Day of Atonement. Faye Kellerman

I didn’t want to subvert my brother.” To Decker, he said, “Ezra and I have a very sticky relationship and I didn’t want to add any more hostile fuel to the fire.”

      “So what did you tell Noam?” Decker asked.

      “I told him he should ask his father.”

      “Smart man,” Rina said.

      Jonathan shook his head in disgust. “It was a cop-out, Rina. Noam still has those doubts. Who’s he going to discuss them with? And don’t say the rabbaim. They’ll just do to him what they did to you—”

      “Jonathan, you have no sense!” Rina snapped.

      “No, wait a minute.” Decker held out his palms. “Wait a minute.” He turned to Rina. “What did they do to you?”

      Jonathan said, “I thought you told him.”

      “You are really, really …” Rina clenched her fist and faced Peter. “They didn’t do anything.”

      “I’m supposed to believe that?” Decker said.

      “They tried to talk her out of marrying you,” Jonathan said. “Subtly, of course. They’d visit in pairs—one of them the guy who’s trying to be your pal. Almost like a good cop, bad cop kind of thing.” He looked at Decker. “You guys really do that, don’t you?”

      Decker said they did.

      Jonathan said, “I guess good psychology is good psychology. You really have to be aware of what’s going on, or else you’ll fall for it.”

      “I think you’ve said enough, Jonathan,” Rina said.

      “Let him finish,” Decker insisted.

      Jonathan went on, “They came over late at night when she was zonked, turned the lights real low, talked in very soft voices … ‘Rinalah. You’re a young woman. You shouldn’t be closing yourself off to one man. You’re a woman of valor, you should have a Torah scholar like Yitzchak alav hashalom. I know such a boy. And he wants to meet you—’”

      “Stop it!” Rina whispered. She looked at Peter. His face was flushed with anger.

      Jonathan turned to Decker. “She’d call me afterward. See, they pulled the same shtick on me when I decided to quit the yeshiva. We commiserated. You don’t have to be angry at them, Akiva. In their own minds, they were just doing what they thought was right. Besides, Rina seemed angry enough for both of you. Her mind was made up a long time ago. She only had eyes for you.”

      No one spoke for a moment. Finally, Decker let go with a laugh, put his arm around Rina.

      He said, “At least I know you’re loyal.”

      “It’s called love,” Rina said. She looked at Jonathan. He was very troubled. She said, “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

      “I’m glad, but that’s not what’s bothering me,” Jonathan said. “I’m thinking of Noam. Who does he talk to, Rina? Maybe I should try to approach him. Take the plunge and incur my brother’s wrath.”

      Ezra Levine came out of the house, repeating the exact dance his wife had performed minutes ago. He noticed Jonathan and said, “You’ve seen Noam, Yonasan?”

      “No, I haven’t, Ez.”

      “You didn’t see him or talk to him today?”

      Jonathan noticed a hint of concern in his brother’s voice. “No, I didn’t.”

      Ezra looked down the sidewalks again. Lots of people walking home from synagogue. But nowhere was his son.

      “Want me to look for him, Ez?” Jonathan said. To Decker he said, “Noam wanders off all the time. Maybe now’s a good time to reestablish some contact.”

      Ezra took off his hat, adjusted the black yarmulke underneath, then returned the hat to his head. He rocked on his feet for a moment, then said, “Do you mind, Yonie?”

      “No problem,” Jonathan said.

      “I’ll come with you,” Decker blurted.

      Rina gave Decker a look of surprise. “Anything to get out of lunch.”

      Decker tossed her a smile laced with emotion. Immediately, Rina felt his sadness. What that smile had told her.

      Jonathan.

      His brother.

      Talk about establishing contact.

      Decker caught himself. “I’m not trying to get out of anything. I just thought Jonathan might want to avail himself of my trained eye.”

      Everyone burst into laughter that held more relief than mirth.

       8

      It was taking too long, everyone making desperate excuses for the delay.

      “They got lost,” Breina said. “Go look for them, Ezra.”

      “That’s ridiculous,” Ezra countered. “Yonie grew up here.”

      “Yonie’s been away,” Breina fired back.

      Shimon said, “Yonie didn’t get lost, Breina. Calm down. They’ll be back soon. Yonie probably started talking to someone and forgot there are forty people waiting for him to come back. You know how he is.”

      “He’s the absentminded professor, Breina,” Miriam said. “Don’t worry.”

      “He’s impossible when it comes to time,” Faygie added.

      “Always late,” Rina’s sister-in-law, Esther, chimed in.

      Rina didn’t buy it. Even if Jonathan was irresponsible, Peter certainly wasn’t. But she didn’t say anything.

      Everyone was quiet for a minute. Ezra broke the silence.

      “I thought you were watching him,” he scolded his wife.

      “I had the girls,” Breina said. “The boys are your responsibility.”

      “Noam’s a year past bar mitzvah,” Ezra said. “I should watch him like an infant?”

      “I’m not saying you should watch him like an infant,” Breina said. “But you can keep your eyes open. You know how Noam is. Lost in his own world. Just like Yonasan—”

      “So if you know how he is,” Ezra interrupted, “you can’t keep your eyes open?”

      Breina repeated, “He’s just like Yonasan—”

      Frieda Levine broke in. “Stop bickering, both of you. You’re making all of us nervous.” But Frieda’s sense of dread had started long before this happened.

      This was not something that would right itself. This was Yad Elokeem—the hand of God—punishing her, condemning her for not being strong enough. It had taken Him forty-one years, but she’d known that the time would come eventually. And now He had chosen the weakest of her sons, her most vulnerable grandchild, knowing how much it would hurt.

      Her lost child—had he come as part of God’s vengeance? Or had he been sent for some other reason? Perhaps the Almighty in His infinite wisdom was also testing her. Perhaps she could earn redemption if she showed herself worthy—worthy of His mercy, worthy of Akiva’s mercy.

      Whatever was expected of her, whatever she must do, she would do. She would be strong. To her husband, Frieda said, “Make kiddush. Akiva and Yonasan will make their own kiddush when they come back.”

      Alter Levine was sitting at one of the folding tables, a volume of Talmud in front of him. He looked up when he heard his wife speak, but returned his attention to the Talmud when no one else moved.

      Ezra gathered his other children and asked, “Who