Гарри Кемельман: Thursday The Rabbi Walked Out

Although she agreed to meet him, it was more to test herself than because she felt any desire to see him, and when he appeared at her apartment, she noted dispassionately that he was far less attractive physically than she remembered him, the skin at his throat sagged and he looked old.

"You've lost some weight, haven't you?" she remarked.

"That's right. I was sick—a mild heart attack, they wanted me to lose some weight and take it easy."

"I'm sorry." She was not really concerned, only polite.

"The boy—he's mine, isn't he?" he asked eagerly. "No, Ellsworth, he's mine." "You know what I mean—" "Yes, of course."

"Why didn't you let me know? Why didn't you get in touch with me? You could have got the address from the office here."

"What for, Ell?" She laughed. "So you could come back and marry me to give the baby a name? Or would you have insisted that I join you in Germany and have my baby there, or have it aborted there?"

"But dammit, Esther—"

"It's not easy having a baby, Ell, especially when you have to have it all alone. But once you live through it, then it's not so bad. From what I hear from some of my friends, there's a lot to be said for bringing up a child without the interference of a father."

He thought she was trying to hurt him, and he felt he had to retaliate. "That's the Jew in you,” he said spitefully. "You enjoy suffering for the pleasure of making us feel guilty."

If his words cut, she did not show it, she shook her head. "No, you're wrong, there's no pleasure in suffering. Not for me there isn't. But it doesn't last forever." She smiled. "And as it turns out, having Billy all by myself was the making of me."

"It gave you new depths of feeling. I suppose,” he sneered.

She chuckled. "No, it was just that because of him. I got my chance. I had got a job in this little nightclub. It didn't pay much, but then I wasn't very good. I'd sing a little, tell a few jokes and do a couple of impersonations. But one night Damon Parker came in with a party, slumming, I suppose, after my act, he asked me to join the party, and I told him I had to get back for Billy's night feeding, he's an emotional, sentimental guy, and he got all worked up when I told him that I was bringing up the baby myself, he saw me as an original—the New Woman, and he invited me to appear on his show, well, with the exposure I got, I was made."

"So I and the baby were just stepping-stones to youa career."

"Something like that."

"All right, what about now? And the future?"

"What about it?"

"I have a share in the child. Billy is my son as much as he is yours."

"No, Ell, you have no share in him at all. What do you want to do? Contribute to his support? I don't need it."

"I mean share in his upbringing, in his education, a boy needs a man to look up to, an image to model himself after, all the psychologists agree on that."

"Just the men psychologists, I expect," was her comment.

"Even if we don't get married, you could come down with him to visit with me at Barnard's Crossing, then when he gets older, he can come down on his own summers."

"No, Ell, I don't want him to know that you are his father."

"But sooner or later, you'll have to tell him, he'll ask, he'll want to know."

"Of course, and I've prepared for it. I've worked up a perfectly wonderful father for him, an idealist, a soldier who went off to war—"

"Which war?"

"Well, that was a problem, of course, because there haven't been any wars recently, at least, none that we've been engaged in, there are always military actions of one sort or another that mercenaries take part in. But I didn't want that for him, and then I thought of the Suez action of Britain. France and Israel. It was over before Billy was born, or conceived, but there's still a lot of unofficial fighting going on over there in the Middle East. So I worked up a young Israeli who came here to study, we met and we fell in love, then he had to return to Israel. I was to follow and we were to get married there."

"But he gets killed in some military skirmish?" "Exactly. So I stay here to have my baby." Thinking it over afterward, and in his loneliness in

Barnard's Crossing, he thought about it a good deal, it sometimes seemed to him that she had not been unconcerned and indifferent; that on the contrary, she had been vindictive and had gone out of her way to hurt him, and he was inclined to interpret her attitude as an indication that deep down she still cared for him, that she had perhaps hoped to provoke him into a quarrel that would lead to a reconciliation, the thought was in back of his mind the next time he came to New York and arranged to see her, and it was never totally absent each of the times he saw her over the years.

But there were also times when he brooded over her coldness, her lack of feeling. It was then that he thought she was trying to avenge herself, and that her consenting to see him whenever he came to New York was so she could enjoy the satisfaction of seeing his hurt.

On the other hand. Billy was obviously always pleased to see him. Of course, it might be because he always brought a gift. But he was sure the boy really liked him.

Whenever he tried to involve himself in Billy's development, she brusquely brushed him aside and refused to accept his advice or recognize his concern, and that hurt, she might talk about the boy's progress at school, or problems that had developed, but it was as she might to a casual acquaintance and not as to one who had any involvement in the matter.

It was on Jordon's most recent visit, however, that she seemed inclined to admit him to a share in their son, there had evidently been some crises, and her confidence in her ability to cope had been badly shaken.

"He refuses to go to college,” she announced tragically.

"Well, that's not so terrible,” he remarked. "What's he want to do instead?"

"Nothing, he has no plans, he's not interested in anything, he doesn't read, he doesn't do anything, he just mopes."

"I expect he's tired, tired of school and study. You've probably been pushing him hard to make good grades so that he can get into a good college, and he's just sick of books. Why not let him take a year off?"

"To do what?" she challenged. "To work. Let him get a job."

"What can he do? He's not trained for anything."

"Well, it doesn't have to be a big executive type of job, any job will do where he's kept busy and makes some money."

"And if he works for a couple of weeks and then quits?" "Then insist that he get another job."

"But I won't be here. My agent has arranged a European tour for me."

"Oh, I see. What you're really interested in is having someone keep an eye on him. Tell you what, let him come and visit with me for a while."

Instantly she was suspicious. "So you can tell him you're his father and try to take him away from me?"

He laughed. "Oh no. I'm not that much of a damn fool as to think I could compete with an Israeli war hero."

"Then why do you want him?"

"Well, because I am his father and I feel soma responsibility and it might be kind of nice to have a young person around. I had another heart attack last year. Nothing serious, but it's probably a good idea that I have someone in the house with me in the evening and at night, the housekeeper usually leaves right after she does the dinner dishes."

"You mean you want someone to look after you?"

"Oh no. I don't need any looking after. It's just that it would be nice knowing someone was in the house at night. If anything were to happen to me, he could call a doctor."

"And what would he do all day long?"

"He'd work, of course. I could get him a job of some kind. I'm pretty well-known in town, he's eighteen? nineteen?"

"Eighteen."