The Big Nap (19 page)

“Wait!” she said, and hurried back around the counter. She quickly checked out her customers, virtually chasing out one or two who were lingering in the aisles. Then she locked the door and turned the closed sign around.

“Come! To the back!” Nettie motioned me toward the
storeroom. I wheeled Isaac’s stroller through the narrow doorway and she shut the door behind us.

“Now. Tell me.”

“First of all, you tell
me.
I take it Fraydle hasn’t come home.”

Nettie shook her head, her wig jiggling back and forth with the motion.

“Has Rabbi Finkelstein called the police?”

“Not yet. If she’s not home by
Shabbos
, he will. That’s what Sima says. She says they must call by Friday afternoon.”

“Nettie, today is only Sunday. Friday is a long way off.”

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to him again today. I’ll try to convince him to call.”

“Good.”

“Juliet, did you see the Hirsches? Have they heard from Fraydle?”

“I met Esther Hirsch, and I’m pretty confident that she doesn’t know anything about Fraydle’s disappearance. I also met her brothers and, frankly, they are a couple of nasty guys. And I met Ari. That’s what I want to talk to you about, Nettie. Did Fraydle ever tell you anything about Ari?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did she ever tell you she didn’t want to go through with the marriage?”

“At the beginning, yes. She didn’t even want to meet Ari Hirsch. I was worried she would reject him like she did the others.”

“And she didn’t?”

Nettie paused. “No, not really. I remember she asked her father if she had to marry. She asked him about the match and he told her how important it was for the family. And
then she agreed to meet the boy. After they’d met a few times, she agreed to marry him.”

I didn’t want to give away Ari’s secret to Fraydle’s family. On the other hand, it seemed that Nettie was Fraydle’s closest confidante.

“Nettie, did Fraydle ever confide in you any concerns she had about Ari? About his . . . um . . . his suitability as a husband?”

She paused and looked at me. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I heard some rumors about Ari. Rumors that he might be gay.”

“Gay?” she asked, confused.

“Homosexual.”

“
Oy yoy yoy
!” Nettie exclaimed. “That is what she was talking about!”

“What? Did she say something to you?”

“She asked me what it meant for a man to lie with another man like it says in the
Tanach.
She asked me if it was true that some men had feelings for other men. She asked me if I knew men like this.”

I leaned forward eagerly. “And what did you tell her?” I asked.

“I told her that sometimes men are like this, but that it is an abomination in the eyes of God.”

She said the last so matter-of-factly.

“What did Fraydle say to that?” I asked.

“She asked me if those feelings were permanent, or if a man like that could become normal if he chose to.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“Well, I thought maybe she saw something, or maybe she heard someone talking, maybe one of the young boys. So I told her that I had heard that sometimes the yeshiva
buchers
did things like that, but that it was very wicked. I told her that grown men, married men, never did that. I told her that as soon as they married, all that stopped.”

I looked into Nettie’s face. She looked almost defiant. “Nettie, do you really believe that?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Why should a young, innocent girl hear about such things? Why shouldn’t I reassure her?”

“Well, Nettie, do you really think she would be happy in a marriage to a homosexual man?”

“Why not? If he was a good father, and a good husband? If he could give her children? What difference does it make what he feels in his heart, as long as he follows the law?”

Never before had I felt the gulf between Nettie and me so deeply. Our beliefs were completely at odds. There was no point in arguing over this issue.

“Did you tell Fraydle’s parents about your conversation?”

“No! Of course not. The girl confided in me. I wouldn’t tell. Anyway, I had no idea she was talking about Ari. I’m telling you, I thought she maybe saw something or heard something,” Nettie said.

I left the store, puzzling over what I’d learned. I had confirmed what Ari had told me. He’d been honest with Fraydle and she’d been reassured by her aunt. Fraydle had agreed to the match and made peace with it. So why had she disappeared? What had happened to her?

R
UBY
and Peter were waiting for us when Isaac and I got home. I fed the baby and, when he fell asleep, carefully transferred him from my arms to his bassinet, holding my breath, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t rouse. For a moment it looked like he was about to wake up, but with a grunt and a wiggle, he settled himself back to sleep.

Peter and Ruby were in the living room, playing a game called Newborn Babies. It consisted entirely of the pair of them wailing like infants.

“Mama! Let’s pretend you’re the mommy and I’m the baby!” Ruby shouted when I walked in the room.

“You know what, kiddo? I
am
the mommy. It’s not really very much fun to pretend to be what you already are.”

My daughter looked at me, puzzled, and, with a shrug of her shoulders, turned back to her father.

“Daddy, you be the daddy, and I’ll be the newborn baby.”

“Okay,” Peter said. “Newborn baby, it’s time to sleep.” She collapsed on the ground and he tucked one of Isaac’s blankets around her. “Night-night, newborn baby,” he said.

“Waaaa,” she wailed softly, and then began to pretend-snore.

Peter and I settled back on the couch and I nestled my head against his shoulder.

“What did the aunt have to say?” he asked.

I told him about Fraydle’s conversation with Nettie. “I’d like to know if Yossi knew about this,” I said.

“What difference would that make?” Peter asked. “Even if he knew, that doesn’t put you any closer to finding out if he or anyone else did her harm.”

“It’s possible that she confided in Yossi and that he convinced her that her aunt was wrong.”

“But then wouldn’t she have gone away with him? Why would he still be hanging around L.A.?”

“True. And he did have those plane tickets to Israel that they never used. Still, I want to talk to him again.”

“Call him.”

“I will. In a minute.” I snuggled up to my husband again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he said, kissing me. Suddenly, thirty pounds of outrage landed in our laps.

“Hey! Stop it!” Ruby shouted, wriggling her way in between us. She held up her face to her father. “Kiss me instead!”

Peter kissed her on the nose. “You know, I’m allowed to kiss
both
my girls.” He leaned over the top of her head and kissed my nose, too.

Ruby placed a hand on either side of his face and kissed him, over and over again. “This is
my
daddy,” she said.

“Okay, Baby Electra.” I hoisted myself off the couch. “I’m going to make some phone calls.”

Yossi was home when I called. When I told him I had news about Fraydle he agreed to let me come over. I left Peter with the kids and headed out the door. I considered the nightmare of parking on Melrose Avenue—especially on the weekend when all the kids from the Valley pour into the city in their SUVs to buy platform shoes and artfully torn jeans and get their tongues, lips, navels, and other parts punctured—and decided to walk the half-mile or so to Yossi’s house.

Without my stroller or a jogging suit as an excuse, I stuck out like a sore thumb as I marched up La Brea. I walked by Nettie’s store without even glancing in and made it to Melrose in no time at all. It was a bit tougher going on the trendy avenue itself, as I had to keep dodging giggling clumps of teenage girls and whizzing herds of skateboarders. After staring at what seemed like three million bared midriffs, I had just about decided that I was the fattest person in the Los Angeles basin when two Harley Davidsons roared by, piloted by a pair of massive women with long hair streaming out of tiny pink helmets. Who knew they made leather clothes that big?

Those women obviously looked and felt gorgeous. There they were, tricked out in their leather pants, squealing down Melrose Avenue, wordlessly shouting,
We’re here, we’re gigantic, get used to it!
And there I was, a few pounds overweight, skulking down the same avenue, wordlessly shouting,
I’m fat, I’m ugly, ignore me!
What was wrong with this picture? I had a husband who loved
me—belly, thighs, and all. My body had just produced and was giving sustenance to a big, healthy baby boy. Why wasn’t I able to feel better about myself?

I thought about my little daughter, with her gorgeous potbelly and lovely soft skin. If I didn’t get over this obsession with my weight, and soon, my contagion would spread to her. The last thing I wanted was for her to be one of those pathetic eight-year-olds, complaining about their weight and guzzling Diet Coke.

In the midst of this reverie, I arrived at Yossi’s building. I walked into the courtyard which, on that sunny Sunday afternoon, was populated with the tenants of the apartments, lounging in their deck chairs and sitting on the edge of the fountain. Rap music blared from a speaker propped in an open window. Yossi’s door was open and he stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. He was smoking a cigarette and wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. His feet were bare and his jeans looked at though they hadn’t been washed in a while.

