torturing Louis with stories of how evil his father was.” Henry chuckled and continued, “That woman is the single most deranged individual I have ever met.”
“And that includes himself,” Mendel said to Jacob, who had listened intently to the horror stories they had just shared with him about this hired gorilla who was going to find Jeffrey and deliver him for God knows what.
“You know, Jacob, you should write a play about him and his mother. That would surely sell tickets,” Henry said.
Jacob swallowed hard and said through a cracking voice, “I’d love to. Maybe I could meet them one of these days.”
Mendel broke into laughter and said, “Oh my dear little titsellah, you do not want to meet either one of them, but especially the mother. Cloris is a piece of work that should have been condemned.”
“And they thought that the Nazis were bad,” Heinrich exclaimed, and he and Mendel broke into riotous laughter.
Jacob sat uncomfortably in his chair, thinking of the stories that they had just shared with him, and worried that perhaps he might be involved in the eventual murder of Jeffrey. Or even worse, he knew if he ever displeased his new boss, he too would someday become the hunting target for Louis Grecko.
Chapter Fifteen: Zion
Mayor Elmo Baker was busy locking up his home goods store for the evening before heading over to the town hall. This was an exciting time for the citizens of the small town of Zion, New York. Word had spread that a real-life, honest-to-God celebrity was about to join their midst, and word had it that he was going to use his time to write yet another in his long line of successful plays; perhaps, he would use their little town as his muse.
Whatever the reason, Baker had organized multiple town meetings to see to it that the people of Zion made him feel welcome without smothering him. It was important that he was able to gradually coast into life in this small and peaceful town nestled in the crook of one of New York’s Finger Lakes—Lake Keuka to be exact.
He checked the lock to see that it was holding, even though Zion had little to no crime rate to speak of, and he kissed his fingertips and rubbed his brand new mezuzah that he had just recently hung on his doorpost.
All around him, the town of Zion was beaming with excitement and joy at the arrival of Jeffrey David Rothstein. Word had come as quite a shock that a man of his stature and celebrity would choose their out of the way hamlet to take up residence, but Mayor Baker was also confident that their guest would soon consider Zion his new home.
He began walking up what was once called Main Street and was now referred to as Abit El Lane. Most of the streets and cul-de-sacs had been renamed with Yiddish, Hebrew, or historically Jewish names, so that their new brother would feel at home. Surely a man, no less a Jewish man from New York City, would feel honored by the fact that his new place of residence had embraced his culture so deeply and had even gone through the trouble of imposing a town wide observance of the Sabbath.
All of the traditional laws were being obeyed: no handling money, no turning on lights or television, no turning on the stove, and no driving in cars. It was a bit of an inconvenience at first, but they had made due by transforming the town hall into a community bed and breakfast and hired the few citizens who refused to embrace their new culture as house goy.
These were the Christians in the town who refused to change their pork-eating, Christ-worshipping ways and refused to acknowledge that the Messiah had not, in fact, arrived yet. They were hired by the good Jewish people, reformed, of Zion to do household chores during the Sabbath so that the God-fearing, circumcised citizens of the town would not have to break tradition for anything.
As he walked down Abit El, Elmo noticed how the town sparkled with the proud colors of the Jewish people, how every store had an Israeli flag in the window,
“And that includes himself,” Mendel said to Jacob, who had listened intently to the horror stories they had just shared with him about this hired gorilla who was going to find Jeffrey and deliver him for God knows what.
“You know, Jacob, you should write a play about him and his mother. That would surely sell tickets,” Henry said.
Jacob swallowed hard and said through a cracking voice, “I’d love to. Maybe I could meet them one of these days.”
Mendel broke into laughter and said, “Oh my dear little titsellah, you do not want to meet either one of them, but especially the mother. Cloris is a piece of work that should have been condemned.”
“And they thought that the Nazis were bad,” Heinrich exclaimed, and he and Mendel broke into riotous laughter.
Jacob sat uncomfortably in his chair, thinking of the stories that they had just shared with him, and worried that perhaps he might be involved in the eventual murder of Jeffrey. Or even worse, he knew if he ever displeased his new boss, he too would someday become the hunting target for Louis Grecko.
Chapter Fifteen: Zion
Mayor Elmo Baker was busy locking up his home goods store for the evening before heading over to the town hall. This was an exciting time for the citizens of the small town of Zion, New York. Word had spread that a real-life, honest-to-God celebrity was about to join their midst, and word had it that he was going to use his time to write yet another in his long line of successful plays; perhaps, he would use their little town as his muse.
Whatever the reason, Baker had organized multiple town meetings to see to it that the people of Zion made him feel welcome without smothering him. It was important that he was able to gradually coast into life in this small and peaceful town nestled in the crook of one of New York’s Finger Lakes—Lake Keuka to be exact.
He checked the lock to see that it was holding, even though Zion had little to no crime rate to speak of, and he kissed his fingertips and rubbed his brand new mezuzah that he had just recently hung on his doorpost.
All around him, the town of Zion was beaming with excitement and joy at the arrival of Jeffrey David Rothstein. Word had come as quite a shock that a man of his stature and celebrity would choose their out of the way hamlet to take up residence, but Mayor Baker was also confident that their guest would soon consider Zion his new home.
He began walking up what was once called Main Street and was now referred to as Abit El Lane. Most of the streets and cul-de-sacs had been renamed with Yiddish, Hebrew, or historically Jewish names, so that their new brother would feel at home. Surely a man, no less a Jewish man from New York City, would feel honored by the fact that his new place of residence had embraced his culture so deeply and had even gone through the trouble of imposing a town wide observance of the Sabbath.
All of the traditional laws were being obeyed: no handling money, no turning on lights or television, no turning on the stove, and no driving in cars. It was a bit of an inconvenience at first, but they had made due by transforming the town hall into a community bed and breakfast and hired the few citizens who refused to embrace their new culture as house goy.
These were the Christians in the town who refused to change their pork-eating, Christ-worshipping ways and refused to acknowledge that the Messiah had not, in fact, arrived yet. They were hired by the good Jewish people, reformed, of Zion to do household chores during the Sabbath so that the God-fearing, circumcised citizens of the town would not have to break tradition for anything.
As he walked down Abit El, Elmo noticed how the town sparkled with the proud colors of the Jewish people, how every store had an Israeli flag in the window,
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