Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home (9 page)

BOOK: Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home
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“Seventh-Day Adventist?”

“No. although I hold with a lot they believe in. I keep the Sabbath because that’s the day the Lord told me to keep.”

“How do you mean the Lord told you?”

“Well, it’s hard to explain – I mean just how He told me. You see it wasn’t words, but if you translate it into words, it would be something like, ‘Raphael, after spending six days in making the universe and everything in it, I rested, and that was a good thing, And what is good for Me is good for you, because I made you in My image. I want you to work six days in every week and then rest on the seventh. That’s the right proportion. And one is as important as the other.’”

The rabbi looked at him doubtfully, wondering if he were pulling his leg, but Carter’s face was open and without guile.

“And when did this happen?” asked the rabbi carefully, not knowing what sort of person he was dealing with.

“You mean when did the Lord give me that particular command?”

“I mean when did He talk to you?”

The carpenter laughed. “Bless you, Rabbi, it happens right along – real frequent. Sometimes more than at other times. Sometimes almost every day maybe for a week. And then weeks go by, and I don’t hear a thing. The first time I had a lapse like that. I got real worried. I tried to make contact and I prayed. I said, ‘Is there something Your servant has done that offends You?’ And I didn’t get any answer that day, but the very next day. He spoke to me again, and this time He told me not to worry about not hearing from Him – that He wouldn’t be talking to me unless He had something definite He wanted to tell me. And that if I didn’t hear from Him, it meant everything was going along all right. And thinking it over afterward, I had to admit that all that time things had been going along nicely for me – no trouble, no problems, just kind of humdrum, you might say.”

Carter had already begun, and he continued as he talked. He cleaned all the old putty out of the sash and then scooped a handful of putty from a tin and began to roll it in his hands. He straightened up, and the rabbi was startled to see that although his complexion was swarthy, his eyes were a clear, piercing blue.

“It was right after I was married. Me and the wife had just got back from our honeymoon to Niagara Falls, and we were visiting around – you know, her folks – aunts, uncles, she showing me off, so to speak – and to my aunts and uncles so’s I could show her off. It was kind of expected in those days. Well, we were visiting her Aunt Dorset and Uncle Abner. That was over by Lynnfield they lived. And there were other people there – cousins and such. And suddenly while we were all sitting in the parlor talking and Aunt Dorset was passing around some fruit. I heard a voice saying, ‘Stand upon thy feet, and I will speak to you. ‘ So. I got up and heard a voice talking, and it told me the first chapter of Genesis.

“Now, the point is that in all my life I had never read the Bible, but when I came to that day at Aunt Dorset’s, I could repeat that first chapter of Genesis almost word for word.”

“And what did your wife – and the rest of the company say?”

“They told me that I just stood there and didn’t talk to anyone for some minutes. They thought I was under some kind of spell, maybe like a cataleptic, and I guess there was even some discussion about going for a doctor.”

“And then?”

“And then the same thing happened the next day. I was on a job and working when it happened, and I was told another chapter. And I got a chapter or so every single day until I went right through the Pentateuch.”

“And then?”

Carter shook his head. “After that I would get messages only when I needed them.” He cut off a length of cord and rain it through the sash weight.

“How do you mean, when you needed them?”

He ran the weight up and down a couple of times to see if the pulley was moving freely. “Well. Rabbi, take the time the town voted on fluoridation. I was bothered about that. Myself. I didn’t think it was a good idea. I don’t believe much in chemicals – I mean taking them into your body. But the doctor who was taking care of my wife while she was having our last baby. I got to talking to him about it, and he was all for it. So I had doubts, you might say. Him being a fine man and respected. And then I got a message, and I knew I had been right in the first place.” He swung the window in and then turned around and faced the rabbi. “Look at me. Rabbi. I’m fifty-eight and never been what you might call really sick a day in my life. I’ve got all my teeth, and I don’t wear glasses. That’s because I live right. I don’t eat meat, and I don’t eat candy. I don’t drink tea or coffee or tonic.”

“Was the injunction against meat one of the instructions you received? That’s not quite the same as the dietary laws in the Pentateuch.”

