The wedding in Amsterdam was grand. Kushner, aunts, uncles, and cousins upon
cousins were represented aplenty, and nearly every Orthodox Jew in Holland attended.
Zohar
fasted on the day of his wedding. He
delivered a homily on the Mishnah the night before, and was
jovially questioned about the passage by his father-in-law and the assembled men.
He had knowledge of the Law, and he expounded
upon it, even as his mind raced through procedural protocols, of instructions
and observations that Ori Zohar was still making beneath the surface of Levy
Levinsky.
As he spoke of the forbidden conjunction, he was
scanning the room of black hats and coats, noting what he deemed important from
an intelligence gathering standpoint.
Ori Zohar and Levy Levinsky fought a soundless confrontation across a
divide which Ori could almost see before him, the space between two worlds.
Following
the wedding festivities Zohar sat down to the mountain of cards and cables
offering congratulations. Cables arrived
from the Argentina
office of Kushner & Sons, and from Ganaver Chasidim in Europe
and Israel. One arrived which was not in Yiddish, but
English:
Mazel tov.
Long Life and Many Children – N & O
Zohar
presumed this was Nadab and Omri. Was it
a joke? A true sentiment expressed
circuitously? An acknowledgement that
he, Ori Zohar, the orphaned agent, would stop at nothing to find the location
of Yossi Kushner, even entering into a “sham” marriage?
But they did not know that he was no longer
Ori Zohar. His entire short, unhappy
life he had been on the periphery of things important: with his shut-in
grandfather, on the kibbutz, where his solitary ways ran against the grain
of the collectivist ethos. Here, among
the Ganaver, he was central, a vital part of something which was interconnected
from nearly every angle and circumscribed by a clear, visible boundary.
During
the wedding, Zohar was introduced to several young boys named Yossi
Kushner. Some were above or below the
correct age, but many were in the right range, and bore a resemblance to the
photographs Zohar had studied. Despite
Zohar’s attempts, he was playing a double-game even at his wedding. He found six boys who could very well be
Yossi Kushner.
After
he made love to his wife for the first time, he contemplated what would be
necessary to investigate this congregation of Yossi Kushers, to dig deeper
beyond the facade of things. But then
Bluma’s hand reached out to his, and she grasped it ardently. Levy Levinsky touched her, and they kissed
deeply.
Only
after Nadab signaled for a meeting at an Amsterdam
hotel and he ignored it did Zohar suspect that Zohar was finally dead.
He disregarded the request to see what would
happen. A week later another message
came. With more conviction, Zohar
ignored it as well. For sometime nothing
happened at all. Levy Levinsky felt a type
of foundational satisfaction, but on the periphery of this feeling, he sensed
insecurity, as if the world around him was watching him with multiple and
unblinking eyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment