The Houseguest by Kim Brooks

we know that, under normal circumstances, she is a good and remarkable woman. Dramatic, maybe, but we all carry bits of our work around in our daily lives. That’s what this American capitalism does. It makes your work who you are. Ana’s work is being dramatic. She’s caught on quick. All I want to check on is that she isn’t having any sort of allergy to your town or that the weight of what she went through—and this part I want you to think about carefully—isn’t causing her any undue grief.”
    â€œIf I knew, Shmuel.”
    â€œI understand. You want to lay eyes on her yourself, make sure all is in place. Don’t fret. Tend to your flock. Don’t waste your energies racing after this poor woman. Should you happen to encounter her, you can let me know. How does that sound, Max?”
    â€œFine, I suppose.”
    â€œYou and me, we’re men of action. There’s nothing harder for men like us to tolerate than those moments when nothing’s required of us. It’s another reason I’m calling you, in fact. I wanted to tell you more about our operation here, the Committee for a Jewish Army. It just so happens, you see, that at this particular moment, I’m in desperate need, we’re in desperate need, of a rabbi.”
    â€œA rabbi?”
    â€œTo take on a project for us.” There was a clattering in the background, people arguing. “Listen, Max. I’ll be brief. I’ve asked one great favor of you and now I’m asking another. All I can offer now is to say how much this demonstrates the esteem I hold you in. There’s a conference coming up in Chicago convened by the American Jewish Council, a gathering of Jewish leaders, organizers, rabbis from all over the country, all of them coming together to discuss the refugee problem, and I want you to attend as our representative. I had hoped to go myself, butit seems I’m not welcome, not American enough. I was wondering if you might go as my proxy, report back to me.”
    â€œSpy, you mean?”
    â€œCall it what you will, Max. You’d be doing a mitzvah. You have family in Chicago, no?”
    â€œMy sister.”
    â€œIt’s perfect then, don’t you think?”
    â€œI’m flattered, Shmuel. I am. But I don’t think I’m the man you’re looking for.”
    â€œJust do me this kindness and consider it, will you? You’d be doing us at the Committee a great service, not to mention the millions of Jews still trapped in Europe. If things continue on it may well be thousands by the time you go.”
    â€œI wish I could do it, Shmuel. But the timing . . . I’m behind on everything.”
    â€œYes, we’re all behind, aren’t we? That’s why we’re in this mess. Thousands are perishing as we speak because we’ve fallen so terribly behind.”
    Max felt a strange déjà vu, a falling back in time to Heidelberg, that other life. The man hadn’t changed at all in the years since Max heard him speaking before a group of Zionists, riling them up, rallying them forward. He did what he needed to do, asked what he needed to ask of people without a tinge of embarrassment, without an iota of fear that they’d say no or be offended. He wondered what it must be like to live that way. “Just like that?” Max said. “You say, ‘Go to Chicago,’ and I hop on a train.”
    â€œI knew you would understand, Max. I knew you were exactly the man for the job.”
    â€œI’ll think about it. That’s the best I can do.”
    â€œI’ll take it.”
    Max hung up the phone, sat at his desk for the next few minutes, not doing anything but reflecting on what five million people lookedlike. How many baseball stadiums of people? Five million seconds was a lifetime. Five million steps to walk around the earth. The phone was ringing again. He assumed it was Spiro calling back, that he’d forgotten