Mila 18 - Leon Uris [155]
When the closing benediction was done, the Torah scrolls were closed, to be taken and hidden from desecration by the Germans.
Stephan Bronski faced the room. Uncle Andrei winked. Stephan looked about, hoping that Wolf might have come in, but he hadn’t. He cleared his throat. “I would like to thank my mother and father,” he said in the traditional opening of the valedictory, “for bringing me up in the Jewish tradition.”
The pronouncement seldom failed to bring tears to women. Deborah and Rachael proved no exception. But in the rear of the office the words struck Paul Bronski like a stiletto. He lowered his eyes as his son continued.
“I realize that becoming a son of the commandment is just a token of manhood. A lot of people told me how sorry they were that I couldn’t have my bar mitzvah in peacetime when the Great Tlomatskie Synagogue would have been almost full and relatives would have come from all of Poland and there would have been a large celebration and presents. I thought a lot about all that, but I am really glad to have my bar mitzvah in a place like this room, because in places like this the Jewish faith has been kept alive during other times of oppression. I think, too, it is a special privilege to have your bar mitzvah in bad times. Anyone can live like a Jew when things go well, but to take an oath to be a Jew today is really important. We know that God needs real Jews to protect His laws. Well ... we have survived everyone who has tried to destroy us before because we have kept this kind of faith. Our God will not let us down. I am very proud to be a Jew and I will try hard to uphold my responsibilities.”
Rabbi Solomon held the tallis on Stephan’s head and chanted the closing priestly blessing. The room pressed forward to converge on the boy and congratulate him with hearty “Mozeltoffs.” Paul Bronski left the place quickly and quietly.
“I guess you are satisfied now,” Paul snapped at Deborah. “You’ve put on your little circus. You’ve won your battle. You’ve showed me up as a damned fool in front of the whole ghetto.”
Deborah tried to contain herself. His eyes were filled with that half-wild look again.
“Grinding salt into my wounds,” he continued. “Making me look ridiculous.”
“Stephan did not have a bar mitzvah as a vendetta against you.”
“Like hell.”
“Paul, let’s go to sleep,” she pleaded.
“Sleep?” He laughed sardonically. “Who sleeps?”
He tried to light a cigarette, but his hand trembled so violently that he was able to accomplish it only with her steadying hand. “Well, Deborah, now that our son is properly a Jew and you have won your crusade for his holy purification for my sins—”
“Stop it!”
“—now perhaps we can discuss a family matter. We are still a family, you know.”
“If you speak like a civilized person.”
His outburst was done now. He calmed himself. “You’ve got to give up working at the orphanage and Rachael has to stop giving concerts. As for Stephan, he spends entirely too much time on the streets.”
She merely narrowed her eyes at his pronouncement.
“We must reappraise all our friends. A continued association with Brandel, Rosenblum, and Susan could become dangerous. Every one is aware of their past affiliations and no one is sure they are not part of this underground.”
“Now you just stop where you are, Paul—”
“Let me finish, dammit, let me finish! I can’t guarantee your immunity because of the likes of your goddamned brother and his agitators. They’ve pulled in the entire family of one of our board members and are holding them all at Pawiak Prison as a warning for us to break up this underground.”
All that was left of a desire for honor seemed to drain out of him in that instant. His skin was a horrible gray. “We have decided—”
“What?”
“We have decided that our families have to come to work inside the Civil Authority building and never be out of our sight.”
“Oh, my God, it’s come to this.” Deborah held her hand