Free Beyond the Pale: A Novel by Elana Dykewomon Page B

visions, when women are giving birth. Sometimes I can see a little bit of what will happen to their children. Milcah says sometimes I hear a bat kol. She told me not to tell anyone about this, but I—” Golde looked at me so sharply it made the sweat burn and prickle where my skin was exposed.
    “You can see the future?”
    “Only a little bit, when babies are born. Other times I just get a feeling.” I shrugged. I didn’t want her to think I was too strange to confide in.
    “Yes?”
    “Just a feeling. Here—,” I pressed my chest, “or sometimes in my arms or legs. Not like something is taking over me but like something is giving me a direction. It’s not such a big thing. I think if people paid more attention, more would admit to having ordinary visions.” I decided not to tell her about my little talis or about the time the dead came to Milcah’s.
    “You mean you think there are spirits around us all the time but only a few people admit they feel them?”
    “Not exactly.” It was so hot, I was shvitsing up all my clothes. “It’s more that everyone is so busy getting food on the table. Most people don’t have time for spirits. So they feel a tug at their elbow—they think it’s the wind.”
    Golde gave me a small sad smile. “Yes. I think you’re right. So smart for a girl.”
    “I’m not a girl,” I protested. “I bleed, I’ve seen 172 births and three women die.”
    “Really?” She patted my hand, almost forgetting I was there. “I apologize then.”
    “So. Yetta’s getting married?” I didn’t want her to drift away from me, even if I had to make her cry again.
    And she did. The tears balled up, fell down her face and nose quietly. “Yes. She’s marrying Leybl, who works for the railroad. The shadkhn says he’s very handsome and has a good steady job. I can’t bear it.”
    “But Golde, what could she do? If it’s a good match and the parents want it, how could she refuse?”
    “She could have just refused. She doesn’t care about him.”
    “So, she gets married. You can still see her.”
    “She doesn’t want to make a scandal.”
    “What scandal? You still have your shop, nu? So she comes in to have you make clothes or to help you with something. Pesah’s friend Sadie is here every day to help with the midday meal.”
    “Yes, but they’re old. And both married. And besides, they don’t feel about each other like I feel about Yetta.”
    “How do you know?”
    Again Golde stared at me. “Pesah Kohn touches Sadie Rabinovitch?”
    I blushed. “I don’t know for a fact. Only after I saw you and Yetta, I thought, maybe—”
    “Maybe. No, it can’t be.” She held my hand tightly, staring at something a long way off. “And you?”
    “Me?” The breath tangled in my lungs like an umbilical cord coming out before a baby. I took my hands away and folded them in my lap. Sweat was staining my blouse and back, dripping down the curve of my ears.
    “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask such things. Even if I am doomed to gehene for my sin. This room—it was a world apart for me. Please forgive me.”
    “Where is it written that love is a sin?” My breath came back to me.
    She sighed. “Among women, sins don’t have to be written. You should know that. Not marrying is a scandal, not having twelve children a sin. Reading Mendele is a sin. Not lighting the Shabbes candles is a sin, not baking bread for the poor is a sin—”
    “You don’t light the Shabbes candles?”
    “Of course I light the Shabbes candles. I’m just saying.”
    I was relieved somehow. I realized I had a picture in my mind of Golde bentshing likht, waving her hands over the flames, her dark eyes closed, her eyelids a delicate purple. My blush came back. “I don’t know the answer to your question,” I said, pushing the words out of me before I choked on them.
    “My question? Oh.” She looked all the way through me. Even in the steam, I could feel a coolness. “I don’t mean to insult you, but you