Recap: Sarit comes over and asks a lot of questions. Something drops to the floor and it’s an ID for someone wearing a hijab.
That was a close call when that girl Evie saw my ID. I was clumsy to have kept it in my pocket. I hope she believed my story about finding it on the street.
Rabbi Berson was seated on a reclining chair and began his session. “So, go ahead and ask any question you would like. I will try my best to answer, and if I don’t know, I will look it up or get back to you. Judaism encourages questions.”
“I want to know about pets,” the woman named Lisa said. “We have a pet cat. Is it true we must feed her before we eat?”
“Yes, there are many rules about not causing tzaar baalei chayim, pain or trouble to animals. You can drink first, but you must feed your pet before yourselves.”
“Is hitting an animal not permitted?” I asked.
“If hitting it causes pain, then it is not permitted.”
“But why?” I persisted. My father beat animals all the time. “Animals are there to serve us.”
“That may be true,” Rabbi Berson answered patiently, “but they are living creatures, and Hashem wants us to respect all life. We should not cause pain to Hashem’s creations.”
The members of the Jones family had a lot of questions about kosher products.
I wanted to know something else. “How is kosher meat different from, say, halal meat?” I asked.
“It’s a different way of killing the animal, and also certain kinds of animals are not permitted in the Torah,” Rabbi Berson said.
After an hour, the Jones family prepared to leave, and I also said thank you and headed out the door.
I still didn’t have the information my father required. He was growing impatient, and that meant he might be in one of his moods. I wasn’t looking forward to that, but I dared not come home too late. That was something that would truly infuriate him.
My phone buzzed. “Where are you?” my father’s voice was low and angry.
“I’m on my way home now.”
I heard the sound of a dog whimpering.
I walked down a long dark alleyway. We were staying in the basement of a two-family house.
I turned my key in the lock. My father was kicking the dog.
I thought for a second of what Rabbi Berson had said about not causing pain to animals.
I didn’t dare to say anything. He was in one of his moods.
“I am not a patient man. Why can’t you find out where that woman is located?”
“No one speaks of it.”
“Ask the daughter.”
“She doesn’t know.”
My father slapped my cheek. He mimicked, “She doesn’t know.” He kicked the dog again. The dog cried in pain and scampered under a table. “They are growing very impatient in Gaza, and you know what that will mean. We must get the information. I can’t wait much longer. You find out.”
“I did find out that there were some men in a black car who pulled up before the Sabbath. A man named Herb came in and said they’re trying to locate the dog.”
“Those idiots. FBI agents. Idiots!”
“I will try again tomorrow, Father. I am sorry.”
I went into my bedroom and closed the door.
I would have to be more persistent about asking where the mother was. I had to find the information for my father.
…
The next morning, I rose early. I laid out my little rug and prayed for Allah’s help. I would need it to get the information Father required. I knew that the Bersons were running some sort of charity event at the rink. That girl Evie would be there. I would mosey over there and see what I could find out. Maybe the mother, Mrs. Berson, had called or would call.
Father claimed there might be a journal or some book with the information in the house. I’d searched the house late at night when everyone was sleeping. So far, I haven’t found anything.
Rabbi Berson greeted me when I strolled into the rink.
“You planning to skate for us too, Sarit?” he asked.
I hadn’t planned it, but that was a good subterfuge. I went over to rent skates. The rink was full of people skating for the skatathon and the regular public session.
Kids were laughing and skating. The ice was already quite rough.
Evie was in the middle, doing her spins and tricks. I envied her fluid motion. I would never be able to do anything like that. I’d never even skated before. I wobbled over to the entrance of the rink in my rented skates and gingerly entered.
Rikki skated over to me. “Sarit, I didn’t know you were coming. How nice.”
“Glad to help with a good cause,” I said. How easily I could lie.
“It will help families with an ill member. It’s a really good cause.” She started off and called over her shoulder. “I have to skate ten times around to get my pledges. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” I said. I grabbed onto the wall and tried moving forward. I tried to make it to the next exit, where I stepped off and plunked down on the nearest bench. I’d wait and watch. After the ten times is when I’d pester Rikki for more information about her mother or the possible journal. The Bersons were so forthcoming and so naïve – such easy targets, I mused. You just had to ask…
It must have been on her fifth or sixth revolution around the rink when the accident happened. I wasn’t paying close attention, but suddenly I saw Evie skating towards someone on the ground. I stood up and saw Rikki was lying on the ice.
A guard had skated over. Rikki sat up and held her leg. She was moaning in pain. The sound reminded me of that dog Junie after Father hit her.
“What happened?” I heard the guard ask Rikki.
Rabbi Berson was there and helped his daughter to stand. “I can’t put my leg down, Aba. It’s killing.”
He had her lean all her weight on his shoulder and carefully brought her to the nearest bench. I removed the rented skates and then strode over to them.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Rikki shook her head. Tears streamed down her cheek. “Aba, I didn’t finish the ten times.”
“Don’t worry about that. The main thing is you should feel okay. I’m calling an ambulance.”
“What happened?” Evie was seated near her friend, holding her hand.
“A boy was skating in the wrong direction. He totally knocked me over. I don’t think it was on purpose.”
She winced and held her leg.
I realized that this accident was going to make it harder for me. How would I get the information now? Rikki was not in shape to talk to me about her mother.
“This is the boy who knocked you over.” The skate guard came over with an accident report and a teenage boy who looked terrified.
The teenage boy stuttered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. Are you gonna sue me? Don’t tell my parents. They’re in the middle of a big divorce. It will only make things worse for my family and—”
“Are you Jewish?” Rabbi Berson asked the boy.
“Why?”
“Just wondering.”
He nodded slowly.
“Tell you what. We won’t file any grievance against you or even have any ill will.”
Rabbi Berson looked towards Rikki, hesitated, and then she nodded even as she winced in pain.
“There’s one condition.”
I waited. I was sure he would ask for a pile of money. That’s what my father would have done.
“What is it?” the boy mumbled, looking down at his hands.
“That you come to our house for a Friday night dinner.”
Rabbi Berson handed the boy a card.
To be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of Captured (Menucha 2025), an historical fiction novel, Please Be Patient (Menucha 2024), Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishing 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers 2022) , A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishing 2021), Secrets in Disguise (Menucha Publishers 2020), Denver Dreams, a novel (Jerusalem Publications, 2009), Memorable Characters…Magnificent Stories (Scholastic, 2002), Befriend (Menucha Publishers, 2013), The Road Less Traveled (Feldheim, 2015), fiction serials and features in Binah Magazine and Binyan Magazine and “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022) and Alaskan Gold ( 2023-2024).
