Tuesday The Rabbi Saw Red (28 page)

“Hello. Rabbi.” said the guard, and drew the door of the room closed behind him.

“His boy was one of those I tutored in the summer and managed to get in.” said Fine. “Nice kid.”

“I heard of your program.” said the rabbi. “That took considerable courage, I imagine.”

“Not courage. Rabbi; concern.” He flung himself into the seat and hooked his cane on the edge of the nearby table, he seemed thinner than when the rabbi had last seen him, and his face was drawn.

“And how has it worked out?” asked the rabbi. “The ones you tutored, have they done well?”

Fine shrugged. “Some worked out all right; some not so good. You’ve been hobnobbing with the Establishment. What do they say about it?”

The rabbi laughed shortly. “I certainly wouldn’t call it hobnobbing – an occasional coffee in the cafeteria, and I didn’t realize they were the Establishment, just some of the older members of the faculty. But I gathered from them that the group you were tutoring hadn’t had college preparatory training, that they were from Roxbury., and most of them had been out of school for several years.”

“What of it?” demanded Fine. “The experience of making it in the ghetto was ten times more valuable than a course in Latin or algebra in high school.”

“Perhaps so.” said the rabbi, “but that’s not the point, is it? A course in algebra might not be very useful in the ghetto, but it’s probably necessary preparation for college physics or chemistry.”

“Well, that’s why we were tutoring them during the summer.” said Fine heatedly.

“But how much could you hope to accomplish? If you could cover several years of college prep work in a couple of months, then our secondary school system is a fraud. If not, your tutoring project would be a fraud intended only to gain them admittance to a course of study they couldn’t possible pursue.”

“What of it?”

“What of it?” the rabbi echoed.

“Sure, what of it?” Fine laughed scornfully. “What sort of place do you think Windemere is? Or any college? It’s a fossilized institution like – like the electoral college, or the British monarchy, or the House of Lords, the college today is simply an institution for maintaining a plutocratic class structure. It’s intended for…” his voice trailed off as he saw his visitor’s gaze fixed beside him, he turned and, following the rabbi’s gaze, saw a cockroach scuttling along, he knocked it down with his cane and then calmly stepped on it. “It’s not the Ritz, but it’s free.” He laughed. “That’s one of the things they say here. Not very funny, but it keeps their spirits up, I suppose.”

The rabbi nodded and then, after a suitable pause, continued. “It’s curious. Professor Hendryx also thought the college was no longer for the purpose of educating young people. But he thought its present function was to subsidize college professors.”

“He would,” said Fine. “But if you examine its effect on society, you see all college does is to divide the sheep from the goats, the white collars from the blue.”

“I’m surprised you’re willing to be a party to it then,” said the rabbi pleasantly.

“Ah, but there’s a little side-effect maybe the Establishment hadn’t figured on, and that’s why we were in it and were willing to do this summer tutoring thing.”

“And that is?”

“Anyone from the wrong side of the fence who does manage to make it is automatically socially upgraded, there’s no denying college is the main road to social advancement, that’s a fact recognized by all sociologists and most educators.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the same faith in the wisdom of sociologists and educators that you have.”

“But dammit Rabbi –”

“My view is naturally the traditional Jewish one,” he went on imperturbably, “that learning is to be pursued for itself, a college, that is a liberal arts college like Windemere, is a place for those who want to know more than they have acquired in high school. If you change it into a vehicle for social upgrading, as you call it, or into anything too practical, for that matter, it no longer performs its function.”

“You mean you’d limit liberal arts schools just to the smartest kids?”

“Not at all, although I don’t know what you mean by the smartest kids, or how you’d go about selecting them. Marks usually reward the most docile students, those who conform to their teachers’ opinions, there’s nothing competitive about learning, it’s something everyone does for himself alone, a fat man who joins a gym to reduce is not competing with someone who is there to improve his muscle tone, or even with someone else who is there also to reduce. Each is there to satisfy his own needs.”

“So according to you, the only ones who should go to the liberal arts college –”

“Are not the smartest, but those who really want to be there, who want to know more than they do.” said the rabbi.

Fine could barely conceal a slight triumphant smile as he said: “Then why object to our program of bringing blacks into college?”

