Now You See Me...

by Rochelle Krich

  Later that night I drove Cheryl to her apartment and tucked her into bed when she was too tired to talk. In the morning I accompanied her to the Hollywood station and waited with her while Justin was booked. He’s on a suicide watch now, in county jail. Jessie told me the district attorney is going for second-degree murder. Justin’s father flew out to see him and has retained a top-notch attorney to defend his son.

  After Thanksgiving dinner at my parents’, Zack and I visited Cheryl and made sure she ate the food my mother sent. Since then I’ve stopped by several times. Cheryl seems pleased to see me, but I know I’ll always be a reminder of the night that changed her life. She told me that people in the community have been dropping off meals, and she’s received more phone calls and invitations in the past few weeks than she has in the year since she moved here. It’s sad that it takes a tragedy for people to notice you.

  Melissa is moving to Seattle. She was shocked and saddened to hear about Justin. Greg had talked about him fondly, and often, and Justin had bought Kaitlin the yellow scooter I’d seen in the yard. Greg’s parents found papers in their son’s safe-deposit box, including a folder with proof of Adam Prosser’s cheating. They left the folder with Melissa. She gave it to me.

  I sent a copy of the contents of the folder to Janet Mendes. I sent another copy to Robert Hornstein, the founder of Torat Tzion. That probably explains why Dr. Mendes was anxious to meet with me.

  “I wish we’d had this in September,” she told me in her office.

  I said, “Uh-huh,” in a tone that told her I wasn’t buying what she was selling. Then I repeated what I’d learned about Amy Brookman’s accusation, and told Dr. Mendes I couldn’t reveal my source. For what it’s worth, Dr. Mendes appeared shaken, but I’ve learned that people and their reactions aren’t always what they seem.

  “Of course, we’re going to make sure appropriate measures are taken,” she told me. “I hope you don’t feel it necessary to make this public, Molly.”

  Greg had wanted to go public, but I didn’t see any good in dragging Torat Tzion through the media mud, especially since “appropriate measures” included expelling Adam Prosser and Amy Brookman, and removing Gerald Prosser from the board.

  As for Dr. Mendes, my mother heard a rumor that the secular studies principal will be leaving Torat Tzion at the end of the year. I can’t prove she doctored the AP exams, and maybe she didn’t. I’m curious whether AP scores at Torat Tzion will be as uniformly high this May as they have been in the past few years.

  The storm blows over, the driftwood remains.

  Connors and I are okay, I think. He believed my explanation about the license plate, but I still feel an occasional twinge of hurt that he doubted me. And I’ve made a new friend in Jessie. We met the other day for coffee, and Zack and I plan to go out with her and Ezra.

  Dr. McIntyre has taken a leave of absence from Torat Tzion and his practice. He’s undergoing therapy. Nancy is hopeful. And the district attorney won’t be filing charges.

  Hadassah is back at school and is seeing a therapist. She plans to go to seminary in Israel, though not necessarily this coming September. She needs to heal first, in body and in spirit. She told me she’s dreading her court appearance in the event Justin’s case goes to trial, but she’s strong. Jessie told her the injury she inflicted on Greg was superficial, despite the profuse bleeding. But Hadassah still feels guilty. She has nightmares about him and wonders when they’ll stop. I didn’t tell her that seven years later, I still dream about Aggie, and I wasn’t even there when she died.

  I don’t think we’ll ever know what Justin was thinking when he attacked the man he’d loved like a brother. He told Hadassah he was desperate to stop Greg from phoning Cheryl or the police. My friend Irene thinks it’s more complicated. She thinks Justin had built up resentment toward his real father, who, in his mind, had abandoned him for a new family; that he transferred that resentment first to Rabbi Bailor, who had betrayed his mother, and then to Greg, who was about to betray him.

  Irene is probably right. She usually is.

  Rabbi Bailor was stunned when I told him that Cheryl Wexner was his high school sweetheart, that Justin was her son. “I don’t think I ever saw her,” he told me. That was probably true, in more ways than one.

  The rabbi insisted that he had championed Greg Shankman’s case, though unsuccessfully. I’d like to think that’s true. It’s possible that Greg’s disappointment with the rabbi’s efforts was unreasonable.

  Rabbi Bailor also told me he’d defended me fourteen years ago. It seems Rabbi Ingel had insinuated to others that Rabbi Bailor was a little too fond of me, that maybe fondness was clouding his judgment.

  “I was a coward, Molly,” he said. “I failed you. I failed myself.”

