Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Shtetl Tales: Volume One
Shtetl Tales: Volume One
Shtetl Tales: Volume One
Ebook309 pages4 hours

Shtetl Tales: Volume One

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

This collection of stories takes place in the fictional shtetl of Patchentuch, located somewhere in the backwater of Eastern Poland in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The stories, which transcend the grim reality of shtetl life to another geography, tell of the lighthearted adventures and misadventures of the town’s residents. My hope is that these tales will provide the same pleasure for the reader that I derived from creating them.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateFeb 2, 2022
ISBN9781665550802
Shtetl Tales: Volume One
Author

Eleanore Smith

Eleanore E. Smith attended Simmons College, Boston University School of Education, and holds a Master’s Degree in Hebrew Literature from Hebrew College in Newton, Massachusetts. She was awarded the Dr. Moses J. Steiner Prize for Excellence in Hebrew Literature, the Louis Hillson Memorial Award for achievement in Jewish Education, and is recipient of the Keter Torah Award from The Boston Bureau of Jewish Education. She has been a Book Reviewer for over forty years and has visited Israel on fifteen different occasions. She is the author of Plastic Flowers and The Yard Sale Caper and Other Stories. Her writing has been serialized in The Jewish Advocate and featured in The Jewish Literary Journal as well as in literary publications such as Dogwood Tales Magazine, Poet’s Fantasy, Vox and, Phantasm. She lives in Massachusetts where she taught Hebrew and Judaic Studies for forty years. In 2018, she was the winner of an International Hebrew Fiction Writing Contest sponsored by the Government of Israel.

Read more from Eleanore Smith

Related to Shtetl Tales

Related ebooks

Short Stories For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Shtetl Tales

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Shtetl Tales - Eleanore Smith

    © 2022 Eleanore Smith. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    Published by AuthorHouse 02/02/2022

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-5079-6 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-5080-2 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    Acknowledgements

    Shlomo Loses his Trousers

    Moishe Rebuilds in Patchentuch

    A Garden in Patchentuch

    A Peddler Comes to Town

    The Fury of Malkah Ava Botell

    Jakob Farshimmelt Falls from Grace

    Schlamazel Needs a Wife

    The Sons of Patchentuch Strike

    Rossel Flaische Saves the Day

    The Rebbe Loses his Way

    Shmulik Goes on Holiday

    Patchentuch Celebrates

    Chananya Plotz and the Chanukah Miracle

    Schmendric Teitlebaum Disappears

    Knaidle has her Way

    A Slip of the Tongue

    Motte Klotz Puts on his Vest

    The Tree in Moshe Pipik’s Garden

    Moishe’s Mizrach

    Shmulik and the River

    Epilogue

    Bluma Tova’s Brooch

    Chicken Soup

    Patchentuch Sleeps

    Geshmak And The Eyeglasses

    A Mixed Bag

    A Tallis Tangle

    Chutzpah’s Discovery

    Schlamazel Down the Well

    Batya And The Feathers

    Yitzhak’s Vegetable Garden

    Chochem Learns A Lesson

    An Abundance Of Flaische

    Feivish Is Restless

    Bashert

    The Wives of Patchentuch

    Chanala Is Out Of Sorts

    Moishe Saves The Day

    Yasher Koach’s Inspiration

    Mistakes In Patchentuch

    A Patchentuch Sting

    Fayga Farklempt’s Shoes

    Shivas and Weddings

    Tantaleah Has An Idea

    Chava’s Surprise

    The Chochem (Wise Man)

