Rabbi Gabrielle's Defiance (16 page)

"I came to your service," Kye stated. "It was
more moving than spending time with my associates surfing the
Internet. I intended to go to our corporate office and join the
party there, but wanted to talk with you first. But you didn't come
out."

She was close enough to reach forward and
shake his hand. "Doc and I are waiting for the New Year here.
You're welcome to join us, Kye. I'm afraid this won't be as
exciting as connecting to the world through the Internet."

A warm smile expanded his lips and his eyes
enlarged behind glasses to correct for a mild case of astigmatism.
"Perhaps more exciting, that is in a spiritual way. I consider
myself a good Baptist, yet I found wholeness in your service. I
felt very comfortable, even though I didn't understand the
Hebrew."

"That's not unusual. Many Jews don't
understand Hebrew. Hopefully, they also feel comfortable." She took
his arm to squire him back down the aisle and simultaneously
reached with her right arm to gather Doc near. "The three of us
will enter this New Year together. If the company is good, the
journey isn't difficult. And I can't imagine better company
anywhere."

The first pew was her favorite, with
cushioned seating for five. Kye was on her left and Doc on her
right. Kye glanced down at his wristwatch to estimate the time left
of the old year and turned the dial in her direction to read. With
her index finger, she signaled there was a little more than an hour
and a half to midnight. Her arm hooked inside the arms of those
flanking her and pulled close.

"So there you are, Rabbi Gabby," a voice
accosted them from the rear. Doc and Kye turned to see who it was,
but Gabby did not. The voice she knew belonged to Chuck Browner.
Untangling her arms from those beside her, she stood to raise both
in greeting. "I thought you were hanging out with your friends. I
know you guys throw some awesome parties."

"I was," he said closing the distance. "But I
became quite emotional about what was going to happen. What time is
it?"

"Fifty minutes until the witching hour," Kye
offered.

"Good, I'm in time. When I thought about this
moment I knew I wanted to spend it with a close friend, not a group
of debauching men on the make or bunch of will-of-the-wisp lovers.
But with my friend, the one who has stood by me all these years. So
I asked myself, where would Gabby be at this moment. It was gamble.
Lucky me."

She planted a heartfelt kiss upon his check
and drew him into an embrace. "Thanks, Chuck. That makes me feel
very good. You're welcome to sit with us. You know Doc. Meet my new
friend, Kye Naah."

And so it happened. That is until they heard
the faint pounding of fireworks in the distance. Chuck was the
first to offer a kiss on Gabby's cheek and she, in turn planted
kisses upon Doc ad Kye. They passed over the divide into a new
calendar with their hands entwined. Another round of hugs sealed
their closeness.

At 12:12 a.m. they acknowledged that it was
time to break up and go their own ways. Chuck offered to drive Doc
to his apartment in Adams Morgan district and Gabby, to take Kye to
his van.

"Please don't bother," Kye said to Gabby.
"I'm parked only a few blocks away."

"I'm not going anywhere but home
tonight."

"You've already done enough for me. This has
been a special privilege."

The engine to Gabby's Volvo was idling near Kye's
Ford van. He was relaxed in the passenger seat, studying her
features as though inspecting computer code. Before alighting onto
the street, he reached across the seat to take her hand in a
farewell shake. When she accepted, he said, "There were tears in
your eyes this evening. You must be carrying some heavy baggage
into the New Year."

She was flattered he noticed. "For me, every
new year is special. I had a close friend who sacrificed his life
so I could live. Were it not for him, I wouldn't be here at this
moment. I try to carry his memory with me forward. I owe it to
him."

Such a confession was more than Kye
anticipated. "I hope I'm not being rude if I ask, was this a
romantic friend?"
Her dimples deepened in a coquettish manner. "I
guess so. Why yes, in a manner of speaking. We were extremely
close. Though it might have been different had he lived."

"That's a heavy load to bear. But then I
can't think of a better life to save than yours." He sighed aloud
before opening the passenger door to step out. "May I call you
later this afternoon? Our Internet party at
Politicstoday
will go on through the day until about
midnight. Perhaps I can persuade you to come and see what
technology promises for the future. We're located at the New
Carrollton Metro station on the Orange line. You could drive or
take the Metro."

