Bubbe's Place: Stories

The Business Trip

In the old country young people became independent much earlier than we do today. To begin with most Jewish boys finished school by the time they were thirteen. Between thirteen and eighteen most children left home to go where there was work. In that world it was not unusual for a sixteen year old to be an experienced businessman.

Menashe was sixteen. He had been working for three years and proved himself an apt and resourceful trader. It was in the spring of 1916 and there was a severe shortage of salt in Kiev. Menashe learned that there was a man in a neighboring town who had salt, but was afraid to make the journey to Kiev. The times were troubled and the woods teemed with bandits. To travel from Koshovato to Kiev, a journey of a day and a half in a wagon drawn by two horses, it took a great deal of courage. Menashe agreed to deliver a wagonload of salt and flour to Kiev for a share of the profits. The hazardous journey was accomplished with no mishaps.

Returning from Kiev to Koshovato, Menashe and his companions dressed as peasants. Looking at them you would never guess that a young Jew was traveling with his two employees. If you noticed them at all you would surmise, “Local Farmers.” Menashe had sold the salt and the flour and had concealed the fat bundle of rubles in a hole he had carved in the wagon chassis. Suddenly partisans emerged from the woods and surrounded the travelers. “Your money!” they demanded. The three men firmly insisted that they had no money.

“Well then, we will use you and your wagon to bring water to our camp, Brothers,” they commanded.

As the water splashed over the barrel rims on to the wagon bed, Menashe worried about his concealed rubles.

“Fear not little Brother. Don’t frown so. Soon you will be done here and on your way home.”

At last they were on their way. When they arrived into the safety of Tarashta, the two peasants hurried into the inn to boast of their adventures. Alone at last, Menashe appeared to be inspecting the wagon wheels and chassis. He saw that the rubles were wet, but they could be dried. The money was still safe.

As Menashe prepared to leave, the town’s people urged him to stay in Tarashta that night. They told him that a big battle had been fought that day between the Red Partisans and the government soldiers. “There are many deserters and bandits in the dense forests between Tarashta and Koshovato, they cautioned.

Menashe would not listen. It was only six more versts (A verst is two thirds of a mile or a kilometer) to Koshovato and he knew his father would be worried. Halfway to Koshovato they were halted again by bandits. Menashe asked the question he feared most. He asked with a harsh tone,

“Are there any Jews here?”

“No, Brothers. Do we look like Jews?” answered the larger peasant as he slapped the horses on their way.