Upon the Head of the Goat
by
Aranka Siegel
Puffin Books, New York, 1981
Synopsis
Piri Davidowitz and her family find themselves caught up in the war that begins to swirl around Hungary in 1939. Her stepfather and brother-in-law have been called into the military and her strong, clever mother struggles to hold the remaining family together as the regulations restricting and repressing the Jews of Hungary grow ever stronger. Piri is a young girl approaching her teenage years, eager for life but bewildered by all of the changes occurring around them. The author (Piri of the story) recounts their lives from 1939 until the Nazis and the Hungarian police forcibly gathered the Jews of Beregszasz into the brick factory to await the arrival of the trains that would take them away. Although they did not know it, Piri and her family would be transported to Auschwitz where Piri and her sister Iboya were separated from the rest of the family. The two sisters never saw any of their family again. This is the story of the troubled, dangerous last five years they had as a family living in Beregszasz, Hungary.
Chapter "Beregszasz," pp. 76-81
Lilli [Piri's older married sister] had been spending more and more time on the bread lines. Often, after she had stood in line for over an hour, the store would run out of bread. We had the same problem with other staples….
* * *
Mother was still able to bake bread from the small supply of flour that she had, but she could not use the bread oven in the yard because of the suspicions of the neighbors. She wakened at dawn on the mornings that she baked and used the oven in the kitchen stove, stretching the flour with whatever starchy vegetables she had on hand. She also spent a lot of time gathering food for our meals, and put in long hours peeling and chopping at night so that she could cook while the stove was on in the morning. We were running out of firewood, with little hope of replacing it.
Since Lilli was now spending most of her time with us, Mother had convinced her to give up her apartment.
* * *
Then Mother thought that she might be able to provide milk for the children by buying a goat and keeping it in the empty woodshed. She knew a farmer outside of town who had been a customer at the store [a shoe store taken away from their family] for over fifteen years, and she thought that she could convince him to sell her a goat.
* * *
Mr. Baltar delivered the goat at dusk on the following Wednesday. As Mother led the way to the woodshed with all of us walking behind, I heard him say to her again, "You certainly are a very determined woman." With reluctance he left after the goat had been installed. We all helped to bring the sacks of feed to the
woodshed and, when we had finished, stood and admired the goat. She had a round white body and thin limbs. Her well-shaped head was dotted by several black markings, which Lilli called her beauty marks. Her large black almond-shaped eyes had a dreamy look. Her ears pointed straight up, and down from her chin hung a smooth white beard.
Manci [Lilli's little girl] laughed as she noticed the goat's beard. "A lady goat with a beard," she exclaimed.
"Ladybeard," said Lilli, "what a name. That's what we'll call her. Ladybeard."
Slowly the children -Manci, Sandor, and Joli- approached the goat, and then hesitantly they began to pet her. Lilli took a few chunks of hay from the feed and let the goat eat it from her hand. Each one of us, except for Mother, then took a turn at feeding her. The children were delighted.
* * *
Mother's attention was more practically focused. To her, Ladybeard's udder was of primary importance. She saved all of the vegetable peelings, which she cooked well, seasoned, and mixed with the grain husks of the goat's feed, giving Ladybeard rich nourishment. The goat thrived and even surpassed Mr. Baltar's promise of a liter of milk a day. But to all of us, even Mother, Ladybeard became more than just a source of milk and cheese. She provided us with a new interest, and we all cared about her well-being and contributed to her comfort.
In the weeks that followed the coming of Ladybeard, Mother and Lilli worked side by side preparing winter provisions. Somehow they were able to fill a large box in the kitchen with potatoes. They put up carrots and parsnips in wet sand for soup greens and dried several batches of noodles, which they stored in sacks.
* * *
[That December, the police came to the Davidowitz home with Lilli's husband Lajos in handcuffs. They took Lilli and her young daughter Manci away with them. Later they learned that the three were taken to Poland. Although Mrs. Davidowitz took great risks to go after them and rescue at least her granddaughter, her efforts were unsuccessful.]
* * *
pp. 98-101
…One afternoon in May [1942], a knock sounded at the kitchen door. Mother opened it to see two strange men standing on the threshold.
"Are you Mrs. Davidowitz?" one of them asked in a formal tone of voice.
Mother's answer, a breathless "Yes, yes," indicated to me that she hoped these men had come with news, either of Lilli or of Father.
"We are inspectors from the city housing bureau," the taller of the two men said solemnly, "and we have come to investigate a complaint that you are keeping a goat on the premises. This is, as you know, a strictly residential neighborhood! No animals other than dogs and cats are allowed!"
"You don't have to investigate," said Mother, lingering a little over the last word. "I admit that I have a goat in my woodshed. But, gentlemen, this goat is not bothering anybody, and she provides milk for my children. I'm sure you are reasonable men with children of your own. You can't blame a war mother whose husband is in a Russian prison camp for trying to feed her young children, can you?"
"We are inspectors from the Housing Department and we have nothing to do with the conditions of war. Where is this goat?" the taller man demanded.
"I'll take you there, and you can see for yourselves what a gentle and quiet animal she is. She could not disturb anyone." Mother led the men off the porch into the yard and returned a few minutes later for the milking bucket. "I'm going to milk her at least; she is so full that she can hardly walk."
"Don't let them take her away," Sandor [Piri's younger brother] pleaded.
"They won't listen to me, " she answered him gently. Then she turned and left the kitchen, carrying the milk bucket. Sandor and Joli [Piri's youngest sister] ran out after her. I grabbed our coats and followed them.
When I got to the woodshed, I saw Joli had thrown her arms around Ladybeard's neck. "She is mine," she screamed at the two men who towered over her. "She is mine!" I saw them exchange glances. Mother pulled up the milking stool and proceeded to milk Ladybeard while I struggled with Joli to leave Ladybeard long enough for me to be able to put on her coat. Sandor stood at the woodshed entrance and looked at all the somber faces without giving a hint of what he felt. I had always been struck by the way Sandor, even as a small child, could hide his feelings. Was this, I wondered, what was meant by the expression being a man. I looked at the two inspectors' faces. "Stone," I said silently to myself. Mother and Joli had enough expression for all of us; both of them were crying uncontrollably. But the only sound we could hear in the woodshed was that of the squirts of mild rhythmically swishing into the bucket. When Mother finished, she picked up the bucket and started to walk off, not saying another word to the men.
"Do you have a piece of rope?" the shorter man asked her.
"In the kitchen."
All of us followed Mother into the kitchen. She put the bucket down on the kitchen table and tried again to persuade them not to take Ladybeard. "Couldn't you just forget that you saw her?"
"We have to do our job, lady," the shorter man snapped at her. "Just give us the piece of rope, and we'll be on our way."
Mother started toward the drawer where she kept string. Joli grabbed at her skirt; Mother picked her up, opened the drawer with her free hand, took out a long, frayed piece of rope, and held out her hand. As the shorter man walked over to take the rope, he passed the opening into the salon, glanced through it, and saw the radio.
"Didn't you know that you were supposed to turn those in last January?" The other man walked into the salon and unplugged the radio. He wrapped the cord around it and put it under his arm. Then he joined his companion, who was standing on the threshold, holding the piece of rope. Without saying another word, they walked off.
Mother put Joli down, closed the door after them, and stood facing us with her back against it. After a few minutes she walked out of the house, went down to the gate and bolted it, came back into the kitchen, and picked up Joli, who was still crying.
"What will they do with Ladybeard?" I asked.
"Send her into the wilderness with their sins, I suppose."
"I don't understand."
"It doesn't matter," she said as she went into the bedroom.