"An intriguing offer. Can I email you after
some rest?"
"Absolutely."

CHAPTER FIVE

NEW YEAR, NEW WORLD

"The guillotine blade has fallen," were
Harold Farb's words as he reached Gabby by phone at 10:30 a.m. on
New Year's Day. "I promised Stan not to ruin your holiday, but felt
it wrong to delay any longer."

This is not what she wanted to hear, but
immediately understood the reference. "Has the Morgenstern family
filed suit against us?
"In the District Court, the morning of the
thirty-first. Stan Melkin phoned on Thursday night to say he
received a call from Marc Sutterfeld of Morrison and Grant to alert
him, as a courtesy between colleagues, you understand. I’m told
lawyers do things like that. They protect their client's interest
with ferocious partisanship yet behind the scenes maintain friendly
contact. In a city like Washington you never know when you will
need a favor or a referral from your collegial adversary. The
details you don't want to hear."

"Wrong, Harold. I need to see my attackers
before they swarm over me. What's the charge against
us?"
"Dereliction of duty. Gross negligence leading to bodily harm
and death."

"How much?"
Figures don't mean anything at
this stage. In a personal injury suit, there's little rhyme or
reason to the numbers. They're manufactured by thieves in the legal
profession to justify fees. Personal injury lawyers usually ask for
the equivalent of the national debt, then double it. Figures are
pulled from thin air. We all know that the death of a young girl
and the injury of another have no price tag."

"Stop beating around the bush. How much?"

"Forty-six million."

The number made her grunt. "If I lost a child
and had another injured for life, I'd probably think that a paltry
sum. There's no way I can ever afford that kind of bread. I'll
probably have to sell myself as a galley slave on the next
man-o-war sailing from Baltimore Harbor."

"This isn't your worry. It belongs to our
insurance carrier. If we lose, Dominion Mutual is going to have to
fork up the mulla."

"Will Dominion Mutual cover the synagogue,
too?"
"The first ten million. So that should give you a clue about
the settlement sum."

"Did you speak with Asa about this before he
left for his vacation?"
"No, I wanted to talk with you first."
"I'm
glad he's not here. Trying to contain secrets around Ohav is like
plugging a hemorrhaging dike with your toes. It's hopeless. Trust
me, I've tried."

"I could call his cell phone, but it can
wait."

The way rumors circulate in this city, Asa's
likely to get the wrong information. We're all going to have to
trust each other and face reality."

She didn't like the sound of that, but then
she didn't like the sound of anything relating to the situation. If
there is a redeeming feature in this tragedy, she hasn't discovered
it.

When Harold rang off, Gabby sat in her
kitchen staring out the window onto neighboring rooftops. So this
was her New Year's present. Does one tragedy necessarily lead to
another? Her gloom was pervaded by a yearning to escape. She had
survived one calamity after another, somehow landing on her feet. A
premonition haunted her that this time she would not be so
lucky.

Her phone rang again, but she did not rush to
answer. The caller was patient, waiting for her to relent, which
she eventually did.

"Hey, partner," the up-beat voice belonged to
Kye Naah. "You promised to read your email. We've worked up a
special presentation for you at
Politicstoday
. I hope you can come see it. No wimpy
cocktail parties for us. Come and be part of the new century."

She wasn't in the mood for celebrating, yet
the idea of brooding for the remainder of the holiday had even less
appeal. Friends had invited her to several New Year's receptions
which she had Chuck delicately decline. To explain her feelings,
even to old friends with refined sensitivities, was to reveal more
than she wanted. Kye's invitation sounded appealing.

"Okay, pal," she responded. "You've got
yourself a deal. I'll drive over. As usual, we've got another
crisis brewing and I may have to leave."

"Sure you know where we are?"
"You said at
the New Carrollton Metro. I've got your street address on your
brochure from the Greenbrier. In the Girl Scouts they taught me to
read a map."

"Come as soon as possible. There's no
receptionist, so just wander in and ask anybody for me. I'll be on
the lookout for you."