    Faigele’s Busy Day

    Shmatte’s Pots and Pans

    Zolzeinmitt Glick

    The Klezmorim

    Chez Zochen Vey

    The Widow Blumfeld’s Sheitel

    Gedalye and Gedempte’s Plan Backfires

    The Enlightenment of Yaakov Fartumel

    The Rebbetzin And The Mice

    Malkah Ava Bottel Pays A Visit

    Wedding Day In Patchentuch

    Signs In Patchentuch

    Bells, Whistles, and Pots And Pans

    A Hot Day In Patchentuch

    The Shul Needs Repair

    Shuster’s Rooster

    A Hazard In The Market Square

    Mendel Freulich’s Fingernail

    Fraidl And The Gypsy

    Label Drops The Torah

    Malkah Ava Botell Takes A Swim

    Schlamazel’s Wheezing Returns

    Shprintze Makes Curtains

    Shprintze Cooks An Egg

    Yenta Searches Everywhere

    The Mayor And the Mud

    Schlumpa Mends A Tallis

    An Itch In Patchentuch

    The Generosity Of Yaakov Fartumel

    The Mohel Arrives Late

    Shlomo Lochinkopf Forgets

    Shmulik’s New Bicycle

    A Mogen David In the Market

    Maisy’s Dream

    An Election In Patchentuch

    Schlamazel Looks For Work

    Oyzer Makes Toast

    The Klezmorettes

    Patchentuch Wives are Sneezing

    Bessie and Raizel Complain

    The Glicklets

    Malkah Makes Mischief

    Yitzhak Grow Grapes

    Shmuel Shimshack Returns

    Faigele Goes To Lodz

    The Rebbe’s Mattress

    A Priest In Patchentuch

    Gershom Nussbaum and the Bees

    Schleppy Rides Around

    Shlomo’s Forgetfulness

    Epilogue

    Acknowledgements

    Much appreciation to Dr. David Smith for his technical assistance in preparing this manuscript. I would like to dedicate the collection to the memory of my parents (Bertha and Philip Kastel), to the memory of Dr. Sumner Smith, to Len Paris, my editor, to my children (Karen, David and Heidi) and their spouses, to my grandchildren and their spouses, and to my great grandchildren.

    Shlomo Loses his Trousers

    40747.png

    It all began the day Shlomo Lochinkopf lost his trousers. He didn’t literally lose them, of course, they just fell down. One minute he was properly clothed, and the next he stood in the middle of the square with his pants wrapped around his ankles. He could move neither here nor there, forward nor backward nor sideways. In an instant he was the laughing-stock of the shtetl. Shlomo Lochinkopf, a respected member of the Jewish community of Patchentuch and a beadle in the house of prayer, stood in the crowded square with his pants down. How did that happen and what could have been done to prevent it? Just like that he found himself reduced to an object of ridicule.

    In order to impress Raizel Chachkes he’d been eating smaller portions of pickled herring and black bread, but Shlomo didn’t connect the two events. Instead he thought maybe it was because his prayer book had slipped from his hands, falling to the floor and he’d not kissed it with sufficient d’veikuss, or perhaps it was because during prayers he’d been dreaming of Raizel Chachkes. Had he maybe not given enough to charity, or had his mind too frequently wandered during Yizkor? Perhaps it was for sport that demons had decided to ruin his dignity among the community of Patchentuch. That must be it; evil spirits had conspired to cause this life altering event and he was being punished.

    Raizel had turned beet red when it happened, averting her gaze as Shlomo stood before her in a state of partial nakedness. Not knowing what else to do in the situation, she’d bowed her head and left. Shlomo bent over to pull up his pants, but not before the damage was done. He was humiliated, and his chances at winning Raizel’s affections had gone up like smoke in the air. Shlomo decided his only option was to visit the Rebbe, and so he did. The Rebbe, who knew everything about all things, tugged at his white beard, swung a chicken around the head of Shlomo three times and wondered. It was a phenomenon the Rebbe had not encountered. Why would a man’s pants suddenly fall down around his ankles? He would search the holy books and ponder the problem, and so Shlomo returned home, still burning with shame and embarrassment.

    As days passed Shlomo was aware that the people of the town were laughing over the incident. Moreover, as he went about his prayer house duties, his pants again fell down, and his trousers once more lay about his ankles, exposing a pair of skinny knees and legs. "Rebono Shel Oylem, Shlomo cried, as he hastily pulled up his trousers, What have I done?" He’d heard stories of demons that took up residence in a person’s body, dybbuks that refused to leave. He believed sincerely that such a spirit had taken up residence in him, making itself comfortably at home.

