The Day Miriam Hirsch Disappeared by Libby Fischer Hellmann

Author:Libby Fischer Hellmann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Red Herrings Press

***

If the boredom didn’t get me, the pretense did. Life in Hyde Park was intolerable. And hot. Not even a wisp of a breeze fluttered through the curtains of our wide-open windows. About a week later, it got so bad even my parents took off for the Michigan shore. I pled a toothache. As soon as they left, not without suspicious glances at the icepack clamped to my cheek, I hopped the street-car over to Lawndale. Mrs. Teitelman was washing the floor of the restaurant.

“Where have you been, Jake? Barney’s at a concert in Douglas Park. You just missed him.”

“I’ll wait.” I looked around. The place was empty. I snuck a glance at the door leading to the stairs.

“How are things?”

Mrs. Teitelman followed my gaze. She shrugged, a grim set to her mouth.

“Did Skull come back?”

Another shrug.

I was just breaking out a bottle of seltzer when the door to the stairs opened, and a man crossed the restaurant. He had blond whiskers, a round red face, and an odd twitch in one eye. He didn’t look Jewish. He hurried across the room, staring straight ahead, as if he knew he didn’t belong and wanted to get out fast.

A few minutes later, Miriam skipped down the steps, her smile as bright as a box of new Shabbos candles. I froze. Who was this impostor? Where was Skull? I felt betrayed. She waved at me before gliding out the door.

Barney got back from the park around four.

“What’s been going on around here?” I asked

“I don’t know.” He hung his head as if he were responsible for the turn of events.

“Didn’t they get back together?”

“Nope. He hasn’t been here at all. In fact—”

“What?” I was starting to feel panicky.

“I dunno, Jake. Sometimes she doesn’t come home at night. And then one time, her eyes were all red rimmed like she’d been crying, and her dress was ripped. She didn’t even have her key. My father had to let her in.”

“Jesus, Barney.”

He nodded. “And when she’s here, she’s ‘entertaining’ in her room. But it isn’t Skull.”

“The guy I saw earlier?”

“Yeah. I think he’s goyim. Mother’s ready to kick her out.”

I turned to Mrs. T in desperation. “You can’t do that. Where will she go?”

Mrs. T just looked at me. “Jacob, there are some things you’re still too young to understand.”

That afternoon we ran down to the pool hall and caught up with Skull at Miller’s. We were sweating like pigs, but he was cool and dapper.

“Where ya bin, Snake?” He grinned.

“I was grounded, Skull. My parents.” I rolled my eyes.

He looked at me speculatively. “Your parents must be real Nervous Nellies.”

“They’re German,” I admitted.

“So are Miriam’s,” Skull said. “Crabbers. Stiff as sandpaper.”

I took that as an opening and screwed up my courage. “How is Miriam these days?”

He ignored my question. “You know, it’s a damn shame about you Yeccas.” That was slang for German Jews. “One of the best guys I ever heard of was Arnold Rothstein. Practically started the Mafia. His family was German, but he was tops.

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