Stalker (17 page)

She could ask Dad about Roseanne Barkley. Dad knew all the cases under his auspices. But then he’d start asking the questions. Which meant she’d eventually have to get into the Camry. It was unfair to drag him into her affairs on his Sabbath. Let the man have one day of rest.

She could ask Oli—But he was out with Hayley.

There was Marge. True, it was her weekend and she was off same as Cindy’s dad. But Friday wasn’t any holy day for her, and Cindy knew she could talk without Marge going postal. Sometimes during the course of the evening she’d pull Marge aside. If this Roseanne woman had been a carjacking victim, Cindy owed it to her colleagues to let them know about the Camry. She stashed the notebook in her purse and looked up from the kitchen table. Rina was observing her with a look on her face.

Cindy said, “I’m fine and so is your broccoli.”

Rina checked the vegetable and gave it a quick stir. “Perfect. Your father’s worried about you.”

“Dad’s always worried about something.”

“Yes, but this seems different. Is everything okay?”

Before Cindy could answer, the doorbell rang. Rina said, “That must be Marge and Vega.”

“I’ll do the honors.” Cindy got up. But by the time she got to the door, Jacob already had his fingers wrapped around the knob. He had grown, too, not quite as tall as his brother, but on his way there. His dress shirt was untucked from his pants, the tassels of his prayer shawl peeking out from under. Black slacks and black loafers. His fingers raked through wet black hair, then secured his yarmulke to his head with a bobby pin. “Hi,” he said to her.

“Hi,” Cindy answered.

Jacob opened the door. He looked at Marge, then down at Vega. Though she was thirteen, Vega was small as well as small-boned. Her mocha-colored skin was smooth and stretched over wide cheekbones. Her blue eyes were always observing and evaluating.

“Hi, Jacob,” Marge said. “This is my daughter, Vega.”

The teenager cracked a smile. It opened up his face, gave him some life. “Hi. Come on in.”

Vega regarded him with a grave expression. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

No one moved. Finally Marge said, “You can go in.”

Vega took a tentative step forward. As soon as Marge was in hugging distance, she reached out and embraced Cindy. “How’re you doing?”

“Good.”

“No one taking potshots at you?”

“Not today.” Cindy blushed.

Jacob said, “What’s this?”

“Nothing,” Cindy said. “Happened a long time ago.”

“That makes sense. No one ever tells me anything.” Jacob moped. “Can I get anyone some water or something?”

“We’re fine, thanks.” Marge took Vega’s hand. “You can sit down.”

Vega was still taking in her surroundings.

“Have a seat on the couch, Vega,” Marge said.

But the girl was reluctant. Jacob spoke to her. “Marge told me you play chess. I’ve got to go to shul…to temple. But after dinner I’ll play you a game if you want.”

Vega was wide-eyed. “You go to a
temple
?”

Jacob said, “Uh, it’s not like
your
temple was. It’s a temple for Jewish people. I’m Jewish. Do you know what that is?”

“It is a religion.”

“Yes. It’s my religion.”

Vega looked at Marge, then at Jacob. Marge said, “You can ask questions, Vega. It’s fine.”

“I have a request,” the petite teen stated. “I’d like to go with Jacob to the temple.”

Marge felt a wave of guilt. In her enthusiasm to introduce Vega to modern America, she hadn’t given religion a single thought. Almost an atheist, Marge rarely thought
about God. But in this moment of epiphany it was clear how much Vega had missed her spirituality.

“Is that okay, Jacob?” When the boy hesitated, Vega picked up on his reluctance. “It is okay if you do not prefer it.”

Rina walked in. “Hello, hello, hello!” She hugged Marge and smiled at Vega. “How are you, Vega?”

“I am fine, Rina, thank you very much. You have a lovely house.”

“Thank you.” Rina had spent time with Vega many times before, but this was the first time the child had been in the new house. “I hope you’re hungry because I made a lot of food.”

Vega smiled, but her eyes were sad.

Jacob said, “She wants to go to shul, Eema.”

