Joshua: A Brooklyn Tale (44 page)

“I read about that,” Hannah said. “I didn’t realize it was you, though.”

“Yes,” he answered. “Anyway,” he continued, “I suppose that some of my old friends in this community weren’t very happy with me for having done that.”

Hannah: “I don’t know about other people, but I can assure you that the rabbi never said anything derogatory to me about it. Come to think of it, I don’t recall his having mentioned it at all. Do you, Rachel?”

Rachel: “No.”

Joshua: “Well, that’s good to hear, because my intention was only to help my client. You folks were always kind to me, and I was concerned about how you felt.”

Hannah: “There’s no need for you to be concerned. I’m sure the rabbi was proud of how you turned out, even if he only played a small role in it.

Joshua: “He actually played a large role. He gave me a break, got me a job when I needed one and no one else would hire me, and he didn’t even know me.”

Hannah: “Well you paid him back tenfold with what you did for Rachel when those hoodlums attacked her and Esther.”

Rachel feigned a smile as her mother looked in her direction.

“The reason I’m here tonight,” he said, “is because another case has been offered to me and I would like to know what you think before I decide whether to take it. Your opinions are important to me.”

“And what case is that?” Rachel asked, almost as if she were alone with him. Her mother looked at her strangely.

He swallowed hard and uttered the name, “Larry Pilgrim.”

Rachel and Hannah looked at one another, both wondering if they’d heard correctly.

Hannah: “The man who killed Rabbi Turner?”

Joshua: “I didn’t know he was a rabbi.”

Rachel: “Most people didn’t. He was a humble man who worked as a mechanic; as far as everyone knew, that’s all he was. But when a man dies, you learn the truth, things you never knew before.”

Joshua hadn’t read anything in the press about Turner having been a rabbi. Strangely, the new information made a difference. He knew it shouldn’t have—a human being is a human being and all that—but it did. Isaac Weissman, a rabbi, had been his friend.

He could see Hannah’s disappointment, while Rachel’s face remained barren. It ate at him; he would have preferred being chided.

“I’m not sure what you want from us, Joshua,” Hannah said.

“I’m not, either,” he responded.

Hannah: “I understand you have to do your job, but this is so…” She couldn’t finish her own sentence.

“Ugly,” Rachel added, making no eye contact with him.

The word pierced him like a dagger, right into his gut. He stared at her, hoping she would glance back, but nothing. “I suppose I wanted to hear it was okay,” he confessed.

“And why is that important?” Hannah asked.

“Because I respected the rabbi, I respect both of you, and your feelings mean a lot to me.”

“It sounds to me like you’re looking for absolution,” Hannah said. “In our religion, absolution comes only from God, and from doing the right thing. I believe my husband would have told you the same thing had he been here.”

“I suppose so,” Joshua said wearily, realizing this was as far as he was going to get. He rose to his feet. “I’m sorry I bothered you so late at night.”

“No bother, it was good to see you,” Hannah said, also rising.

Rachel remained seated, lost in some place he couldn’t get to.

“Well, thank you both for seeing me.”

“You are welcome always,” Hannah said, as she escorted him to the door.

Rachel remained in the living room.

He stepped into the hall. “Thank you again, and good-night.”

“Good-night, Joshua, and may God help you find the answers you seek.”

It was two o’clock in the morning. Loretta was asleep in her bedroom, and Joshua, unable to sleep, was up watching late night TV in the living room, trying to rest his mind. The doorbell rang, followed by a loud knock. He knew who it was.

He responded quickly, hoping Loretta hadn’t been awakened. He barely had the door halfway open, when it came crashing into him. Then, a slap, hard and mighty, threw him off balance, as he heard the words: “
How
dare
you
!”

She walked past him, straight into the living room. At this point, he was certain his mother was awake, and equally certain she would remain in her room, pretending not to be. He used his hand to sooth the sting on his face, and looked at Rachel. He wasn’t angry with her; he knew he had no right to be.

“How could you do that to me?” she exclaimed.

“I was wrong, I shouldn’t have…”

“
Shouldn’t
have
! Whatever were you thinking?”

“That’s just it, I wasn’t thinking.”

She looked at him, seething.

“How did you get here this time of night?” he asked.

“I walked, rather
ran
.”

“But the streets…”

“The streets are perfectly safe, safer than ever. Since Rabbi Turner’s murder, they’ve formed community patrols. They’re all over the place.”

“Who’s
they
?”

“Who do you think?”

“The Lubavitchers?”

“That’s right. No more relying on the police. It was never a good idea for a Jew to depend on the
Czar’s
protection in the first place. It just took us a while to figure that out here.”

“Oh boy!”

“Oh boy
what
?”

