| |
The Cohens Have The Blues.
(Sequel to "If the Hat fits …")
And so now Aunt Sadie is trying to sue an interior design company on the other side of the Atlantic!
Uncle Louis confided in me for the third time, "If she had not won all that gelt on the lottery, we would all still be poor and miserable. Now we are rich and miserable. But at least she is enjoying her misery…" His voice trailed off into incoherent muttering under his breath, as Sadie barked crisp orders down the phone.
"Of course I'm right. You call yourselves Lawyers? I am paying you to be right on my behalf, and for this you want to be telling me I should understand the law!?"
I could not begin to imagine how Yentle and Yentle Law firm of Finchley were keeping their patience, as Aunt Sadie insisted they bring all the laws of England to bear on an exclusive interior design and decorating company, in central New York.
My sister, Sarah, and I had a wager between us, whereby I was confident that the lawfirm rued the day they had heard of Mrs. Sadie Cohen, far more than the design and decorating company did. After all, Aunt Sadie had chosen to ignore Yentle's advice to at least draw up legal contracts with a company some 5,000 miles away. I remember the conversation of barely 6 weeks ago as I had sat quietly listening to Aunt Sadie's instructions to the bespectacled Mr. Yentle Senior. In truth it was less a conversation and more a monologue on the part of Aunt Sadie.
"This is the phone number in New York you are to contact them and then make the arrangements. I have it on good authority they are the very best. I want them to send their best designers and decorators to completely renovate my new home while I am away. These are the dates that I shall depart for Israel and these are the dates I shall be returning."
I had watched Mr. Yentle as he peered over the half-rimmed glasses, eyes intently focused as if hanging onto every word pouring from Aunt Sadie's mouth. I suspected he was actually waiting to see if she would pause to take breath, in order to again try and persuade her to reconsider these 'unconventional arrangements', in spite of her new found multi-millionaire status.
The last time Mr. Yentle had attempted to advise her that wiring seventy-five thousand pounds to a company, on the basis that their company's name was a 'good Jewish name', and not a single instruction or agreement had been written, only verbally communicated, had only resulted in a severe rebuking.
"When I am paying good gelt for your advice, Mr. Yentle, I expect you to listen to me! I am not interested in pieces of paper being sent back and forth between you and them, or their lawyers. It is not a difficult instruction for you to give them. They are to be here while I am away, and redesign and redecorate in a 'Jewish Style'. A style that is befitting a humble Jewish family - That being myself, Louis and my nephew, David."
With the words 'nephew, David', she waved her cheque book over her shoulder in my general direction. I sunk lower into the upholstered leather chair, wondering what on earth had possessed me to accept her kind, 'insistent' offer (conveyed repeatedly via Uncle Louis in tones of despair) that I should move out of my rented one-bedroom flat, and take up residence on the third floor of her eight bedroom 'humble home'. Uncle Louis' pleas, over several weeks, had worn me down, and as 'favourite nephew' to Aunt Sadie I had capitulated.
At least I could console myself with the knowledge that far more resilient people than I had acquiesced to Aunt Sadie's 'requests'. Mr. Yentle Senior being a prime example, when the fateful day arrived, and a long distant call had been placed on behalf of Aunt Sadie to New York. But for a clearer phone call - one with less crackles on the line - such a misunderstanding would never had occurred.
The phone number, passed to my Aunt Sadie from a distant but 'reliable gentile' cousin in New York, had duly and correctly been passed on to Mr. Yentle. Yes, distant cousin Michael had found the very best interior design and decorator's in New York, with what certainly appeared to him to be a 'good Jewish Name'. The advertisement had honestly claimed a reputation for designing to any 'theme' the client cared to name, and their 'portfolio' of clients boasted names of the rich and famous around the world.
"And what's good enough for a wealthy gentile is good enough for a Jewish lady of moderate means," Aunt Sadie had huffed at Louis, just twenty-four hours after taking possession of her two million pound 'modest mansion'. I knew it had been a mistake for Louis to complain, on first sight, about the wallpaper colour not matching the sunken Jacuzzi in the master bedroom, or 'madam bedroom' as he referred to it when out of the earshot of Aunt Sadie.
The day I collected Aunt Sadie and Uncle Louis from the port where the Cruise-liner had docked, will always remain a memorable day for me. Starting from the dramatic moment Aunt Sadie staggered down the walkway, then sank to her knees and kissed the ground. The likelihood that she was trying to emulate the Pope, whom she had once seen on television perform a similar maneuver, was highly unlikely. Uncle Louis' exasperated remark, "God forgive - now I am married to a Muslim Jew who can't find Mecca," went unheard by Aunt Sadie, as an elderly nun promptly stumbled over Aunt Sadie's ample posterior, which pointed heavenwards. As the nun tried to gather her composure, crossing herself twice, Uncle Louis' exasperation rose to another pitch, "Oi Vey - my Muslim Jewish wife - Now she is blessed by a sister!"
Hurriedly attempting to haul Aunt Sadie to her feet, before the scene could degenerate further into a battle of the league of nations and faiths, I called to Uncle Louis and two other onlookers to help me assist Aunt Sadie to her feet. Uncle Louis made the wise decision not to respond to Aunt Sadie's irritated, rhetorical question, "Do you really think I need four of you to help me?"
There was no lessening of the tension between Aunt Sadie and Uncle Louis as I drove them to their newly decorated home, and I could only hope that the Interior designers and decorators had performed a miracle which would live up to her expectations. As I had been forced to move out and stay with my sister, while the decorating was being done, I casually commented, "I am looking forward to seeing home. Are you, Aunt Sadie?" This simply prompted Aunt Sadie to launch into a second outburst of how dreadful the six weeks had been.
"A ship - I never want to see again. For six weeks I am surrounded by nothing but sea!" Wondering exactly what she had expected to see on a cruise, I chose to not say a word, and silently prayed that Uncle Louis had exhausted his witticism too.
It went from bad to worse as I carried their suitcases into a hallway, which resembled the very seas Aunt Sadie had been lamenting. A sea of seemingly endless navy-blue carpet contrasted against a pale 'bluebell' shade of wallpaper. The billowing wall curtains of grey and white gave the impression a thunderstorm was about to erupt. And it did, from Aunt Sadie's mouth, as she opened the double doors to the ballroom-sized lounge. From sky-blue to Royal blue, and all the shades between, I dropped both suitcases in amazement.
Mr. Yentle continued to try explain on the phone to Aunt Sadie that, had she followed his advice and allowed him to instruct in writing, Cowens, the Italian interior design and decorating company, they would have clearly understood the theme was most definitely not 'bluish'.
Copyright David Taub , 2000
David Taub is a member of
The British organisation 'National Union of Journalists' (NUJ);
Freelance writer for various UK and USA magazines;
Website: www.ukpoet.cjb.net
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work
from Stories
|
|
Welcome !
