by Roger Herst
The girl's father glowered first at Kye then at the hockey skater responsible for the collision.
Gabby, who was downed but uninjured, scrambled to help Kye onto his feet. "Are you all right?" she reached under his arm for support.
His lips grimaced with pain. "I'll tell you after I take inventory. How about you?"
"No problems. Call it my first fall of the day."
"Hey fella, watch where the hell you're skating." The father reproached Kye, pointing an accusing finger. "You scared my daughter."
"I didn't intend to," Kye exposed teeth as if he were prepared to bite his attacker. "I was trying to stop her from getting crushed."
"We know all about foreigners like you," the father snapped back.
"I'm sorry. I tried to keep your daughter from getting trapped under me," he said while probing his rib cage to test for a fracture.
The father cuddled the child protectively, still muttering invectives and converting fear into anger. "Next time, buddy, keep your filthy hands off my kid."
A few minutes later, granules of un-dissolved powdered hot chocolate swirled in Gabby's Styrofoam cup. A thin moustache of whipped cream appeared on her upper lip. Kye sat on a plastic chair in the outdoor café, one hand cupping his chocolate and the other massaging soreness in his ribs.
"I can drive you to George Washington Hospital's emergency room for an X-ray," she offered. "I saw the train wreck. The blow you received would have knocked an elephant off its feet."
"A little sore but I'll be all right. If that little girl hadn't been there, things would have been different."
"I didn't notice her father effusive with gratitude. He owed you his thanks, not his derision."
Kye squirmed, unable to get comfortable in the outdoor chair. "Forget about him. He's history in my book. We've got better things to worry about. I'd like to show you Politicstoday. We're located near the New Carrollton Metro station on the Orange Line, just beyond the District in Prince George's County. We have 62,000 square feet of offices with an option to build a larger facility alongside on a vacant pad. Think of a network television communication center and imagine our plant. We're pioneering with new technology every day."
"I'm impressed. If campaigning on the web requires so much technology, it must be expensive. I haven't got the kind of wealth required to support even two days of an operation you describe."
"Yes and no. Yes, it costs a lot to operate. But no, we enjoy a major cost saving with our personnel. We're set up as a commune, which means all employees, including me, receive no more than a subsistence salary. We issue stock warrants for the future when we'll divide the equity or, God forbid, go public. The system works pretty well for our young singles, but is tough on married couples, especially those with children. Thank God we have an excellent health plan. But as far as you're concerned, Lyle tells me the DNC expects to pay a good portion of your expenses. I promise we can do it for a fraction of what it will cost Toby Ryles."
"Given my track record in politics, I'm not worth the expenditure," she said as her cheeks cascaded into her dimples. "I can't justify spending other people's money."
"This is bigger than Gabby Lewyn. Serving in Congress is bigger than the individual running. Think of it as a campaign for clean politics, something this country hasn't seen since 1776."
His illusion to clean politics confused her. She wondered if he appreciated how power corrupted even the humblest. And were she to be successful, wouldn't honest politics put her into conflict with congressional leaders? It seemed to her that every two years a fresh crop of idealists entered Congress only to lose their idealism shortly after arrival.
"Want to skate more or take a short walk." He broke into her thoughts. "I'd like to show you the Hill."
She gazed over the crowded ice. Rock music had replaced waltzes. A quick glance at her watch told she had an hour before returning home to shower and dress for the late afternoon wedding ceremony. "Frankly, you don't look well enough for skating or walking."
"I'm okay. This isn't the first time I've been run up on the boards."
"If you're certain about that, then let's walk for a few minutes."
"Good," he said while rising from his seat, a grimace of pain expanding over his lower lip. "Let's go up to Congress."
After changing into shoes, they strolled east past the National Gallery of Art toward the Capitol Reflecting Pool. The steep marble stairs mounting from the Mall toward the white dome of the Capitol seemed particularly difficult for him.
"Makes you feel something special, doesn't it?" Gabby stated, overlooking the stately buildings flanking the Mall. "I get goose pimples when remembering Lincoln's epithet, 'a nation of the people, by the people, and for the people…' Despite all the shortcomings of Congress, it's still a magnificent system of governance, isn't it?"
"That's the myth anyway. It's mostly promise, you know. Once legislators walk through the doors of this august palace, they change forever. They become part of a machine with one overriding goal – to perpetuate their presence in the club. And that means raising money and pandering to those who give it."
A tremor of sadness rippled through her. "You're not inspired by the democracy this nation has fabricated?"
"I'm sick of Washington politics. My mission is to drive money out of the government equation."
"Then why not run for office yourself?"
His eyes turned to scan the ionic columns jutting heavenward. "Thought about it, but how many Koreans do you see in Congress? For that matter, how many Asians? That doesn't mean it couldn't happen, but it's unlikely. I can make a greater impact with technology than sitting in the big cathedral. If only I can get the right people to help me, people like you who won't join the rat pack as soon as elected. What's the use of winning if my candidate becomes just another hack politician like my erstwhile protégé, Reggi Meredith? I was betrayed seconds after he took the oath of office."