    Malkah Ava Botell was her name, and she was a lady spirit with flaming red hair who had taken a fancy to our Shlomo, in spite of his knobby knees and legs, which she thought were adorable. In fact, the persistent itch that Shlomo had been experiencing in the area of his knees was not fleas, but the tickling of Malkah’s fingers as she played up and down his hairy legs, running her hands along the knobs of his knees; she couldn’t get enough of him. Stop it, he told her on more than one occasion, but she persisted, even daring to run her hands over his chest, pulling on little black hairs from time to time. As a result, Shlomo was constantly itchy, a situation he’d originally attributed to the nervous condition that had developed since losing his trousers.

    As it turned out, Malkah was a jealous demon who resented Shlomo’s affection for Raizel, and as punishment she persisted in pulling down his pants, which continued to drop down around his ankles. She caused as much mischief as she could and vowed to continue until Shlomo declared his love for her. After persistent bouts of itchiness, he’d begun shouting at her, causing people to suspect that Shlomo was suffering some sort of mental breakdown. What do you want from me? he cried, after spending a particularly itchy night. I want you to love me, she said, and with that she sidled up to Shlomo, caressing his beard and playing with his earlobes. Stop it, enough of this, cried an agitated Shlomo as he escaped her unwanted attentions. Leave me alone; you are an embarrassment and a nuisance.

    Days and weeks passed, and Shlomo continued to consult the Rebbe who’d been unable to find any precedent in the scholarly works. Shlomo’s pants continued to slip off his hips, until one day an idea occurred to him. The fates were playing tricks, of that he was certain, but they wouldn’t get the best of him. Shlomo Lochinkopf was smarter than they knew, and so in desperation he fashioned himself a belt from a piece of rope which he fastened tightly around his waist, and from that day his pants never again fell down. He married Raizel Chachkes who bore him six sons, and as a wedding gift to her husband Raizel embroidered Shlomo a beautiful pair of suspenders, just in case.

    Moishe Rebuilds in Patchentuch

    40747.png

    The house that Moishe Kapoyer inhabited was clearly falling down around his ears. The roof leaked, floors creaked and sagged, windows did not close properly, and doors were slipping off hinges. Over the years Moishe had done his best to keep up with repairs, but the process of deterioration finally overcame him. It was time to tear down and rebuild. Shtetl neighbors and friends offered to help and contribute what they could to the effort. Fruma, Moishe’s wife, packed up her things, took the children and went to stay with her sister Shayna and her husband Getzel during the demolition and rebuilding. Schmendric Teitlebaum, Moishe’s friend and neighbor, offered to draw up simple plans for a new dwelling, and because he was good at that sort of thing, Moishe readily accepted the offer. It would be a simple structure requiring minimum expense.

    Moishe Kapoyer was a kind and gentle soul, and people thought well of him. They were only too glad to help, just as Moishe had helped them over the years. Materials were gathered, and when the day for the knock down arrived the fragile structure easily surrendered to hammer and saw. Schmendric Teitlebaum handed over the plans for the new dwelling to Moishe, who was pleased with the simple design. He was eager to get started because it was late fall, requiring that work be completed before winter. Once demolition and removal were finished Moishe took charge of the operation, giving instructions to those who were doing the hammering and nailing. He studied Schmendric’s simple plans, made copious notes, and gave orders accordingly. The weather cooperated and things ran smoothly. Moishe, a worker would ask from time to time, are you sure this is right? and Moishe would refer to his plans, reassuring the worker it was exactly according to plan. Moishe, another would ask, Do you maybe think the windows are too high? and Moishe would consult his plans and reassure the worker they were exactly according to plan. The windows were not too high, and so work continued.

    One morning after giving instructions Moishe felt confident enough to leave Patchentuch and visit Fruma and the children. He made the brief journey out of town, and as he sat at his sister and brother in law’s table drinking schnapps, he was content. He was glad to be with his family again, and they all celebrated the construction of the new dwelling. Unfortunately, Moishe drank too much schnapps and fell asleep. He was, therefore, unable to return to the building site in Patchentuch and spent the night with his family. The next morning when he got up, he did not feel well and was unable to return to Patchentuch and the construction site. Not to worry. He’d left specific and noted instructions, and all would proceed on schedule without him. He would return when he felt better. Fruma pampered him with chicken soup, and Moishe was grateful for the attention and rest. He felt confident that affairs in Patchentuch were well in hand.

