Until the Dawn's Light_ A Novel - Aharon Appelfeld [55]
“You have to take this from me,” she said. “It’s your livelihood.”
Whereupon the proprietor answered emotionally, “You’re like a daughter to me. I won’t accept it.”
When Blanca reached Grandma Carole’s house, the door was already open wide. In the living room, where Blanca used to play on the floor for hours when she was a child, Grandma Carole lay covered in a white sheet. Two candles burned near her head. The members of the Himmelburg burial society had already performed the necessary tasks, and they now stood at some distance from the deceased woman, waiting for mourners. “My name is Blanca, and I’m the dead woman’s granddaughter,” she said, introducing herself.
“Aside from you, are there other relatives?” asked a member of the burial society, without any special courtesy.
“There are two other grandchildren, but they live in Leipzig.”
“Out of respect for the deceased, we need some details.”
“I’m prepared to help in every way,” Blanca said, and immediately felt that her words were out of place.
“What was Grandma Carole’s Jewish name?”
“I don’t know, sir, on my honor, I don’t know. We called her Grandma Carole.”
“And what were the names of her father and mother?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
“Was your grandmother observant?”
“She was very meticulous in matters of the tradition, Rabbi.”
“I’m not a rabbi,” said the man.
“Sorry.”
“How or from what did the deceased pass away?”
“I don’t know, sir. For the past two years, I haven’t spoken with her.”
“Why?”
“She was angry at me, sir. I married a Christian and converted. Grandma Carole never forgave me for that. Once I tried to ask forgiveness from her, but she wouldn’t forgive me.”
“I understand,” said the man, bowing his head.
“And what will we do now, sir?”
“We’ll wait for the prayer quorum.”
Blanca knew that her question was stupid, and she was embarrassed. The winter light streamed through the windows and scattered the shadows that had gathered in the corners. Blanca remembered now that when she was a girl, she and her mother used to come here and sit on the sofa. Then, too, a sudden light would pour in and illuminate the dark corners.
Meanwhile, Brandstock arrived and said, “I didn’t manage to get anyone to come. People don’t want to come to a Jewish funeral. What can I do?”
“I don’t understand,” said the head of the burial society.
“That’s how it is with us, sir. The children become apostates, and their parents deny the tradition of their ancestors. What can I do?” There was no grace either in his look or his expression. His face betrayed the bluntness of a practical man, not a reader of books, and his manner of speech came from his store.
“We brought five men from Himmelburg, and a woman to ritually clean the body, and you can’t get together that number of people in this town?”
“I admit it: it’s a scandal, but I can’t do it. It’s not in my power. I went to all the Jewish stores and announced the funeral to them.”
“And what did they say to you?”
“They nodded their heads.”
“And no one promised to come?”
“Not a single one. You have to know, sir, that the deceased woman was hard. Every day she would stand at the entrance to the synagogue and denounce the converts to Christianity. They didn’t like her in the town, and it’s no wonder that nobody is coming to her funeral.”
“Strange,” said the head of the burial society, and he went outside.
Later, a few old men and women gathered and stood around the dead woman. One of the old men complained about their having left her on the floor. The head of the burial society explained the reason for that to the old man, but the old man wouldn’t agree with him and argued that a Christian burial was dignified. They didn’t leave the corpse on the floor. The Jews had contempt for their dead.
Then the funeral procession left for the cemetery. The old men apologized and said, “We can’t walk that far,” and they went home. The men from the burial society bore