"How do you know I wouldn't sell out, too?"
"I read your dossier. You never wanted money or power."
"And if I decline to be your guinea pig?"
"You won't," he declared without the slightest hint of uncertainty.
"And how do you know that, Dr. Internet?"
"Because of what you said on the phone about how your friends have given up on skating and are prepared to stand behind the barrier and watch others have fun. You're not the type to sit comfortably on the sidelines while others skate. Congress is moving with horse and buggy technology. The Internet will make fund-raising marathons into substantive debates. At a fraction of today's costs."
He spun on the balls of his feet and pointed to the House of Representatives. "With or without you, Gabby, I'm going to change this place. I haven't got many friends in this city. Lyle Carberri suffers me only because he has no alternative. His minions are supremely suspicious."
She sought a witty remark, but nothing came to mind and instead she said, "I love what I do in the synagogue, Kye."
"That's obvious. But your talent is needed elsewhere."
When the conversation became too uncomfortable, she changed the subject . "I'd be happy to get my car and meet you over on First Street so you don't have to go down those stairs. I saw how painful coming up was."
"I haven't got a car these days. That, like almost everything I own, is in hock. We have two company vans used on weekends by our associates with families."
"Then I'll drive you home. It's time for me to prepare to officiate at a wedding at six o'clock."
"Thanks but no. It isn't necessary. I came by Metro and can return by Metro."
"Is the station far away?"
He laughed with eyebrows that rose into his forehead.
"What's so funny?"
"You obviously don't use public transport. The Capitol South station is only two blocks from here."
***
On Monday morning she brought up Politicstoday on the web, then sent an email to Kye Naah.
How are your ribs
? It's sad that father didn't appreciate how you saved his daughter from injury on the ice.
Gabrielle Lewyn
Monday afternoon a reply arrived from Kye.
You were right about an X-ray. My doctor said I have fractures on Posterior Left 6 and Left 7. Small but they really hurt. Happily, the prognosis is good. Next time we go skating I'll wear hockey pads. We're having a New Year's bash at Politicstoday. To celebrate, we'll be linked to centers in New York, London, Paris, Jerusalem, Cairo, Rio, Bombay, Jakarta. Our celebration will blow the budget, but this affair will be a first: besides my partners in crime deserve it.
You're invited. Due to time differences, we begin 8 hours before New Year's Eve in Washington and continue 24-hours through Jan 1st.
Let me know.
Kye
She was intrigued. None of the parties to which she had been invited and had declined sounded half as interesting. Most would have too much booze, too much food, and too much artificial fun for her taste. How many people get an opportunity to celebrate the dawning of a new year as Planet Earth revolves?
Thanks for the invitation. It sounds delightful.
Unfortunately, I have a commitment. Ohav Shalom is hosting a religious service to usher in the New Year. The tradition started with the Millennium and has continued annually. In comparison with what you have planned, our religious service will be modest and old-fashioned. But I do appreciate your thoughtful invitation. Sounds like I'm missing a very privileged party.
Gabby Lewyn
Three days later, she received another communication.
I called your synagogue to learn that the New Year's service on December 31st will begin at 7:00 p.m. and is scheduled to end promptly at 8:30 p.m. It seems to this Baptist that to usher in a new year on the wings of Jewish prayer would be inspiring. And with whom more worthy than the lovely representative of a people who have already experienced three thousand new years in their history? A woman I sincerely hope will soon represent not only her congregation but the Eighth District of Maryland.
If appropriate, I would love to attend your service. With some luck I can prevail upon you to join our party after 8:30. And yes, for the New Year, the boss man has reserved a company van.
Kye Oliver Naah
CHAPTER FOUR
A TORTIOUS WORLD
Gabby was not addicted to the Internet, but was prepared to glean sermonic material from it. This evening she honed onto the Mayo Clinic's site dealing with female eating disorders.
Since the death of Janean Morgenstern, her appetite had all but disappeared. Her stomach, now a parking lot for acid, had lost the pang of hunger. Each day her skirt felt looser at the waist and her breasts barely filled her bra. Additionally, her energy level sagged, though Chuck still ribbed her about being indefatigable. The Mayo Clinic reference for anorexia dealt with more severe symptoms than she possessed, though a physician would perhaps diagnose her condition as early stage eating disorder. The thought of consulting a doctor about the problem passed through her mind but was dismissed as unnecessary. The remedy for low caloric intake seemed perfectly obvious and she promised herself to eat more. But that, as most personal pledges, would prove easier said than done.
***
On a bitterly cold and blustery Sunday afternoon, Stanley Melkin, president of Ohav Shalom, called to request that she meet with two members of the congregation at the law office of Chamber, Greenberg, MacFarland and Clintock LLC at 3 p.m. Monday afternoon. Subject: the Morgenstern family tragedy. As of the moment, no lawsuit had been filed against Ohav but Stan had reason to believe one might.
"I'd like to have Asa participate," she responded.
