Rabbi Gabrielle's Defiance (10 page)

Anina phoned him at Ohav Shalom the following
Thursday afternoon to offer two symphony tickets she could not use,
then – after considering the prospect of a date with Asa – resolved
her scheduling conflict and called back to say that her own plans
had changed and she would like him to accompany her to the Kennedy
Center. The National Symphony Orchestra played Bach and Debussy,
two composers Asa felt readily lent themselves to his own brand of
re-composition
. On the way home that
evening, they stopped at the Stagedoor Bar for a drink where he
learned about her practice in plastic surgery. While Franklin
Terkenoff and she both boarded in reconstructive surgery for the
treatment of trauma victims, a good portion of their practice was
dedicated to the lucrative trade of refashioning noses, eyes,
chins, breasts and other parts of the human anatomy that displease
their possessors. Franklin admitted patients to George Washington
University and Sibley Hospitals, while she worked the trauma units
of Washington Hospital Center and Georgetown University
Hospital.

Two busy professionals had trouble finding
time for dating, so their relationship evolved slowly. Once they
began sleeping together normal tensions arose, and several that
weren't normal. Anina saw herself as a highly trained craftswoman
operating a lucrative business and expected handsome compensation
from her wealthy patients. In contrast, Asa exhibited little
interested in money or the luxuries it could buy, seemingly content
to live within his modest rabbinical salary and his music. That
such different personalities should be attracted Gabby attributed
to Nature's mysterious mating scheme that had something to do with
the distribution of different kinds of genes.

When Anina finally reached Asa on the phone at his
Chevy Chase apartment, he was sitting on the living room sofa
staring in distraction at the television set he hadn't bothered to
turn on. He let the phone ring four times before listlessly
answering.

"We had a date," she reprimanded with no
effort to disguise her annoyance.

"I'm sorry. It's been a nightmare at Ohav
Shalom. I didn't get any sleep last night."

"You could have called."

"What can I say? I screwed up. It's been
twenty-four hours in Dante's Inferno."

"It's still thoughtless."

"Two of our kids from the synagogue were
burned in a fire. One is likely to die. The other will be
permanently maimed. I taught both of them in the religious school.
It's been on the evening news."

This caused her to scale back her assault.
"Sorry to hear about it. I've been in the OR all day. Franklin took
his kids away for the weekend, so I've got to operate on his vanity
patients at Sibley Hospital. Let's go out for something to eat. I
feel like Tex-Mex food. How about Rio Grande?"

"I didn't sleep last night."

"I'm beat, too. Been on my feet all day. Had
to lose an hour waiting for the stupid Sibley staff to prepare an
OR. I know you like Tex-Mex food."

"Too depressed to eat."

"Then I'll pick up some Chinese and bring it
over. I know how to perk you up. I'll wear something
diaphanous."

"The way I'm feeling, I wouldn't be much fun.
All I want is sleep."

"You know how to hurt a girl. Here I throw my
body at you and you want to sleep. I turned down several
invitations to be with you this evening, Asa. I should get some
appreciation for that."

"I didn't mean to be rude."

Anina let herself into Asa's apartment to discover
him sitting at his 7-foot Baldwin piano, improvising in a minor key
and unaware of her presence. Reading from musical scores was
second-nature to him, but, all things being equal, he preferred to
let his fingers compose the notes. Some called it "playing by ear,"
but the terminology failed to satisfy him. In a strict sense he
didn't hear what he played. His fingers seemed to know by instinct
where to go on the keyboard. One harmony resolved into another. A
rhythm demanded a reflex response with little need to involve the
brain. Melodies, almost magnetically, attracted harmonies. When
tired, depressed or just killing time he could play for hours,
letting his mood, not his mind, choose the notes.

Anina lingered in the vestibule, envious of
his talent. While growing up in Phoenix, she had taken piano
lessons for four years and never managed to play anything that
wasn't written. When she stopped practicing, her fingers lost their
keyboard dexterity, leaving her envious of those who stuck with
it.

