“Well, that’s not me,” Joe said. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“I’m telling you,” David said, “that my office is full of guys—perfectly normal guys—feeling the same way you are. War isn’t natural. We’re not built for it, despite all the wars we’ve fought down through the ages. Think of all the conditioning you have to break free of to kill a man, starting with your parents, then in temple, in school, in the neighborhood. The Army’s good at helping you do that—we’ve been studying it for decades, after all—but not so good yet at helping you stuff the genie back in the bottle. I’m going to do some guessing now. You tell me if I’m right.”
“OK,” Joe said. Reluctantly, but he said it.
“Jumpiness,” David said. “Irritability. Anxiety. Fits of the shakes. Impotence.” Joe’s hand jerked in mine, but David didn’t seem to notice, because he went on. “Nightmares. I suppose we can tick that box, at least. They’ve been better, I imagine, since Marguerite came.”
“Yeah,” Joe said. “And a couple of the others, I suppose. Jumpiness, that is,” he hurried to say. “Irritability. I thought I was done with them, but …”
“But something’s got you worried,” David said. “Responsibility. You crave it, you’re used to it, it’s the framework of your life, but sometimes, it presses too hard. What’s pressing right now?”
Joe moved his head restlessly. “I don’t know. Stupid stuff.School, mostly. My exams start tomorrow, and I’ve got a lot riding on doing well. I’m not used to being back in the classroom, I suppose. And the money, too. Stanford—just the tuition, and rent, food—uses all my GI Bill allotment and then some. I saved most of my pay, but that’s only going to go so far. Berkeley would’ve given us more wiggle room. I keep wondering if I’ve made a mistake.”
“And you don’t want to ask your parents,” David said.
Joe just about left his chair. “Are you kidding? Of course I don’t. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a man. I’ve got a wife, and we’ll probably have a baby coming along at some point. What kind of man can’t support his family? Not doing right by Marguerite, when I’ve brought her all the way over here, I …” He broke off and did that thing to his eyes with thumb and finger again.
“And you wouldn’t ask them anyway,” David said, “because of how they feel about your German wife.”
“My blonde Nazishiksa,you mean,” Joe said. “I told you, I’ve heard it. I’m guessing you’veheard even more.”
“All of that,” David said, “is enough pressure to put anybody over the edge a time or two.”
“After a war?” Joe asked. “After seeing Dachau? After the Nuremberg trials? When I’m back home, and safe, and Marguerite’s safe, too, and the biggest pressure in my life is whether I can learn some stuff from books? Sure, I was worried when she was still in Germany. It’s bad over there. You don’t know how bad. It was hard to believe she’d really be on the ship until I actually saw her standing there, but she’s here now. We’re together, and it’s everything I’ve wanted, so why?”
“Ah, yes.” The pipe was in full use now. “The trials. Now there, you see, you’ve had a further psychological insult. You couldn’t fight your way to victory anymore, meet the enemy and win in the streets. You were forced to sit and translate themost vile obscenities that have ever come from the minds and mouths of man. I read some of the transcripts. They’d give the strongest man nightmares, and you listened to that day after day for more than a year. More than that—you listened to them spouting it and couldn’t react. It seeped into your consciousness, and there’s no erasing it.”
“So what am I supposed to do about it?” Joe asked.
“First,” David said, “you congratulate yourself on being willing to see the problem. Believe me, most men can’t, not for a good long time. They come to us when they’re hurting their wife and kids, andnotin the middle of a nightmare. When they’re drunk every night and lashing out at the boss, losing their job. How’s the drinking, by the way?”
“Fine,” Joe said. “I’ve never been a big drinker.”
“Not a drinker, not a smoker,” David said, holding up his pipe. “No real vices at all. I’d say—give yourself some grace. Acknowledge what you’ve been through, and that it may take you a while to be steady on your feet again. Watch for the warning signs—not sleeping, drinking, the work slipping, unreasonable panic, starting arguments, starting fights. And let your wife help you. Ifshesays you need to come in and talk to us—not to me; don’t worry, it’ll be a stranger, and I’ll never know what you tell him—listen to her. The wife almost always knows. And Marguerite? If you’re wondering whether he's OK, if you’re seeing signs—call me. I’ll write down my number for you.”
I nodded. Joe passed a hand over his face, then rubbed his eyes again. He gave a nod, too. “OK.”
David got up from the table and turned to leave the room, then turned back and put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “You’re a good man,” he said. “You’ve made your family proud. You’ve made yourwifeproud. That’s all obvious, so try to remember it. Everyone needs a little help from time to time.”
“Yeah?” Joe looked up and tried to smile. “So who do the shrinks talk to?”
“Other shrinks,” David said. “Trust me. Other shrinks. Taking on other people’s pain isn’t easy. But you know that already, because that’s what you’ve done. You’ve done a greatmitzvah,Joe. You’ve helped show the world something they needed to know, and you’ve held onto your humanity while you did it. When the black thoughts come and tell you that twisted story, remind yourself of that. And Marguerite?”
“Yes?” All I wanted was to take Joe back to bed and hold him tight, and show him how much I loved him. That somebody so good should feel so bad—it was wrong, and it hurt.
“There wasn’t anything wrong with what you said last night,” David said. “It was an interesting perspective, and the kind of question Jewish scholars sit around and debate all day long. Mrs. Stark isn’t used to it coming from a woman, but I don’t think this is the last time she’ll be surprised by that. I don’t think women are going to shift gears as willingly as some people think. They got used to working during the war. They got used to making the family’s decisions, too, with the men gone. That must be even more true in Germany.”
“Yes,” I said. “That is so.” I thought of Herr and Frau Adelberg, who’d owned the bakery. He’d come home and expected to make all the rules as before, but I didn’t think it had been an easy change for her. Complicated, when one loves a man. When does giving in become giving up too much of oneself?
“Keep thinking for yourself,” David said. “You’ve got a fine mind. There’s no shame in using what God gave you. I’d like to hear more of your thoughts about Germany, in fact; the things you didn’t think you could say last night. And remember—‘Got hobt gegebn last un oych sholder.’”
“God has given burdens,” I said, “and also shoulders. Oh, this is very good.” I smiled at him, and at Joe. “We both have very good shoulders, you know, Joe and I.”
“Yes,” David said, “I believe you do. And you know—I’m not sure any woman would be good enough for Joe in his mother’s eyes, even if she were the most devout Jew ever born. Keep feeding him. That’ll probably help. And remember, you have the ultimate weapon.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
David smiled. “Grandchildren.”
