Читать книгу If anything, I’m in the next room (Book about the Holocaust). English edition - Gertcel Davydov, Gertz (Gertcel) Davydov, Gertz Davydov - Страница 3

The next day, despite the rain, Miss Blunt, as planned, headed towards Mr. Gould’s small one-and-a-half-story house in the afternoon. There were many such buildings in the city.

At the door she ran into Chuck; he had already told Mr. Gould about the latest events and preparations for the premiere. Miss Blunt’s colleague said after the greeting that the director was very excited, as he had high hopes for the production.

“There will certainly be success,” said Miss Blunt, said goodbye to Chuck and went into the house.

She took off her shoes, hung her wet raincoat on a hanger and put the umbrella in a specially designated place, after which she headed to Mr. Gould’s spacious office, where he spent most of his time. On the left was a rich library; There was a desk on the right by the window, and opposite the entrance there was a fireplace, next to which there were two armchairs and a small table littered with books and newspapers.

On this Saturday morning, Mr. Gould, as usual, was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace. The thin old gentleman’s head had long been covered with gray hair. He looked carefully at the flames, thinking about something, until he heard Miss Blunt’s voice:

– Good afternoon, Mr. Gould.

When he saw Julie, he smiled and even stood up to hug her.

– You shouldn’t have gotten up…

“Julie, please don’t ever say that again!” A gentleman must stand up in the presence of a lady,” the director replied with a kind smile.

– Mr. Gould, you never cease to amaze me. Even with all the fuss that accompanies the premiere, you do not lose your spirit.

“Sadness is bad,” the director said instructively. – Over my long life, I have understood a lot and learned several lessons, and the most important thing is that you should not be sad and despair. We must enjoy every moment. It’s a pity that this realization comes at an old age.

The owner of the office invited Julie to a soft brown chair that stood closer to the bookshelves. After waiting for Mr. Gould to take the second seat, the actress said:

– You are right, as always, Mr. Gould. My fate is not easy. In early childhood, I was left alone, I was raised by my aunt, I experienced many difficulties, and sometimes I had thoughts of committing suicide, but someone always appeared who helped me overcome the difficult period. Do you know what I call such people?

– How? – asked the director.

– Angels. Yes, yes, exactly angels. Although I am not a religious person, I am convinced that they exist and in human form descend to earth to help people go through trials. Do you believe in angels? Do you believe in God?

Mr. Gould smiled and replied:

– You know, in life you often meet people who, for unknown reasons, try to help, to guide you to something. It doesn’t matter what you call them – angels or something else. Regarding your question about faith in God… I was born into a Jewish family in Poland and, as an infant, I survived the Holocaust with my family. They were thrown by the Nazis into concentration camps and died, but my mother and I remained alive because a Polish family hid us. I don’t remember much from that time,’ Mr. Gould paused, then continued thoughtfully: ‘All my long life, due to the horrific events of the Holocaust, I shunned religion, because I was convinced that God simply did not exist, and man himself I am the master of my own destiny, but now I feel that everything that happens has a plan. As sad as it is to realize this, over the years you realize that you had practically no control over your life, someone was directing you somewhere all the time, you were an actor in a global performance called Life, and who directed this performance – God or some other person? then other forces – I don’t know.

– Why did you take me then, took pity on the aspiring actress? – Julie decided to ask a question that had been tormenting her for a long time.

– No, that would be unprofessional on my part. The director first of all looks at a person, trying to discern his potential, his inner world, and I took you because I thought that you would become a good dramatic actress. And, as you can see, I was right.

– Thank you for giving me the chance. After meeting you, I began to look at many things differently.

Looking at the actress, Mr. Gould remarked:

– Julie, you must understand that theater is not the main thing in your life, you are still young and should try to start a family.

– What are you talking about, Mr. Gould?! – Julie exclaimed. “I’m already forty, and at that age it’s hard to get used to someone.” Besides, you know what men are like now: there are practically no gentlemen like you and Chuck left. You are like a father to me, and Chuck is like a brother.

“You still have a long way to go,” Mr. Gould repeated.

Miss Blunt shook her head sadly.

“I’m completely alone and have never really loved.” All I have is work in the theater. My personal life didn’t work out: I once really liked one guy, he looked after me so beautifully… But shortly before the wedding, he met someone else, left me and married her. Since then I’ve been alone.

Mr. Gould said nothing.

“If it weren’t for you and the theater, I don’t know what would happen to me now…” Julie added.

“You are a wonderful actress and I am grateful to fate that you continue to play in my productions,” said the director. “You could have performed on the best stages in the country, but you stayed here.”

– You know that I asked you for leave many times, went to auditions, but they didn’t take me anywhere.

The director sighed and said:

“I’m tired of telling you that these snobs have absolutely no taste, they understand nothing about the theater.” You are a wonderful dramatic actress, and if they didn’t see this, it means they lack professional skill.

Julie looked at the director and, shyly, said guiltily:

– Mr. Gould, I want to go to London again and try myself in the role of Gertrude in the new Globe production. Honestly, this will be the last attempt.