After a minute, she tiptoed into the kitchen
to put down a grocery sack filled with the distinctive squared
cartons from a Chinese restaurant. Dirge-like notes filled the
apartment. Eventually, she entered the living room behind him and
dropped her hands over his shoulders. His fingers remained on the
keyboard while he cocked his head to acknowledge her presence. "Hi…
sorry."
"Your music sounds like the world just fell in," she
said.

"It did. Gabby is still at the Hospital
Center."

Though indifferent to religious observance,
she admired Gabrielle Lewyn for her success in what was once a
private rabbinical club reserved for men. "I'm sure she is very
helpful there."

"No. The family rejected our help. We were
thrown out of the ICU like drunks turfed from a bawdy saloon.
Gabby's probably still in the waiting room, twiddling her fingers.
I shouldn't have left her but couldn't sit there any longer."

"Franklin and I have done several
reconstructions at the Burn Center."

His fingers caressed the keys softly. "They
say Tybee Morgenstern is going to need a lot of reconstruction on
her face and torso. Have you done that?"

"Of course. During my residence at Denver
General the police would bring in stabbed and gunshot victims. The
Highway Patrol helicoptered in burn victims from carnage on the
roads. After ER docs stabilized them, we had to rebuild faces and
appendages. Most of our patients were losers to begin with."

Asa's fingers pressed harder on the keys,
drowning out the cold detachment in Anina he didn't want to
acknowledge.

She spoke over his music. "Sounds like you're
feeling sorry for yourself. I sure hope that isn't the case."

"It's humiliating. Gabby and I went there to
help but there isn't much we had to offered, especially when the
Morgenstern family is so angry at me."

"They don't blame you for what happened, do
they?"

“I think so. We haven't talked directly. The
aunt and uncle snarled like Doberman pinschers. They said some
pretty nasty things."

"If I were trying to help someone and they
rejected my offer, I'd walk away. Who needs people like that? The
trick is to stay focused on good people. Leave the scum in the
dust."

Asa increased volume on the Baldwin.

"What do you say about some food? Got chicken
lo mein and the vegetarian egg rolls you like. I know there's beer
in the fridge."

He shook his head. "I'm too depressed."

"Pardon me for being a Jewish mother, but I
don't recall reading that starvation is the treatment of choice for
depression. I won't tell you that food is important for the spirits
because I don't think it is. But I can tell you that I'm so hungry
I could eat stir-fried cocker-spaniel and would appreciate some
company."

He withdrew still further into himself
without replying.

"Asa, I learned this lesson in college and
it's probably the soundest I know. Don't try to be reasonable with
unreasonable people. You go to the zoo, right? And you stand in
front of the chimpanzee cage, right? You select what looks like the
most intelligent ape and explain to him the fundamentals of
arithmetic: two and two equals four; four plus four equals eight.
This intelligent-looking chimp doesn't seem to absorb incontestable
facts, but instead becomes restive and spits through the cage.
Bull's-eye. His spittle lands right in your eye. Now comes the
hardest question. Who's the fool? The chimp? Or you?"

He stopped playing, resting his hands on the
keyboard in exasperation.

"So?" She repeated. "Who's the fool?"

"I made a career mistake. I'm not up to this
job," he blurted suddenly. "Gabby's different. She's made of steel.
But that isn't me. I need to re-train for something else. All those
years at rabbinical school. What a waste!"

The shrill ring of the telephone interrupted
his thought. He felt inclined to let it ring, but Anina was trained
not to resist a phone. A moment later she brought a walk-about
receiver to the piano.

"Where are you?" Asa opened up as soon as he
recognized Gabby's voice.

"In my car. Janean's gone, Asa. While I was
in the waiting room I heard a Code Blue on the hospital intercom. A
lot of doctors rushed into the ICU. I tried to find out what has
happening, but there were too many hospital people around the
nursing station. It was mayhem. Then suddenly voices quieted. I
could hear David wailing but couldn't see him."

"Did you say a prayer at least?"
"It wasn't
necessary. Chaplain Kornen arrived and they made room for him to
enter. Clearly, the family didn't want me. I didn't make a fuss
about it."

"What about Tybee?"

"A resident said she's okay."

"Does she know about her sister?"
"I don't
know."

"Will they want us to conduct the
funeral?"
"I doubt it. We'll offer, of course. But this family
doesn't want us. Not now and not for the funeral. They prefer to
deal with Reverend Kornen."