“Who?” Rina asked.

“Vega,” Jacob answered.

“I see it is a problem for me to go,” Vega said. “I will stay here.”

“No, it’s no problem,” Rina said. “It’s just that men and women sit separately and I usually don’t go to services Friday night.”

“If that’s the only problem, I shall sit by myself,” Vega said. “I do not mind.”

“Services are in a different language,” Rina said. “If you go, I’d like someone to be there to explain everything.” She turned to Marge. “If you don’t mind watching Hannah and the rack of lamb, I’d be delighted to go.”

Marge said, “I don’t mind at all.”

Vega’s face lit up. “Do you pray there?”

“Yes, we do lots of praying.” She turned to her stepdaughter. “You’ll keep an eye on your sister and the food, too?”

“Marge and I’ll be just fine.”

Sammy came rushing through the door. “Made it with four minutes to spare. You ready, Yonkel? Where’s Dad? We’re late.”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Decker came out of the bedroom.

Vega looked at the three males. “Is it your religion to have your hair wet when you pray?”

The three broke into laughter. Vega looked terrified from what she assumed was a horrible faux pas. But then Rina put her arm around her. “No, you don’t need wet hair to pray. But it sure looks like it. We can’t shower tomorrow, so people often take a shower right before the Sabbath. Sometimes they don’t have time to dry their hair properly.” To Decker, she said, “I’m going to shul.”

“You are?” Decker asked.

“Yes. Vega wants to come. Marge and Cindy will watch Hannah. Yaakov, tell your sister to turn off the TV. It’s time to light candles. You want to light a candle for the Sabbath, Vega? I have extra.”

“If that would be all right,” Vega said.

Marge felt more pangs of guilt. In one minute, Rina had developed more rapport with Vega than she had in six months.

“I’ll light, too,” Cindy blurted out.

Decker stared at his daughter.

Cindy stared back. “I am Jewish, you know.”

Rina sensed tension. “You want to come to shul, Cindy?”

Cindy knew Rina was trying to be inclusive. But their Orthodox synagogue always made her feel so ignorant. She had trouble following the text and had to take her cues about standing from everyone else. Still, she knew more about Judaism than Vega. If the teenager was brave enough to forge into foreign territory, what the hell was her problem?

Then again, if she stayed home, she could talk to Marge about Roseanne Barkley and the stolen plates.

But wasn’t it good to take a break from work once in a while? And maybe she did owe a higher source a couple of thank-yous. She’d been pretty remiss in her gratitude of late.

Rina was talking, “…tell you what. Why don’t we
all
go?”

“Me?” Marge said, pointing to her chest. “Are you kidding?”

“We’re wearing pants,” Cindy remarked.

Rina answered, “No one will care. I think it would be nice…if you don’t mind the food being a little overdone—”

Sammy said. “Eema, it’s
late
.”

“So go. We’ll catch up.”

“No, we’ll wait for everyone,” Decker announced. “I want to go as a family…for once.”

Sammy groaned. “Hannah’s not even dressed.”

“Get her dressed.”

“I’ll get her dressed,” Cindy said.

Rina said, “Let the boys get her dressed, Cindy. We’ve got to light candles.”

“I don’t want to hang anyone up,” Cindy said.

“Not at all. Go light candles. We’ll wait for you.” Decker gave Vega a friendly smile. “It’ll give us a chance to dry our hair.”

Dinner wasn’t burned
. In fact, Decker found it gourmet and fabulous—vegetable soup with beef bones, tabbouleh salad with mint leaves, rack of lamb, barbecued chicken, broccoli, roasted rosemary potatoes. Yes, the food was superb, practically the only thing about the meal that
was
commendable. Cindy was upset about something but trying to hide it, Marge was low and trying to hide it, Sammy was cracking wise, Jacob was sullen, and Hannah was grumpy from the long walk home. A cranky crew except for Vega, who was floating as they walked back from shul. Never had Decker heard a kid ask so many questions. Coming from Vega—who rarely spoke, let alone initiated conversation—the queries were especially surprising. They were all about religion and directed to Rina, no doubt why Marge was feeling low.

