Font: Zapf Elliptical 711 BT
Chapter: “Zofia Stirs Up Trouble”
Book: Newark Love Story
File format: AppleWorks
Computer created on: 2004 eMac
Last year’s A to Z theme started with Allen and ended with Zofia, so it’s kind of fitting that this year’s theme is also bookended by them. Zofia is such an entitled, delusional, often mean-spirited bitch, like Anastasiya, but that’s part of what makes her so fun to write. I can predict exactly what she’s going to do, say, or think even before she does it.
Zofia is a young Shoah survivor, born in Warsaw in 1931, but that doesn’t give her carte blanche to do whatever she wants. Not everyone who survived was a saint. It would be beyond inaccurate to depict every single survivor as a good, moral, loving person. Zofia certainly didn’t earn her own survival. Her sister Maria saved her ass on more than one occasion.
It’s now February 1952, and the Roblensky siblings have come to Newark for third-born Jozef’s wedding to Svetlana Juric. Svetlana, who survived the brutal Croatian Ustashi camp Jasenovac with her mother and four sisters, was raped a number of times and later slept with a number of the sadistic overlords to save her family from deportation and to get them better rations. Jozef knows she was an innocent victim and did it to protect her loved ones, but Zofia is convinced Svetlana is a whore and is horrified Jozef is marrying her. In the wake of this discovery, Zofia is even more of a troublemaker than usual and acts up so much she’s eventually barred from the wedding.
“This must be Zofia.” Mrs. Juric took a long hard look at the third-oldest Roblenska sister in her low-cut skintight blue blouse and a skirt coming up well past her knees.
Zofia would have no part in traipsing around a city she didn’t even know. After fifteen minutes, she whined that her feet were tired and headed back to the empty apartment. She went into Dalibor’s room, shut the door, picked up the latest issue of Life, and started reading. An hour later she heard her brother and his fiancée coming into the apartment but didn’t give herself away. When they went into another room and shut the door, she slipped off her high heels and skulked off to listen in at the door.
“Welcome to our family,” Elizabeth gushed. “We’re so glad to be adding another sister, particularly one who might soon be making us aunts and uncles. And according to Jozek, you’re quite the intellectual. I love a woman who isn’t afraid to be smart and who likes things like museums, art, and literature.”
“How can you marry this woman, Jozek?” Zofia began crying. “If only our parents knew their second-oldest son would grow up to marry a whore.”
“I listened at the door, Jozef. You didn’t know I was in the house when you came in. I’m so ashamed and embarrassed that you want to marry a whore, let alone a whore who willingly copulated with the enemy.”
Jozef slapped her so hard her jaw ached. “First of all, only God has the right to judge. Second, this woman is going to be my wife and your sister-in-law, so you had better respect her. Third, you had no right to be eavesdropping on our personal conversation. I am your older brother and you need to respect me and my future wife.”
“How dare you strike me!” Zofia was in shock from anyone standing up to her with more than words. “And who are you to tell me what to do? You no longer even live in our house, and you’re only two years my elder! Hoch mir nicht ken chaynik!”
He slapped her even harder across the other side of her face. “Any more questions, you pathetic inhuman excuse for life? I swear to God, Mania should’ve left you behind in the bunker! Get out of this house right now unless you want me to do something even worse to you!”
“Don’t worry, whatever it is, I’ll accept your wife no matter what,” Elizabeth said. “As we all know, I’m not a virgin myself and don’t intend to keep that a secret from my eventual husband.”
“That’s just what she told me,” Maria nodded. “Don’t worry, we’ll accept them as our nieces and nephews. We won’t have any doubt that Jozef is the father, though Zosia is welcome to live in a land of unreality.”
This afternoon she was dressed even more scandalously, in a mink-edged pink silk blouse showing more than cleavage, green suede heels even higher and spikier than her other pair, red fishnets, heavier makeup, and a black leather skirt well above her fingertips.
“Special as in modest, demure, and classy? You dress like a prostitute most of the time anyway, so why should tomorrow night be any different?” Jadwiga asked.
Zofia stalked out of the room offended, still wearing her scandalous clothes. Nobody else in their party would let her in their rooms either, so she resorted to sleeping on a pile of towels in the laundry room, uncaring she was putting clean towels onto the dirty floor.
At 6:30, Zofia was discovered. She was outraged to be jerked awake by a bunch of angry maids and the hotel manager, who thought she was a prostitute, a thief, or someone who’d tried to be cute by staying overnight without paying. In her exhausted huff, she gave Samuel’s name.
Samuel was irate when he was called down to the laundry room, before he could even get dressed or say the morning prayers with his little brothers, just to positively identity Zofia.
“Mania really should’ve left you for the Nazis to find and finish off. I have nothing further to say to you.” Samuel dropped her onto the floor like a limp ragdoll and stalked away. “And don’t be surprised if, when we get home, you’re suddenly asked to move out.”