GIMPEL THE F09L
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I began to forget my sorrow. I loved the child madly, and he
loved me too.
As
soon as he saw me he'd wave his little hands and
want me to pick him up and when he was colicky I was the only one
who could quiet him. I bought him a little bone teething-ring, and
a little gilded cap. He was forever catching the evil-eye from someone
and then I had to run to get one of those abracadabras for him that
would get him out of it. I worked like an ox. You know how expenses
go up when there's an infant in the house. I don't want to lie about
it, I didn't dislike Elka either, for that matter. She swore at me and
cursed, and I couldn't get enough of her. What strength she had!
One of her looks could rob you of the power of speech. And her
orations! Pitch and sulphur, that's what they were full of, and yet
somehow also full of charm. I adored her every word. She gave me
bloody wounds, though.
In the evening I brought her a white loaf besides the dark one,
and also poppy-seed rolls which I baked myself. I thieved because of
her and swiped everything I could lay hands on, macaroons, raisins,
almonds, cakes. I hope I may be forgiven for stealing from the Satur–
day pots the women left to warm in the baker's oven. I would take
out scraps of meat, a chunk of pudding, a chicken leg or head, a
piece of tripe, whatever I could nip quickly. Elka ate and became
fat and handsome.
I had to sleep away from home all during the week, at the
bakery. On Friday nights when I got home, she always made an
excuse of some sort. Either she had heartburn, or a stitch in the
side, or hiccups or headaches. You know what women's excuses are. I
had a bitter time of it.
It
was rough. To add to it, this little brother
of hers, the bastard, was growing bigger. He'd put lumps on me, and
when I wanted to hit back, she'd open her mouth and curse so power–
fully that I saw a green haze floating before my eyes. Ten times
a day she threatened to divorce me. Another man in my place would
have taken French leave and disappeared. But I'm the type that
bears it and says nothing. What's one to do? Shoulders are from
God, and burdens too.
One night there was a calamity in the bakery; the oven burst
and we almost had a fire. There was nothing to do but go home, so
I went home. Let me, I thought, also taste the joy of sleeping in
bed in mid-week. I didn't want to wake the sleeping mite, and tip-
