Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 34 of a new online serial novel, Nine A.M., by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters.
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Name: Schvirtz, Binyamin
Son of: Asher and Rechel Schvirtz
Hospitalized on: 01-01-78
Reason: Intestinal Infection
Discharge: 05-01-78
Did he remember that? Very vaguely. He remembered having painful stomachaches, and figures passing by near his bed. Was his father one of them? Most likely; based on the date, it was half a year before his passing.
Binyamin stood near the open drawer, one of dozens, and held the precious card file. It was easy to get to—much easier than he’d thought. The whole wall unit was made up of endless drawers, and they were divided clearly into half-year periods. He easily found the card file for the first half of 1978, and there he was, the name on the first card.
With a bit more patience, he’d find his father’s file.
Aside for him, there were only two others in the infirmary right now, and their even breathing hummed in his ears like an all-clear siren that could change at any moment. He wasn’t worried about Zuretzky from the bakery; he was an innocent youth, a bit of a nebbach, who would easily accept any excuse for what Binyamin was doing in the event he’d suddenly wake up and ask.
But David Elkovitz, Leo Sherer’s son-in-law…well, let’s just say it was better for him to remain sleeping as long as possible.
It was almost completely dark. A bit of moonlight shone through the window on the other side of the room. On his side, the darkness was thick, aside for a tiny bulb that glowed on top of the main desk. Binyamin took a deep breath and leafed to the next card, and the one after it, and then the one after. None of them had his father’s name.
A thin wail pierced the air. The baby! Elkovitz’s baby!
Quickly and silently, Binyamin closed the open drawer, hiding the card file behind his back, and slipped stealthily back to his bed. His grandmother had chosen the bed closest to the desk for him. She had wanted to keep an eye on him, but it also meant that he was closest to both the drawers with the documents and the light. He covered himself with his blanket and only then allowed himself to breathe easier.
Elkovitz slept on at the other end of the room, and his daughter’s weak wails grew hoarse. Was she cold? No, the room was warm and pleasant. So why was she crying? Maybe she needed to eat or to be changed? Her father didn’t seem to hear anything at all.
Binyamin considered waking the man. He sat up in bed and looked toward the cradle where the little girl lay wailing. Elkovitz began to move in his bed, and he suddenly raised his head. He was on his feet in a flash. “What happened?” he murmured sleepily. “What happened, Cherut? Why are you crying?”
Binyamin cautiously lay back down. It was better if Elkovitz did not even notice that he was awake.
He quietly turned over so his back was to the man and his daughter; like this he was facing the dim light. He pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, with the card file next to him. Careful not to make a sound, he pulled out a thin stack of cards and drew it closer to his eyes. Someone else’s intestinal infection. Next, a worker’s broken leg. A branch that poked the eye of…Leo Sherer? He was too young to remember this story.
Another card, and another. He was coming to the end of the diagnostic cards for this half of 1978. And he hadn’t yet found his father’s.
Binyamin took out the last card. It wasn’t his father’s either; it was the Zuretzky family’s baby, who was born with a weak heart and remained in the infirmary for more than four months after birth. Ooohhh, that must be Iszak Zuretzky, who was frequently hospitalized here. Poor guy.
Based on these cards, in that half a year, fifteen years ago, no one in the camp had passed away.
But that wasn’t true; he knew his father had passed away during that time!
Could there be a mix-up between the secular date and the Hebrew date?
Elkovitz murmured something to his baby in a quiet voice, and if Binyamin was not mistaken, it was Adon Olam. Silently, Binyamin returned the cards to the metal box, his subversive actions concealed by his blanket, as he waited impatiently for the baby to calm down and her father to go back to sleep. He had to take advantage of this opportunity, because the infirmary was not always unstaffed at night, as it was now.
Slowly, the song faded out, and silence fell once again on the room. Binyamin didn’t dare move.
The hands on the large clock hanging on the wall of the clinic turned three more times, which felt like an eternity, and only then did he turn around. By the light of the moon, he saw that the man was sitting on a chair, one handing resting on the baby; his eyes were closed. Binyamin waited a few more minutes and then stood up slowly. He got off the bed, hugging the card file, and went back to the drawers.
He opened the drawer, put the file back, and reached for the one to its right. Maybe by mistake, his father’s card had been placed in the second half of the year?
“Can I help you?”
Binyamin turned around slowly. His hand fell from the open drawer.
Leo’s son-in-law stood about ten feet away, staring at him.
“Not really,” Binyamin said quietly.