– Yes, of course, I don’t mind, you are a wonderful artist and deserve to work in the best theaters. When do you want to go? – asked Mr. Gould.

– The audition is on Monday, and if I am approved for the role, then rehearsals will begin in two months, in January.

– I assumed that the auditions would take place after the premiere, but you know the role well, so I don’t mind.

– Thank you! I’ll go early in the morning. The auditions are during the day, and in the evening I will have time to come to the rehearsal.

– We already rehearse a lot, you can easily take one day off.

“I promise you, this is the last time.” If they don’t take me this time, I’ll stop trying. On Monday my fate will be decided.

The director looked at the upset Julie and, trying to cheer her up, said:

– Fates are decided not by some theater directors, but by us ourselves, and if they don’t take you, it’s okay. Life doesn’t end there. You have a wonderful role as Rachel, and you will be able to delight the public for many years to come by performing it. Look at the programs we prepared, Chuck just brought them from the printing house.

Julie picked up the theater program, the main page of which was dedicated to their upcoming performance, looked at it and thoughtfully asked:

– Mr. Gould, are you sure that the performance will be a success? We talked with Mr. Drayson yesterday, he doesn’t quite share your optimism, he suggests taking our time and postponing the premiere for a month so that we can do more rehearsals.

Mr. Gould didn’t quite like the idea and even got out of his chair.

“Peter called me today to inquire about my health, and I assured him that everything would be at the highest level, and there was no need to postpone the premiere.

– And what did he answer you?

– He wished me luck and said that he liked our production more and more. There are a lot of mysteries, unpredictable turns, and the viewer will have a lot to think about.

– By the way, why did you like this particular work so much?

Walking over to the desk littered with papers, Mr. Gould took one of the books and handed it to Julie.

“Last spring, after one of our performances, a young man came up to me and said that he was a writer. I remember being so worried that I had difficulty pronouncing my name. Then he handed me this book with the words: “Read it, it describes a wonderful love story.” I was in a hurry, but I took the manuscript, thanked the author, and we said goodbye.

“Before the production, I had never even heard of this writer,” said Miss Blunt, looking at the colorful cover: “Akiva and Rachel. A story of great love.”

“Just like me at that time…” the director answered and continued: “So.” I put the manuscript on the shelf and completely forgot about it. As you know, I regularly visit bookstores and buy books that I plan to read. That evening I prepared two new volumes, began reading one of them, but the book seemed so uninteresting to me that already on the fifth page I closed it. The second one didn’t impress me either, so I put it aside too. Having rummaged around on the shelf in the hope of finding something new, I came across a forgotten book by that young man. Taking it, I thought: “Apparently, disappointment awaits me here too. It will probably be boring and uninteresting, and I won’t even get to the fifth page.” However, to my surprise, I was so carried away by the plot that I finished reading at five o’clock in the morning with tears in my eyes. This book made such an impression on me that the next day I re-read it and decided to make a theatrical production based on it.

Listening to the director, Miss Blunt continued to leaf through the book, at times reading into one passage or another. Then she asked:

– What, the author writes so well?

“He is still young, and he needs to polish his skills, but the love story of the main characters itself is extremely beautiful. As it turned out later, the novel was written based on historical facts, and the love story itself between Akiva and Rachel took place in Jerusalem about two thousand years ago. It was practically forgotten, but the author managed to breathe a second life into it, he built the plot so competently that empathy for the characters grows and grows until the very climax.

Looking at his interlocutor, who flipped through the book to the end and began to read the afterword, Mr. Gould continued:

– This book is not about religion, as it might seem at first glance. It tells about the transformation of personality and the power of human love, about the role of a woman in the fate of a man. The fact that love can work miracles and even from an ordinary illiterate shepherd, who only began to study the alphabet at the age of forty, can turn out to be one of the great sages of all times. Akiva managed to achieve this only thanks to his loving wife Rachel, who helped and supported her husband throughout the journey. She sent him money so that Akiva would continue to study, although everyone told her to face the truth, leave this shepherd who does not study, but plays with other women. But she believed, no matter what.

After thinking a little, the director added:

“I don’t know if he will be able to write anything more worthy, but he succeeded in this work – he felt the characters.” You know, this is always visible – the writer’s attitude towards the characters. It is certainly readable… sometimes, perhaps not quite clearly, between the lines, but it is readable.

“I agree with you there,” said Julie. – When a writer does not immerse himself in the plot, in the characters, no matter how brilliantly the book is written, you can immediately feel it.

Miss Blunt put the book on the table and looked thoughtfully at the director.

– After some time, I invited him to the theater, and we agreed on the production… That’s all, actually. In the process of working on the production, I made some changes to the script to give it more dynamism, although I tried to bring our performance as close as possible to the original. As for your question about whether the performance will succeed or not, I think it will be either a resounding success or a resounding failure.

“We will try not to let you down,” Julie assured. – Chuck is also doing everything to prepare for the premiere.

