who commanded many languages and had been educated at both the University of Berlin and the Sorbonne, in addition to his Torah scholarship. Rabbi Weissman had told Paul that many Lubavitchers believe that this Rebbe was to be the last before the coming of the Messiah, and Paul had found it intriguing that a man as intelligent as Rabbi Weissman could accept this. In fact, Paul found most of what the rabbi had to say intriguing.
“But as you know, vone can never know too much of anything,” the rabbi added, “there is alvays room for improvement. I vant Paul to be perfect. After all, it is as much a reflection on me as it is on you, yes?”
Alfred had known from the moment they’d met that Rabbi Weissman was a hard man to bargain with. Initially, the rabbi’s unassuming presence had Alfred thinking he was a push-over. Just tell him that I’m not interested in my son having a private tutor, Alfred had said to himself, and that will be that. But by the time their first meeting in the Hebrew School classroom had ended, Paul had a tutor for three hours each week, and at twenty dollars for each of those hours.
“I’ll have to discuss it with my wife. I’m not sure if she has plans for the weekend.” Alfred felt a bit embarrassed at having flaunted his non-observance of the Sabbath in the rabbi’s face. The rabbi didn’t think twice about it; he was a true Lubavitcher, believing that every Jew has a hidden desire to return to “God’s way.” That’s why he schlepped, each Sunday, from Brooklyn to the Five Towns to teach children like Paul. Not solely for the money—as Alfred had thought—but to bring the children closer to Yidishkeit , to Judaism, and thereby hasten the coming of the Messiah. True, the modest salary of a Talmud teacher in the Lubavitcher Rabbinical Seminary was not enough to support his wife and daughter, and give the required ten percent to charity. But Rabbi Isaac Weissman, a survivor of the Nazi death camps, in which he’d lost his first wife and son, was motivated by more than money. And his interest in young Paul was deeper than Alfred could fathom.
“Of course you vill,” the rabbi responded, knowing full well that Alfred usually couldn’t care less about his wife’s opinions. “And please apologize to her for me, I’m so sorry to have avakened her. I vill hold on for a few minutes vhile you talk to her, yes?”
Not exactly what Alfred had planned. “To tell you the truth, she’s only half awake right now. It would be best if I discuss it with her later when she’s more coherent.” The rabbi knew Alfred was lying, that most men lie when they begin a sentence with “to tell you the truth.”
“That vill be fine. Better yet, I vill call her myself, later. There’s no reason vhy you should apologize for me. The Talmud teaches us that each person must seek his own forgiveness, there are no intermediaries, yes?”
Alfred was speechless. The rabbi was outsmarting him once again.
“Anyvay, I vill call you back again tomorrow morning, a little later of course. Maybe after the morning prayers, around five minutes to eight, yes?” The rabbi knew that Alfred left at eight. He also figured that stating an exact time would prevent Alfred from avoiding the call. It was an appointment, and missing it would be an insult.
The two men ended their conversation as cordially as it had begun. Alfred hung up and stared into space for a few seconds. Evelyn tried to get him to tell her what was going on, but he was lost in thought, wondering what the rabbi was after.
CHAPTER 7
“Hey, Peanut, wait up!” Celeste called. Joshua was surprised to see her. He was already twenty minutes late for school, and she was always in school on time.
School had started less than a month ago. Loretta usually left around six, and had entrusted the Eisenmans, the elderly Jewish couple next door, to get Joshua out of the house. They were doing their best.
He stopped and waited for Celeste to catch up.
“But as you know, vone can never know too much of anything,” the rabbi added, “there is alvays room for improvement. I vant Paul to be perfect. After all, it is as much a reflection on me as it is on you, yes?”
Alfred had known from the moment they’d met that Rabbi Weissman was a hard man to bargain with. Initially, the rabbi’s unassuming presence had Alfred thinking he was a push-over. Just tell him that I’m not interested in my son having a private tutor, Alfred had said to himself, and that will be that. But by the time their first meeting in the Hebrew School classroom had ended, Paul had a tutor for three hours each week, and at twenty dollars for each of those hours.
“I’ll have to discuss it with my wife. I’m not sure if she has plans for the weekend.” Alfred felt a bit embarrassed at having flaunted his non-observance of the Sabbath in the rabbi’s face. The rabbi didn’t think twice about it; he was a true Lubavitcher, believing that every Jew has a hidden desire to return to “God’s way.” That’s why he schlepped, each Sunday, from Brooklyn to the Five Towns to teach children like Paul. Not solely for the money—as Alfred had thought—but to bring the children closer to Yidishkeit , to Judaism, and thereby hasten the coming of the Messiah. True, the modest salary of a Talmud teacher in the Lubavitcher Rabbinical Seminary was not enough to support his wife and daughter, and give the required ten percent to charity. But Rabbi Isaac Weissman, a survivor of the Nazi death camps, in which he’d lost his first wife and son, was motivated by more than money. And his interest in young Paul was deeper than Alfred could fathom.
“Of course you vill,” the rabbi responded, knowing full well that Alfred usually couldn’t care less about his wife’s opinions. “And please apologize to her for me, I’m so sorry to have avakened her. I vill hold on for a few minutes vhile you talk to her, yes?”
Not exactly what Alfred had planned. “To tell you the truth, she’s only half awake right now. It would be best if I discuss it with her later when she’s more coherent.” The rabbi knew Alfred was lying, that most men lie when they begin a sentence with “to tell you the truth.”
“That vill be fine. Better yet, I vill call her myself, later. There’s no reason vhy you should apologize for me. The Talmud teaches us that each person must seek his own forgiveness, there are no intermediaries, yes?”
Alfred was speechless. The rabbi was outsmarting him once again.
“Anyvay, I vill call you back again tomorrow morning, a little later of course. Maybe after the morning prayers, around five minutes to eight, yes?” The rabbi knew that Alfred left at eight. He also figured that stating an exact time would prevent Alfred from avoiding the call. It was an appointment, and missing it would be an insult.
The two men ended their conversation as cordially as it had begun. Alfred hung up and stared into space for a few seconds. Evelyn tried to get him to tell her what was going on, but he was lost in thought, wondering what the rabbi was after.
CHAPTER 7
“Hey, Peanut, wait up!” Celeste called. Joshua was surprised to see her. He was already twenty minutes late for school, and she was always in school on time.
School had started less than a month ago. Loretta usually left around six, and had entrusted the Eisenmans, the elderly Jewish couple next door, to get Joshua out of the house. They were doing their best.
He stopped and waited for Celeste to catch up.
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