For the first twenty minutes everyone ate and complimented Rina’s cooking. Then once again Vega started barraging Rina with questions. One after another until Marge broke in. “Vega, honey, give Rina a chance to catch her breath.”

To everyone’s surprise, Vega giggled. Marge was visibly flabbergasted. It was the first time she had ever heard the teen laugh.

Rina said, “I know you’re curious, Vega. Maybe some other time we can sit down and talk about this in more detail.”

Vega played with her tabbouleh salad, piling grain after
grain into a precarious mountain awaiting the avalanche. “I am very curious about the animal sacrifices of your holy book…the ones that Sammy wrote about.”

Curious
was quite the understatement. During the services, Marge was constantly shushing an overly enthusiastic Vega, who, with profound discovery, kept pointing out sentences in the Jewish prayer book. She still recalled the teachings from the cult in which she’d been brought up.

Our father Jupiter had quoted us this very passage, Mother Marge. So this religion is related to ours
.

I don’t know about that
.

But it must be
!

Shhh
…

How else would father Jupiter come across these exact words
?

Perhaps he read the prayers
—

Or was truly God’s chosen. Perhaps God told him the words as well as the Jews
.

Marge had wanted to scream,
He cribbed them, Vega, what do you think
? But as she was in a house of worship—as a guest no less—she restrained herself. During the services, she had been as restless as a tomcat. To combat the uneasiness, she devised mental ways to stay calm, studying the room as if it were a crime scene filled with suspects.

Rina alternated between praying and baby-sitting. She kept doling out her gold jewelry to Hannah to keep her quiet. The little girl used them as toys, trying them on, then preening to an imaginary audience. It kept her occupied, and that was good. Except that she kept dropping Rina’s bracelet. It drove Marge crazy, but Rina took it with equanimity. Cindy, to Marge’s surprise, prayed with great intensity. There was definitely something going on with her.

As for the men? Well, she had no idea about the men. The entire time, they had been hidden from view behind a series of makeshift screens that separated the men from the women. The walk home was refreshing, except for Vega’s questions, which were becoming increasingly annoying. Once seated at the table Marge thought that
Vega would calm down. But, in fact, it was just the opposite. The girl was on a roll and that was that.

Vega said, “I find all the Jewish prayer books truly fascinating.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” Jacob said.

Decker glanced at his stepson. Up until six months ago, Jacob had been a behavioral dream. Easygoing and outwardly smiling, he had been a model child—except that he had been dabbling in drugs and had underperformed in school, getting C’s when he should have been pulling A’s. Then certain things had come out, which had led him into once-a-week therapy. Within a couple of months he had sworn off drugs and his grades had skyrocketed, but so had his moods. He still wasn’t as contentious as Sammy, but he had developed an expertise at eye rolling, scowling, and slamming doors. He had turned from a nice but self-destructive kid into a saturnine teen slowly making his way in the world. Decker knew the latter was better than the former, but sometimes the attitude was hard to swallow.

Vega said, “Rina, why would a God so strong and so powerful need animal sacrifices?”

Marge put down her fork. “Vega, enough!”

All eyes went to Marge. The teen blushed and turned her head.

Sammy stuttered out, “Actually, it’s a very good question.”

Vega glanced at him, then looked at her lap. Hannah was sulky. “I’m bored. Can somebody read me a book?”

“I’ll read you a book,” Jacob said. “I’m bored, too.”

Again Decker’s eyes shot to his son, wondering if he should reprimand his rudeness. Luckily, Rina jumped in with a glare.

Jacob remained calm. “Just trying to put myself in Hannah’s place, Eema. She must find this conversation completely stulti—”

“Thank you for being helpful, Yonkel,” Rina interrupted. “We can do without the editorializing. You can finish your dinner first.”

Jacob shrugged, then began to nibble lamb off the bone.

“You know, if I eat another bite, I’ll explode,” Cindy said. “If it’s okay with your Eema, I’ll read you a book, Hannah Banana. I haven’t spent any time with you and that’s not good.”

