Day of Atonement (6 page)

Rina took Decker’s hand and explained that Frieda had invited a few families—ones that hadn’t lived in the community for so long.

“Nice that the woman is hospitable,” Decker said.

“Peter…”

“Okay, okay.”

“How was your walk over here?” Rina asked.

“You know, you might have walked with me,” Decker said. “Especially after all that happened.”

“You’re not going to like this, Peter, but I felt Frieda Levine needed me more than you did.”

Decker stared at her. “Feel the need to mother her, do you?”

“I think that’s a rhetorical question,” Rina said. “I’m not going to answer it.”

Decker jammed his hands in his pockets. “Did you happen to notice who I was walking with?”

“Yes, I did,” Rina said. “So did Mrs. Levine.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“No, but she did have this real…wistful look in her eyes.”

“Wistful?”

“Maybe that’s not the right word.”

Decker bounced on his feet, unable to pace because they were in public and there was no room to pace even if he wanted to. He said, “Is there assigned seating at this shindig?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do I have to sit separate from you?”

“I don’t know that, either.”

“Can I put my elbows on the table?”

“Peter—”

“Forget it.” Decker dug into his hip pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Anywhere I can get a light?”

“You need to smoke?”

“Very badly.”

Rina sighed. “Give it to me. There’s probably a fire under one of the kitchen burners.”

Decker handed her a cigarette. A moment later, she came back with his lighted smoke and suggested they take it outside. Decker said that was a wonderful idea. On the front lawn, they met Jonathan puffing away.

He said, “Great minds think alike.”

Rina took Decker’s arm and said, “Would you two like a formal introduction?”

“Not necessary,” Jonathan said.

“Jonathan grew up with Yitzchak,” Rina said.

“He’s had his history lesson for the day,” Jonathan said.

“Excuse
me
,” Rina said.

Jonathan laughed. “Sorry. I’m in a bad mood. I hate these things. Every year I swear I’m going to beg off coming, and every year my mother pleads and I give in. Mama can be very persistent. It’s
religion
to her. The family’s got to be together on holidays!”

Rina felt Decker’s arm tense.

Jonathan said, “I’ve got to marry a woman who doesn’t get along with my family and use her as an excuse.” He said to Decker, “How ’bout yourself, pal? You look really excited.”

“I’m thrilled.”

“Can read it all over your face.”

Decker laughed.

Rina said, “I think her hospitality is nice.”

“
You’re
nice.” Jonathan said to Decker, “Rina says I’m too sarcastic. Do you think I’m sarcastic?”

“Don’t get me involved in your squabbles,” Decker said.

“You’re way too sarcastic, Yonie,” Rina said. “That’s why you’re having trouble finding a nice woman.”

“
His
sarcasm doesn’t put you off,” Jonathan said, pointing to Decker.

“Akiva is not sarcastic,” Rina said.

“I’m not?” Decker said.

“No,” Rina said. “You’re cynical. There’s a big difference.”

The men laughed. Decker crushed out his cigarette, feeling a bit more relaxed. Jonathan followed suit a moment later.

“What the heck,” he said. “It’s a bad vice.”

A woman stormed out of the house. She was short and thin and had she been in a better mood might have been considered attractive, but her expression was chiseled out of anger, her blue eyes flashing sparks like a hot wire in water. She was wearing a navy knit suit, the skirt falling three inches below her knee, and a pair of matching leather boots. Covering her hair was a blue headdress pinned with a rhinestone brooch. She marched down the walkway, tented her eyes with her hands, then scanned the sidewalk.

“Lose something, Breina?” Jonathan said.

The woman turned to him and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Have you seen Noam?”

“Which one is he?” Jonathan said. “I get them all mixed up.”

“That’s
not
funny, Yonasan,” Breina said.

“No, I haven’t seen him,” Jonathan said.

Breina took one more look down the block. Muttering to herself, she stomped back into the house.

“Ezra’s wife,” Jonathan explained. “She adores me.”

“I can tell,” Decker said.

Jonathan said, “Noam’s the second of five. A weird kid. Always smiling but he never looks happy.”

Rina said, “Jonathan…”

“It’s true,” Jonathan said. “She blames it on me. Anything remotely bad is blamed on my secular influence. God, I wish I had the power they attribute to me.”

He paused a moment.

“I feel bad for Noam. He’s a lost soul.”

“You’re projecting,” Rina said.