  There are things Rabbi Bailor could have done fourteen years ago, but I am ready to move on. There are things Charlie Bailor should have done when he became Chaim, though I’m not sure any of them would have kept him from breaking Cheryl’s heart. Cheryl told me that she and the rabbi talked the other day.

  “I should have done that years ago,” she said.

  A small vengeance, Bubbie G says, poisons the heart.

  Maybe that’s why I phoned Rabbi Ingel last week. I planned to tell him how I’d felt all these years, to get closure, to rid myself of the poison. He stopped me before I could say anything and told me he was glad I’d called.

  “Maybe I was a little hard on you, Malka, but I did it for your own good. And I was right, wasn’t I? My words made you turn your life around.”

  There is nothing you can do if someone doesn’t want to see.

  I’ve been checking out J Spot from time to time. Birch2 is a frequent visitor. I thought long and hard, then phoned Sara and told her that if she didn’t tell her parents about her online activities, I would. But I’m not Lucky7, and as Dr. McIntyre said, you can’t be everywhere.

  In case you were wondering, Liora’s date turned out to be a dud, but on the plus side she’s racking up frequent flier miles. I put her in touch with Aliza. They seem to be hitting it off—and not, Liora said with a laugh, just because they’re both eager to find their true loves.

  The last time I saw Dassie, she asked me whether I thought Justin loved her. Or had it been all about vengeance? she wanted to know. I told her he probably loved her.

  “Like Shechem?” she said. “He came to love Dinah.”

  “Like Schechem,” I agreed.

  It occurred to me that Cheryl’s love had fostered vengeance, that her son’s vengeance had turned into a distorted love. That Greg Shankman had loved inappropriately, and then not well.

  Last Friday I added the garlic clove and sugar cube Bubbie gave me into my Shabbos chulent. Bubbie was right about the chulent. It was delicious. As for bringing a baby, time will tell. In the meantime, I count my blessings that I am with someone I love.

  Tonight as Zack lit the first candle of Chanukah in our menorah at home. It was also the first anniversary of our engagement. Zack gave me a beautiful necklace and four boxes of blueberries. And Godiva chocolates, of course. I gave him a leather desk set he’d been eyeing. No Clementines—they won’t be available until next year.

  After dinner with our families, we had drinks at Yamashiro and invited Irene to join us on her break. The Bailors had sent her flowers, and she had an audition tomorrow that looked promising. Life was good, she said.

  Zack and I strolled through the gardens and watched the koi. Then we walked outside and looked at the starry night.

  Molly’s Butternut Squash Quiche

  (compliments of my daughter Sabina)

  1 butternut squash, or one package precooked squash

  ½ cup flour

  ½ cup sugar or Splenda sugar substitute

  ½ stick margarine, softened

  2 cups soy milk or pareve (nondairy) creamer

  3 eggs

  cinnamon

  Buy a box of precooked squash. Or . . . wash and pierce a squash and bake at 350°
F. for an hour and a half, or until soft. Scoop out the flesh, and mash it in a bowl.

  Add flour, sugar (or Splenda sugar substitute), softened margarine, soy milk (it’s nondairy) or nondairy creamer, and eggs. Whisk, or use an electric mixer for a smoother consistency.

  Pour into quiche pan or round aluminum pan. Sprinkle top with cinnamon.

  Bake at 350° F for an hour and fifteen minutes or until golden brown.

  Serve hot or at room temperature. Cold isn’t bad, either.

  Serves eight to twelve people, depending on how generously you slice it.

  One slice is never enough. ☺

  Glossary of Hebrew and Yiddish Words

  abba (noun, ab’-ba). Father.

  Baruch Hashem (Ba-ruch’ Ha-shem’). Thank God. Literally, Blessed be God.

  bashert (noun or adjective, ba-shert’). Destiny, or destined.

  bas Yisroel (noun, bas Yis-ro’-el). Daughter of Israel. A complimentary description.

  Besser gornisht tsu machen aider tsu machen gornisht. Better to do nothing than to make something into nothing.

  bris (noun). Literally, a covenant. The ritual circumcision performed on a male when he is eight days old.

  bubaleh (noun, bub’-ba-leh). Little doll; little grandmother. (Affectionate term.)

  challa (noun, chal’-la or chal-la’). Braided loaf of bread. Plural: challot (chal-lot’) or challas (chal’-las). See my book, Dream House, for recipe.

  Chanukah (noun, Cha’-nu-kah). Eight-day Festival of Lights in the Jewish month of Kislev, which usually falls in December or in late November.