“I don’t.” said the rabbi, not in the least disconcerted. “For those who want to learn, no objection at all, provided they have the necessary preparation. Because without that, they won’t be able to do the work, just as the fat man in the gym wouldn’t be able to do the work, just as the fat man in the gym wouldn’t be able to take advantage of the physical regimen if he had a serious heart condition, and you won’t be doing them a kindness. Quite the contrary.”

The red-haired young man sat back in his chair and shook his head slowly in wonderment, then he grinned, then he laughed aloud.

“Have I said something funny?” asked the rabbi.

“No; you’re all right. Rabbi. You know, when my lawyer told me you were coming I wondered what for, were you coming to see the condemned man to urge him to confess? To tell the truth. I wasn’t too keen on it, but Winston, that’s my lawyer, seemed to think it was worthwhile, and here we sit in a little room in the city jail and we’re talking – of all things – about educational theory and philosophy. You’ve got to admit. Rabbi, that’s funny.”

The rabbi grinned. “You’re right, it is funny.”

Fine leaned forward. “I’d love to go along with your theory. Rabbi, but the system itself militates against your precious love of learning. Taking courses in a dozen different fields with no continuity, no association, the subject matter forgotten within days after taking the exam – all it does is prevent anyone from getting a decent education. Why, the average graduate can’t write a decent paragraph –”

“And whose fault is that?” the rabbi countered. “You’ve relaxed your standards because you no longer think it’s your function to teach, just to upgrade socially; and you don’t care how it’s done, any way the student gets his pass mark will do, just so long as he gets by.”

Fine eyed the rabbi narrowly. “Is that a general comment. Rabbi, or are you perhaps referring to a little difficulty I had with Hendryx and the dean?”

“I know about it.”

“Oh yes, you shared an office with Hendryx.”

“But he didn’t tell me.” said the rabbi quickly.

“Then who –” Fine shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Tell me.” said the rabbi, “do you happen to know a Kathy Dunlop?”

The atmosphere chilled perceptibly and immediately. “Yes, I know Kathy;” Fine admitted cautiously. “What about her?”

“She came to see me yesterday.”

“And she told you?”

“No, she said nothing about the exam, she wanted to know how a girl would go about getting converted to Judaism. It seems that some friend of hers is in love with a Jewish boy.”

Fine moved in his chair uneasily. “Is that so?”

“Of course,” the rabbi went on, “it was quite obvious she was talking about herself. Preliminary inquiries are quite frequently made that way. Was it you she was thinking of marrying?”

The man remained silent, the rabbi waited, and when it looked as though Fine was not going to speak, he went on. “She said you were lovers.”

Abruptly Fine rose and circled his chair. “Yes,” he said. “I love Kathy. But don’t get the idea that I ever suggested I might divorce my wife to marry her.” He perched on the edge of the table.

“Apparently she had that idea.”

Fine shrugged. “Not with any encouragement from me. I even told her I would never marry anyone but a Jewish girl, and I meant it. Do you believe me?”

The rabbi thought for a moment. “Yes, I believe you.”

“Does it surprise you?”

“No.”

“Well, it surprises me.” He threw himself back in the chair. “It doesn’t make sense to me, but it’s true; it’s how I feel, here I am, modern, enlightened, intellectual, and, in all modesty, even intelligent. My reason tells me that religion, prayer, faith – the whole bit – is a lot of nonsense. I’m sorry, Rabbi, but that’s how I feel, and vet I married a Jewish girl, and wouldn’t marry one who wasn’t. I suppose it’s because it would upset my parents; and yet. I’m not particularly close to them. It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

“It’s not so crazy:” said the rabbi. “I know a Jew who is completely divorced from Judaism, but will not permit butter on his table at home when he is eating meat. Claims it upsets his stomach, and yet, always eats butter with his meat when he’s in a restaurant.”

“I’m afraid I don’t get the connection. Yes. I suppose I do. You mean that in certain matters the most rational of us is irrational.”

“Tell me; how do your folks feel about your being here?”

“They don’t know, they’re on one of these three week tours of Israel. I’m hoping to get out of this mess before they get back.”

“And if you don’t?”

The young man raised his hand to his forehead in a gesture of despair.

