The Masada Complex by Avraham Azrieli Page A

cancer.
    He let go of the door and grabbed both her shoulders. “Elizabeth, I understand the hesitation, with your traditional upbringing and all, but these days a lot of career women do it later in life, after they’ve achieved everything else. Go for it! What do you care if some kindergarten teacher thinks you’re Grandma?”

     
    Rabbi Josh Frank stood at the foot of his wife’s grave, finishing the Kaddish. “ He who makes peace in heaven, He will bring peace upon us and upon all his people of Israel, and we say, amen. ”
    The others repeated, “Amen.”
    The rabbi kissed the top of his son’s head. “Thank you all for joining us today. It warms my heart to know that Linda’s memory brings together the Temple Zion community, even after five years.” He pointed to the round wreath on top of the stone. “Thank you Marti and Esther Lefkowitz for the beautiful red roses—Linda’s favorite.”
    The florist and his wife nodded in unison.
    “I prepared something to say.” Hilda Zonshine unfolded a piece of paper and put on her reading glasses. “I remember when our rabbi brought Linda to Temple Zion the first time, I told Al that she was the best-looking redhead I have ever seen. And my husband agreed with me, which was rare even before he became MIA from home.”
    On the other side of the grave, Al half turned, showing his back to his wife, and mumbled, “Damn right.”
    A few people snickered. It was common knowledge that they had separated a few months ago after he became obsessed with Masada El-Tal.
    “Linda was beautiful on the outside and the inside,” Hilda continued. “She became part of our congregation, always available to help with family celebrations or with sad events. I remember how gracious she was when I woke her up at four in the morning because a member of my household had nightmares and needed to talk to the rabbi.”
    This caused chuckling around the gravestone.
    “I miss Linda, but she’s with God and all the other righteous people who are too good for a world where people hurt each other.” Hilda glanced at Al. “But at least we have our rabbi and the baby.” Choked up, she placed an age-spotted hand, laden with cheap rings, on Raul’s head.
    “Thank you,” Rabbi Josh said. “Now, as Raul is turning five today, he prepared a speech.”
    Raul looked down at the gravestone. “Dear Mom.” He filled his lungs for the next sentence. “I don’t know you, but I love you, and my hair is red like yours. I mean, like yours when you were, you know, alive.” He looked up at his father. “I’m starting kindergarten next month, but I already know letters. Also numbers. My dog’s name is Shanty and she’s a golden retriever.” He inhaled deeply. “But I think Daddy misses you, because you are not here anymore. So, that’s it for now, okay?”
    Everyone laughed and wiped tears.
    Rabbi Josh picked up his guitar. It had been his custom to conclude the memorial by singing. He closed his eyes, allowing Linda’s face to appear in his mind.
    “ A woman of valor, who can find?
    Greater than pearls, her worth,
    her husband’s heart trusts her,
    he never lacks in wealth;
    She pours goodness upon him, none bad,
    all the days of her life. ”
    Rabbi Josh could sing no more. He continued strumming while the group hummed the familiar tune.

     
    Elizabeth drove back to the office in a daze. A baby! At first she had thought Dr. Gould was wrong. With multiple abortions many years ago, several surgeries on her abdomen, and rare, irregular periods, she had long accepted her infertility. David himself had seeded her weekly for five years without results. Why now?
    The answer came to her just as the light turned green at Third Street and Osborn. This was no coincidence. Her subconscious mind sensed their true commitment, a safe future for a child! “ Allah hu Akbar ,” she whispered in awe of the great God she had not worshiped in decades.
    Elizabeth parked at her assigned spot and stepped out