  Chas v’shalom (chas ve-sha’-lom, or chas ve-sha-lom’). God forbid.

  chulent (noun, chu’-lent). Sabbath stew made of meat, potatoes, barley, and several kinds of beans.

  chuppa (noun, chup’-pa). Wedding canopy.

  chutzpadik (adjective, chutz’-pa-dik). Audacious; galling.

  chutzpah (noun, chutz’-pah). Audacity; gall.

  daven (verb, da’-ven). To pray.

  drash (noun). Sermon.

  dreidel (noun, drā’-del). A four-sided top used to play games on Chanukah.

  d’var Torah (noun, d-var’ to’-rah). Sermonette, explication on the Torah.

  eruv (noun, e’-ruv; also, e-ruv’). An artificial or natural boundary within which one may carry items on the Sabbath.

  frum (adjective). Used to describe someone who observes Orthodox Judaism.

  get (noun). Jewish bill of divorce.

  Gut voch. A good week. A phrase uttered after the Sabbath ends to wish someone a good week, and the title of a song. In Hebrew, Shavuah tov.

  Hashem (noun, Ha-shem’). God.

  hatzolah (noun, ha-tzo’-lah). Rescue. Also, hatzalah (ha-tza-lah’).

  havdalah (noun, hav-dal’-lah or hav-da-lah’). Literally, separation. The blessing that marks the end of the Sabbath and separates it from the rest of the week.

  ima (noun, ee’-ma). Mother.

  kenehoreh (ke-ne-hor’-eh). Also, ke’naynehoreh (ke-nain’-e-hor’-eh). A frequently used phrase that is an elision of keyn ayin horeh (kān a’-yin hor’-eh). Let there be no evil eye.

  ketsaleh (noun, ket’-sa-leh). Kitten (endearment).

  Kiddush (noun, kid’-dush or kid-dush’). A prayer recited over wine at the beginning of a Sabbath or holiday meal. Also refers to refreshments served after synagogue services on the Sabbath or other Jewish holidays.

  kindt (noun). Child.

  Kleine kinder, kleine freiden; groisseh kinder, groisseh laiden (phrase, klein’-e kin’-der, klein’-e freid’-en; grois’-seh kind’-der, grois’-seh lai’-den). Small children, small joys; bigger children, bigger sorrows.

  Kol ha’kavod (phrase, kol ha-ka-vod’). Kudos.

  kosher (adjective, ko’-sher). Ritually correct. Most often used in reference to dietary laws.

  lashon harah (noun, la-shon’ ha-rah’; also, loshen horeh (lo’-shen ho’reh). Slander, gossip.

  L’cha Dodi (l’-cha’ do-di’). Sabbath song, part of Friday night prayer service. Literally, “Come, My Beloved.”

  mammeleh (noun, mam’-me-leh). Little mother (endearment).

  mandelbrot (noun, man’-del-brot). Almond-flavored biscotti. Literally, almond bread. Also, mandelbroyt.

  Mazel tov (ma’-zel tov). Literally, Good luck; figuratively, Congratulations. Also, Mazal to f.

  mechallel Shabbos (verb or noun, me-chal’-lel shab’-bos). One who violates the Sabbath, or to violate the Sabbath. Also, mechallel Shabbat (me-chal-lel’ shab-bat’).

  mechitza (noun, me-chi’-tza). Partition in a synagogue or hall to separate men and women.

  menuval (noun, me-nuv’-el). A loathsome person. Also, adjective, (me-nu-val’), loathsome.

  mikvah (noun, mik’-vah). Ritual bath. Also, mikveh.

  mishpacha (noun, mish-pa’-cha or mish-pa-cha’). Family.

  mitzvot (noun, plural, mitz-vot’). Positive commandments. Also, mitzvos (mitz’-vos).

  negel vasser (noun, ne’-gel vas’-ser). A ritual daily rinsing of hands performed upon rising.

  oitzerel (noun, oi’-tze-rel). Little treasure (endearment).

  Olam Habah (noun, o’-lam ha’bah; also: o-lam’ ha-bah’). The afterlife, the world to come.

  Pesach (noun, pe’-sach). Passover.

  qvell (verb). To take joyous pride in.

  Rambam (noun, Ram’-bam or Ram-bam’). Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, also known as Maimonides. A renowned twelfth-century scholar, he served as physician to the sultan of Egypt and authored the Mishna Torah, a systemic codification of Jewish law, and The Guide to the Perplexed.

