but perhaps we'll see each other in New York.”

“No. We're leaving for the west.” He hesitated for only a moment and then nodded as if coming to some sort of agreement with himself. “God spoke to my heart last night and told me to do something.”

A little disconcerted by this, Reisa blinked. She was not accustomed to meeting people who heard directly from God. A little nervously, she said, “What is it?”

“He told me to give you this.” Ramming his hand into the oversized pockets of his bulky coat, the man pulled out a small package wrapped in oilskin.

“This has been a treasure to me,” he said softly. “And now God wants it to be a treasure to you.”

“Oh, I couldn't take it!”

“You must, my sister. It's God's will.” He forced the small packet into her hand, then said, “God be with you. May the Messiah speak to your heart!”

Bewildered, Reisa watched the group leave. The leader reached the shore, then turned to look back at her. Reisa never forgot that look. There was a yearning look in the man's eyes as if he sought something from her, but she could not imagine what it was. As they made their way into the crowd streaming away, she opened the waterproof covering and looked inside. It was a small, thin book, and when she opened the first page, she read the title
The Gospel of John
. It meant nothing to her, but she turned a few pages rapidly and saw the name of God mentioned many times. Quickly she rewrapped it and stuck it into her pocket.

The incident, for some reason, troubled Reisa. In fact, her encounters with the Christians had been disturbing to her. She had tried to push her feelings aside, but she kept thinking of the Christians, especially at night when she tried to sleep. Now, however, there was much to do, for the crowd was almost all ashore.

Going below, she found Dov standing beside her grandfather.

“Dov, I've been looking for you. I wanted to tell you good-bye.”

“I help.” Dov motioned toward the two bulky trunks that contained all the worldly goods of Reisa and Jacob.

“Oh, Dov, that's so nice of you!” Reisa had been troubled about how to get the trunks ashore. She patted the man's huge arm, and he looked down at her, his small black eyes opaque. But behind them Reisa thought she saw a faint warmth. It was hard to read the man! His face was covered with black, bushy whiskers, and he wore a fur cap pulled down over his forehead. His small eyes were the only sign of concern that she could discover.

Suddenly Petya appeared. “I've been looking for you, Reisa,” he said. “I thought I'd help you two get settled. I knew you'd need some help with your trunks. I don't have much myself, you see.” True enough, he had only a small bag stuck like a sausage under his arm. He smiled faintly at her and said, “I'm starting out light in the new world.”

With the baggage taken care of by Dov and Petya, all Reisa had to do was carry Boris and help her grandfather. The cat had become well adjusted to the ship, and now as she stooped to put him in his carrier, he suddenly grinned at her and said, “Yow!”

“You and your grins!” she exclaimed, then snatched him up and draped him over her left shoulder. With her other hand she reached down and helped her grandfather to his feet. “Put your coat on now. It's still cold outside.”

“Anything will be better than this, won't it?” Jacob murmured. He moved very slowly, but Reisa did not hurry him. Slowly they mounted the ladder, Jacob taking them one at a time. Finally when he stood on deck he took a deep breath. “Beautiful! The Architect of the Universe has created a beautiful world.”

Indeed, it was beautiful. It was the second day of March 1871, a day Reisa knew she would never forget. The sky was a cerulean canopy overhead. Odors from the land came wafting across to them, and after the fetid stench of the quarters below deck, they smelled like rich perfume to Jacob Dimitri. He inhaled again and again as they moved toward the gangplank, drinking in the sea, the air, and the land where he had come to end his days.

“Miss Reisa, Mr. Dimitri, it's good to see you both.” Ellis Carpenter had come to stand beside the gangplank. He smiled at Reisa and her grandfather broadly and said, “Welcome to America.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jacob said. “You've been very kind to my granddaughter and to me. May the God of heaven richly bless you.”

Carpenter's face changed somehow, and he shot a glance at Reisa. “Your granddaughter is a persuasive young woman. I'm afraid if I stayed around her too long, I would become a man of God myself.”

“Indeed, that would be something to make you proud.” Jacob smiled. “It is a good thing for a young man to find God and walk with him all of his days.”

Reisa put out her hand, and it was swallowed by the sailor's large one. “Thank you so much, Mr. Carpenter. And I do trust that God will bless you and keep you safe.”

Carpenter nodded without speech.

As they headed on down the gangplank, Petya whispered, “That fellow is stuck on you, Reisa.”

“No. I don't think so,” Reisa whispered. “I think he's stuck on God—that he's afraid God will find him.”

As they stepped off on the firm earth, Jacob abruptly laughed aloud. “It's odd. I've been moving for so long that to stand still on firm earth almost makes me dizzy.”

All of them experienced some of the same effects. The novelty of walking on a surface that did not tilt or rise or heave was delightful to them, although it did give them a strange sensation.

“How do we go about finding Mr. Gold?” Jacob said. “Look at this crowd.”

Indeed, the docks were swarming with people of all nationalities. Other boats were unloading their passengers, mostly from Europe. There were Greeks, Albanians, Germans, Englishmen, some wearing costumes such as none of the small party had ever seen before.

“Perhaps we can find a policeman,” Reisa said timidly.

