You Were There Before My Eyes

“More coffee, Boys?” Those still not introduced thinking they had escaped, chorused, “Yes!”

“Aha! Veaseling out? I make fresh after. So, next. Here ve got a real beauty! Answer to a maiden’s prayer—strong, good earner, good looker and best, not too bright. Girlies lead him by de long nose easy! Our special real Englishman, who likes to eat good, so here he is mit Hannah, not de stuck up Mrs. Adams four-streets-over … Mr. very, very proper, Jimmy Weatherby, foundry big shot.” A tall man in a buttoned jacket and tie stood, reached across the table to shake Jane’s hand with shy deference.

“Vifey, two Poles ve got, ain’t ve lucky! Here is our number two—him the big cheese foreman on magneto line. Soon, Vifey, you vill know vat all dis means. In dis house ve have so much Ford big shots ve can build our own Model T. So now say hello to Mr. ‘Know-It-All’… Carl Baldechek.”

The gravel-voiced man Jane had heard on entering, got up, walked around the table, pumped Jane’s hand, slapped John’s back congratulating him on an excellent choice and beaming, returned to his place. “See—big shot! Now comes our new Hollander. Him married, even a Papa already so won’t stay long but his Vifey not over yet—still saving up. So every day, poor man, dead tired and sad missing everybody. Very proper, never no hanky-panky like some I know, just sweet, lonely boy … Mr. Johann Niedellander, specialist mit de pistons.” Pink and scrubbed, thin blond hair falling over one eye, his shy young smile welcomed Jane across the table from him. “See vat a sveetheart boy? Next … Mr. ‘Buzzing Fly.’ Sits quiet, only to eat—even in bed he tvitches, so I hear from who I can’t tell. Him, special tester—big shot, everybody has to listen to our Bulgarian Mr. Zoltan, mit a last name you can’t pronounce.” A smallish man, wiry as though under tension, with piercing black eyes above a sensuous mouth, jumped up, moved quickly to Jane’s side, shook her hand as though in a frantic hurry to go somewhere, then sat down again.

“Come on, Hannah, now Fritz—and make it good!” the men chimed, egging their landlady on.

“And last, dere he sits … Mr. Supreme, ‘De Man of de House.’ Bestest leather man trimmer, so good dat Mr. Ford himself says ‘Hello’ to him. So delicate, he stitches the diamond shapes like a fine needle-lady he isn’t! A good man, in bed and out … Mr. Fritz Vilhelm Georg Geiger! Maybe now, Papa, you should give de new Vifey a kiss, yes?”

Her husband, face red as a beet, rose, took one step, stopped, turned back, picked up his napkin, dunked one corner into his coffee, wiped his mouth thoroughly, then walking over to Jane, bent down, gave her a ringing smack right on her lips and returned to his place at the head of the table amidst appreciative applause. Hannah left, returned from the kitchen, bearing a huge platter laden with yeasty doughnuts, red jelly oozing, the men groaned, “No more!”

“Just a little nosh! Von’t hurt.”

As the men talked, Hannah refilled their cups, watched with smug satisfaction as her baking bounty disappeared. Jane, munching her first jelly doughnut, trying to understand what everyone was saying, their different accents so distinctive, thought her husband’s fellow workers were fascinating and the fact that none of them seemed to be in the slightest hurry to rush off to church, endeared them even more than when she first shook their capable hands and had decided, she liked them.

Being the only other woman present, Jane felt it only right to assume the female duties of helping in the kitchen. As she washed dishes, she was torn between admiring what she was washing them in and trying to overhear, hopefully understand, what the men were discussing in the dining room. All that filtered through was the booming voice of Fritz Geiger.

“Good to have you back, John. As Carl says, the moving line idea can work, but that we knew when we tried it with the ropes. We still have many problems, I tell you …”

Hannah drying and stacking, having noticed Jane’s admiration of her washing receptacle, began informing her that this magnificence was called a sink, but not just any old, what-others-might-have sink, but a porcelain-enameled-iron-roll-rim one that had cost the fortune of eleven dollars and twenty-five cents—a whole week’s pay!

“Vonderful, no? See, every time ven you twist handle, vater runs out. No pumping like old times! Long, long times we save, went mitout, so poor we lived. All de time only dreaming someday to buy a house, have like dis sink … valls covered mit quality vallpaper, real electricity light—oh, everyting! Maybe whole of Mr. Sears and Mr. Roebuck and dat Mr. Montgomery Ward Company mail order catalog books.” Handing Jane a dishtowel, she whispered, “Here. Stop vashing, dry hands—ve sneak avay a minute—I show you someting also not to be believed. Come!” Her accent even more pronounced by excitement, Hannah grabbed Jane’s hand and pulling her, hurried out of the kitchen, up the stairs, down a hall wallpapered in shepherdesses and their flocks, to a door bearing a white porcelain plaque.

“Now, Vifey, take a breath and I vill show you vat in America is called My Pride and Joy.” A perfunctory knock, a breathless hesitation, then, getting no response, she flung open the door—stepping aside so that Jane could receive the full impact of what was exposed. Jane struck speechless, did not disappoint. “Vonderbar, yes? Look—look—” pulling Jane further into the gleaming bathroom. “Only de bestest battubs have like lion feet—and cold and even hot runs direct into! … And dis, de inside house water closet and it can, as it’s called, flush! Can’t do it now, de whole house hears. My Fritz fixed de plumbing—Vell?”

“It is, how you say it? Magnifico!”

“Downstairs, by de back porch, I have anudder inside house closet but de golden oak box dere is high, high up de wall and a chain hang down to pull—dat one not so noisy—dat I don’t know vy. Puzzles me!” About to lead Jane out of her porcelain palace, Hannah had a sudden thought. She was prone to explosive inspiration. “Vifey, vile so new husband downstairs, out of de vay, busy mit de big talking of dis and dat of de Lizzies, you, quiet like a mouse, take a bat! Yes? All over one. I mean it! I go fetch nice big towel and my soap mit lavender. You den soak. No hurry. Take your time. Don’t vorry. Next I give dem strudel, dey sit all day! Till it’s time for Sunday Supper Special!”

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