Job by Joseph Roth Page A

a letter folded lengthwise and read the address and name of the Singers in his peculiar fashion, so that everyone laughed again. “America!” the man then said, and handed Mendel Singer the letter. A happy suspicion arose in Mendel and lit up his face. “Shemariah,” he said. With a motion of his hand he sent off his pupils as one waves away flies. They ran out. The stranger sat down. Deborah set tea, sweets and soda on the table. Mendel opened the letter. Deborah and Miriam sat down too. And Singer began to read aloud the following:
Dear Father, dear Mother, precious Miriam and good Menuchim!
    I don’t address Jonas, because he is in the military. I also ask you not to send him this letter directly, because he might end up in adverse circumstances if he corresponds with a brother who is adeserter. That’s also why I have waited so long and not written to you by mail until I finally had the opportunity to send you this letter with my good friend Mac. He knows all of you from my stories, but he won’t be able to speak a word with you, because not only is he an American, but his parents were born in America too, and he’s not a Jew either. But he’s better than ten Jews.
    And so I’ll tell you everything, from the beginning until today: At first, when I crossed the border, I had nothing to eat, only two rubles in my pocket, but I thought, God will help. From a Trieste shipping company a man with an official cap came to the border to pick us up. We were twelve men, the other eleven all had money, they bought false papers and ship tickets, and the agent of the shipping company brought them to the train. I went along. I thought, it can’t do any harm. I’ll go along, in any case I’ll see how it is when you journey to America. So I stay behind alone with the agent, and he’s surprised that I’m not going too. ‘I don’t have any kopecks,’ I say to the agent. He asks whether I read and write. ‘A little bit,’ I say, ‘but maybe it’s enough.’ Well, to be brief, the man had a job for me: every day, when the deserters arrive, go to the border, pick them up and buy them everything and persuade them that in America milk and honey flow. Well: I begin to work and give fifty percent of my earnings to the agent, because I’m only a sub-agent. He wears a cap with a gold-embroidered firm, I have only an armband. After two months I tell him I need sixty percent, or else I’ll quit the job. He gives sixty. To make a long story short, I meet a pretty girl at my lodging, her name is Vega, and now she’s your daughter-in-law. Herfather gave me some money to start a business, but I can never forget how the eleven went to America, and how I alone stayed behind. So I take leave of Vega, I know all about ships, it’s my trade after all – and so I go to America. And here I am, two months ago Vega came here, we got married and are very happy. Mac has the pictures in his pocket. At first I sewed buttons on pants, then I ironed pants, then I sewed linings in sleeves, and I almost would have become a tailor, like all Jews in America. But then I met Mac on an excursion to Long Island, right at Fort Lafayette. When you’re here, I’ll show you the place. From then on I began to work with him, all sorts of businesses. Until we took up insurance. I insure the Jews and he the Irish, I’ve even insured a few Christians. Mac will give you ten dollars from me, buy yourselves something with it, for the journey. Because soon I will send you ship tickets, with God’s help.
    I embrace and kiss you all. Your son, Shemariah
    (here my name is Sam)
    After Mendel Singer had finished the letter, there was a ringing silence in the room, which seemed to mingle with the stillness of the late summer day and out of which all the members of the family thought they heard the voice of the emigrated son. Yes, Shemariah himself spoke, over there, worlds