Satan in Goray - Isaac Bashevis Singer [52]
tents," the congregation burst into lamentation. One old man beat his head with his fists, and cried: "Father in Heaven, you have tested us sufficiently! Now display your might!" Rosh Hashana eve was cool and damp. The sky, which all summer long had been as blue as the curtain of the Torah Ark, and somewhat broader and higher than usual, contracted. Now the town seemed enclosed in a dark canvas tent. The hills, which had been green and evocative of the holy land, disappeared, wiped off the face of the earth. The smoke, reluctant to leave the chimneys, spread over the houses, as though space had shrunken. Not until sunset did the pious lose hope in the possibility of a miracle. Miracles, they knew, always occur unexpectedly, when people are looking the other way. Perhaps just an instant before sunset the cloud would appear and carry them all off to the holy land. Some had even had a presentiment that it would happen thus. Reb Godel Chasid was steadfast; God, he argued, was testing the people of Goray to see whether they truly believed in Him with their whole heart. He went so far in his obstinacy that it angered him to see his household preparing food; he put out the fire in the oven, so certain that the eve-ning meal would be eaten in the Land of Israel. Not until it grew dark and the stars could be seen peeping through the clouds did it become clear to the people of Goray that the Exile was to continue during the High Holy Days. The women sat with downcast eyes and rigid bodies in the unlit houses. The unkempt men hastened to the prayer house, unwashed and with straggly beards. Too ashamed to commune with one another, they immediately began the long overdue afternoon prayers. Reb Gedaliya had returned from the hills a few hours before. He stood at the lectern reading the evening prayers, singing in a loud tearful voice and completely enveloped in his prayer shawl and white robe. His every groan set the congregation shaking, like trees in a storm. The women wailed as though they were mourning for the dead. After the prayers, the worshipers left quickly, without wishing one an-other a happy new year. There were no candles in town, and so the people of Goray sat in the darkness that night, or burned kindling chips. At the holiday feast they had nothing but meat and last year's kidney beans, though they were weary of meat. Those who were fortunate enough to have a loaf of bread divided it into slices which were sent their relatives to share. The children cried hard, complaining that they had been fooled.... They wanted to go to Jerusalem.... They wanted to wear little golden jackets.... They wanted wings, so they could fly through the air.... They wanted the marzipan candy and the gold coins in the broth that they had been promised.... Their fathers looked dejected and toyed with the food, eating merely to fulfill the religious duty, in order not to appear to be fasting on Rosh Hashana. They sang the High Holy Day hymns with hoarse, quavering voices and quickly went off to sleep behind the oven, silent and irritable. Mothers quieted the sucklings by nursing them, and sat up late next to the children's cribs and beds, sleepily telling stories to keep the little ones from asking questions. Though it was a High Holy Day, the silent feuds between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, mother and daughter, brother and sister, persisted, as bitter as ever. The people of Goray fell asleep in their clothes, their mouths open and their hearts hollow, as in times of persecution when Jews are never sure that they will live through the next day. On both the first and the second day of Rosh Hashana Reb Gedaliya preached before the ram's horn was blown. His face was cinder-red, his eyes flashed, and every word he spoke lightened the heart of the congregation. He argued that this marred holiday was the last of the trials that God was inflicting on his people. Reb Gedaliya compared the present time to the hour before dawn, when the sky must become darkest so that the sun might shine forth in all its splendor. He called on all in the congregation