Day of Atonement

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.”