“It’s going to cause trouble. Hasidic community patrols in a seventy percent black neighborhood isn’t going to go over very well.”

She considered his point.

He looked at her. “I’m sorry I came to your home. It was probably the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done.”

“
Probably
!”

“There’s no excuse.”

“But I’ll just bet there’s an explanation.”

“Well,” he said hesitantly, “there is, if you want to hear it.”

“I’m dying to.” Sarcasm.

“I needed to run this by you tonight; they want an answer tomorrow morning.”

“And I suppose it has something to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you; with
us
.”

“
Us
,” she repeated, “I don’t even know what that means after tonight.”

“That’s good because I didn’t know what it meant before tonight.”

“So that’s what this whole thing is about, isn’t it? You had an opportunity to test the waters, to see just how far you could come into my life, and you decided,
what
the
hell,
why
not?
I
can’t
stand
her
silly
little
rules
anyway
!”

He realized she was right: he had been motivated by more than simply getting her approval for the Larry Pilgrim case. He had used the case for another agenda, and why not; why not go to her home, have her mother see them together, and bring the whole damn thing out into the open at last?

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she continued.

“I did want to know how you felt about me taking this case.”

“I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you’re clever enough to have found a way to get in touch with me without involving my mother. But you
wanted
to involve my mother, didn’t you?”

“I suppose,” he confessed, “it’s possible I got carried away with things…”

“
Carried
away
! That’s an understatement.”

“Look Rachel, I’m sorry if I hurt you; that’s the
last
thing I’d ever want to do, believe it or not. And maybe you’re right, maybe I am tired of all your restrictions, but one thing I’m not, is ashamed. I am not now, nor will I ever be,
ashamed
of having gone to your home. If you can’t understand and accept that, then there really is no
us
.”

She was taken aback. Her expression changed. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s okay.” He was visibly shaken.

“It isn’t. I haven’t been fair with you; I haven’t been fair with
us
.”

“It’s not about being fair, it’s about surviving.”

“Thank you for trying to get me off the hook, Joshua, but I can take responsibility for this. I’m a grown up.”

“And what about the Larry Pilgrim thing?”

“You’re a grown up too. You don’t need my permission.”

“You’re absolutely right. I don’t
need
your permission, but I do need to know your feelings.”

“I think you should take the case.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. You should take it.”

“But why?”

“
Why
?” She thought for a moment. “Well, for starters, I believe it’s what you really want, and that I’m the only thing standing in the way. I don’t want you to sacrifice for me, or to deprive yourself any more than you already have.” She reached over, placed her hand on his cheek. “You see, I know what it is to sacrifice, to give up the things you truly want in life. We’ve both had enough of that, and it has to stop sometime.” She moved closer, touched up against him, stood on her toes, and kissed him gently on the cheek. “I want you to take the case.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said.

“You don’t think
what’s
a good idea?”

“Taking the case.”

She was puzzled. “Joshua, I don’t underst…”

“Listen, this may sound crazy, and it probably is, but I can’t take the Pilgrim case. Maybe I knew it all along, or maybe I just figured it out. Either way, it’s a bad idea.”

“But why?”

“Because it would destroy us.”

She shook her head in defiance.

“
It
would
, regardless of what you think now. I know you want to believe that we’re invincible, and it’s true, we have survived some pretty nasty things together.
This
would break us.”

“It wouldn’t! Nothing can!”

“It
can
and it
would
! Listen, this Pilgrim thing is bad, a lot worse than you can imagine. It’s not going to be about that rabbi and this black guy. It’s going to be about race, about tensions and hatreds that have been festering for years, just waiting for a moment like this. It’s going to blow up in our faces, and whether I take the case or not, it’s going to drive a wedge between us.”

“But this isn’t about race, Joshua, it’s about murder. No one condones murder, black or white.”

“Rachel,
everything
is about race.”

He was surprised he’d actually said that, but once he had, he realized it was what he truly believed.

He searched her face, wondering if she could see the yearning in his eyes. He reached over and stroked her cheek. She moved closer and embraced him. It felt more intimate than anything they’d shared before, yet still not quite what he had dreamed of.

CHAPTER 48
 

Hannah Weissman, still half asleep, stumbled into her kitchen for her morning coffee and found Rachel sitting at the table, engrossed in the newspaper. “Good morning,” Rachel said, her eyes on the paper.

“Good morning,” Hannah answered. “You’re up early today.”

Rachel glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was seven-fifteen. She had thought it was much later. “You’re right, I didn’t realize.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I slept fine.”

“That’s funny, I thought I heard you sneaking around in the middle of the night, thought I even heard you go out.”

Rachel looked aghast at her mother, and found herself tongue-tied.

