Monday the Rabbi Took Off by Harry Kemelman Page B

professional “and the thrust is only in one direction.”
    A neighbor who was interviewed said he understood the victim had been working on something that would have been of great value to Arab farmers.
    An editorial heatedly attacked the psychology of the terrorist which led him to regard his nefarious attacks on innocent civilians as waging war.
    The rabbi returned the newspaper to the rack, paid for his coffee, and left the cafe. He had overcome his momentary impulse to hurry home to search the apartment on the chance that a small black plastic box had been left there. He wondered if Miriam knew about the explosion and whether she was frightened or concerned. And if not, if he should tell her. But as he walked along, he realized that she was sure to know. She and Gittel had gone to the supermarket to shop. People would be talking about it, and even though the talk would be in Hebrew. Gittel would understand. And Gittel would tell her and. if necessary, calm her. It was two o’clock now, and on the streets people hurried as though they all were late for an important appointment. The stores were either closed or closing, the proprietors obviously also in a hurry. On one corner there was a booth where flowers were being sold; only here was the shopkeeper still doing business. But he, too. was busily trying to service the three or four customers who were waiting impatiently. The rabbi joined the group and bought a bunch of carnations. Then he too hurried home.
    Miriam and Jonathan were there when he arrived, but Gittel had gone. “Uri usually gets a weekend pass,” Miriam explained. “Naturally, she wants to be home to receive him. I suggested that she try to get word to him through the Army people to come to Jerusalem instead of Tel Aviv, but I guess even Gittel couldn’t manage that.”
    “Did she try?” asked the rabbi.
    “No. as a matter of fact. I gather she considers it unpatriotic to bother the Army with unimportant requests. The Army is sort of sacrosanct over here.”
    “It must be if she didn’t try to manage it.” he said dryly. “Oh, but she’s a good soul. David.”
    He looked surprised. “But of course. I think she’s grand. I don’t mind her managing. She comes of a long line of matriarchal managers, all the way from Devorah to Golda. It’s a tradition with us. In the shtetl, while the men studied, the women ran things.” He smiled. “You’ve got a little of it yourself, you know. I’m only sorry Gittel is not with us to celebrate our first Sabbath in Israel.” He handed her the flowers and kissed her. “A happy Sabbath.”
    He wanted to ask if she had heard the news, but Jonathan came running into the room. “I was in school. Daddy, and I’m going every day – with Shaouli from upstairs.”
    “That’s fine. Jonathan.” He touched his hair affectionately. “And how did you like school?”
    “Oh, it was all right.” Then with special excitement: “You know, the kids here, they don’t know how to throw a ball. They kick it. With their feet.”
    “Well, that’s mighty interesting.” He wanted to say more. He wanted to question his son about the school. He wanted to ask Miriam how she had spent the day. But he could not; he was too tired.
    “I walked all over the city,” he began by way of explanation.
    “Why don’t you go and lie down for a while, David, and catch a nap? I did.” Miriam said, “and I felt wonderful afterward.”
    “Yes, I think I will.” He hesitated. “Did you hear about –”
    She quickly turned to make sure Jonathan was out of earshot. “Yes, but let’s not discuss it now. Go and lie down.”
    He had no sooner kicked off his shoes than he fell asleep. It seemed only a few minutes later when Miriam awakened him. “You’d better get up now. David. It’s our first Sabbath in Jerusalem, and I think we should eat together. Besides. I don’t want to keep Jonathan up too late.”
    He sat up with a jolt. “What time is it?”
    “It’s seven