"Gabby," he said, smelling garlic and sesame
from the kitchen. "Come over to my pad now. Anina has just brought
enough Chinese food to feed Mainland China."

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

"That's the way I feel. Like someone hit me
with a sledgehammer in my gut. But you need to talk and, unless I'm
missing something, I'm your best bet."

"Hold on. I've got some heavy traffic coming
up and gotta pay attention; otherwise you'll be peeling me off the
roadway with a scraper," she replied. "Stay on the line."

When her voice returned, Asa said, "Gabby, I
need to talk with you. Come, please. We can make a mess together
with chopsticks. Where are you?"
 "On Mass Avenue, headed
home."

"Come here. You don't need to be alone at a
time like this. We'll put the
lo mein
into
the micro-oven to keep it warm."

"Eat it now, friend, otherwise it will get
soggy and there's absolutely nothing worse on this entire planet
than soggy Chinese noodles."

"Perfect. Soggy noodles in soy sauce for a
soggy spirit. We're expecting you in about fifteen minutes."

Two zombies was the way Anina interpreted the
behavior of Asa and Gabby, who had little interest in food, though
both drank from a half-gallon jug of cheap California red he had
stashed behind cartons of stale breakfast cereal. They picked at
the slippery Chinese noodles, barely conversing enough to be
sociable.

Anina, who thought of herself as a pragmatic,
upbeat personality, concluded that spending a Saturday evening in
such somber company was a waste of time. She'd rather crawl into
bed and fall asleep watching TV. After washing the plates, she
looked for a reason leave. Asa had left the kitchen and returned to
the piano, staring down at the keyboard, his index finger plucking
a melody from Prokofiev's Seventh Symphony which soared almost two
octaves before resolving. She followed him to the piano where she
claimed her back was hurting after a long day bending over an
operating table.

The moment Anina let herself out of the
apartment, Gabby poured herself more wine and returned to the
living room, saying, "I don't even like red wine."

He stopped the Prokofiev melody in
mid-bar.

"Please continue playing. I love your music.
It's the only thing that makes sense in a situation like this."

Asa’s fingers preferred the raised black
notes over the neighboring whites. The Fiev theme enlarged with
harmony and syncopation.

He leaned over the headboard, looking to
Gabby very much like a nightclub musician. "You're good at the
job," he said. "As good as any I've seen on the pulpit. But I'm a
different personality. I've got to get out now before I'm trapped
forever."

Alcohol made her dizzy as she stepped to the
foot of the piano. He remained seated – gaunt, fragile, withdrawn,
staring down at his fingers slipping along the keys with detached
agility, the kind of movement that would make most piano students
mad with envy.

"I don't want to lose you, Asa," she said
with crystal clarity, not revealing how tipsy she felt. "Things are
bound to look brighter when this is over. I beg you not to make
rash decisions. We all have low moments. Getting thrown out of the
ICU was the pits. And it isn't going to get better in the near
future. We've got to answer to a lot of people. They already know
the answers to their questions, but they'll pose them anyway. And
the two of us will have to stand up and somehow appeal for reason.
I can't do it without you, friend."

"You don't have to," he hit a staccato cord
and held his hands high over keyboard until they came to rest on
the music stand. "Let people go at my throat. I'll be the
kaporah
. There's no purpose in you going
down with me."

"It's not going to happen that way. It's
together or not at all. Whatever you did, I did too. Whatever you
said, I said. The rabbis at Ohav are not individual players; we're
a team that pulls together. I'm declaring this by fiat and I refuse
to debate the issue with you or anybody else. I'm the boss of this
shul
, and that's the way it's going to be.
You're not dissociating from me, Asa. That's absolutely final."

The uncharacteristic dictatorial eruption
stole his response.

"Now I'm asking you for a personal favor, a
very personal one. Please don't rush to any decisions about your
career. A month or two makes no difference in a lifetime. And don't
talk to friends, except your closest confidants. Despite their good
intentions, friends will only confuse you. I know; I've been there.
They mean well, but they can't begin to sense our predicament. The
answer is inside you, not them. Of course, you can always talk to
me. Always, Asa."