    Two days later he was able to travel, but it had started to rain and Moishe began to worry. How had they proceeded without his direction and would the work be completed on time? He wondered if it was even possible to work under these conditions. He kissed Fruma and the children, thanked Shayna and Getzel for their hospitality and set out on his way. The rain was now coming down in torrents and the wagon he was traveling in became stuck in the mud. Moishe got out of the horse drawn wagon to help the driver free them, but it was slow work, and he lost another day. How had they proceeded without his direction and his notes, and would the work have been completed?

    On the day of his eventual arrival in Patchentuch the sun was shining, and the day was cool and clear. Winter was already in the air, and despite the brightness of the day Moishe was glad that the building must be near completion. As he approached his destination his heart began to beat faster from excitement, but as he came nearer to the site something did not look right. Upon his arrival he set eyes on the just completed structure, and saw his neighbors having lunch under the trees, yet something was clearly amiss.

    The front door was at the top of the building which stood akimbo to what appeared to be a peaked roof. How can this be? Moishe exclaimed, and one of the workers shrugged and said, You must have read the plans upside down, because we followed your notes and instructions to the letter.

    Moishe climbed up a ladder to look into two of the high windows and saw that the wooden floor was now the ceiling and the ceiling was where the floor should be. Moishe was in shock, but he couldn’t blame the workers because his instructions had been clear, Follow the plans and written notes and instructions, and they had indeed done just that.

    He and his family could not live in this structure, but he could not abide what the townspeople would think and say about him. They would laugh and say, What a fool that Moishe is … he built an upside-down house that’s of no use to anyone.

    So, he climbed down the ladder, stood as tall as he could before the workers, his friends and neighbors, and said confidently and with pride, Thank you, my friends. The house is built exactly as planned, and if you’re wondering why the floor is at the top, it is because I knew the rains were coming and if we built the house in the usual way, the wooden floors would have become soaked and would warp badly before the roof was on, so now all we have to do is turn the building over onto its’ proper bottom and we’ll be done.

    Not a simple task, but the workers smiled in amazement at Moishe’s brilliant foresight, and they set about to work. It wasn’t a large house, and so they were able to do it after several hours of heavy effort, and to this day Moishe, Shayna and the children live comfortably in their new home.

    If you should ever happen to be in Patchentuch and wish to see the Kapoyer home, it’s the one just by the market square with the slightly off-center roof and somewhat bent chimney... but you can rest assured its’ occupants are dry and happy, and its’ owner is a well-respected resident and soon to be Mayor of Patchentuch.

    A Garden in Patchentuch

    40747.png

    Tantaleah Schwartzkopf always wanted a garden. Shtetl winters were long, snowy and cold, and by spring she longed for the color and fragrance that flowers provided. Some of her neighbors in Patchentuch, who did have small gardens, planted squash, beets, turnips and potatoes, but Tantaleah wanted flowers.

    Lazar, her husband, promised to help. Having just been married they had no children, and Tantaleah would have time to devote to flowers. Better yet, why not plant a garden in the market square for all to enjoy? The little square of Patchentuch was devoid of color, except for market days on Mondays and Thursdays, but for the rest of the week the place had no aesthetic charm. Flowers in the square were just what were needed. Tantaleah discussed with her neighbors the prospect of flowers in the market square and they agreed it was an inspired idea. Yitzhak Farblondzet, Jakob Farshimmelt and Katrinka Yarbartz all promised to help, and so the idea was born. At last there would be a flower garden in Patchentuch.

    The site was selected, and the volunteers got to work. They cleared the land, dug the holes, planted the seeds, and carried water from the well, as wives brought lunches to those doing the work. Patchentuch was a flurry of excitement, and the thought of flowers in their midst lifted their spirits, helping them to forget the long, snowy, dreary winter. Spring and hope were in the air, birds were chirping, and the residents of the tiny shtetl town were abuzz with anticipation. Why had no one thought of this before? Tantaleah Schwartzkopf was proud that it was she who had come up with the idea, and she happily schlepped buckets of well water to the new garden. Yitzhak, Jakob, and Lazar all assisted in the effort, digging holes, planting and watering, and when the work was complete, they marveled at their creation. The flowers were pink and red, white and orange, and like a rainbow from the heavens were a glorious sight to behold. They cast their brilliance over the market square, and like a beautiful symphony resounded in the hearts and souls of people who were weary of work and winter.

