Campus Bound
by
Fred Narvey
What can be nicer than a frosty December day in Winnipeg? The streets are covered with lovely, clean, new fallen snow. The sun is shining and there isn't a breeze anywhere. The air is so still one can hear the crackle of a twig a mile away. If you don't believe me, you may ask any Scout Master.'What a day, what a day!" I kept saying to myself in anticipation of the drive to my Tuesday morning meeting of the 'Stay Young Group' at the Asper Jewish Com Campus. The trip by car usually takes twenty-five minutes from our home on Burrin Avenue, West Kildonan, to the Campus on Doncaster Street, Tuxedo.
My good mood came to an abrupt halt when the car wouldn't start. "Don't get upset, don't get upset," my better self kept saying. "Your father lived his whole life without owning a car!" It was exactly 9:50 a.m. and the Stay Young Educational program starts at approximately 11:00 a.m. So I put my best foot forward and briskly walked the four blocks to catch the #18 bus at Jefferson and Main Street at 10:00 a.m. The bus takes exactly 50 minutes from Jefferson and Main to the campus, so I wouldn't miss the Educational program after all.
I just got myself nicely settled in the bus and began reading a story about "Tevyeh and His Daughters" by Sholem Aleichem in preparation for my Sunday morning Yiddish Reading Circle, when a rather attractive, neatly-dressed lady with snow-white hair sat down beside me and began speaking to me in Yiddish.
"I see you are reading Sholem Aleichem," she said. "He's my favorite author. Do you mind if I talk to you?"
"Oh, well," I thought to myself as I put my book away. "Tevyeh and his seven daughters can wait. Life is indeed stranger than fiction sometimes."
"I'm a widow," she began, "and my name is Mrs. Pateil Ckhatzkil Hrackhalnitsky. I see you are smiling. When I first met my late husband and he introduced himself as Pateil Ckhatzkil Hrackhalnitsky, not only did I smile, I laughed out loud and kept right on laughing until he proposed to me. Then I stopped laughing. After all I was 70 years old, my first husband had died, and I was lonely."
"Pateil Ckhatzkil told me that he was 75 years old. His first wife had died, his second wife was a shrew and couldn't cook, so they were divorced and he was lonely.
I must tell you, he was a handsome man. He didn't look 75 years old and he still drove his car at night. That's important, you know."
"I told him I was leaving for Vancouver to visit my daughter, but I would consider his proposal. He wrote letters to me every few days, telling me that he missed me something awful, and pleaded with me to hurry back so that we could get married. He went on to say that he owned a 12-suite apartment block and occupied one of the suites. In the event of his death, the apartment block would be mine and I could live in the suite for the rest of my life."
"After a month or so, I came home to Winnipeg and Pateil Ckhatzkil and I were married. It was a quiet little ceremony in the Rabbi's study. I don't like to brag, but I am a good cook, so Pateil Ckhatzkil was happy. Generally speaking I was happy too, except for one thing. Pateil Ckhatzkil was hotter than a firecracker! You could almost call him a sex maniac, if you will pardon the expression. I was all worn out and couldn't take it any longer. I complained to the Rabbi who married us and he said that it was perfectly legal and was Pateil Ckhatzkil's prerogative, and the Rebitzen (the Rabbi's wife) said, 'It should only happen to me!' Who knows, maybe Pateil Ckhatzkil was younger than 75, like he told me. This went on for about four months. I was a nervous wreck but Pateil Ckhatzkil put on weight from my roast chicken and kugel and looked younger than ever.
Then early one morning, it was on a Sunday, Pateil Ckhatzkil suddenly collapsed and died. So I sat shiva* for a week. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. Any man who reads Sholem Aleichem knows about our customs. Pateil Ckhatzkil's three brothers and two sisters came to the apartment to offer their condolences. They brought hardboiled eggs, pumpernickel with cream cheese, honey cake and what not. They all said, 'When you are finished sifting shiva, we will come back and we'll have a little talk'."
"Sure enough, in a week's time to the day, all five of them were back, and Mischa, the oldest brother said, 'What are your plans?' In my innocence, I said, 'What plans? I love my suite and since I am now the owner of the apartment block, the income will more than cover my living expenses'."
"‘I hate to tell you this,' said Mischa, ‘but your late husband didn't have a dime invested in the block. We allowed him to live in this suite in exchange for his janitorial services and for collecting the rent for us. The apartment block is ours, not yours.' I must confess it came as a shock to me, but I am not the fainting type so I shouted, 'I have a letter signed by Pateil Ckhatzkil Hrackhalnitsky'!"
"‘Letter, shmetter!' said Mischa, 'I'm telling you we are the owners, not you! You can take us to court!' So I got a good lawyer and took them to court."
"After thinking it over, the judge, the ckhockhem** said, 'This is my judgement, Madam. Since your late husband didn't have any money invested in the block you certainly cannot own ft. But you are entitled to live in your suite, rent free, for the rest of your life. Case dismissed!
"That was four years ago. Every year my 'dear brother-in-law Mischa offers me money to give up the suite. First it was $10,000, then it was $20,000, $35,000 and every time I told him to take a jump in the lake. But recently he offered me $40,000."
"I learned through my lawyer that a big corporation offered my mishpocha*** a huge sum of money for their property. They are not interested in the apartment block, but the lot. They want to pull the whole building down and build a skyscraper. What do you think, sir? Should I accept Mischa's offer?"
I looked out of the window of the bus and said, "Here we are, at the Campus already! We are just in time for the Educational program. The guest speaker is the prominent lawyer, Solomon Wise. Maybe you should ask him the question?"
* shiva - the Jewish custom of mourning for the dead
** ckhockhem - the know-it-all
*** mishpocha - family clan