Free The River Midnight by Lilian Nattel

authorities don’t want us to know what’s going on. That’s why they shut down the Yiddish newspaper. And don’t think we’re the only ones to be denied our own language. It’s illegal to teach Polish, too. But a Jew is always in the middle.” Faygela sighed. “The Russians say that we’re in bed with Polish rebels and the Poles accuse us of supporting the Russian oppressors. If you can read Russian …”
    “I can write a plain letter in Yiddish like most people. But you won’t catch me learning to read Russian or Polish. What for? Do the peasants read? Not a word,” the blacksmith’s wife said. “God forbid that we should have some dealings with the authorities, then it’s the Rabbi’s job to take care of it. Am I right?” The women nodded.
    “You don’t know what you’re missing. There are wonderful books in Polish and in Russian, too. Listen to this.” Faygela picked up a book protected by a covering of brown paper on which she had written,
Adam Mickiewicz, the Polish Prophet.
“ ‘In the beginning, there was belief in one God, and there was Freedom in the world. And there were no laws, only the will of God, and there were no lords and slaves.’ Doesn’t it make you think?” The women looked at her blankly. Stubbornly,Faygela went on. “If you ask me, I would say that there was always one law, that people should look for the truth.”
    Oh, yes, the women said. It’s too easy to believe a liar. And when it comes to lying, the authorities are experts. You can’t trust one of them. Hanna-Leah says that as long as there’s a single Jew, someone will be aggravated. With the tax on kosher meat, it’s hard to buy even a piece of flank for
Shabbas.
How will it end, Faygela?
    “According to the Tsar’s minister, one-third of us will leave the country, one-third will convert, and one third will starve to death. It’s written right here.” Faygela lifted
The Israelite
, a Jewish newspaper written in Polish and permitted by the authorities because it encouraged assimilation. “When my Shmuel goes to Plotsk, he sees hungry faces everywhere, and it’s better here in Poland than around Minsk. The farther east you go, the worse it gets. That’s why you see so many strangers these days. People have nothing, and they’re looking for somewhere they can have a life.”
    It’s true. Who ever saw so many strangers coming through Blaszka? Nobody knows where they’re from and where they’re going, the women said. You need eyes in the back of your head when there are strangers around. Beggars, peddlers, students, Gypsies. I say the worst are the Russian Jews. They’re poor and they’re dirty. And we’re not poor? At least we have a home.
    “Listen to me, women,” Faygela said. “I’ll tell you a story about strangers.” She rested her chin on her two fists, looking off into the distance as if she were watching the story unfold in front of her. “It happened in the time of King Krak. A girl was going to give birth. It was her first baby and she was terrified. She was all alone. Her husband was away peddling. Her mother-in-law was visiting her relatives, because the baby was early. No one expected it. And, poor girl, she had no sisters. So she was alone, groaning. You know how it is.”
    The women nodded. She thought she’d die alone, they said.
    “Yes, exactly. It was a winter day just like this, with the snow blowing and the wind tearing your skin off your bones. So what happens? There was a knock at the door. And who should come in, but the demon Lilith. It’s true. Well, of course the girl fainted on the spot. She knew that Lilith must have come to steal her baby, and there was no one to protect her. Not even an amulet on the wall.”
    “How did Lilith look?” asked the young girl whose husband had gone away.
    “Not like you’d expect. No horns. Not even a cloven foot. No, she had the prettiest, dainty feet, like a princess. Her hair was long and blonde, but she had strong hands. When