“That’s wonderful,” I said. “That’s marvelous, that’s really wonderful.”
“Of course we’d have to buy,” she said. “We wouldn’t have the kind of deal we have here.”
“Utilities and taxes? No,” I said, “are you kidding? Who could expect to? Not me.”
“Joan Cohen said she’d shop around for a temple once Elaine’s found a place for us.”
“Joan Cohen,” I said. “The one who shops.”
A person’s so single-minded. When Shelley told Connie we’d leave Lud, I thought … But a person’s so single-minded. Our problems were solved. If it cost us a few bucks then it cost us a few bucks. Hey, you don’t get bth, lg lvng rm w/fr pic, rmdld kchn, scrnd brzway, rbi’s stdy, grg, patio & swmng pl, convnt to grvs, crpts, tmbs & mslms? Of course it would take a hefty chunk out of the savings to replace something like that, but I could always take Klein and Charney up on their offer. In fact, I all the way through life on the arm. Who knew better than I? Wasn’t that what so many of my eulogies were about? Sacrifice? Being there for others? I had no problems with that. Anyway, hadn’t we been able to put a little something by? Weren’t we okay in that department? No mortgage payments, no rent, living scot-free years in a big white Colonial, 5 bdm, 31/2would, and decided to call them first thing in the morning. No, to call them that night and leave a message on their machine, to call Shull and Tober, too, and leave a message on theirs, that they could start drawing up the fancy new contracts with the no-cut clauses. (Of course a person has to sacrifice, but if he plays his cards right he might not even have to dip into capital.)
And hadn’t I, misunderstanding or no misunderstanding, and despite my relief — my relief came afterward, a solidly come-by, legitimately earned relief — already shown that willingness to sacrifice which ought, if it already wasn’t, to be all that God ever actually outright required of anyone—vide Abraham, vide Isaac — just that momentary glimpse of the revealed soul like a private part? Hadn’t I already fixed it in my head to go to the wall for my spooked daughter? Even unto such lengths that I was going to uproot everything I knew or was good at, as if everything I knew or was good at were some tainted husbandry, the rotten fruits of a bad season, and the wall was the wailing one. Next month, say, in Jerusalem? So never mind I was relieved. I knew what was in store for us if we emigrated. To humiliate myself and endanger my family. Jersey Jerry Goldkorn, the Klutz of the Kibbutz like a court jester, terrified of incoming on the northern border, terrified of incoming, period. Suspicious of ancient Arab ladies and gentlemen on the buses, suspicious of everyone, innocent-looking kids, the more innocent-looking the guiltier, as if an entire population had become suspects in a mystery, everyone, rabbis and shamuses and balebatish providers, a potentially turned Jew, trust and belief vitiated until all that there was left to believe in were the up-for-grab loyalties, some remarkable shifting double agency. (Besides, I was an American and not only had no use for terrorists but no business in politics. An American’s politics is his standard of living, and I say God bless him for that. Money and comfort. All else is vanity.)
I got out of bed, left the sleeping Shelley, and made my calls, but instead of leaving a complicated message on the machine about having finally decided to take Charney and Klein up on their offer to push grave lots because we were thinking of buying a house and would need the extra income, I simply left my name and asked if they could get back to me in the morning.
I couldn’t get over it. A person’s so single-minded, so committed to one avenue of thought he really can’t see the forest for the trees. Shelley’d told the kid we’d pick up and leave Lud, and I’d thought she meant it was all up with me in the rabbi business, that I couldn’t be Rabbi of Lud anymore. I couldn’t get over it, I really couldn’t. I’m thinking life after Lud, she’s thinking Ridgewood.
And so I’m lying there beside my sleeping Shelley, all stimulated and pleased with how things work out and, if you want to know, actually looking forward to the new duties I’d be taking on if we were to avoid being kicked in the head financially. And kicking ideas around in my head, things I could say to the people I’d be dealing with, the folks whose names Klein and Charney would have given me as leads. For openers — I’d have on my yarmulke, to show the flag, you know? — I’d say, I’d say, oh, “Shalom, shalom. How are you today, Mr. Fishbone? Mrs. Fishbone? I’m Rabbi Jerome Goldkorn, the Rabbi of Lud. Mr. Charney suggested I speak with you. Mr. Charney? Charney and Klein? Realities? What, did I say ‘realities?’ I meant realtors, but face it, it’s realities we’re really talking about here, isn’t it?”
Working variations in my head, versions of the instructions they dictated to their machines, reprises of the messages I had left on them, until, one thing leading to the other as it does in the act of drifting off, I lost my place and fell asleep.
And when the phone woke me the next morning and I heard Emile Tober’s voice, it was as if it had been a perfectly seamless night.
“Yes, Emile,” I said, “thanks for getting back to me. It’s about—”
“I know what it’s about! Just what in the hell is wrong with that lunatic daughter of yours? Has she fucking gone crazy?!”
seven
BECAUSE she’s as single-minded as I am. Single-minded on my behalf, taking an even more single-minded view of things than I did. Not figuring the kibbutz into the equation, not figuring Ridgewood or Israel or the Law of the Return or any other loophole. Too single-minded for that, her single-minded eyes focused on one single-minded principle — Rabbi of Lud or nothing. More single-minded. (Because with me there was never any question of stealth, but then — give the devil her due — she wasn’t her father but only the helpless kid in the affair, so maybe she felt she had to. Well, of course she felt she had to, obviously she felt she had to, though — though this is the father in me talking — it was a perfectly reasonable, perfectly honorable stealth, like that famous letter hidden right in front of your eyes in the story — a sort of purloined stealth. Getting Shelley to drive her to all those libraries that spring and winter and even, when she was over the limit herself, to check out extra books for her on her card. And we worried because no matter how much work she did it didn’t seem to get reflected in her grades. To say nothing of the three or four hundred dollars she was able to put away by never volunteering to return the change we had coming to us, or by saving ten or eleven bucks out of the fifteen we gave her each week for her allowance. The little dickens.)
This is what she said in the deposition:
I, Constance Ruth Goldkorn, being of sound mind and body, do solemnly swear and attest that what I am about to affirm is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.
I didn’t know who she was. When I saw her that first time I didn’t recognize her from Adam and would have hurried away as fast as my legs could carry me, but of course I didn’t, and probably couldn’t, even though I wanted to because when I saw her that first time it was a snow day and the sidewalks and streets were all covered with ice and snow and it was very slippery out, which is the reason, she said, the schools were closed and our paths happened to cross in the first place.
I told her excuse me, that I was on this errand for my mom, and started to walk away from her, and that’s when she started to cry.