“You went to see him, didn’t you?”

“See who?” Rachel asked defensively.

Hannah sat down at the table, looked Rachel in the eye, and said, “Joshua,” as she took her first sip of coffee.

Rachel, stupefied, stared at her mother for a beat, then said, “How did you know?”

“I’ve known for a long time that there had to be someone; rather, I’ve suspected. You don’t go out on
shiddoch
dates, you often come home late at night, it doesn’t take a genius. So when Joshua showed up here last night; well, I put two and two together and came up with, whatever.”

Rachel wondered how she could possibly have this conversation with her mother. “It’s not what you think,” she said.

“Oh,” Hannah reacted. “And what exactly is it that I’m thinking?”

“We’re friends, good friends. That’s it.”

“Friends, that’s interesting. So why such a big secret?”

“Because…” Rachel stopped herself and thought about what she was going to say. “No one would understand, that’s why.”

“Understand? I think I understand plenty.”

“You’re not making this easy.”

“
You
didn’t make it easy. All these years, this
friendship
, keeping it from me, your father. Did you also keep it from your husband, this
friendship
?”

“Binny knew that Joshua was my friend, Joshua was at my wedding, remember?” Snide.

“I remember many things, Rucheleh,
many
things. My mind works perfectly well; too well, I’m afraid. It’s my heart that I’m worried about.”

“Mama.”

“Don’t worry, Rucheleh. You’re a big girl now, divorced and all. You can make your own decisions. I always knew you were somehow different from the other girls, you and Esther. I always knew we wouldn’t be able to keep you. I tried to tell your father, but he wouldn’t listen. Not
you
, not his little precious Rucheleh. ‘She will bear rabbis and scholars,’ he used to say. Not quite, I’m afraid.”

Rachel watched as her mother drifted off to another place, distant and unreachable. “Mama,” she said again.

“It’s okay.”

“Mama, nothing has happened between Joshua and me. It’s really not what you’re thinking. Yes, we’re something more than friends, and yes, we love each other. But we have an understanding; we’ve always had an understanding. We’re from different worlds, and we respect that in one another. There have always been lines that neither of us would ever cross.”

“Until last night.”

“Last night was a mistake.”

“Last night was a sign!”

Rachel didn’t respond.

“Don’t you see how naive you are? How can you possibly expect a man to love you without insisting on being with you?”

“I know.” Reluctant. “It’s hard for him; it’s also hard for me. But we both see everything that’s going on these days, and we really have no choice.”

“And how long will
this
understanding last?”

Rachel considered her mother’s point. “Tell me, Mama, what is it that upsets you most, that he’s black, or that he’s not Jewish?”

“Oh please, Rucheleh, what kind of question is that?”

“One to which I’d like an answer.”

“I don’t know the answer. Neither is wonderful.”

“Well, let me ask you this: what if he was to convert?”

“Then God would accept him. But I can assure you, the community wouldn’t, especially today.”

“
Who
cares
about
the
community
?”

“I do, your father did, and you should.”

“People convert all the time; blacks have converted.”

“And everybody laughs at them, thinking they’re crazy, saying things like,
he
doesn’t
have
a
hard
enough
time
being
black,
he
needs
to
be
Jewish
too
! They’re scoffed at and ostracized, and you know it. And what do you think happens to their children?”

Rachel realized she couldn’t argue with that. “I know, Mama, that’s why it could never happen. Joshua is too proud of what he is to become anything else, and I suppose I’m…” She hesitated, then concluded: “I’m just too weak.”

Hannah watched as tears fell from Rachel’s eyes. She wanted to reach out to comfort her daughter and tell her that everything would be okay. But she couldn’t; it wouldn’t.

“So I guess you have nothing to worry about, Mama, nothing at all.”

Paul Sims sat still, waiting for Rav Schachter to start the meeting. Being summoned was a distinct privilege, a sign he was gaining prominence with the elder. He tried to hide his curiosity.

“Well, Reb Pinchas, how have you been these days?”

“
Baruch
Hashem
, thank God. And how has the Rav been?”

“Good, good, except for the recent crisis, of course.” Schachter was referring to the killing of Israel Turner.

“Yes, a tragedy.”

“There are terrible things happening in the world around us, and we must protect ourselves.”

“Yes, we must. I think it is great that we have set up our own patrols. The streets will be safer.” Paul knew that Schachter was one of the driving forces behind the establishment of the community patrols.

“Have you joined the patrols?”

“No,” Paul answered, embarrassed. “Not yet.”

“Your participation would be most welcomed, and invaluable.”

“I have been planning to join.”
What
does
he
really
want?

“Good.” Schachter stared into space.

