Free All Backs Were Turned by Marek Hlasko Page A

you liked?”
    Once again she fixed her eyes on Israel, and they studied each other. She gazed at his tired, alert, and handsome face; he stared at her thick hair and strong, brown neck.
    â€œNo,” she said.
    The old man released Israel’s arm and patted Esther’s cheek. “You’re a good child, Esther,” he said. “I’m sorry it is one of my sons that will ruin your life.”
    â€œDoes a man have to believe in violence and beat up people to deserve respect?” Israel asked.
    â€œNo,” the old man said. “He doesn’t. He can die like all good Jews did.” He turned around and began to walk away. When he reached the doorway, he stopped and faced them again; and again they saw his wrinkled face and his madman’s eyes. “Why don’t you have a child, Esther?” he asked suddenly.
    â€œWe’ve been married only three months, Pop,” Esther said, not looking at either of them. “We thought we would wait awhile—”
    â€œI can’t wait,” the old man said impatiently. “I’m eighty years old, Esther. At this age every day is a gift from God. I want to see my grandsons before I die. My older son won’t have any children, so it is my younger son’s duty to give me that joy. I’ll ask you again a month from now, Esther. Remember, I love you like my own daughter.”
    â€œYes, Pop,” she said. She stepped up to him. “Pop, I want to ask you something.”
    â€œYes, Esther?”
    â€œWhat will happen to Dina, Dov’s wife?”
    â€œNothing, Esther,” the old man said. “Nothing happens to women throughout their lives. They come into this world and they die unchanged.”
    â€œBut what do you think should happen to her, Pop?”
    â€œI don’t know, Esther. You heard what my son said. He came to me and said his wife was going to give birth to a bastard.” He paused. “When I was a kid, my father bought a German shepherd bitch. But he didn’t keep a close watch on her and one day she was covered by a mongrel. When she whelped, we went to the river and drowned the pups. And the next day my father took the bitch and his gun and went to the woods. He never told me what he did with her. What d’you think?”
    â€œYour father was a wise man, Pop,” Esther said. “That’s what I think.”
    â€œSo do I,” Dov’s father said and went out into the hall. They listened to the heavy tread of his receding footsteps, and then they heard his quiet, monotonous voice; he had begun to pray.
    â€œYou don’t have an easy life with him here,” Israel said. He was still looking at Esther, at her strong neck and thick eyebrows, which came together above her nose, just like Dov’s.
    â€œYou won’t either,” she said.
    â€œDov was right,” Israel said softly. “He’s cruel like a child. Like every old person, like my mother.”
    â€œWhere’s your mother now?”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said. “I just know where I buried her.”
    They heard through the window the roar of the jeep’s engine and the squeal of brakes; a moment later Dov marched into the kitchen. He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor.
    â€œGo to the airport, Israel,” he said. “I had the brakes fixed; they should work fine now. The plane’s landing in a few minutes.”
    â€œI wish you’d go the first time,” Israel said.
    â€œYeah, I know,” Dov said. “But I want you to go. Maybe you’ll turn my luck.”
    â€œListen, Dov—”
    Dov reached into his pocket for the car keys and tossed them to him. “The plane’s coming.”
    â€œDov,” Israel said, “I think they’re right, all those people who feel we shouldn’t stick together. Your father is right, your brother is right, and so was the fat guy who lent you his jeep. I don’t