Monday the Rabbi Took Off

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Monday the Rabbi Took Off Page 28

by Harry Kemelman


  Her brother laughed. “What difference did it make to you what he read? It kept him busy, didn’t it?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mind that,” she said. “I just mentioned it to show you that it is different for a rabbi. But he couldn’t read all day long. As a matter of fact, Hugo never was much of a reader. It was just that having nothing to do, the poor man would follow me around all day long. When I was making the beds, he was right there. And when I was in the kitchen, he was there, offering to do things, ready to hand me things I didn’t want. You know, a woman develops a certain rhythm in her work. If she’s used to walking over to the cabinet to get the pepper, it doesn’t help her when she finds it at her elbow. It throws her off. I tell you, if this job hadn’t come along, I would have gone out of my mind.”

  “But it did come along,” Dan said.

  “Yes, and it’s really very pleasant here. And Hugo is very well liked by the congregation. As for the board, they just can’t do enough to show how much they appreciate his coming. And Hugo loves it here, a lot better than his old congregation where he spent thirty years. He’s had no quarrel with the board since he’s come; everything is completely agreeable. From that point of view it’s the easiest job he’s ever had. And it’s not as though he’s an old man, you know. I mean, a rabbi at sixty-five is really at the height of his powers. After all, he doesn’t dig ditches. And then he has all his old sermons that he can give, and of course, they’re new to these people.”

  “But then it’s only temporary,” Stedman observed.

  “Well, it needn’t be. If Hugo weren’t so indecisive about things and downright impractical, he could stay on here as long as he liked. I’m sure he’ll discuss it with you. I’ve been talking to him, and I think I’ve about convinced him!”

  She flashed her turn signal and made the corner. “This is our street.” She brought the car to a halt at the curb, and simultaneously Rabbi Deutch appeared on the veranda to wave to them.

  When Dan got out of the car, he was greeted effusively by his brother-in-law.

  “It’s good to see you, Dan. You’re going to stay with us for a while, aren’t you? Here, let me take your bag.” Over his brother-in-law’s protest he grabbed the larger of the two bags Dan had unloaded on the sidewalk and headed for the house.

  “Life here must agree with him,” said Dan to his sister. “Hugo seems a lot peppier, a lot more vital somehow than when I last saw him.”

  “Oh, he is. It’s this new job here. He’s really enjoying it. You must help me persuade him to stay on.”

  Stedman looked at his sister and pursed his lips. “We’ll talk about it,” he said enigmatically.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTY-TWO

  It had been agreed between them that Raymond was to do the talking, not only because he was the president, but because he was a lawyer and was presumably smoother in negotiations.

  “You tend to jump the gun, Marty. With high-class people like the Deutches you have to be easy and relaxed. You know it’s not like a couple who lost the rent money at the races and come to you for a loan.”

  “All right, all right, so you do the talking, but get that contract signed tonight.”

  “You keep saying we should get it signed tonight, but as far as I’m concerned if he just says he’ll stay, I don’t mind when he signs the contract. For all I know he might want to have his lawyer look it over—”

  “Yeah? Well, let me tell you, Bert, so long as we don’t have his signature on paper, we got nothing. I know he’s a high-class guy, and maybe his word is as good as his bond, but me, I’ve been in too many deals where everybody agrees and shakes hands and then later they say you misunderstood them or conditions had changed. You think we’re the only ones who are after him? Maybe we are, and then again, maybe after he’d been here a couple of weeks and decided he liked working better than loafing, he sent some letters out to congregations where the rabbis were going on sabbatical, saying, ‘I have been informed that your spiritual leader, Rabbi Zilch, will be absent on a sabbatical leave, ta-da, ta-da, ta-da … so I would like to inform you that I am willing to consider helping you out—ta-da, ta-da, ta-da. Yours truly, Hugo Deutch, Rabbi-Emeritus.’”

  “C’mon, Marty!”

  “Believe me, it wouldn’t surprise me. Look, he was retired for only a few months. Right? And we came along and offered him a job. Right? Now why did he take it if he was retired? I can see where he might to help out some rabbi pal of his who got sick or wanted to go on sabbatical. But he didn’t know Small. So I’ll tell you why he took it. It was because he was tired of sitting around on his rabbinical fanny doing nothing. Retirement ain’t everybody’s dish of tea, you know. But he knows the job is only for three months. So if he liked being back in harness again, wouldn’t he start contacting other congregations?”

  “Well—”

  “So that’s why I want his signature on a contract. Besides, when Small comes home, and it’s only a few days now, he’s going to act like he went away on an ordinary vacation and is back now ready to go to work.”

  “So we tell him we figured he resigned and we made other plans.”

  Marty Drexler shook his head vehemently. “Unh-unh. It’s my opinion Rabbi Deutch would bow out immediately.”

  “So how does it change things if we have Rabbi Deutch’s signature on a contract?”

  “Then he’s committed, and he can’t back out. So it would be Rabbi Small who would bow out.”

