“b) I beseech and implore you not to set any tombstone on my grave, and if my relatives wish to make a mark on my grave let them make it of wood and write on it in simple letters, ‘Here lies Hayim,’ and add nothing more but the initials of the phrase ‘May his soul be bound up in the bond of everlasting life.’
“c) I beseech and implore the illustrious President of the Rabbinical Court, may he live long and well, to forgive me for harassing him and offending him in public; although he surely has forgiven me of himself the humiliation I caused him, in any case I beg of him to cast out any grudge from his heart.
“d) I beseech and implore anyone to whom I have done any injury, either in body or in property, by controversy and argument — if they are alive I beg of them to pardon me with all their hearts, and if they have passed away and the place of their burial is known, I beg of merciful men, if they should happen to come across their graves, to go to beg pardon of them in my name. But they should not spend money for this purpose, as in hiring a quorum of ten men to go to their graves.
“e) I beseech and implore my daughters to show respect to their mother and not trouble her by word or hint, and I particularly beg pardon of her for all the trouble I have caused her in this world.
“f) Since no man knows his last day, therefore I charge, with the force of the charge to fulfill the commands of the dead, that, if I die and am buried on a day on which supplications are recited, no funeral orations should be delivered, and no orations be pronounced after the seven days of mourning.
“g) But I ask that a chapter of Mishna should be studied for the repose of my soul. For this purpose I leave a sum of money that I have earned by the labor of my body. And I look forward to the mercy of heaven and the mercy of men to deal graciously with my soul, studying the Mishna with the commentary, word by word, and reciting the Rabbinical Kaddish after they study, according to custom and habit. And after the Rabbinical Kaddish, they should recite Psalm 102, the prayer of the afflicted. And I am certain and confident that my virtuous daughters, long may they live, will bear me no grudge that I spend the sum of money which should have come to them as an inheritance for my own benefit and pleasure, and I hope for the mercy of heaven, for in the welfare of their father they shall fare well all their days.”
Furthermore, it was written at the end of the sheet: “The chattels that I leave behind, such as the cooking stove, the vessel in which I boiled my coffee, my garments, such as the coat, and any other chattels that may be of any use or benefit, should be handed over as an unfettered gift to the poor and afflicted man, the honorable Yitzhak, known as Ignatz. And nothing should be altered of all the matters I prescribe this day, as if it were the charge of one at death’s door, although I have written all these things being of as good health as any man. And may my words bring blessings to those who heed them.”
So Reb Hayim went to his last home and was privileged to be buried on the day he died. As we were walking behind his coffin, the rabbi bent forward and said, “Reb Hayim was worthy to have a great funeral oration pronounced at his burial, for the funeral oration of a righteous man arouses men’s hearts to penitence; but what can we do when he died on the Sabbath eve, on which no funeral orations are pronounced? Besides, he charged that there should be no oration, did he not? As a result of this, he belongs to the category of great scholars who have not been properly mourned, for according to the law it is forbidden to mourn him, and we must beg for mercy, that we should not suffer those penalties prescribed in the Gemara for a great scholar who was not properly mourned.”
Chapter one and seventy. After the Death of Reb Hayim
After the sealing of the grave, Zechariah Rosen took hold of me and brought me to the old graveyard, where he showed me the graves of the great men and rabbis of Szibucz, who glorified our town with their learning and revealed its merits to the world. Some of them were his relatives, some his friends’ relatives, and some his wife’s — she, too, was his relative, for high-bred families are in the habit of marrying into each other. As we stood there, he read out to me every single tombstone; even if there were stones on which not a single letter could be made out, Zechariah knew what was written on them. And he told me more than was written. It would be no exaggeration to say that if these things were included among the marvelous tales in The Chain of the Kabbalah they would be a great novelty.
When the day was over I came back to the town. I felt so weary that I did not go to synagogue, but welcomed the Sabbath in the hotel.
Mrs. Zommer lit the candles, recited the blessing with a tear in her eyes, and went to Rachel, while Mr. Zommer sat at the end of the table and recited the prayers sadly. While he was praying, Mrs. Zommer came back and stood in front of her husband, clasping her hands in anguish and urging him to shorten his prayers and go to call Sara Pearl, for there was no other midwife in the town.
Mr. Zommer took off his sash, took up his stick, and went off like a man who is going toward grief and pain, for since the day Rachel married Yeruham there had been no peace between the house of Zommer and the house of Bach. Krolka came in, went out, and came in again, opened the outside door, and went out with a candle in her hand to light the way for those who were expected.
Sara Pearl arrived and went in to Rachel. She stayed with her for an hour, soothed and encouraged her, kissed her on the forehead and called her “daughter.” Rachel clung to her, like a daughter to her mother. When Sara Pearl came in, it seemed as if the two families had made peace with one another. As she was about to go, she met Yeruham, which was a hard thing for the house of Zommer, for it reminded them of Erela’s shame.
Because of Rachel’s trouble, Babtchi’s troubles were forgotten. Riegel had lost interest in her, and David Moses had become betrothed to another. Two or three weeks before, David Moses had written to Babtchi that she was his only love in this world and the next (he had caught his father’s style); without her he had nothing to live for. Then came a newspaper giving his name together with that of his betrothed. So who was left for Babtchi? No one but Zwirn. And he began to behave to her in lordly fashion, since the desire for money had grown stronger than the desire for love, and exercised a pull on it, as a pound pulls on a copper. Sometimes Babtchi beamed at Zwirn as if his heart were still in her pocket, but he made her work like a man and stinted her wages. In this world, everything is twisted. Even the things that are deformed become still more deformed.
Babtchi sits dressed up in her best clothes. These are the clothes she has been wearing since the day she cast her eye on the rabbi’s grandson. Because of them, she abandoned her old friends; in them she showed affection to Riegel; and they were bought with Zwirn’s money. If Zwirn does not change his mind before the clothes wear out, Babtchi will one day put on again her leather jacket, which is crumpled and worn out; she cannot buy another, for although there are guests in the hotel, the profit on them is not enough to buy new clothes.
Because of the guests, this guest who has come to stay for a while is ignored. He still lodges in the finest room in the hotel, but no attention is paid to his food and he is not served with proper meals. The guest does not protest or complain; for no one dies of hunger, only from too much eating, as Milch said. Sometimes the guest wonders whether he should go and lodge with Kuba, who says, “Better to live with me and not pay, than stay in the hotel and pay. Are you so fond of the smell of meat and fat, so fond of the noise and tumult, that you’ve stuck yourself away in the hotel?”
The guests who are to be found in the hotel every day are various: Just as their affairs are not similar, so are they not the same. Of those two guests who came on the morning of the Sabbath eve, one of them is just an ordinary man who could serve as a presence at a quorum for prayer or — if you will excuse the comparison — at a game of cards; while the other has a personality, with a fine beard and a broad belly and good sense, but he has not been doing good business lately. Perhaps you have heard the story of how a certain man leased a forest from a certain lady and paid her in full for the lease, but it turned out that her husband had sold it to Pan Jacobowitz without his wife’s permission. The man heard that Zommer’s son was friendly with the lady and could do him a good turn, but he did not hear which son, and he understood that they were talking about Dolik, who was a shrewd and crafty fellow. So he attached himself to him and engaged him in conversation so as to make friends with him, while Lolik seemed to him to have the appearance — if you will excuse me — of a girl who had been seduced, and was not worth talking to. And when Lolik made an effort to talk to him, he replied unwillingly, like those who are so engrossed with their own interests and begrudge every word that does not pay.