Until the Dawn's Light_ A Novel - Aharon Appelfeld [62]
So the summer passed. In the autumn Otto began to cough a lot, and Blanca brought syrup for him from Blumenthal, but the cough didn’t go away. When she wanted to take him to Dr. Nussbaum, Adolf commented, “You’re going to doctors again.”
“Otto’s coughing a lot.”
“We all cough, and nobody dies.”
Blanca spirited Otto out to Dr. Nussbaum. He examined Otto and determined that the cough was serious and that if it wasn’t treated, he was liable to catch pneumonia. Blanca raced straight to the church from the doctor’s office. After the service, a lot of guests came to the house, and she served them sandwiches and drinks. Eventually they all dispersed, and Blanca remained with Otto.
“Mama,” Otto called out clearly.
“What, dear?”
“Sit next to me.”
“I’m sitting.”
“Don’t go away.”
“I’m not going away.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of what, dear?”
“Do you have anything nice to give me?”
“I have pudding.”
“Don’t go away.”
“I’m not going.”
Blanca sat and looked at him. A golden light poured onto his face, and he looked like the baby Jesus in the long painting above the altar in church. His face was pure, and his lips were closed tightly in concentration.
“Otto.” The word slipped out of her mouth.
“What, Mama?”
“Nothing.”
Just then the sun went down, and shadows were cast on the walls. Blanca hid her face in her hands, as she had done in her childhood when the fear of death assailed her.
46
A WINTER WITHOUT snow blew over the vacant lots near the old age home. The janitors were busy chopping wood most of the day, and their tight faces grew darker. Aside from their work in the courtyard, they did Elsa’s other bidding: they informed on the other workers and on the residents. But Elsa still didn’t trust them fully, either, and she punished them more than once. The janitors took it in stride. “Life isn’t worth a penny,” they would declare.
Several times Blanca was about to go down to the laundry, remove the jewels from their hiding place, and free herself from the nightmare. In her sleep she saw herself dragged off in handcuffs. Since Sonia had left for the east, Blanca’s life had no horizon or words. She worked from morning till night and was afraid of every shadow.
Sometimes, in the railway station, Blanca would meet a friend from high school or an acquaintance from the past. Those brief encounters left scratches on her heart. On her last trip she had met a friend from elementary school, a girl from a simple family who hadn’t excelled in anything and who also stuttered. The boys used to pick on her, and she would crouch in the hallway and cry. It was a muted, broken sobbing that sounded like a stifled whimper.
“Mina!” Blanca called out. She ran to her and hugged her. Mina hadn’t changed much. Her face was narrow, and her lips trembled a little. Now, too, speech cost her much effort.
“Surely you’re continuing your studies,” said Mina.
“No.”
“But you did so well.”
“I got married.”
“The teachers were so proud of you, and they always used you as an example.”
“They were exaggerating.”
“In my eyes you were a symbol of perfection,” said Mina, hanging her head.
They sat in the station café, and Blanca told her that since her wedding she hadn’t opened a book. She was working in the old age home in Blumenthal, and a woman from the country was taking care of her son.
At the end of the winter, Otto came down with a high fever, and Blanca took him to Dr. Nussbaum. Dr. Nussbaum examined him and directed her to have him hospitalized immediately, so Blanca went to Blumenthal to ask Elsa for leave without pay. To Blanca’s surprise, Elsa was generous this time and authorized her leave without saying a word. She even wished