By noon, she had driven Capitol Hill onto the
Capital Beltway. The unsightly industrial zone around New
Carrollton was cluttered with large delivery vehicles and
tractor-trailers parked for the holiday and provided a venue for
morose thoughts. On the one hand, she was furious with the
Morgensterns. How could reasonable people blame the synagogue and
its dedicated rabbis for what was obviously not their fault? But
concurrently, she empathized with their pain. Allocating fault was
not only human, but, with such an overwhelming tragedy,
understandable. She pondered the best way to break the news to Asa.
The possibility of returning home to call Kye and beg out of his
party crossed her mind. Then place the fateful phone call to Asa.
But she also knew how slowly the wheels of Chancery would grind.
There was no reason to ruin Asa's holiday in order to wait for the
lawyers.

Metro East Business Park, a 700,000 square
foot corporate campus, was home to
Politicstoday.
Kye had selected the location in order
to be distant from what he considered the corrupting influences of
the capital and yet be near enough to keep close tabs on its pulse.
A dedicated advocate for public transport, he wanted his associates
to be within walking distance of a Metro station. But since the
majority of
Politicstoday
staff lived in
an adjacent office building, proximity to Metro was only a
secondary benefit.

When Gabby entered the building, she found
Kye's young associates lounging around after a marathon celebration
that had begun well before the New Year and had continued through
the morning for some fifteen hours. Rock music blasted from an
array of hidden speakers. Theatrical lights flashed in multiple
colors. Once past the foyer, she observed banks of computer
monitors hanging from the ceiling and flickering a potpourri of
abstract images. Clusters of young people were gathered under these
monitors with a designated individual operating a keyboard.

She corralled a dusty-blond woman in baggy
chino pants and a cowboy vest to ask about Kye, expecting her to
lift a phone and ask for his whereabouts. But instead she veered
left to the first unoccupied keyboard. An instant later Gabby read
a message scroll across the screen. "KyeN – visitor at station
23-1. LoraineY."

A few minutes later, Kye emerged from an
elevator, both hands extended to Gabby in welcome. "You made it
just in time for our linkup with Hawaii – the last outpost before
the International Date Line. Like us, all other locals have already
passed into the New Year.

In jeans, boots, and a cowboy shirt with
patch pockets, Kye blended into this workforce, calling little
attention to himself as he guided Gabby from department to
department, explaining how his "web community," operated.

"We're not millionaires like employees of
Google, at least not yet," Kye said. "Someday perhaps, when we
finally divide up the equity. But as of today, we're deep in red
ink. Technology is expensive. Fortunately, we have a dedicated
group of people working here, motivated largely by their dreams,
not their pocketbooks. Nobody can go to the grocery store with
stock warrants we've issued. We're forced to economize and share
our living expenses. Most of us live in the building next door. No
private rooms, just an open space and sleeping bags. Our only
luxury is membership in the P.G. Sport Club down the street. We
exercise and shower there. You can imagine Prince George's County
isn't wild about the idea. Our legal department, such that it is,
has managed to evade eviction several times."

A neophyte to the world of technology, Gabby
was awed by equipment and the expertise required to operate it. As
Kye explained,
Politicstoday
pushed the
election locomotive along an information highway. The frontispiece
motto for E M Foster's novel
Howard's End
adorned the elevator landings on each floor, "Only connect."

"That's what we're about," Kye explained
while squiring her through a corridor toward a large bank of
servers processing and distributing text, voice and video. An
elevator descended to the
South Pole,
where mammoth air conditioners pumped cool air over the machinery.
Gabby was impressed with the energy of technical staff, most of
whom had been up more than 24 hours. She couldn't imagine a better
place to escape from the brooding atmosphere of the synagogue.

Temperature in the basement was twenty-five
degrees cooler than on the ground floor. A swish of cold air
circulated from a raised floor. Monitors suspended from the ceiling
flashed portions of a New Year's celebration occurring virtually in
Honolulu. With Diamond Head Mountain as a background, fireworks
illuminated Waikiki Beach while crowds paraded along the sand,
scantily clothed. A band of electric guitarists pelted out
island-rock. A barefoot representative of
Politicstoday
was milling among others on the beach.
"I feel like I've been up for three days," the representative said.
"Got your transmission from the Washington Mall which we shared
with affiliates on outlying islands. Our people in Sydney started
nearly twenty-four hours ago and are still going strong. They said
there were so many boats on the water you could get from the Opera
House to North Sydney by jumping from one vessel to another."