“Is there some specific reason for which the Rav has requested my presence?” In the past, Paul would have waited for Schachter to get around to it. He was feeling a bit more brazen these days.

“Yes, now that you mention it,” Schachter responded. He hesitated, seeming to gather his thoughts. With him, it was always a chess game. “In addition to the patrols,” he continued, “there are other ways in which we must fight to save our sacred corner of the world, ways in which a man in your position could be quite helpful.”

Paul feigned curiosity, but had a sense of where this was going.

“It is my understanding that your father owns some considerable property in our neighborhood, and that you personally manage this property.”

“Yes, he has three buildings, all of which I manage for him. He tried to sell them years ago, but the offers were meager.”

“So he has decided not to sell?”

“For now. With my father, one never knows, but I don’t think he’s looking to put me out of work, or to have me go and work with him on the Island. By keeping the buildings, he gives me something to do, and keeps me away from his main business. I’m sort of an embarrassment to him, I suppose.”

“It is terrible, the way these assimilated parents treat their children who come into our midst.”

“Yes, it hurts to think about it,” Paul said, realizing that Schachter was coaxing him. He was beginning to find their dialogue amusing.

“Anyway, I have a proposition for you.”

Paul realized it was now payback time for the elder’s assistance with his father when he married Chava.

“I understand that most of the tenants of your buildings are
shvartzes
,” Schachter said.

Paul nodded, hiding his distaste for that particular term.

“Would you like to change that?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Paul responded hesitantly. “But it isn’t realistic, considering the neighborhood.”

“That is something we must change too, but first things first.”

Normally, Paul would have dismissed such talk, but not when it came from Rav Schachter. Schachter was a man of power and influence, and everything he said was to be taken seriously. “Does the Rav have an idea in mind?” Paul asked.

“Yes, I do. I do
indeed
.” Schachter hesitated before continuing, hoping to heighten Paul’s curiosity, though unbeknownst to him, Paul already had an idea of what he was about to say. It was unusual for a man of Schachter’s intellect to underestimate someone, and Paul enjoyed being that someone. The elder continued, “It is simple, and perfectly legal, I might add.”

Paul nodded respectfully, but wasn’t convinced.

“When an apartment becomes available,” Schachter continued, “you tell us, and you rent it only to one of our own. It might take years, but we do have to think in terms of the future. In the end, the values of the buildings go up. Everyone’s happy.”

Everyone,
except
the
blacks
, Paul thought. “And what if someone finds out? I think it
is
against the law.” Paul was uncomfortable challenging Schachter, but he didn’t like the plan. He hadn’t forgotten Loretta, the woman who had raised him and loved him more than his own mother.

“No one will find out, I assure you. The
schvartzes
are stupid, you know that. They’ll never catch on to this.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with my father.” Paul knew his father would never go for it, not because Alfred loved blacks, but because Alfred wouldn’t do anything to endanger his business or his reputation. At least nothing so blatant as this.

“If you must,” Schachter responded, wearing his disappointment. He had hoped to make a secret deal with Paul, not involving Alfred.

Paul felt a tinge of relief, he had found an out, if only temporarily. He knew, however, that Schachter wouldn’t fold so easily.

“There is one other thing,” the rabbi said.

“Yes?”

“Another possible way for you to help our sacred cause.”

“I would be honored to do what I can.”

“I am starting a group whose job is to compel local real estate brokers to arrange things so that we get first opportunity at any homes that come up for sale. The group will also visit with black homeowners in the immediate area to persuade them into selling their homes to us. Would you be interested in joining, perhaps even leading, this group?”

Paul didn’t like this idea any better, but felt he couldn’t refuse Schachter again. To his mind, it would be the lesser of two evils. “If the Rav believes I could be of service, I would be glad to.”

“Good. Excellent.”

“May I ask one question?”

Schachter nodded.

“How will this group be effective?”

“With money, of course.”

“Whose money?” Paul asked.

“Not yours, so don’t worry. I will raise the money, it will not be a problem.”

Paul appeared uncomfortable.

“Please, Reb Pinchas, don’t worry so much. There will be no violence, only financial negotiations. We will offer generous incentives if need be, whatever is required. We have no choice but to do this, no choice but to succeed. In addition to the crime problem, our families are growing in leaps and bounds. We have an influx of brethren from all over the world who need to live close to the
Rebbe
, within walking distance of the synagogue, and we have a shortage of housing. The situation will soon get out of hand if we don’t act. The
shvartzes
can live anywhere, and with God’s help, as far away from us as possible!”

Paul understood that there was no “we.” The elder would work behind the scenes, command the troops from his study, but never actually get his hands dirty. And dirty was the word, for blockbusting was a dirty business and Paul was to be smack in the middle of it. Payback time, indeed.