I walked across the courtyard, followed by the curious gazes of his neighbors. At thirty-three I was probably the oldest person there. Yossi lifted his hand in a halfhearted gesture of welcome and, with a nod at me to follow, turned back into his apartment. I walked in and shut the door behind me.

The entire apartment was one large room, with a kitchenette at one end.

“Please, sit down,” Yossi said, pointing at a futon-bed covered with an unsavory looking Indian print bedspread. “Can I get you some coffee? All I have is café
botz.
”

“
Botz
?” I asked, perching on the very edge of the bed.

“Mud. Like Turkish coffee. In Hebrew we call it mud coffee.”

Delicious. “Oh. Sure, mud sounds great.”

He walked into the little kitchenette, and I watched as he scooped what I looked more like dirt than mud into two coffee mugs and poured in boiling water. He added two heaping teaspoons of sugar to each cup and gave them a brisk stir. Handing me my mug, he said, “Let it sit for a minute so your mouth doesn’t get full of grounds.”

Even more delicious.

He pulled a folding chair away from the card table that stood against the far wall of the room and sat down backwards in the chair, his legs straddling the seat and his arms leaning on the back.

“Did you find Fraydle?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t find her. I did find out some things, though.”

“What? What did you find out?”

“I found out that she was going to marry Ari Hirsch.”

“I told you that,” he said. “I told you that she decided to be a good girl and do what her father told her.”

“I also found out that Ari Hirsch may be gay.”

“Gay? Like a
faygeleh
?”

I winced. “Gay like homosexual, yes.” I took a sip of the hot, sweet coffee. It
was
delicious.

“She can’t marry him now! She’ll never marry him when she hears about this!” he crowed.

“She knows.”

“What do you mean? She knows? But you said you didn’t find her. Did she find out before? Oh my God, is that why she is gone? Did she find out about him and he did something to her?”

“I don’t know, Yossi. But I don’t think so. Ari says that they discussed it and decided to go forward with the marriage, anyway.”

“What are you talking about? That is ridiculous.” He stood up and pushed the chair away. It fell to the floor with a crash and he angrily righted it. “Why would she marry a
faygeleh
? She would not want a pretend marriage—a life without sex.”

“I don’t know, Yossi. Maybe she thought that once Ari was married he would change. I take it that you don’t know anything about this. Fraydle never told you about Ari?”

“No! Of course not! If I knew about this do you think she would be missing? I would never have let her go forward with this marriage. I would have taken her away!” He seemed to realize what he had just said. “I didn’t do anything!” he bellowed, and then let loose a stream of Hebrew.

Suddenly, he rushed over to me. “You!” he said, grabbing my arm and dragging me roughly to my feet. “I don’t need you here in my house, accusing me of this. You get out! Get out!” He shoved me toward the door. I scooped up my purse with one hand and shook off his arm with the other.

“I’m leaving,” I said, in as dignified a tone as I could muster. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Yossi. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this. All I want is to find Fraydle. Isn’t that what you want, too?” He looked at me angrily, and then his shoulders sagged and he slumped, defeated.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“I’m going now.”

He nodded and let go of my arm.

“You have my number, right?”

He nodded again.

“You’ll call me if you hear anything.”

He nodded a third time.

I strode out the door and shut it firmly behind me. I
stood in the courtyard for a minute, taking a breath to quiet my racing heart. I sure was getting good at pissing people off. Oh, let’s be honest; I’ve always possessed that particular quality in spades.

A voice rang out from above. “Hello! Juliet!”

I looked up, and saw Anat, the waitress from Nomi’s. She waved at me and shouted, “One minute! I’ll come down.”

She ran down the stairs.

“Have you found her? Yossi’s girlfriend?”

“No.” I shook my head. I glanced back to Yossi’s door to make sure it was still closed. “Anat, did you remember anything more about her, about them?” I asked, not particularly hopefully.

“Maybe,” she said, in a conspiratorial whisper. “You want to get a cup of coffee? We can talk.”