  Seder (noun, se’-der). Feast held on the eve of the first day of Passover, commemorating the Exodus from Egypt. Plural, sedorim, or, colloquially, Seders. Jews living outside of Israel observe a second Seder on the eve of the second day.

  segulah (noun, se-gu’-lah; se-gu-lah’). An object or prayer connecting the recipient with a special beneficial quality; treasured possession.

  Shabbat (noun, Shab-bat’). Sabbath. Also, Shabbos (shab’-bes).

  Shabbat shalom (Shab-bat’ sha-lom’). May you have a good Sabbath.

  shadchan (noun, shad’-chan). Matchmaker.

  shadchonim (noun, plural, shad-chon’-im). Matchmakers.

  shain kindt (phrase, shine kindt). Beautiful child (endearment).

  Shavuah tov (Sha-vu’-ah tov). A good week. See Gut voch, above.

  sheitel (noun, shei’-tel). Wig.

  shekel (noun, shek’-el). A monetary unit, a coin. Plural, shekalim (sheka-lim’) or colloquially, shekels.

  shepseleh (noun, shep’-se-leh). Little lamb (endearment).

  sheyfeleh (noun, diminutive, shā’-fe-le). Little lamb (endearment).

  Sh’ma (noun and verb, she-ma’). Literally, hear. The first word of a prayer recited three times daily. Parents recite this prayer with their young children at bedtime.

  shidduch (noun, shid’-duch). Arranged match between a man and a woman.

  shiva (noun, shiv’-a or shiv-a’). Literally, seven; the seven days of mourning for a deceased relative.

  shofar (noun, sho’-far). Trumpet, or ram’s horn used on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

  sholom zochor (noun, sho’-lem zo’-cher). A party for a newborn male, held on the Friday night after his birth. Also, shalom zachor (shalom’ za-chor’).

  shrek (noun). A fright. Colloquially, Yikes! Or, what a shrek!

  shul (noun). Synagogue. Plural, shuls.

  siddur (noun, sid-dur’ or sid’-dur). Prayerbook.

  Sukkot (noun, suk-kot’). Eight-day harvest festival that begins five days after Yom Kippur. Also, Succos (Suc’-ces).

  tallis (noun, tal’-lis). Prayer shawl. Also, tallit (tal-lit’).

  Talmud (noun, tal’-mud). Body of work composed of the Mishna— the oral law—and Gemara, its commentaries.

  tateleh (noun, ta’-te-leh). Little father.

  tayereh kindt (phrase, ta’-ye-reh kindt). Dear child (endearment).

  teffi
lin (noun, te-fil’-lin; te-fil-lin’). Phylacteries: black boxes containing verses from the Scriptures that males use in daily prayer.

  teshuvah (noun, te-shu’-veh or te-shu-vah’). Repentance.

  Torah (noun, To’-rah or To-rah’). The Bible; also, the parchment scroll itself.

  tznius (noun, tzni’-us). Modesty. Also, tzniut (tzni-ut’).

  yarmulke (noun, yar’-mul-ke). Skullcap. The Hebrew is kippah (kee’pah or kee-pah’).

  yeshiva (noun, ye-shi’va or ye-shi-va’). School of Jewish study.

  z’chus (noun, zeh-chus’). Merit. Also, zechut (ze-chut’).

  zeck (noun). Sack.

  zeeskeit (noun, zees’-keit). Sweetheart. Also, ziskeit.

  zeidie (noun, zā’-die). Grandfather. Also, zeidi, zeide, zeideh, zaydie.

  zemirot (noun, ze-mi-rot’; plural of ze’-mer). Songs usually sung during the Sabbath or holiday meals.

  A Reading Group Guide for Now You See Me...

  Two years ago a teacher at an Orthodox Jewish high school told me she suspected that a few of her female students were cutting themselves.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  I recall being disturbed and saddened, but not shocked. The Orthodox community attempts to shelter its own from the dangers of the secular world, but no community is invulnerable.

  “Five months ago these girls were pushing the envelope, coming this close to violating the school’s dress policy,” the teacher said. “Now their sleeves cover their wrists—even when the temperature’s in the eighties. So I know.”

  I had been contemplating writing a novel about teens at risk. I had a folder thick with articles I’d clipped from newspapers and magazines: Teens and the Internet. Teens and chat room predators. Teens who self-mutilate. Teens who cheat. Teens with eating disorders. The risk of suicide for teens taking antidepressants.

  Now You See Me explores the challenges faced by young people on the verge of adulthood, young people who are eager to establish their own identities, but are frightened and confused. Young people who may feel disenfranchised, isolated, burdened with their parents’ expectations and their own feelings of inadequacy, pressured by their peers, and desperate to fit in.