"We've concluded that wouldn’t be wise at this juncture," Stan said. "First, there's no sense in alarming him. And second, we must talk with you about a personnel matter that is quite sensitive, particularly in the light of your pending sabbatical."
Leaving Asa out of rabbinical matters was not Gabby's style and she was uncomfortable with the decision. "I'd like you and your committee to reconsider," she said. "Asa and I are very close. He's a mature individual who merits inclusion, not exclusion."
"We don't mean to offend him, but at this point it would be counter-productive. You'll agree with us tomorrow."
On such matters, Gabby was not in the habit of conceding. But knowing Asa's current frame of mind, she gave way. If he was to become the personnel matter in question, why subject him to additional grief?
When she entered the waiting room at Chambers, Greenberg, MacFarland and Clintock LLC Ohav Shalom board members Shirley Delinsky and Marvin Jankelrod, both attorneys in other Washington firms, were already there. Greetings were stiff and, at the moment, no one mentioned why Stan had called the meeting. They eventually assembled in a conference room around an oblong mahogany conference table. Stan was in pale blue button-down shirt and an old-fashioned pastel tie, an understated look he cultivated as one of the capital's prominent lawyers whom many regarded as a lawyer's lawyer. Shirley, once an attractive woman, who had unfortunately permitted poundage to accumulate around her middle, dressed with the meticulous care of a distinguished professional. Marvin Jankelrod, who Gabby believed to be a pompous elitist, looked like a show-window manikin, clothed in a humdrum conventional dark gray suite, starched white shirt and lackluster striped necktie.
Stan offered coffee and when all declined due to the late hour, opened a yellow legal pad and addressed Gabby. "I've asked Marvin and Shirley to join us because they're dedicated to Ohav Shalom and because they're members of the bar. I want everything said in this room to be protected by Attorney-Client Privilege. I'm sure you understand this means that nothing said here need ever be disclosed in a legal deposition or before a court of law. I've taken steps to have the Ohav board appoint Marvin and Shirley as the congregation's attorneys-in-fact which will preclude any contention that in their capacity they are merely non-paid advisors and thereby not covered by this Attorney-Client Privilege. This is a closed meeting and what we say here is entirely confidential."
Gabby had long practiced confidentiality with her congregants, but never thought the synagogue might have matters to hush up. It took some mental gymnastics to think of herself as a client requiring legal representation.
"As you might suppose," Stan continued, "in this city there is an established network of legal spies. Information about which firm is retained by which clients leaks into the rumor mill just about as fast as emergency treatment. Lawyers chase clients like a good tip in the stock market. We've recently learned that David Morgenstern has engaged the firm of Morrison and Grant to explore a personal injury suit against Ohav and its rabbis. I used the word 'explore' because at this moment, it's not clear that their assignment is any more than that."
A sick feeling invaded Gabby's already sour stomach. "I can't believe David and Laura would actually do it."
"Please don't jump to conclusions," Marvin inserted himself. "Retaining a firm does not necessarily mean there will be a suit. Morrison and Grand have good lawyers who are not likely to recommend suing an old, well-respected congregation and its popular rabbis without substantial legal grounds. Despite matters of law, it isn't good public relations for a firm to take on community institutions. Lawyers are in the service trade, you know. To sue Ohav might alienate potential clients. From the firm's point of view, it's probably not cost-effective. Good law firms naturally shy away from suing charities, educational and religious institutions."
"However," Shirley interjected, "my firm also has its spies and we're aware that over sixty percent of Morrison and Grant's income is derived from personal injury law. The firm may not advertise itself as injury specialists nor wish to be identified as such, but it doesn’t feed its partners' families by turning down juicy settlements."
"We don't know what they intend," Stan cautioned, signaling with his hands that the subject had drifted off course. "That will only become clear in time. Let's see first if we can get a handle on our position. It will give me a
measure of comfort to know that we have a plan to implement. Next, I wish to address a personnel matter on behalf of board of directors."
Gabby cupped her hands and tilted her head over the conference table as though containing an explosive idea. "I just can’t believe this!" she spoke to the tabletop before glancing sideways at the president of the shul. "Does that mean Asa and I may have to hire our own lawyers?"
"We certainly hope not," Stan said. "We just don't know what David Morgenstern or his counsel have in mind. You'll be pleased to learn that Harold Farb has done his work well because the congregation carries up to ten million dollars of error and omissions insurance. Our insurer, Dominion Mutual of Cleveland, will have to foot the bill for any legal defense required and thus will have the final say about how a defense is managed."
Marvin Jankelrod was impatient and broke the thread of discussion, directing his remarks to Gabby. "Rabbi, we all concur that a law suit could turn on a few critical issues. It's obvious that our religious school trains kids in holiday rituals and that Janean and Tybee were pupils in the school. Okay?"
"Why of course, Marvin," responded Gabby.
"And as I understand, it was Rabbi Folkman who instructed the Morgenstern girls about these rituals, including but not limited to the lighting of candles. That's correct, isn't it?"