Confluence. Stephen J. Gordon

      “Thanks.” He walked forward, meeting me halfway. “How ya doin’?”

      “I’m frustrated.”

      “And you have a pair of bos in your hand. Uh oh.”

      “I’m going to put all this other stuff out my head, and we’re going to work on your bo technique.”

      “Like I said, uh oh. The last time you were frustrated you beat the shit out of me.”

      “I did not. Stop exaggerating. Besides, I’m going off to the side to meditate and work on my own stuff. While I do that, you’ll practice the bo form.” With that, I tossed him one of the bos.

      “Oh, you’re going to relax first. That’s much better for me. I hurt already.”

      I laughed and moved off to the far side of the room, while Jon pretty much stayed where he was. After leaning my bo against a wall, I moved back onto the floor, picked a spot, and closed my eyes. Too much stuff was bouncing around my head and I needed to not think of anything except my breathing right now. Before I did that, however, I thought of Katie. At this moment she was at school, even though it was Sunday, to work on some of her reports. She said she’d come by later, and I was looking forward to that. We really hadn’t been connecting lately, except late at night in bed. We needed more. Everything in balance.

      My breathing settled down, and the next twenty minutes I couldn’t account for, as I my mind went both deep inside and outward as well. When I opened my eyes I grabbed my bo and walked over to Jon. He stopped what he was doing and we stood about four feet from each other. Then we started playing, with attacks and defensive movements.

      As an Asian weapon, the bo traditionally is not handled in the Robin Hood/Friar Tuck style with two hands along the center section of the staff. Instead, one hand goes toward the very end, and the other hand is held, perhaps, two feet in. The forward hand can whip the bo into position while the back hand anchors it and locks movements into place.

      Jon and I worked for the next thirty minutes on both attacks and defense. When we took a break, I asked, “What is the number one question a karate student asks?”

      “I see Captain Random is back.”

      I poked him with the bo. “Answer the question.”

      “How long does it take to get black belt?”

      “Okay, more specific. What is the most common question an advanced student asks. Think bo, sword, tun-fa, knife…”

      Jon paused, then, “What is Sifu’s favorite weapon?”

      “And the answer?”

      “Whatever’s in his hand.”

      “Correct.” With that, I went into my office, put my bo to the side, and came back with a pair of Chinese broadswords. “With that in mind, Number One, work on these.” I held the swords out, handles first.

      “Yes, Sifu.”

      Taking the weapons, Jon moved to the side and began working on a double sword form. I went back to my corner and started practicing a series of circular fighting moves. Ten minutes into this, I caught sight of the door opening and Katie walking in. I finished the routine and went to greet her. In her hand was one of those plastic bags with handholds cut into them.

      “Hey there, sweaty man.”

      “Hey there, gorgeous.” I kissed her. She was wearing faded jeans and a white cotton top with a frilly lace neckline and cap sleeves. “How’d it go this morning, wrestling those reports?”

      “They’re all subdued until tomorrow. Meanwhile, I have a present for you gentlemen. I brought you lunch.”

      “Lunch?” Jon heard the magic word and stopped his sword form.

      “So much for concentration,” I commented, not really seriously.

      “I stopped into Baum’s Deli in Pikesville, and picked up sandwiches,” Katie elaborated. “You guys hungry?”

      “Yes!” Jon responded before I had chance to even think about it.

      Katie pulled out a foil-wrapped sandwich, looked at some scribbles on the top, and handed it to me. “Corned beef for you.” She pulled out another wrapped sandwich, “bologna for Jon,” she handed him the second one, “and a hot dog with everything on it for me.” We moved over to the front wall, and the three of us sat on the floor. Not to leave anything undone, Katie pulled out a cream soda, a bottle of lemonade, and a bottle of sparkling peach juice for me, Jon, and herself respectively. For a minute there was silence as we each took our initial bites.

      “You can always bring me lunch,” Jon said. “What do I owe you?”

      Katie waved him off. “Next time.”

      The business of eating was serious, and we conducted it mostly without talking. In a few minutes we were relaxing with our backs against the wall when there was a knock at the door. I was on my feet before it had opened all the way. Henry Sakolsky, Josh’s friend who I had just seen at the bagel place, walked in.

      “Hi.” He looked at the three of us and at the drinks and food wrappers nearby. “Bad time?”

      “No, come in.” He stepped into the room and I introduced everyone: “Katie, Jon, this is Henry Sakolsky, a friend of Josh Mandel’s.”

      They nodded to each other and then there was silence. Sakolsky had something to say, but he was hesitating. He was just standing there.

      “This has nothing to do with your son wanting to take karate, does it?” I offered.

      “No.” He was still hesitating.

      “Katie and Jon know everything,” I added.

      Sakolsky turned to me. “You’re trying to find a reason for what happened Friday night, right?”

      “Yes.”

      “I know Josh...Rabbi Mandel. He’s really low key about some of the things he does. He didn’t tell you about his special work, did he?”

      “What special work?”

      “He rescues Torahs. A couple of times a year he goes around the world and retrieves Torahs that were confiscated or desecrated by the Nazis or by anti-Semitic communities. He brings them back, has them repaired, and finds congregations who can use them.”

      “He never mentioned it,” I said.

      “Like I said, he likes to keep this low key. He looks at it as holy work and doesn’t seek publicity. It’s truly an amazing thing he does, and the congregation supports it. The work is mind boggling, if you think about it...tracking down these lost holy documents, investigating their history, retrieving them, having them fixed.”

      I nodded.

      “The thing is, I know he runs into bad people sometimes…really bad people who give him a hard time. A few years ago he was beaten up in a barn in Poland after he paid an exorbitant amount for a panel of a Torah that had been discarded in a stable.”

      “Why?” Katie asked as she and Jon began to walk closer. “Did they want more money?”

      “They beat him because he’s Jewish. Because they wanted to show their contempt for what he does. But that hasn’t stopped him. So far, I think he has a 100 percent recovery record.”

      “And he didn’t think that incident was significant?” I asked.

      “He’s crazy like that. He doesn’t like calling attention to himself.”

      Jon responded incredulously: “He doesn’t like calling attention to himself!? I’d say he got someone’s attention.”

      I waved Jon off, but I was thinking the same thing. I was also very disappointed in both Shelley and Josh for not mentioning this, though I couldn’t have imagined what Josh could have done to warrant two guys