Enemies: A Love Story

[Dogs Barking,

People Yelling, Indistinct]

[Speaking In German]

[Barking Continues]

[Yelling In German]

[Speaking German]

No! No!

No!

[Woman] No!

[Screaming Fades]

[Panting]

Yadwiga?

## [Klezmer]

## [Continues]

Yadwiga?

- Yadwiga?

- Good morning.

- What time is it?

- It's 10:
00.

I do shopping.

I iron your shirt and underwear.

I clean kitchen floor

and bathroom.

I had my breakfast, but I'm

ready to eat again with you.

Would you like perhaps tea?

Oh, no, no. Herman,

you cannot go with barefoot.

I get your slippers.

I polish them.

- Polish them?

Who polishes slippers?

- They were all dried up.

Ay-yi-yi-yi, Yadzia.

This is America.

Huh? Huh?

You're not

the family servant anymore.

I fill your bathtub now.

## [Humming]

I buy you a soap.

Perfume soap. Smell.

Three for a dime.

Come.

I wash you.

# Oh, if we were

to have a boy #

# Praise the Lord on high #

# In what would

we cradle our joy #

# Praise the Lord on high #

# In the street belo-o-ow #

# In the street belo-o-ow #

#There is a tub of snow ##

- What time does the train leave?

- What?

At, uh, 2:
00.

- Where's the city?

- Philadelphia?

In America.

Where should it be?

Why don't you sell books here?

There are so many people.

People come to Coney Island

for popcorn, not books.

- What kind of books are they?

- Books on how to build bridges...

how to lose weight,

how to run the government.

Books of songs, stories,

plays, the life of Hitler.

They write books

about such swine?

They write about

all kinds of swine.

Tonight I'll be having

supper in Philadelphia.

Who you eat with?

- Alone?

- [Speaking Yiddish]

Talk so I can understand you.

Matzi, Pitzele! Pitzele!

[Laughing]

Hey, Pitzele!

The neighbor with

the white hair said I could

earn $25 a week in a factory.

You want to go to work?

You have to know

how to read and write.

So you take the course.

I will enroll you.

Herman!

[Scoffs]

Herman! The old woman says you

must know the alphabet first.

- I will teach you.

- When? You are never at home.

Such a sweet girl,

that Yadwiga.

[Man] Vito Marc Antonio to run

for mayor! Read all about it!

Marc Antonio to run

for mayor here!

- Yes, sir? Five cents.

- Forverts.

[Grunts]

[Thinking:
Dogs Barking,

People Shouting]

[Barking, Woman Screaming]

[Shouting, Indistinct]

[Voices Stop]

You're supposed to report

first thing in the morning.

Where's my speech

for Atlantic City?

If I had to depend on you,

I'd be an unemployed rabbi.

I got six convalescent homes

to worry about,

not to mention apartments...

in Borough Park,

Williamsburg.

I'm sick and tired of you living

in a house without a telephone.

Oy, such a greenhorn.

I know, I know.

You live with an old tailor

who saved your life in Poland...

and he desperately needs

your rent money to live.

A sob story.

Let me see this.

Now you're starting to write.

This is great. Great.

What's with the scribbling here?

Where's the rest of it?

If you can't finish it, tell me.

I'll get somebody else.

I'll talk into a Dictaphone myself.

I'll have Mrs. Regal type it.

E-Everything will be ready today.

I promise that.

I hope so. Meanwhile,

I'll hold on to this.

Now, once and for all,

your address.

- Where do you live?

Under Yankee Stadium?

- [Both Laughing]

I'm beginning to believe

that you got a wife...

- and you're hiding her from me.

- I wish I had the wife.

If you want one,

you could have one.

I picked out a fine woman for you.

You wouldn't even meet her.

What are you afraid of?

You wait long enough,

you'll marry a shiksa.

The subject for my next speech...

"Mixed marriages: The plague

of the Jews."

Now... are you

going to finish this?

And are you going

to give me your address?

Because if you don't,

I'm gonna have to fire you.

This town is lousy with bookworms.

Everyone wants to be a ghostwriter.

I...

Thirty-nine eighteen

Pelham Drive.

- In-In the Bronx.

- What's the name of the old tailor?

- Pracz.

- Tell him to put in a phone

and send the bill...

- No, no. You can't do that.

- Why?

- You can't install one

without his consent.

- Why should he care?

The ringing frightens him.

It reminds him of Auschwitz.

- There are other refugees,

and they have telephones.

- Well, I-I...

It'll be good for him.

Put it in your room.

In case he gets sick...

he could call a doctor,

maybe get help.

Lunatics. Crazy people.

That's why Hitlers rise up.

Look, I wanted us to be friends.

But there's something about

you that makes it very difficult.

I could help you a great deal,

but you close up like a clam.

Uh, maybe. Maybe I am no

longer a part of this world.

Clichs. Empty words.

I know hundreds of

concentration camp survivors...

some of them practically

on the way to the oven,

but they're doing fine.

They drive cars, they do business

and they have telephones.

Maybe that's my problem.

I was hiding in a barn.

Look, I don't want to force

my friendship on you.

But I'm calling today and

having them install a telephone.

Sno-cones!

Get your sno-cones!

Five-cent sno-cones!

Sno-cones!

Get your sno-cones!

Five-cent sno-cones!

[Fading]

- [Coughing] Ohh.

- My mother.

Oh, Herman. Herman.

You know...

I've got in the habit

of sitting down and falling

right off to sleep.

- Did I sleep long?

- She walks around the house

as quiet as a mouse.

There are real mice here.

I can't tell the difference anymore.

You're starting again.

What is burning?

- Masha, I smell

something is burning.

- Nothing is burning, Mama.

She blames me for

everything that happens.

That's right.

The whole world is-is sane...

- and it's only

your mother that's crazy.

- Don't put words in my mouth.

You listen to how

she's carrying on?

She always has to say

something contrary.

She's just like her father.

May he rest in peace

in the Garden of Eden.

- [Coughing]

- Masha? Masha?

Water. [Coughs]

It's her fault, you know. It's all

her fault. She wouldn't let me die.

I thought she was dead too.

And then one day, she finds me.

The next day, she's already

talking back to me.

Then she marries this man,

this Leon Tortshiner.

Oy. Is that a charlatan!

You know, my daughter, she can

read the most difficult books.

When it comes to people,

she doesn't know her hands

from her feet.

Now look. She's left sitting here,

a deserted wife.

If I want to get married,

I won't wait for a divorce.

Oh... [Sniffs] What is

happening with that stove?

Masha, I smell there's

something burning here!

Look at this! Oh, my God!

There isn't a drop of water

left in this pot!

If God could allow the Jews

of Europe to be killed...

what reason

is there to believe...

he would prevent the

extermination of Jews in America?

God doesn't care.

- Right, Herman?

- Who knows?

Will you leave Herman alone?

First you burn the meat...

and now you're bothering and

pestering him with these questions.

Maybe suffering

is an attribute of God.

Mama baked some cookies.

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