Satan in Goray - Isaac Bashevis Singer [3]
were all indoors, their ears alerted for news of the enemy's vengeful return. Rabbi Benish knew his people. Although constantly preoccupied with profound meditation, he kept everyone in mind, even calling women by name. When Rabbi Benish arrived in Goray it was summertime, a busy season. The townspeople were hauling timber from the forest; saws screeched and hammers banged, and children ran about. Young girls came out of the woods carrying full pails of blueberries and wild strawberries, heavy bundles of branches, baskets of mushrooms. The lord of Goray allowed the townspeople to fish in his pond, and every family dried fruit to preserve it for the rest of the year. At dusk, when Rabbi Benish walked to the prayer house, the air smelled of fresh milk and of chimney smoke, and everything seemed to be as it had been before. At such moments, he would raise his eyes to Heaven and thank God for having saved a remnant of his flock, for not having allowed it to be completely destroyed, as they had been in other communities. But now, after the Feast of Tabernacles had passed, as the cold season began, the havoc in Goray became more apparent. Most of the empty windows were boarded up or stuffed with rags. There were no warm clothes for the children to wear, so they sat at home and did not attend school. The rain left pools of water to mirror the houses with their patched walls and roofs. The harvest was meager, and the little wheat that was reaped could not be milled, for the miller was one of those who had perished. The mill locks had been broken, the earthen dam trampled. For a bit of bread the folk of Goray had to crush the kernels by hand in oaken bowls and bake the heavy dough over an open flame Many families never had a taste of even this poor bread. To make matters worse, Rabbi Benish's household was engaged in an interminable family quarrel that had been smoldering for years, since before 1648. The rabbi's eldest son, Ozer, was a worthless man, a bad scholar and an idler. Almost fifty years old, he still sat at his father's board with his wife and children. Ozer was tall, stooped, rapid in his movements, and quick-tempered. His rumpled velvet hat was always askew, his shirt open, his vest unbuttoned and stained. He had a nose that curved like a beak, two large bird eyes, and a straw-colored, unkempt beard. Before 1648 Ozer used to sit in the tavern for days on end, playing chess or gambling with dice, enjoying all kinds of gossip and malicious talk. He never thought of his wife and children, had no serious ambition, and always held a piece of chalk between his fingers with which he perpetually marked calculations on every closet and table that he passed. He was the same scatterbrain now as before 1648. The rabbi disliked Ozer, and seldom spoke a word to him. Ozer sat in the kitchen with the women, warmed himself at the stove and peered into the pots, until his mother, the rabbi's wife, would drive him away with a broom, crying, "Aren't you ashamed, a man your age! Why, it's a public scandal!" Levi, the rabbi's youngest, was in his thirties, and quite different from his brother. He was short, black as a gypsy, immaculate, a haughty man with a dignified bearing. His roundish beard was fine-combed, his earlocks genteel and curled. Levi brought fine garments back with him from Lublin, and strolled around shabby Goray in a flowered silk dressing gown with satin trim, slippers with pompons, and a sparkling new velvet hat on his head. His gait was measured, he mingled little with the other members of the household, and rarely entered his father's room. His mother sent delicacies to him in his alcove, stuffing and pampering him until she aroused the envy of Ozer and his children. Moreover, Levi's wife Nechele had been the only daughter of a rich merchant. Her father had been murdered in Narol during the massacre in that town; Nechele had been reared in the home of wealthy relatives in Lublin. She behaved as she had in the past, lying abed till late in the afternoon waiting for her mother-in-law to send the maid to her with a jug of