“Kathy –” prompted the rabbi. “You saw her that afternoon, that phone call you were waiting for, it was from her?”

“What about it?” he said belligerently.

“It might get you out of here. It could give you an alibi.”

Fine leaned forward and spoke heatedly, “If she goes to the police with that story; or if you do. I’ll deny it. I’ll say she’s just a crazy kid with a bad crush on me and with an overactive imagination, she’d have no way of corroborating her story; I took precautions not to be seen.”

“But why?”

“Because it would ruin my marriage, probably end it,” he said. “Don’t you understand? I love my wife.”

“You just admitted loving Kathy.”

“So what? Monogamy is a social institution; it’s not a natural law, not even of human psychology. I wouldn’t go to bed with Kathy if I didn’t love her. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love my wife. If you were ten years younger and not a rabbi, you might understand.”

“I have been ten years younger, and I wasn’t a rabbi at the time,” he said good-naturedly, “and I have a good memory. I’d like to try to understand.”

“All right.” said Roger Fine. “My wife and I have a good marriage, we enjoy each other in bed. Right now, she’s carrying my child, and I’m glad that it’s with her that I’m going to have a child. But Kathy – Look. Edie is a nice, proper, middle-class Jewish girl, and that’s good type, but it has its limitations, with Kathy, we had this great yearning for each other, and when we came together there was total surrender of mind and soul and body., each to the other. It was good, so it cannot be wrong.”

“I see.”

“Do you?” Fine asked eagerly. “Do you really?”

“Of course. You want to have your cake and eat it, too.”

I’m sticking my neck out, you know.” said Chief Lanigan, as he maneuvered the blue official car with its gold Barnard’s Crossing police insignia into the heavy traffic of Route 128.

“Because it’s in Swampdale rather than Barnard’s Crossing?” asked the rabbi. “It’s only across the line.”

“Oh; Swampdale’s no problem. Barney Rose there is a good friend of mine and wouldn’t mind me coming into his territory to do some routine checking. No. I’m thinking of the Boston police. This is their case, and they might not take kindly to interfering.”

“I see what you mean.” said the rabbi, then he brightened. “But strictly speaking, you’re just checking out Kathy Dunlop’s story. If you discover that she was not alone, that there was a man with her in the motel, a red-haired man with a limp, that could be Professor Fine who lives in Barnard’s Crossing and that would fall under you jurisdiction.”

“Yeah, yeah. David, maybe that kind of hair-splitting is acceptable to your rabbinical friends, but I’d hate to try it on Schroeder or Bradford Ames.” He glanced at his companion. “Not that I’m really worried; just grousing, that’s how cops make conversation.”

“Well, in any case. I appreciate your taking the trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Lanigan had a thought, and laughed. “You’re sure you weren’t worried the motel guy might think you were the girl’s husband?”

“Well, that entered my mind, too.” said the rabbi grinning. “Do you know anything about the place, its reputation?”

“It used to be chickens.” said Lanigan with seeming irrelevance. “A guy worked for a salary all his life and saved up a little money and then decided he was tired of it, tired of the city, the dirt, and the noise, he and the missus would be hankering for a place in the country: and somebody would sell him the idea of a chicken farm. Just enough work to keep your mind from going wooly, fresh country air, and a regular income from eggs and poultry – Joe Gargan, who retired as lieutenant, was all hepped up about it. His last year on the force, he carried the literature with him whenever he’d come on duty, he’d tell me how you pay so much for feed and sell your eggs for so much and then you sell the birds themselves at so much a pound, there was no way you could miss. Except of course, sometimes feed costs went up and you couldn’t make a profit, and sometimes disease would wipe out your stock, and then there were other expenses that you didn’t figure on.

“Well, sir, chickens have had it. Now it’s franchises, I understand. You pay down your life’s savings and maybe go in hock for a lot more to operate a stand that sells somebody’s hamburgers or hot dogs or ice cream, they tell you how you’re working for yourself and they can prove it’s bound to be successful.”

He shook his head in wonder. “But for a while there, it was motels, all you had to do was make up the beds in the morning and put clean towels in the bathroom, a morning’s work for a man and his wife, or for just the wife, while the man ran the office.”