  “How do you know he wouldn’t make a fight for it?”

  “Because he’s a proud bastard and wouldn’t give us the satisfaction of admitting he’d been kicked out. He’d act like he wasn’t planning to come back anyway.”

  “I seem to recall he’s fought for his job in the past. There were a couple of times—”

  “No, Bert, those times were different. There was some special principle he was fighting for, not just his job. You trust old Marty. You want Rabbi Deutch? Get his signature on the contract.”

  Nevertheless, in spite of the sense of urgency that Marty Drexler had inspired in him, when they arrived at the Deutch home and were seated in the living room with the rabbi and his wife, Bert Raymond employed the easy, relaxed approach he preferred. He talked about the weather and how nice Barnard’s Crossing was in the summer. He inquired about Mrs. Deutch’s famous brother and what news he had brought back from Israel. It was only when he noticed that Marty was getting restive that he said, “We came over to finalize the matter we discussed last week, Rabbi.”

  “You have heard from Rabbi Small?” asked Rabbi Deutch.

  “Well, no, Rabbi, not directly.”

  “So you don’t know his attitude in regard to the position here.”

  “Well, not in so many words, but I’m sure he’s not interested. I mean, from the whole history of our negotiations with him, the board feels that he is not interested in coming back. We want to make sure we have a continuity, so we’d like to get this matter settled tonight by getting your signature on a contract.”

  “But Rabbi Small is likely to be home in a few days. Surely we can wait until he arrives before settling the matter.”

  At this point, Marty Drexler’s patience gave out. “Look here, Rabbi, I’m a businessman, and I don’t like to pussyfoot about a deal like Bert here. That’s the legal mind at work. I’ll put it to you straight. We don’t want a fight in the congregation. We don’t want people taking sides and arguing the pros and cons of which rabbi is better. Personally, I don’t think that’s dignified,” he said virtuously. “Now, if you want to stay, we have a contract right here. You sign it, and that’s the end of it. We’re pretty sure Rabbi Small wouldn’t argue about it, not if he’s faced with what Bert here calls a fait accompli. See? We sign the contract right here and now and everything is hunky-dory. We wait until Rabbi Small arrives, and there’s a hassle.”

  Rabbi Deutch nodded his head slowly. “I see,” he said, and he spoke in his normal rather than in his pulpit voice. “Well, when Rabbi Small
comes home, I will talk to him. If he says flatly that he does not want the job and that he had no intention of returning to it, I will then sign your contract. If he is interested in the position, however, even if your board decides you do not want him and vote him down, I will not be interested in staying on.”

  Mrs. Deutch jerked her head in a decisive little nod as a schoolteacher might when a dull pupil answers correctly in the presence of the supervisor.

  “But your wife said—” Marty blurted out.

  “That’s how I feel about it,” said the rabbi decisively, “and that’s how Mrs. Deutch feels.”

  When they had left, the rabbi said to his wife, “I’m glad that’s over. My conscience has been troubling me ever since the idea of staying on came into my mind.”

  “I’m afraid I had something to do with it, Hugo,” Mrs. Deutch said ruefully. “But to tell the truth, I really did think that Rabbi Small was not coming back. I mean, not writing to the president—”

  “Well, I think I can understand that. He’s quite young, and I think they hurt him. So he wouldn’t write them. Not even a card saying he was having a good time.”

  “I suppose so.” She hesitated. “Of course after what Dan told us he did for Roy, it was impossible for you to decide anything else. But I don’t mind admitting, Hugo, that I’m sorry. I really enjoyed our few months here—”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve enjoyed being here not because it’s this particular temple or congregation, but because it was new to us. And being temporary, everyone treated us exceptionally well.”

  “That’s true, I suppose—”

  “But don’t you see, Betty?” he went on eagerly. “The trick is to be a guest. If I had accepted the appointment, that would have been over.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I think we’ve gone about this retirement business the wrong way. The whole point of retiring is that you’re free and you’ve got enough money to be free on. That means doing what you want to do.”

  “But you tried that and you were bored,” she said.

  “No, I did what other people thought I should do: I did nothing. And that’s boring. I’ll admit. But if you do what you want to do, that means doing nothing some of the time and then when you feel like it—working. I didn’t tell you, but I called the seminary yesterday. I had a long telephone conversation with the placement office and I told them that I’d be interested in temporary jobs, substituting for rabbis taking a sabbatical or for someone who is sick and is likely to be laid up for some time, and that money was a minor consideration. I asked them to keep me in mind. I gathered that I’d have no difficulty getting all the jobs I want.”

  “You want to go back to work?”

  “Only when I want to,” he said. “I’d like to travel a little, perhaps to Israel. Maybe we could stay a few months the way the Smalls have done. Then I’d take a pulpit for a few months or half a year—if I wanted to; if I liked the place and the people. That way, whereever we went we’d be new—and independent. And if I say so myself, I do think I’m rather good at running a congregation.”