Jonathan said, “I’m a lost soul. I admit it freely.”

“Aren’t we all?” Decker said.

“Yeah, but it takes on greater significance in this community,” Jonathan said. “The object in Boro Park is to conform.”

“That’s not true,” Rina said.

“It is true,” Jonathan said. “Noam’s an obnoxious kid, but I feel for him. You know, about six months ago, he came to me to mooch twenty bucks. I was a little put out, but I gave him the money anyway. Before he left, he started asking me some pretty soul-searching questions.”

“What kind of questions?” Rina asked.

“Why did I leave Boro Park? Why did I become a Conservative rabbi? Did that mean that I really didn’t believe in God?” Jonathan sighed. “According to the Orthodox, I really don’t believe in the same God as they do because I think oral law is not as holy as the written law.”

Rina squirmed. Jonathan picked up on it. He said, “See, she thinks I’m an
apikoros
, too.”

“Cut it out, Jonathan,” Rina said.

“For your information,” Jonathan said, “I was very careful not to explain my decision to Noam because I didn’t want to subvert my brother.” To Decker, he said, “Ezra and I have a very sticky relationship and I didn’t want to add any more hostile fuel to the fire.”

“So what did you tell Noam?” Decker asked.

“I told him he should ask his father.”

“Smart man,” Rina said.

Jonathan shook his head in disgust. “It was a cop-out, Rina. Noam still has those doubts. Who’s he going to discuss them with? And don’t say the
rabbaim
. They’ll just do to him what they did to you—”

“Jonathan, you have no sense!” Rina snapped.

“No, wait a minute.” Decker held out his palms. “Wait a minute.” He turned to Rina. “What did they do to you?”

Jonathan said, “I thought you told him.”

“You are really, really…” Rina clenched her fist and faced Peter. “They didn’t do anything.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” Decker said.

“They tried to talk her out of marrying you,” Jonathan said. “Subtly, of course. They’d visit in pairs—one of them the guy who’s trying to be your pal. Almost like a good cop, bad cop kind of thing.” He looked at Decker. “You guys really do that, don’t you?”

Decker said they did.

Jonathan said, “I guess good psychology is good psychology. You really have to be aware of what’s going on, or else you’ll fall for it.”

“I think you’ve said enough, Jonathan,” Rina said.

“Let him finish,” Decker insisted.

Jonathan went on, “They came over late at night when she was zonked, turned the lights real low, talked in very soft voices…. ‘Rinalah. You’re a young woman. You shouldn’t be closing yourself off to one man. You’re a woman of valor, you should have a Torah scholar like Yitzchak
alav hashalom
. I know such a boy. And he wants to meet you—’”

“Stop it!” Rina whispered. She looked at Peter. His face was flushed with anger.

Jonathan turned to Decker. “She’d call me afterward. See, they pulled the same shtick on me when I decided to quit the yeshiva. We commiserated. You don’t have to be angry at them, Akiva. In their own minds, they were just doing what they thought was right. Besides, Rina seemed angry enough for both of you. Her mind was made up a long time ago. She only had eyes for you.”

No one spoke for a moment. Finally, Decker let go with a laugh, put his arm around Rina.

He said, “At least I know you’re loyal.”

“It’s called
love
,” Rina said. She looked at Jonathan. He was very troubled. She said, “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“I’m glad, but that’s not what’s bothering me,” Jonathan said. “I’m thinking of Noam. Who does he talk to, Rina?
Maybe I should try to approach him. Take the plunge and incur my brother’s wrath.”

Ezra Levine came out of the house, repeating the exact dance his wife had performed minutes ago. He noticed Jonathan and said, “You’ve seen Noam, Yonasan?”

“No, I haven’t, Ez.”

“You didn’t see him or talk to him today?”

Jonathan noticed a hint of concern in his brother’s voice. “No, I didn’t.”

Ezra looked down the sidewalks again. Lots of people walking home from synagogue. But nowhere was his son.

“Want me to look for him, Ez?” Jonathan said. To Decker he said, “Noam wanders off all the time. Maybe now’s a good time to reestablish some contact.”

Ezra took off his hat, adjusted the black yarmulke underneath, then returned the hat to his head. He rocked on his feet for a moment, then said, “Do you mind, Yonie?”

“No problem,” Jonathan said.

“I’ll come with you,” Decker blurted.

Rina gave Decker a look of surprise. “Anything to get out of lunch.”

