THE BRUDER BROTHERS
A SHORT STORY OF UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES
Introduction
From the pages of the The Forward comes the real lives of struggling immigrants as described in letters to the editor. In the year 1906, the popular Yiddish newspaper reached more than a half-million Jews struggling to make their way in New York’s Lower East Side. Each week, the paper ran a popular advice column titled—A Bintel Brief.
The column spoke to the thousands of Jews who emigrated from Eastern Europe seeking a new life and freedom from the burgeoning oppression, destined to overtake their homeland. At the same time, it assisted those struggling with their new circumstances in one of the most overcrowded neighborhoods in the world.
The paper's editor was the renown Abraham Cahan, who offered advice in his column on all kinds of personal problems. The letters provided a fascinating glimpse into Jewish life at the turn of the century, and spoke to the issues central to the common experiences of these immigrants.
The Bruder Brothers is a short story based on one letter written by a young man who impregnates his sweetheart in Warsaw, Poland. He leaves for America with a promise to send for her once he’s settled. But unfortunately, as you will read, his plans are proof of the idiom—Be careful what you wish for.
I’ve selected this interesting letter, and took the liberty of adding a fictional backstory and particulars to the lives of the participants. I hope you enjoy my tale from A Bintel Brief.
- Neil Perry Gordon
The Bruder Brothers
I marveled at the fierce waters of the Vistula river, and wondered if the gushing of tears streaming down Ruth’s cheeks, where the cause of its ferocity.
“Are you sure?” I managed to squeak out from my pitiful mouth.
Ruth lifted her arms into the air, shook her hands like bees were stinging them and said, “Tell me Ira, what did you think would happen?”
I leaned forward and buried my face into my sweating palms, and wondered, How did I get myself into this mess?
As I looked up, a couple walked by. They shot us a sideways glance, then shared a whisper, apparently amused by our troubles.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Ruth demanded.
I shrugged, shook me head, and immediately regretted my lack of an answer, because Ruth exploded with a waterfall of tears that I feared would push the cresting river to overflow its embankment.
“Listen my love, my brother Abraham is sending me a ticket for America in a few weeks and when I get there, I’ll start earning money. Once settled you’ll come, and then we’ll marry,” I said reaching to settle her shaking hands.
“How can you leave me, Ira?” she asked goggle-eyed. “What if I have the baby before you send the ticket? Who will take care of me?”
I held out my hands, thinking of the obvious, and said, “Your mother?”
Ruth sobbed in short, sharp bursts. “Sure, just wait until I tell my parents. Giving birth without a husband. Such a scandal!”
Our families, the Bruders and the Rosensweigs lived in the same building. Ruth and I had known each other since we were toddlers and grew up playing together. Our adolescent games eventually evolved into hot teenage passion, which in turn lead us into our current predicament.
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