The Last Demon

Hadass stared at her over her shoulder.
    ‘What are you saying!’
    ‘It’s the truth.’
    ‘Someone might be listening.’
    ‘I’m not afraid.’
    ‘Eat the soup. I’ll bring the meat dumplings in a moment.’
    Hadass turned to go, her high heels clattering. Anshel began hunting for beans in the soup, fished one up, then let it fall. Her appetite was gone; her throat had closed up. She knew very well she was getting entangled in evil, but some force kept urging her on. Hadass reappeared, carrying a platter with two meat dumplings on it.
    ‘Why aren’t you eating?’
    ‘I’m thinking about you.’
    ‘What are you thinking?’
    ‘I want to marry you.’
    Hadass made a face as though she had swallowed something.
    ‘On such matters, you must speak to my father.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘The custom is to send a matchmaker.’
    She ran from the room, letting the door slam behind her. Laughing inwardly, Anshel thought: ‘With girls I can play as I please!’ She sprinkled salt on the soup and then pepper. She sat there lightheaded. What have I done? I must be going mad. There’s no other explanation … She forced herself to eat, but could taste nothing. Only then did Anshel remember that it was Avigdor who had wanted her to marry Hadass. From her confusion, a plan emerged; she would exact vengeance for Avigdor, and at the same time, through Hadass, draw him closer to herself. Hadass was a virgin: what did she know about men? A girl like that could be deceived for a long time. To be sure, Anshel too was a virgin but she knew a lot about such matters from the Gemara and from hearing men talk. Anshel was seized by both fear and glee, as a person is who is planning to deceive the whole community. She remembered the saying: ‘The public
are fools.’ She stood up and said aloud: ‘Now I’ll really start something.’
    That night Anshel didn’t sleep a wink. Every few minutes she got up for a drink of water. Her throat was parched, her forehead burned. Her brain worked away feverishly of its own volition. A quarrel seemed to be going on inside her. Her stomach throbbed and her knees ached. It was as if she had sealed a pact with Satan, the Evil One who plays tricks on human beings, who sets stumbling blocks and traps in their paths. By the time Anshel fell asleep, it was morning. She awoke more exhausted than before. But she could not go on sleeping on the bench at the widow’s. With an effort she rose and, taking the bag that held her phylacteries, set out for the study house. On the way whom should she meet but Hadass’s father. Anshel bade him a respectful good morning and received a friendly greeting in return. Reb Alter stroked his beard and engaged her in conversation:
    ‘My daughter Hadass must be serving you left-overs. You look starved.’
    ‘Your daughter is a fine girl, and very generous.’
    ‘So why are you so pale?’
    Anshel was silent for a minute. ‘Reb Alter, there’s something I must say to you.’
    ‘Well, go ahead, say it.’
    ‘Reb Alter, your daughter pleases me.’
    Alter Vishkower came to a halt. ‘Oh, does she? I thought yeshiva students didn’t talk about such things.’
    His eyes were full of laughter.
    ‘But it’s the truth.’
    ‘One doesn’t discuss these matters with the young man himself.’
    ‘But I’m an orphan.’
    ‘Well … in that case the custom is to send a marriage broker.’
    ‘Yes …’
    ‘What do you see in her?’
    ‘She’s beautiful … fine … intelligent …’
    ‘Well, well, well … Come along, tell me something about your family.’
    Alter Vishkower put his arm around Anshel and in this fashion the two continued walking until they reached the courtyard of the synagogue.
IV
    Once you say ‘A,’ you must say ‘B.’ Thoughts lead to words, words lead to deeds. Reb Alter Vishkower gave his consent to the match. Hadass’s mother Freyda Leah held back for a while. She said she wanted no more
Bechev yeshiva students for her daughter and would rather have someone from Lublin or Zamosc; but Hadass gave warning that if she were shamed publicly once more (the way she had been with Avigdor) she would throw herself into the well. As often happens with such ill-advised matches, everyone was strongly in favor of it – the rabbi, the relatives, Hadass’s girl friends. For some time the girls of Bechev had been eyeing Anshel longingly, watching from their windows when the youth passed by on the street. Anshel kept his boots well polished and did