“Yes, Chuck works hard,” Mr. Gould agreed. “If it weren’t for him, I don’t know how I would have coped.” He reassured me, saying that almost everything was ready for the premiere, and what remained to be selected from the props – candlesticks, a couple of mugs and other utensils – I myself wanted to buy at a flea market: after all, you need to choose something special, something that will convey the atmosphere of that era, but nothing suitable was found in the warehouse.

– Do you have to do this yourself, could you send someone? – asked Miss Blunt.

– Julie, you know my method of work, I have to control the entire process: from how to properly arrange the light in each act to the purchase of missing equipment. For a good director, in every scene everything should be carefully selected, thought out to the smallest detail, since the smallest detail is part of a big action, and it should not distract the viewer’s attention from the main thing. I learned this from my theater mentors.

– What days is the flea market open?

– Only on weekends – on Saturday and Sunday until four o’clock. “I was going to go in the morning, but my heart just stopped,” the director put his hand to the left side of his chest. “Now he’ll let me go, and I’ll get ready.” Will you join me?

“It’s already three o’clock and you don’t look good today,” Julie said worriedly. “Your face is red, your blood pressure has probably jumped.” You rest, but today I have a day off and have nothing to do with myself. I’ll go get the mugs and antique candlesticks myself, and you, please, try to stay in bed.

The director shared Julie’s fears that if his condition actually worsened, Mr. Drayson would postpone the premiere indefinitely. He decided to heed the request not to leave the house.

– Fine! I might actually better lie down. I’ll now write you a list of the necessary props for the performance, and it is advisable to buy it all today, since tomorrow I plan to hold another rehearsal.

– Tomorrow is a day off!

– I’ll ask Chuck to call the sound engineer, lighting engineer and other workers, I want to go through all the material.

– Fine. I hope that by tomorrow you will feel much better, and if your condition remains the same, then you should remain in bed for a few more days.

“I assure you that I will be completely fine,” Mr. Gould said smiling and added: “There is money on the nightstand.” Take as much as you need.

– I have. Let me buy everything I need, and then you give it to me.

“I don’t understand how you still have anything left from the meager salary you receive in the theater.”

– This is art. We are artists and must be good at our craft,” Julie joked.

– So, take the money and don’t argue with your director! – Mr. Gould pointed to a low old cabinet by the door. “Otherwise, my stress may cause my blood pressure to rise even higher, although, in my opinion, it can’t go any further.”

– You always knew how to work with actors and make them do it the way you wanted.

They laughed.

Miss Blunt went to the flea market, located four blocks from Mr. Gould’s house, admiring the old streets and squares along the way. Approaching the place, Julie saw only two rows where merchants were offering old things, coins and other goods of the same kind. Having purchased everything she needed, she was about to leave the market, but, passing by an elderly woman selling paintings, she stopped. Julie’s attention was drawn to three unrolled, unframed canvases.

She was interested in painting and had long been planning to decorate the walls of her apartment with it. Why not start making your dreams come true now? Julie moved closer to get a better look at the canvases. The woman noticed her interest:

– Hello, miss. Which one did you like? If you take all three, I’ll give you a discount.

But Julie was looking at the canvases so intently that she didn’t even hear her. She slowly looked from one picture to another, studying them. The first, entitled “Bear,” dated 1929, depicts a clear morning in the forest and a bear chasing someone. The second painting, called “Pisces,” captured the day and the sun’s rays passing through the water. Two fish frolicked in the transparent waves. This painting was dated 1932. The third, from 1939, called “Owl,” depicted a sunset. The sun was gradually setting behind the horizon, the dense forest was green, and an owl was sitting on a tree branch…

Having once again carefully examined the paintings, without listening to what their owner was saying, Julie asked:

– Who is author?

Unfolding the picture and squinting, the woman read syllable by syllable: “Josef Schwarz, Mainz.”

– You sell paintings and don’t even know whose they are? – the actress was surprised.

“I’m far from painting, I’m a simple milkmaid…” the woman answered, as if justifying herself. “My father died last month, and when I was sorting out old things in the attic, I saw these pictures. He hid them from the authorities.

– Which authorities?

Ignoring the question, the saleswoman continued:

– He brought them from Germany after the war. There was also a watch and a German officer’s flask. Take these three paintings, the watch and the flask, all for a hundred pounds…

“I don’t need a watch and a flask, especially a German officer,” Julie answered. – I only want these paintings. How much are you asking?

After thinking, the elderly woman said:

– Sixty pounds.

Miss Blunt did not bargain. Having paid the required amount, she rolled up the canvases and carefully placed them in a bag along with her other purchases.

At home after dinner, she repeated the role, and then took out the purchased paintings from the closet. Laying them out on the table and pressing the edges with books to prevent them from curling up again, Julie began to look at the painting with even greater attention. She could not understand why she liked these pictures so much. The earliest one had the inscription: “Mainz, Germany, 1929.” Carefully folding the other two, Julie moved the bear canvas to the center of the table, pressed the books into the corners, and began studying again. The clock showed midnight when Julie, impressed by the picture, went to bed.