Hannah looked at her mother with expectant eyes. Rina nodded.

The little girl clapped her hands. “Will you read me two books, Cindy Mindy Bindy?”

“Sure.”

“Six books?”

“Now you’re pushing it—”

“Four?”

“Maybe—”

Decker said, “Hannah, pick out the books first. So Cindy can see how
long
they are before she commits—”

“How long could a child’s book be?”

Decker said, “To her,
Charlotte’s Web
is one book.”

“Oh.” Cindy frowned. “Let’s pick out the books together.”

Rina got up from the table and began to clear. Decker stood, holding a platter of lamb. He’d be brown-bagging it in style for the next couple of days. Marge stood, too.

Decker said, “Margie, you are a guest.”

Abruptly, Vega blurted out, “Why is that a good question?”

Marge looked at her. “What is?”

“Sammy said that my question about animal sacrifices was a good one. May I ask why it was a good one?”

Marge was about to sigh heavily, but Decker took her arm. “Actually, you’re much more like family than a guest.” He handed her a tureen of potatoes. “Take this into the kitchen. Let Vega and Sammy hash out the sacrifices.”

“Do you mind?” she asked Sammy.

“Not at all.” He grinned. “Gets me out of clearing the dirty dishes.”

Decker pulled Marge with him. When they got to the kitchen, Rina smiled at Marge. “She’s just curious—”

“Never talks to
me
like that.”

Rina said, “Kids are very different with their parents.”

“
Completely different
.” Decker spoke softly. “People say such nice things about how well the boys behave. I swear they must be talking about aliens because they couldn’t be talking about my sons.”

“They’re not
that
bad!”

“Not to you, Rina, which is good,” Decker said. “There really is something about this father-son conflict. Furthermore, it’s complicated by the fact that I’m not their biological father—”

“I don’t think that’s a big issue,” Rina broke in.

“Of course it’s an issue. Sammy planned his whole year in Israel around it.”

“Gush is a good yeshiva—”

“Gush is the yeshiva his father went to. Discussion closed. No matter that I think it’s dangerous. What the hell! I only pay the bills around here.”

“Where should I put this, Rina?” Marge was still holding the tureen.

Rina took it and placed it on the counter that had been specified for meat dishes. To Decker, she said, “I’m sorry if he’s giving you a hard time. He gives me a hard time, too.”

“I know he does. And I’m not complaining. I love Sammy. He’s a terrific kid. He’s wonderful. He’s just…”

“He has a mouth,” Rina said.

“He’s getting better,” Decker said. “I had a mouth, too. If you don’t mouth off to your parents when you’re a teenager, there’s something wrong.” He turned to Marge. “Which brings us to another issue. As Vega feels more and more comfortable with you, she’ll get more and more opinionated.”

“That would be wonderful!” Marge said. “The problem is, she doesn’t talk to me. I’d love to have debates with her—”

“Be careful what you wish for, Marge,” Rina stated.

Decker nodded. “Kids like heroes who are not their parents. You could say one thing, Rina could say the exact same thing. Vega will process your words differently than
Rina’s. Did you ever get hold of Dexter Bartholomew, by the way?”

“God, what a piece of work he is!” Automatically, Marge felt her muscles relax. Work was known territory. “There’s so many things that are off with that guy, I don’t know where to begin.”

“Off as in weird? Or as in suspicious?” Decker asked.

“Very weird and somewhat suspicious. He kept monopolizing the conversation.”

“How so?”

Rina broke in. “People, can the moratorium on business at least extend until after dessert?”

“Sorry,” Marge said.

“My fault,” Decker said. “I’m incorrigible.”

“Yes, you are,” Rina agreed.

“Eema?” Sammy cried out.

“Oh God!” Marge exclaimed. “I left her too long with Sammy. He’s going to kill her.”

“You’re projecting,” Decker said under his breath.

