“Shah! I’ll fix this up in a minute so it’ll look like new from the store.” And Hanneh Breineh took out the red-flowered, Sabbath tablecloth from the bureau and tucked it around the lounge.
Meantime Moisheh, his eyes popping with excitement, raised clouds of dust as he swept dirt that had been gathering since Passover from the corners of the room.
Unable to wait any longer for the big moment, he had been secretly planning for weeks, zip! under the bed went the mountain of dirt, to be followed by the broom, which he kicked out of sight.
“Enough with the cleaning!” he commanded. “Come only around,” and he pulled out from the corner his Russian steamer basket.
“Oi—oi—oi—oi, and ai—ai!” the boarders shouted, hilariously. “Will you treat us to a holiday cake maybe?”
“Wait only!” He gesticulated grandly as he loosened the lock.
One by one he held up and displayed the treasured trousseau which little by little he had gathered together for his loved ones.
A set of red-woollen underwear for each of the brothers, and for his mother a thick, grey shirt. Heavy cotton socks, a blue-checked apron, and a red-velvet waist appeared next. And then—Moisheh was reduced to guttural grunts of primitive joy as he unfolded a rainbow tie for Feivel, the doctor, and pink suspenders for his “baby” brother.
Moisheh did not remove his clothes—no sleep for him that night. It was still dark when the sound of his heavy shoes, clumping around the kitchen as he cooked his breakfast, woke the rest of us.
“You got to come with me—I can’t hold myself together with so much joy,” he implored. There was no evading his entreaties, so I promised to get away as soon as I could and meet him at the dock.