“Well, it is and it ain’t. Rabbi. He expects you to use your intelligence.” He snapped the edging of the window in place and screwed it down. “Now it says ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ And it also says that you can’t eat part of a live animal. So that would seem to exclude the eating of flesh. Now I know it also says the kinds of animals you can eat – those with a cloven hoof and that chew the cud, but I figure that’s for the mass of people who haven’t got the strength of their own convictions. It’s a kind of sop – for those who still hankered after the fleshpots of Egypt. Couldn’t get it out of their systems, you might say. So He allowed them to eat certain kinds of animals. But you can see He’d like it better if they didn’t eat any.”

“I see.”

“There was another time when I was really sort of perplexed, and I got a message from Him. That was the time my oldest boy –”

The rabbi asked how many children Mr. Carter had.

“I got five, three boys and two girls. Moses, he’s my oldest. Maybe you heard of him. Moose Carter? They call him Moose, he’s so big. He was quite a football player at the high school last year and year before. Last year they came that close to winning the state championship. My boy’s picture was in the papers a lot. There was sixty-seven colleges. Rabbi, sixty-seven that was interested in having my boy go there.”

The rabbi showed he was impressed. “Was he also a good student?”

“No. just a good football player. They sent people down to see him, some of them did. Coaches or scouts. And they offered all kinds of things. Why, one offered girls.”

“Girls?”

“That’s right. He said that they had a lot of co-eds that were pretty and rich and just aching to marry a great big handsome football hero. Then he says, and he winks, ‘Or you don’t have to marry them.” ordered him from the house. I didn’t want my boy to go to any college and certainly not that one. I wanted him to get a job and go to work. But he finally did take one of those offers – a college in Alabama. I was all for putting my foot down and forbidding him, but his mother was mighty set on his going.”

“And how did it work out?”

The carpenter shook his head dolefully. “He was there till Christmas, till after the football season, then they dropped him. He had hurt his knee, so he wasn’t any use to them anymore, and besides, he was doing poor in his studies. So he came home. He’s been home three months now and hasn’t done a decent week’s work. He works a couple of nights a week in a bowling alley in Lynn, and every now and then he gets an odd job to do, and that gives him a little spending money. I guess my wife gives him a few dollars now and then. She favors him – him being the oldest.” He shook his head. “I’ve suggested to him that he come in with me and learn my trade, but he tells me there’s no money in it, that all the money these days is in wheeling and dealing. Wants to be a promoter. I tell you. Rabbi, the college ruined that boy. If it weren’t for my wife. I’d order him from the house.”

He straightened up and looked about the room. “That’s about all I have here. Rabbi. It took a little longer than I anticipated. I won’t be able to finish today, but don’t you worry. When I undertake a job. I finish it.”

“It’s just as well.” said Rabbi Small, watching him carefully replace the tools in his kit. “I’m expecting a group of young people to be dropping over a little later in the afternoon.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow or Tuesday, depending how my work goes.”

“Fine. Mr. Carter. Whenever you have the time.”

Chapter Sixteen

“So then he says. ‘I’m going to pass out copies of the new committees. I’ll ask you to take these sheets home with you so that you can study them at your leisure, and then at the next meeting three weeks hence we can vote intelligently on confirmation.’ ” Malcolm Marks had been unconsciously mimicking the president. Now he resumed his normal tone. “And he passes out these mimeographed sheets, and I’m watching Meyer Paff. He’s got his on the table in front of him, and he’s reading the lists, sliding his finger on the page down the list and kind of making noises in his throat like he’s pronouncing the names. And then he gets to Roger Epstein’s name as chairman of the Ritual Committee, and I thought he was going to have a heart attack.”

“But why should he be so upset?” asked his wife. “He must have known that Ben Gorfinkle wasn’t going to reappoint him.”

Marks made no attempt to hide his impatience. “Of course not. But Roger Epstein, for God’s sake!”

The telephone rang. “I’ll take it.” called their daughter Betty from another room. And a moment later. “It’s for me.”

“Well, what’s wrong with Roger Epstein?”