They all went back into the dining room. Sammy said, “Maybe you can help. I’ve been explaining to Vega the reasons behind the biblical sacrifices. In Hebrew, the word
korban
—sacrifice—doesn’t literally mean sacrifice. The root word comes from the word
to become close
. An offering to God is not for His sake, it is for our sake. God doesn’t need offerings. But by sacrificing to God, it draws us closer to Him.”

“Killing an animal draws you closer to God?” Marge was dubious.

“Closer to your insignificance,” Rina explained.

“I don’t need a sacrifice for that,” Decker said.

“Poor Dad,” Sammy said. “Are you feeling beleaguered?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure you can change all that.”

Rina went on. “We don’t butcher our own meat. It’s done for us, and by the time we buy it, everything has been sanitized. That’s not how it should be. You should think about what went into the meat. That something living died
so that you could eat it. I think if we had to slaughter our own cows, we’d all be vegetarians.”

Vega said, “So why does your religion advocate eating meat?”

“It doesn’t advocate it, Vega, it just allows it,” Sammy said. “It’s not the ideal.”

“Although it’s very tasty,” Decker added.

“Mankind was vegetarian before the great flood,” Sammy said. “You know about Noah and the flood?”

Vega shook her head.

Sammy said, “We were supposed to be vegetarians. The fact that we’re not is a flaw. But God recognizes man as a flawed creature and allows us to eat meat. But only if we think about it. That’s why there are so many Jewish rituals involved in the slaughtering of meat.”

Rina said, “When Jews sacrificed to God, there was a covert message that they were thanking God for letting us live. The animal’s life was in their hands just like their lives were in God’s hands. Killing animals for food—even if it’s permissible—is supposed to remind us of our vulnerability. Knowing your own limitations and mortality brings you closer to God.”

Cindy came back into the dining room. She must have been listening in, because she picked up on the conversation. “It’s true. Being vulnerable does make you reevaluate your significance in this world.”

Decker gave her a questioning look. Cindy shrugged and said, “She wants to play Fish, Rina. I told her I’d ask you.”

Rina looked around the table. “Is Jacob with you?”

Cindy nodded.

“What
is it
with that boy?” Rina muttered to herself. To Cindy, she said, “Tell her that Eema says only a few games. No more than that, Cindy, no matter how much she begs.”

“When she acts up, I’ll give her back to you. That’s the beauty of being a big sister.”

Vega was squinting, looking very grave. “Sacrifices are very interesting! Perhaps I should take notes.”

“I find sacrifices disconcerting,” Marge said. “If killing is wrong, why not outlaw it?”

Rina said, “The Jewish way incorporates human weakness by ritualizing it.”

“Not
all
human weakness,” Decker said.

“Well, not adultery, if that’s what you meant,” Rina said.

Decker smiled.

“But there are lots of sexual things that are ritualized,” Sammy said.

“Like the mikvah?” Decker said.

“Well, that. But I was thinking about
eshet yafat toar—
”

“What’s that?” Decker asked.

“I’ll explain it to you later,” Rina said. “We’re going way off field. Sammy, go get your brother and finish clearing the dishes.”

“I will help you clear,” Vega said to Sammy. “I am in the same age range as you. We can discuss this further while I wash the dishes and you dry them. That way Jacob can rest with his sister.”

“I agree, Eema,” Sammy said. “I’ll pick up the slack. Leave Yonkie alone. He’s wiped.”

“Why?” Rina asked.

“He’s studying for the first time in his life.” Sammy handed Vega a bowl of salad. “Take this into the kitchen.”

As soon as the table was free of kids, Marge slumped in her seat. She said to Rina and Decker, “She exhausts me! I’m not cut out for heavy conversation. It’s too spooky.”

“No argument there,” Decker said.

Marge sighed. “I’d better supervise in the kitchen. I wouldn’t want her to tire Sammy.”

Rina said, “Marge, I have to fix dessert anyway.” She started stacking dirty dishes. “You stay and talk to Peter. I insist.”

Marge knew she should get up and assert her role as mother, but she couldn’t bear the idea of talking about God again. “Actually, it would be nice.”