Гарри Кемельман - Monday the Rabbi Took Off

"Now this rabbi that was the rabbi in the temple where I used to go in Connecticut where I came from— in fact, he married me— he's just retired after being rabbi in that same temple for thirty years. They made him like rabbi emeritus. Now. don't get the idea that Rabbi Deutch is some old geezer with a cane. He's sixty-five, but he's got a lower golf handicap than I have."

"Does he have an accent or something? I mean, does he speak good English, or is he one of those old-timers?" asked Drexler.

"Does he have an accent or something? I mean, does him. Look, he was born here, and so was his father, and I think even his grandfather, or maybe he came here when he was a little kid. He's related to the New York Deutch family, you know, the bankers."

"So why would he want to be a rabbi? Why didn't he go into the banking business?" Drexler asked the question, but it had occurred to most of them.

"Look, let's face it; there are guys like that. You know, it's like a crusade—"

"How about the rebbitzin?"

Winer made a circle of thumb and forefinger to indicate complete approval. "Believe me, the rebbitzin is real class, a Wellesley graduate, or maybe Vassar or Bryn Mawr— anyway, one of the top women's colleges. Matter of fact, if you want to know something, she's a Stedman."

"What's a Stedman?"

"Dan Stedman. Didn't you ever hear of him?"

"You mean the commentator guy? On TV?"

"That's right. That's her brother."

"Sounds pretty good." said Raymond. "Could you give him a ring and arrange to have him come down so we could get a look at him and see what he sounds like, maybe have him take a Friday evening service?"

"Unh-unh." Winer shook his head. "A man like Rabbi Deutch you don't ask him to come down for a tryout. If you guys are interested. I could sound him out. If he's interested, we could drive down to see him and talk to him."

Suddenly the Smalls found themselves popular. People they hardly knew found an occasion to drop in on them— to wish them a safe and pleasant flight, but especially a safe one. "We were planning to go about this time, but my wife thinks we ought to wait until things quiet down a bit— fella could get hurt when one of those bombs go off [self-conscious chuckle]— so we decided to take a trip to Bermuda instead."

To give them names and addresses of people they should look up. "I met him when I was there four years ago, and he's doing some very important research at the university. One of the outstanding men there. I'm writing to tell him you're coming. You call him as soon as you get settled."

To show them the itinerary of the trip they took last year together with colored slides and photographs of the places they had seen and to make sure that they wouldn't miss what they regarded as the highlights of their trip.

"I took this on a kind of hazy day. so you don't get the full effect. Rabbi, but I tell you, the view is breathtaking. And be sure and see..."

Meyer Paff. one of the pillars of the temple, came to see the Smalls. He was a huge tun of a man with large features. His sausagelike fingers closed over the rabbi's hand in greeting. "Take my advice. Rabbi, don't get sucked into the sight-seeing rat race. I been there four times already. The first time they had me going from early morning till night. After the first week I said I'm not moving from the hotel. And that's what I did all the other times we went. I'd stay in the hotel, sitting around the pool, shmoosing. playing cards. The missus, of course, she wanted to see things. She'd take one of these tours at the drop of a hat. So I told her to go and she could tell me about it afterward. You know, any other country I wouldn't think of letting her go alone, but in Israel, you feel it's safe. There's always Hadassah ladies that if she don't know them, she at least knows somebody they know. It's like family. And I'll tell you something: Just before coming home. I'd buy a bunch of slides of different places and when people asked me. 'You saw such a place, didn't you?' I'd say, 'You bet. Terrific. I got some swell shots of it.'"

Ben Gorfinkle came to see him. "I was talking to my brother-in-law. He's editor of the Lynn Times-Herald ', you know. He thought maybe you'd be interested in writing some pieces for the paper."

"But I'm no reporter." said the rabbi.

"I know, but what he had in mind was background stuff, personal impressions, local color. That kind of thing. All he could pay would be regular space rates. I don't know what it would come to— probably not much, and of course, he couldn't promise to run them until he'd seen them— but the way I look at it. it would keep your name in front of the public."

"I see." said Rabbi Small. "Well, thank him for me, and thank you."

"You'll do it?" Ben asked eagerly. "I can't tell until I'm there."

"I really think you ought to try. Rabbi." said Gorfinkle, barely masking his disappointment.

"I understand. Mr. Gorfinkle."

Mr. Jacob Wasserman, the elderly founder of the temple, frail and with parchmentlike skin, came to see him. "You're wise to go now, Rabbi, while you're young and can enjoy it. All my life I’ve promised myself I'd go, and always something came up. so I couldn't. And now, when I'm under the doctor's care you could say every minute, it's too late."

The rabbi led him to a chair and eased him into it. "They've got doctors there too. Mr. Wasserman."

"I'm sure, but to go on a trip like this, it takes more than just wanting. The heart got to spring up at the idea, and with me, the way I am now. a little walk or maybe a ride in the car for an hour when my son drives me. or Becker comes, is already enough. But it makes me happy that you're going."

The rabbi smiled. "All right. I'll try to enjoy it for both of us."

"Good, you'll be my ambassador there. Tell me. Rabbi, this man who's coming to take your place, this Rabbi Deutch. you know him?"

"I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard about him. He has a very good reputation. From what I hear, the congregation is lucky to get him."

The old man nodded. "Maybe someone not so good would have been better."

"How do you mean. Mr. Wasserman?"

"Well, there are parties, cliques. I don't have to tell you."

"Yes, I know," said the rabbi softly.

"And you'll be gone how long?"

"Oh, three months anyway. Maybe more."

The old man put a blue-veined hand on the rabbi's forearm. "But you're coming back?"

The rabbi smiled. "Who can tell what will happen tomorrow, let alone in three months?"

"But right now you're planning to come back?"

His relationship with the old man was such that he could neither fence with him nor fib to him. "I don't know." he said. "I just don't know."

"Ah." said Wasserman. "that's what I was afraid of."

Hugh Lanigan. Barnard's Crossing chief of police, came to see him. "Gladys had a little gift for the missus that she asked me to drop off." He deposited a gift-wrapped package on the table.

"I'm sure Miriam will be very pleased."

"And look." he said, "if you're worried about the house being closed up all the time. I’ve given orders to have the man on the beat and the cruising car check the place regular."

"Why. thanks. Chief. I was meaning to drop down to the station to leave a key and tell them when we were going."

"I suppose you got to take this trip sometime."

"Got to?" The rabbi looked surprised. "I mean, it's like a priest going to Rome."

"Oh, I see." said the rabbi. "Something like that, only more so. Actually it's a religious injunction with us, and for all Jews, not just for rabbis."

Lanigan still was trying to understand. "Like a Moslem going to Mecca?"

"NO-o, not really. It doesn't confer any special grace, any special religious points." He considered how to answer. "I feel it like a kind of pull, like what I imagine draws a homing pigeon back to where it came from."