Decker tossed her a smile laced with emotion. Immediately, Rina felt his sadness. What that smile had told her.

Jonathan.

His
brother.

Talk about establishing contact.

Decker caught himself. “I’m not trying to get out of anything. I just thought Jonathan might want to avail himself of my trained eye.”

Everyone burst into laughter that held more relief than mirth.

It was taking
too long, everyone making desperate excuses for the delay.

“They got lost,” Breina said. “Go look for them, Ezra.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Ezra countered. “Yonie grew up here.”

“Yonie’s been away,” Breina fired back.

Shimon said, “Yonie didn’t get lost, Breina. Calm down. They’ll be back soon. Yonie probably started talking to someone and forgot there are forty people waiting for him to come back. You know how he is.”

“He’s the absentminded professor, Breina,” Miriam said. “Don’t worry.”

“He’s impossible when it comes to time,” Faygie added.

“Always late,” Rina’s sister-in-law, Esther, chimed in.

Rina didn’t buy it. Even if Jonathan was irresponsible, Peter certainly wasn’t. But she didn’t say anything.

Everyone was quiet for a minute. Ezra broke the silence.

“I thought you were watching him,” he scolded his wife.

“I had the girls,” Breina said. “The boys are your responsibility.”

“Noam’s a year past bar mitzvah,” Ezra said. “I should watch him like an infant?”

“I’m not saying you should watch him like an infant,”
Breina said. “But you can keep your eyes open. You know how Noam is. Lost in his own world. Just like Yonasan—”

“So if you know how he is,” Ezra interrupted, “you can’t keep your eyes open?”

Breina repeated, “He’s just like Yonasan—”

Frieda Levine broke in. “Stop bickering, both of you. You’re making all of us nervous.” But Frieda’s sense of dread had started long before this happened.

This
was not something that would right itself.
This
was
Yad Elokeem
—the hand of God—punishing her, condemning her for not being strong enough. It had taken Him forty-one years, but she’d known that the time would come eventually. And now He had chosen the weakest of her sons, her most vulnerable grandchild, knowing how much it would hurt.

Her lost child—had he come as part of God’s vengeance? Or had he been sent for some other reason? Perhaps the Almighty in His infinite wisdom was also testing her. Perhaps she could earn redemption if she showed herself worthy—worthy of His mercy, worthy of Akiva’s mercy.

Whatever was expected of her, whatever she must do, she would do. She would be strong. To her husband, Frieda said, “Make kiddush. Akiva and Yonasan will make their own kiddush when they come back.”

Alter Levine was sitting at one of the folding tables, a volume of Talmud in front of him. He looked up when he heard his wife speak, but returned his attention to the Talmud when no one else moved.

Ezra gathered his other children and asked, “Who was the last one to see Noam?”

Aaron, the eldest, said, “He walked to shul with us, Abba. I davened after that. I didn’t pay attention to him.”

“He probably went to a friend’s, Ezra,” Miriam said. “He shows up at my house unannounced all the time.”

“He does?” Ezra said. “What does he want?”

“I don’t think he wants anything, Ezra.”

“What does he do then?”

“I don’t know. I give him a snack.”

“He can’t come home for a snack?” Breina said.

“It’s part of being a teenager, Breina. Sometimes a snack at your aunt’s house is better than a snack at home. Maybe he went to a friend’s house for a snack.”

“On
Rosh Hashanah
?” Breina said.

“Maybe he went to your brother’s,” Ezra said. “If he went to one relative, maybe he went to another?”

“Enough!” Frieda said. She turned to her husband and again instructed him to make kiddush.

“No one is sitting,” Alter said.

“Everyone sit down,” Shimmy said.

“Where should we sit, Frieda?” asked Sora Lazarus.

The next few minutes were spent trying to get everyone seated. Rina instructed the boys to sit at the same table as their cousins. She asked them if they had seen Noam. Both shook their heads no.

Sammy whispered in his mother’s ear, “I didn’t see him in shul today.”

Rina said, “You probably just missed him, Shmuel. Aaron said he walked to shul with them.”

“He wasn’t in shul,” Sammy insisted.

“How do you know?” Rina said.

“Because anytime I’m in town, Noam’ll hunt me out just to bug me. And he didn’t bug me today.”

Rina said, “Maybe he’s bored with bugging you.”

“No way, José. He bugged me yesterday, first thing. He’s a real jerk, Eema.”