“I don't much trust soldiers,” Petya said. “They haven't been kind to us at home.”

“This is America,” Reisa said quickly. “The police and the soldiers here will be good.”

They quickly found that they were not permitted to leave. The docks were surrounded by a high fence, and everyone was being channeled into different lines.

“What are these lines for?” Petya wondered.

He had not long to wonder, for a guard wearing a dark blue uniform was urging the swarming masses into lines.

Gathering her courage, Reisa went up to him. “Please, sir, what we do now?”

“You'll have to take an examination.”

“What is this examination?”

“A doctor will look you over and be sure that you're healthy.”

This was a puzzle to Reisa as it was to the others, but she submitted to it. It proved to be a very simple examination. Two doctors were waiting, and they seemed to be looking mostly at the eyes of people. When Reisa, the first in line of her party, reached the doctor, he glanced over her carelessly and said, “You speak English?”

“Yes—not too good.”

“Open your mouth.” He looked inside her mouth, held up some fingers, then said, “How many fingers?”

“Four,” Reisa answered quickly.

He looked carefully into her eyes and then nodded and waved her on. Reisa stood waiting while the other three were processed. When they regathered outside the immigration offices, they found that the streets of New York were unlike anything they had ever imagined. Coming from a tiny village, they were overwhelmed with the confusion. Carriages, wagons, and men on horseback crowded the streets. The sidewalks themselves were filled with people, walking rapidly and apparently with great purpose. They all wore very fine clothes—or so it seemed to Reisa. She stood there helplessly.

Dov said in his deep bass, “Policeman.”

Reisa looked, and sure enough, there was a man who was either a soldier or a policeman. He had on a domed cap, his buttons were brass, and he carried a stick attached by a thong to his wrist.

“Go ask him,” Petya whispered quickly. “You speak good English.”

Reisa swallowed hard and then moved over to stand before the policeman. He turned to look at her and smiled. He had a red face, bright blue eyes, and a sandy-colored mustache that dropped down over his lip. “What might I do for you, miss?” he said.

“Please. We are looking for Mr. Laban Gold. Do you know him?” In Reisa's village everyone had known everyone else, but when the policeman laughed she suddenly realized her mistake.

“No, lass, I don't know him. Where does he live?”

“In the Jewish section.”

“Ah, that I can help you with.” His eyes ran over her companions, resting on Dov longest, but then he turned to Reisa and said, “See that street?”

“Yes, sir.” Reisa listened hard as he gave what seemed to be complicated instructions.

Seeing her confusion, the policeman said, “Don't worry. You head in that direction. If you get lost, ask anyone how to get to the Jewish section. They'll point you to it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You're welcome. And you're welcome to America.”

Reisa relayed the instructions of the policeman to her companions. “We go this way, I think,” she said uncertainly.

The journey from the docks to their destination was fascinating. All of them looked until it seemed their eyes would hurt. They had never seen so many people in one place in their entire lives.

“How can they live with this many people so close?” Jacob whispered.

“I don't know, but I think we will have to learn.”

They traveled slowly, making adjustments for Jacob's weakness. Finally, after asking several people, they found themselves thoroughly lost.

“What will we do?” Petya said in dismay. “We'll never find it.”

“Look!” Reisa said. “There,
Zaideh
. He will help us.”

Jacob glanced in the direction of Reisa's gesture and saw a small man wearing black. What caught his eye was the long curling earlocks. “A Hasidic Jew!” he exclaimed. He moved forward and said in Hebrew, “Greetings, sir.”

The small man stopped and smiled, taking in the group. “You've just arrived?” he said.

“Yes. We are looking for a Mr. Laban Gold in the Jewish section.”

“That will not be difficult. Where have you come from?”

“We come from Russia.”

“You will find many of your companions here. Come, I will take you there myself.”

Delighted with their find, Jacob led the way chatting with his newfound friend, who led them to their destination. Finally he said, “This is Hester Street, the section where most of your people live. I do not know Mr. Gold personally, but there's a large population here. If I were you, I would simply walk down the street and ask. Somebody will be sure to know him.”

“Thank you so much, my friend,” Jacob said warmly. “Where is your synagogue?”

“Ah, that is good. You ask that first,” the man said. He gave directions, which Reisa wrote down on a slip of paper.

“That was good. Surely God above sent him to us.”

Petya was anxious. “Why don't you wait here, Mr. Dimitri. I'll go find the Golds and then take you to them. There's no point in all of us going.”

“Do you think you can do that?” Reisa said.

“I can't carry a ton like Dov here, but I'll bet I can find a family for you. Look.” He pointed, and they saw what appeared to be a small cafe. “Why don't you go get something good to eat, and I'll be back soon enough.”

“Good,” Dov said. “I'm hungry.”

Indeed, they were all hungry. The three made their way to the cafe. When they looked up at the sign which was in Yiddish, Reisa said with delight, “Good. They speak Yiddish.”

“Indeed. I think most people do in this place. Haven't you heard the people as they pass?” Jacob said.

When they entered, a fat man with a smiling face came and greeted them in Yiddish. “Welcome. Sit down, and I will serve you myself.”