“With Roger Epstein as a person, maybe nothing. In fact, he’s a very idealistic type who carries the whole world on his shoulders. But this is the Ritual Committee. You take the Building Fund Committee or the Membership Committee or even the High Holy Day Seating Committee, which all are important committees. Okay, Roger’s fine and dandy. But strictly speaking, for the Ritual you should have not only a real pious type, I mean one who don’t work on Saturdays and eats strictly kosher, but somebody who knows all about the rules of ritual. He’s got to be practically a rabbi, strictly speaking. All right, we don’t have too many like that. Maybe Jake Wasserman, but offhand I can’t think of anybody else to speak of.”

“So if nobody can do it, what’s wrong with Roger Epstein?”

“Well, it’s not exactly that nobody can do it. The point I’m making is that if you haven’t got the type person who should be chairman of Ritual, you got to at least get somebody who, on the surface at least, seems okay. Now,

Meyer Paff, maybe he doesn’t know so much, but he keeps a kosher house –”

“Pooh! That’s only because his mother-in-law lives with them, and she wouldn’t eat there if they didn’t have two sets of dishes. He couldn’t let her starve to death, could he?”

“That’s what I’m saying. It don’t matter if he really believes in it, so long as he does it. That’s what I mean by on the surface.”

“All right. So what happened?” his wife asked. “What do you mean?”

“When Paff saw that Roger Epstein was made chairman of the Ritual Committee. What happened already? What did he do? What did he say?”

“Nothing!” said her husband triumphantly.

She looked at him in amazement. “So what’s the big shpiel? What’s the excitement?”

“Don’t you see? Paff has been the big wheel in the temple ever since it was built. He’s never been president, but he’s always been a power behind the throne. So Friday night Ted Brennerman gives him a ribbing right out in public. And don’t tell me that Gorfinkle didn’t know what Ted was planning. And from what I hear – we were down in the vestry at the time, so we missed it – Paff catches Ted up in the sanctuary, and he really lays him out in lavender. That’s round one.” He rotated a hand. “Mezzo, mezzo. Call it a draw; Paff gave it to Ted a lot harder than Ted gave it to him, but on the other hand, only a few people heard Paff, and everybody heard Ted. Yeah, I guess you could call it a draw.

“All right, round two. Gorfinkle doesn’t let it lay; he comes out fighting. He says like, ‘Make your play, Paff. Go for your gun. I’m not afraid of you. And I’m proving it by appointing my friend Roger Epstein to be chairman of Ritual, which not only you used to be chairman of and which, moreover, is a very special job that I wouldn’t normally appoint Epstein to on account of his background, but I’m doing it right now, the first chance I got after Friday, just to show you who’s boss. So put up or shut up.’”

“So he shut up.”

“Not Meyer Paff. He don’t give up that easy, and he don’t back away from a fight. He just gets on his bicycle and goes in for a little fancy footwork to keep out of the way of Gorfinkle’s reach so he can save his strength for the next round. The talk after the meeting was that he would line up his gang and either try to take over the town or bum it down.”

“What do you mean bum it down? You mean he’d bum the temple?”

“Of course not. That’s what they call a figure of speech.” he said loftily. Then he lowered his voice. “Some people I talked to said they wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out of the temple and started one of his own.”

“Over appointing Roger Epstein head of the Ritual Committee?”

“That and other things.” said Marks defensively. “This thing has been building a long time.”

She looked at him. “So where does that leave you?”

“That’s just it. I’m like betwixt and between. I was appointed by Schwarz, and I got another year to go on my term. Ben Gorfinkle and Roger Epstein and the rest I’m kind of friendly with, but on the other hand. I’m friendly with Meyer Paff s gang, too. After all, if God forbid somebody needed an operation, we’d call Doc Edelstein, wouldn’t we? So I can go either way. And my guess is both sides will be pulling for my vote.”

Their daughter. Betty, sauntered into the room. She was short like both her parents. Her long blond hair was parted on one side and hung straight down over her shoulders, although one strand was looped over her ear with a barrette and pushed forward to partially conceal her left eye. Where the hair was parted, one could see a trace of dark hair, suggesting it was time for another color rinse. Her innocent dark eyes were made knowing with eye shadow and a thin line of darker coloring that edged the lids. Her breasts pushed aggressively against her sweater, and her little rump rotated suggestively as she walked.

Her mother looked up in automatic question.

BOOK: Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home
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