Rina sighed. The kid did have problems. And she knew why Sammy was hostile toward him. Behind Sammy’s back, Noam had dubbed Peter and her with crude epithets. Naturally, Sammy had found out about it. There had been a fight, and Noam, being older and bigger, had given Sammy a black eye. At the time, Rina had been outraged, about to make a huge stink. But Sammy implored her not to say anything to Breina and Ezra. She backed off, knowing that her
son had been fighting for her honor and her interference might somehow emasculate him. The whole incident eventually blew over, but not without psychological ramifications. She was cool to Breina after that, aware that Noam’s thoughts didn’t originate out of nowhere.

“Any idea where he might have gone?” Rina said.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Sammy said. “Noam’s always getting into trouble. He’s a mental case.”

“Shmuli, try to be charitable.”

Sammy gave her an impish smile. “Is Mrs. Levine serving us kid food or do we get to eat the good stuff like you guys?”

Rina was about to launch into a speech, but Sammy preempted her. “Forget it, Eema.” He kissed her hand. “Go sit down.”

Rina wanted to squeeze him and would have if they’d been alone. But alas, her boys were at
that
age—embarrassed by her hugs and kisses. So she just smiled at her sons, then found her place at the table. Her seat was sandwiched between her sisters-in-law.

Alter Levine made the ritual blessing over the wine. Following kiddush came the ceremony of the washing of the hands, then the breaking of bread. With all the people and one sink, the washing and blessings took over ten minutes. Finally the meal was about to be served and six women jumped up to help Frieda Levine. Frieda instructed the guests to sit, her daughters and daughters-in-law would help her and there was no room in the kitchen for anyone else.

Esther patted Rina on the shoulder and whispered, “You look pale.”

“It’s been a tiring trip,” Rina said. “And this incident isn’t helping.”

Rina’s other sister-in-law, Shayna, agreed. “Poor Breina. Noam has been giving her such a rough time lately. Not a bad boy. Just doesn’t have any sense. No
sechel
.”

Esther said, “Remember that fight that he and Sammy—”

“Yes,” Rina said. “He’s a very impressionable kid.”

“A lonely boy, if you ask me,” Esther said. “This thing
must be bad news. Why else would Ezra ask Akiva to look for him?”

“Jonathan volunteered to look for him,” Rina said. “Not Akiva. Akiva just went along to keep him company. Akiva doesn’t even know what the boy looks like.”

“Poor Breina,” Shayna repeated. “It’s tough to raise teenage boys.”

Rina said, “Shhh, she’s coming.”

The appetizer was served. Rina was on her second sweet and sour meatball when there was a loud knock on the door. Shimon and Ezra leaped up at the same time. Ezra got to the door first.

Rina studied the men as they came into the room. Jonathan seemed anxious. Peter, on the other hand, was calm, expressionless—his eyes unreadable. His professional demeanor. That was really worrisome. For a moment, she flashed to those young faces plastered on milk cartons. The images were too gruesome to dwell upon.

Ezra said, “You didn’t find him.”

The women came out from the kitchen. Breina’s lip started to quiver. Frieda began to stagger backward. Esther stood up and offered Frieda her chair. Ezra told everyone to just calm down. But he was anything but tranquil.

“He’s probably at a friend’s,” Jonathan said. “I didn’t know all his friends—”

“He wouldn’t go without asking me,” Breina said. Her voice was shrill. “They wouldn’t let him come without asking me. Not on
Rosh Hashanah
.”

Ezra said, “Did you check the house? Maybe he went home?”

“Twice,” Jonathan said. “If he’s home, he’s not answering.”

“I’ll go check,” Ezra said to Breina. “I’ll check his friends, your brother’s house—”

“I already checked Shlomi’s house,” Jonathan said. “He’s not there.” He whispered a damn under his breath.

Decker said to Ezra, “How about if I come with you—”

“No,” Ezra snapped. He hugged himself and exhaled slowly. “No, that isn’t necessary.”

“Let Akiva come with you, Ez,” Jonathan said.

“Why?” Ezra said. “Do you think I need a policeman to look for my son?” He turned to Decker, his face a mask of pure fear. “Do
you
think I need the police, is that it?”

“No,” Decker said.

“Then why do you want to come?” Ezra shouted.

Decker shrugged and said, “Up to you, Ezra. You want some company, I’ll be happy to tag along.”