“It looks like you were searching for something in the drawers. Does something hurt you? Because if so, this is not where the medicines are kept. They are in a locked cabinet. But if you’re really, really in pain, or there’s some other urgent matter, you can press this button. It’s a bell to the house of the doctor, Dr. Katzburg.” Elkovitz pointed to a black metal box hanging on the wall to his right, with a large red button in the middle. “Should I press it for you?” he asked. Binyamin didn’t know if that look in his eyes was hostile, or if he was just imagining it.
“No thanks.”
“You weren’t looking for something to help you relax?”
Binyamin closed the drawer that had remained open behind his back, and slowly went back to his bed. “No,” he said as he sat down on it.
“So what do you need? Those drawers are full of paperwork aren’t they? Doesn’t sound nice to me to be prying into other people’s medical records.”
“It’s also not nice to follow other people around.”
“The minute you got up so slowly from your bed the first time, it looked to me like you were plotting something.” He sat down on the chair in the middle of the room. “But you are from a good family, Schvirtz. We hear good things about you. It’s hard for me to believe that you even know how to do foolish things.”
“I really wasn’t doing something foolish.”
“So what were you doing?”
He was persistent. But Binyamin knew how to be equally persistent. He reminded himself that this was someone who, as far as he knew from Naomi, was in the process of becoming more religious for a long time already. Did that mean he didn’t have to be afraid of him?
“I wanted to find a card from an old hospitalization of mine, from the last time I was here.”
“Now?” Elkovitz wrinkled his nose.
“I was a kid, fifteen years ago.”
“I meant to ask why you chose to do it now, at night, like a thief. If you wanted to, you could have asked your grandmother to find it for you.” His tone was laced with doubt, but his baby suddenly started crying, drowning out all the tones, those that were there and those that were not. “Don’t cry, Cherut,” he murmured, hurrying over to her. “Where is your milk bottle? Here, here…”
“You choose very unique names for your children,” Binyamin remarked form his bed. “Dror, Cherut. Hebrew names.”
“I like the way they sound.”
“And the meaning?”
“Is there someone here who likes living in this place?”
“It is good here,” Binyamin said. “The world around us just wants to swallow us up, if we go out there. Did you see the article in the newspaper they gave out at the end of last week? Did you read that they discovered a new way to detect Jews?”
“Yes, I read it.” He was busy with the bottle and his daughter for a few long moments. Then he raised his head and said, “It’s fine, you can go and check your papers, or whatever you want. I won’t bother you.”
“Thank you,” Binyamin said, but then slipped down into a lying position.
“I meant that I won’t bother you even after you get released. I know how to forget things.”
He turned his back to Binyamin’s bed and once again began to hum Adon Olam to his daughter. Binyamin raised himself on his left elbow and studied Elkovitz’s back.
After a long moment, he slid back down onto the cold floor and walked over to the wall of drawers.
***
Dena walked around the quiet, clean house. Night had fallen. She couldn’t help herself and dialed her parents’ house.
“Dena’le!” Her mother immediately recognized her voice. “I’m so glad you called! Mazel tov on your anniversary, and many, many more!”
“Amen, thanks.” Her daughter could hardly bring herself to talk.
“Just before, as soon as I remembered the date, I took out your wedding pictures. You were such a beautiful kallah, Dena, and you both have so much chein… You know, I think about you all day. I am so proud of you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you’re a wonderful wife, Dena.”
“I am?”
“Sure,” her mother said confidently.
Dena was quiet. She wasn’t childish enough to say to her mother, “No, I’m a bad wife,” so that her mother should say, “No, you’re good.” But still.
“But I didn’t do anything today, Ima.” She was near tears. “The cleaning lady cleaned the house, my mother-in-law cooked the hot meal we ate… I really didn’t do anything!”
“Well, what about the children?”
“Of course I took care of them. But that’s not what I mean.”
“And who warmed up the food?”
“Ima, please. Every normal woman does these things, even non-Jewish ones! She takes care of her kids, warms up their food…”
“Dena!”
“I’m not in a great mood tonight, Ima,” Dena said with a sniff. “But don’t worry. Most of the time I’m fine.”
“Okay, darling… I hope you feel better.”
They hurried to end the call because the minutes accumulated into lots of money, but it was hard to say that Dena’s mother was calm now.
“I’m going to call her shivgger,” she told her husband.
“The shivgger? Why, are there problems there?”
“I don’t think so, but Dena doesn’t sound good.” She took out her phone book from the drawer. “Three minutes, not more. They need to know what’s going on with her.”
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