    But then suddenly something happened to the garden. After a few weeks the plants and flowers began to wilt and droop and no one could explain the phenomenon. Granted, there had not been much rain, but Tantaleah, Lazar, Yitzhak, Jakob and Katrinka had faithfully watered the flowers. No, it had to be something else. Could it be that although the days were warm, the nights were too cold for the newly planted flowers? Yes, that must be it, but could that be remedied. They would each take turns at night, Tantaleah, Katrinka, Lazar, Jakob and Yitzhak. For a few hours each would sit by the garden with lit candles around the perimeter which would provide the needed warmth for the survival of the plants. Of course, the candles could not be left unattended for fear of fire and danger to wooden carts and buildings, and so they would alternate watches. For awhile the plan worked, but Lazar kept falling asleep on his watch, and he missed being under his goose down puff with Tantaleah. Katrinka and Yitzhak also dozed off, and so they would have to devise an alternative plan. The Rebbe suggested that they lay blankets over the garden during the night-time hours, but the weight of the covers crushed the tender plants causing them to droop even more. The upshot of it was that between the lit candles and the blankets, nothing helped.

    And then the Mayor, Moishe Kapoyer offered a solution. He had been observing the progress of the garden and pondering the problem. Why, he wondered, had they planted the garden on the wrong side of the square that received absolutely no sunlight and lay entirely in shade? If they dug up the garden, replanting on the other side of the square which did receive full sun, the flowers would revive and thrive. And so, they got to work. Katrinka, Tantaleah, Jakob, Lazar and Yitzhak dug up every single plant that lay in the shade, replanting them in a place which received light, adding more seed just to be sure. As a result, the plants revived and grew and the garden thrived, and the people of Patchentuch were happy.

    A Peddler Comes to Town

    40747.png

    One fine day, looking out of his window onto the town square, Mayor Moishe Kapoyer saw that a crowd had gathered around an umbrella covered wheeled cart. He wondered what might be the attraction and so naturally he had to leave the town’s business to see for himself.

    What had drawn the people was indeed a pushcart filled with chachkes, colorful ribbons, amulets, threads, notions and items generally unavailable in Patchentuch.

    This is a good thing thought Moishe; it will bring joy to the people, and so he approached the red bearded owner, and introduced himself.

    Good day, he said: I’m Moishe Kapoyer, Mayor of our little town, and who might you be? I’m Pushkin, the peddler replied. Welcome Pushkin, and what is your first name if I might ask? Pushkin, the man replied. Mmm, thought Moishe. Perhaps I did not correctly hear the answer to my first question. Pushkin Pushkin, how strange to have the same first and last name, but he said only, "Welcome to Patchentuch, Pushkin. I hope you’ll do well here and earn yourself some zlotys. With that Moishe returned to attend to the town’s business.

    Because there had been little rain, Katrinka Yarbartz, the baker’s daughter, was watering flowers in the market square garden when she spotted Pushkin’s cart. She wandered over to inspect his wares and was fascinated by the sparkling amulets lying among the clutter of notions. "They’ll bring mazel, Pushkin told her, maybe even a husband if you’re in the market. Katrinka blushed. What makes you think I want one? she countered. Katrinka had, in fact, set her cap on Yaakov Fertumult, the Torah scholar, but as shy as she was Yaakov was even more socially challenged. Buy one and wear it around your neck and you’ll find your bashert", Pushkin told her, and so Katrinka purchased a sparkling amulet in hopes of winning the affections of Yaakov Fertumult, one of Patchentuch’s most brilliant minds. She hung the gem around her neck, and when other young women in the town learned of the amulet’s powers, they, too, purchased them, and Pushkin’s sales soared. Before long the young women of Patchentuch were walking around with stars in their eyes and love amulets around their necks, neglecting household chores. While mothers were busy braiding up their daughters’ hair, daughters were applying beet juice to their lips and cheeks, and Yeshiva bochers were hiding from the newly emboldened young women of the town. It seemed as if Pushkin had uncorked some sort of restless energy and frenzy among the young ladies of Patchentuch, and it was slowly upsetting the balance

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1