“I don’t care who goes,” Breina shrieked. “Just
go
.” She burst into tears.

“Why don’t the two of you split up,” Shimon suggested. “It will go twice as fast.”

Decker answered, “I don’t know who his friends are or where they live.”

“I can take you to them,” Aaron, Noam’s eldest brother, volunteered.

“I don’t
need
anyone with me!” Ezra protested.

“Then go already,” Breina said.

Frieda spoke up, “Ezra, take Akiva with you.”

“Mama, there’s no reason for a policeman—”

“Take him!” Frieda ordered. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Decker caught Frieda’s eye. Outwardly, she seemed in control. Her voice was firm, no tears to be seen. Her hands weren’t shaking but they were clenched into balls, her knuckles almost white. What he saw was a frightened grandmother, trying very hard to keep a tight rein on her emotions. An expression he’d witnessed countless times as a detective in Juvey Division. Time to put the past aside. He gave her a shrug that said the situation was no big deal. She shrugged back.

Their first real communication: a series of noncommittal shrugs.

Ezra, on the other hand, was losing ground to his anxiety. He continued to bite his nails. His posture was stiff, his feet
frozen in place as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to move.

Not that Decker thought he was overreacting. Although the kid had been gone for only a few hours, the circumstances were unusual. The cop in him didn’t like it. He was experienced enough to know that most of the time, the panic did turn out to be much ado about nothing. But he couldn’t help thinking about the flip side—those ice-cold, barely pubescent bodies lying on steel slabs in the morgue….

He needed to prod them into action. He put his arm around Ezra and gently propelled him to the door. “Let me come with you, Ezra. I can use the exercise. How many houses are we talking about?”

“Where should I go, Breina?” Ezra asked of his wife. His voice cracked.

Breina rattled off a list of ten names.

“Piece of cake,” Decker said. “You know all of the houses?”

Ezra nodded.

“Okay,” Decker said. “Let’s get it over with.” He patted Ezra on the back. “You lead.”

He noticed Breina Levine had her hand to her chest. She seemed to be breathing rapidly. As he crossed the threshold of the door, Decker whispered to Jonathan to keep an eye on his sister-in-law.

The food was served and the groups broke down into two categories: those who ate because they were nervous and those whose stomachs were shut down by anxiety. The wait seemed interminable. In fact, it took only an hour for Decker and Ezra to return. Breina Levine took one look at her husband’s face and collapsed into a chair. Frieda rushed into the kitchen to get a glass of water for her.

Decker said to Jonathan and Shimon, “Send everyone except family home.” He paused, thinking about that.

He
was friggin family.

“You think it’s bad?” Jonathan asked.

It wasn’t good, Decker thought. But there was no point in offering a worried uncle his professional opinion.

“We don’t know where the boy is. That’s all we know right now. We don’t know where he is. One step at a time. First, you clear the place. Send the guests home. Have the kids—the brothers, sisters, and cousins—wait in the back room. I’ll talk to them in a moment.”

It took fifteen minutes for everyone to find coats and jackets. People patted hands, reassured the distraught parents and grandparents. Nobody believed a word they were saying.

When everyone was gone, Decker sat down at the dining-room table and tried to clear his mind of morbid thoughts. Perversely, all he could think about were the tragedies. The overwhelming grief on the parents’ faces as he broke the bad news. It made his stomach churn.

The table was still piled with food. But the salad had wilted under the weight of the dressing, the cooked vegetables had wrinkled, the edges of the roast beef had begun to curl. It was past four and Decker hadn’t eaten all day. He needed nutrition if he was going to think clearly. He picked up a chicken leg and bit into it.

“Sorry, but I’ve got to get something in my stomach,” he said.

Shimon gave him a clean plate. “Of course. Of course. You need to eat. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, this is just fine,” Decker said.

Absently, Ezra said, “
Mincha
’s in twenty minutes.”

No one said anything.

“Tephila!”
Ezra said. “I need to pray.” His eyes flooded with tears.
“Tephila! Tzedakah! Tshuvah!”
He buried his head in his hands and held back tears. “It’s my fault…. I don’t learn with him anymore…. I’m not patient enough—”

“Ezra, stop it,” Shimon said. “You’re a fine father.”

With moist eyes, Ezra looked at Decker. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Decker said. “It’s tough. But there’s
still a lot we can do. Ezra, did you specifically ask your children if they knew where he might be?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“And they don’t know?” Decker said.