  “Oh, Hugo, one of the best,” Betty said with a rush of excitement. “I do think it will work, too. And perhaps if they ask you to stay on—”

  “I’d tell them I was sorry,” he said firmly, “that I’ve retired and that I’m not interested in a permanent position.”

  “I suppose that would be best, dear.”

  They did not talk as they got into their car, each immersed in his own private thoughts. But as the car pulled away from the Deutch residence, Raymond asked plaintively, “Now what do we do?”

  “Hell, what can we do?” Drexler demanded savagely. “We start planning a welcome home party for the Smalls.”

  CHAPTER

  FIFTY-THREE

  The missus tells me you people are due over at our place tomorrow night,” said Chief Lanigan, “but I happened to be in the vicinity—”

  “Of course,” said Miriam. “And you’ll have a cup of tea, won’t you?”

  She got up from sitting on the divan and started for the kitchen. The chiefs eyes flicked at her middle as she passed, and he said, “Well I see you weren’t idle over there, David. And I don’t know but that it might not justify the trip. But did you find what you went over for?”

  “Oh, yes,” said the rabbi as he helped Miriam with the tea things. He offered their guest cream and sugar. “It was there all right, and we found it—practically the day we arrived.”

  “Well, that’s fine. Still, it was a mite foolhardy, wasn’t it, leaving your job for three months especially where the competition was so good? Although I suppose this welcome home party they gave you proves you knew what you were doing …” he added grudgingly.

  Was the chief scolding him for risking his job by staying away? The rabbi was touched. “Yes, he’s a good man, Rabbi Deutch,” he said. “They liked him in the town?”

  Lanigan nodded vigorously. “Very impressive. He looks the part for one thing.” He eyed the rabbi appraisingly. “You don’t, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, don’t knock it. Impressing people is part of your stock-in-trade. It’s not supposed to be the style now, they tell me. There’s a fashion in ministers, I guess. But I’m not sure the new style will last. Like we’ve got a new curate down at the church. He came while you were away. He’s the new type of priest. You see him around in blue jeans and a sweater. He sits on the floor with the kids and plays the guitar. Religious songs I’ll admit, but they don’t sound religious. At least not our kind. So what’s the result? When I see him in front of the altar in his vestments celebrating the mass, all I can see is a hippie in blue jeans. And when he preaches, I find myself thinking: Prove it, prove it. I mean, if it’s not magic, if it’s just everyday argument, then he’s got to convince me. And of course he can’t.”

  “And Father Dougherty?”

  “You never see him except in a Roman collar and proper black. So he always seems to be in his vestments, and when you see him before the altar, you believe him. Now Mike Dougherty is no great brain, but he doesn’t have to be because you feel that it’s Somebody talking through him. Maybe there’s a lot of hocus-pocus in religion, Rabbi, but it works somehow.”

  “Well, it’s a little different with us,” said the rabbi. “The rabbi is not a priest.”

  “Yes, I know, you’ve explained it to me, but does your congregation know it or do they feel the need of the hocus-pocus anyway?”

  “I guess some of them do,” said the rabbi. “Maybe all of them at one time or another.”

  “Well, that’s why Rabbi Deutch was so popular, I suppose. I heard him once when he chaired a meeting. He kind of intoned, if you know what I mean. Very impressive. Now with us the priest wears a uniform, and the vestments are a kind of full-dress uniform. You people don’t go in for that, so you’ve got to get the effect by voice and manner, because a uniform is important. Ask any cop.”

  The rabbi glanced at the chiefs blue cap on the floor beside him and said with a smile, “The chief of police in Jerusalem or at least the inspector wears one of these.” And he touched the yarmulke he was wearing.

  “Is that so? You mean that’s part of his uniform? He wears it in the street?”

  “No, he has a cap like yours. It was just while he was in his office—”

  “You saw him in his office? Did you get involved with the police over there?”

  The rabbi grinned. “Not really. There was a bombing, and I had some knowledge of it and was questioned by the police.”

  “A bombing! And you were grilled by the police?”

  “I suppose you could call it a grilling,” said the rabbi, smiling reminiscently. “But it was mostly about my religious views. The inspector doubted my orthodoxy.”

  The chief shook his head in wonderment. “A policeman questioning your religious orthodoxy? What kind of place is it where a cop would question a ra
bbi on his religious views? That’s police business?”

  “It’s that kind of place,” said the rabbi, “and it is not general. Just this particular cop.”

  “But you say there was a bombing. Then there is danger there—”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Now, look here. The monsignor over in Salem is leading a group to Ireland, Rome, and then the Holy Land. The missus had been making noises about going and I’ve half a mind to let her. But if there’s danger—”

  “Oh, there’s no danger,” said Miriam. “For her,” she added. “But for us—”

  “What danger was there for you?” the chief demanded.

  Miriam looked at her husband. He smiled. “For us,” he said, “there’s always the danger that we won’t come back.”

 

 

 


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