Sacred and Profane. Faye Kellerman

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      “Happy to be home?” she asked them as they went inside.

      The boys nodded.

      “I’ve got surprises for you both. They’re on your beds.”

      “Oh boy!” Jake exclaimed, heading for the bedroom. Sammy lagged behind.

      “Shmuel,” she said, holding his arm, “is everything okay?”

      He nodded.

      “Something’s bothering you.”

      “I’m fine, Eema. I’m just tired.”

      “Okay,” said Rina, disconcerted at his evasion.

      He gave his mother another hug, then trudged off to the bedroom.

      “What happened?” she asked Peter as soon as they were alone.

      “Could I have a cup of coffee, Rina?”

      “Uh … Uh. Of course,” she said. “Sit down, Peter. You look exhausted.”

      He took a seat on the left side of her brown sofa, letting his head flop back against the cushion, then ran his hands over his face.

      “Why are the boys upset?” she asked.

      “It’s complicated. But everyone’s fine.”

      “Okay,” she said. “Relax. I’ll make coffee and then you can tell me what’s going on.”

      Her house was tiny—800 square feet crammed with mementos—tchatchkas, she called them. Display cases full of Jewish figurines, propped photos, and sketches of Israel. The white walls were dotted with landscapes of the Judean dessert, charcoals of the Old City of Jerusalem and the Wailing Wall, and photos of the Lower East Side of New York. Hanging above the sofa was a magnificently colored and elaborately scrolled Hebrew document—her wedding contract, her ketubah.

      That’s what a Jewish marriage is, she had said. A contract. You’re supposed to know what you’re getting yourself into.

      But do you ever really know, he had wondered out loud.

      Emotionally, of course not. But a ketubah spells out the specific obligations for a husband as well as a wife. You’ve got to remember that back then, most societies considered women things—objects. The idea that a man was accountable to his wife was revolutionary.

      Her entire east wall was the family gallery—snapshots of her parents, and her brothers and their families, pictures of her sons as infants and toddlers clumsy in bulky diapers, and antique sepia portraits of her grandparents and great-grandparents in gilt frames. And the wedding pictures—Rina and Yitzchak under a canopy holding a shared wine glass. The groom was looking directly at the rabbi, his eyes intense and serious. He’d been a handsome young man, Decker thought, lean, with even, strong features. But Rina was the focus of the photograph—a stunningly beautiful girl with sapphire eyes and gleaming ebony hair that fell to her waist. She was dazzling as a bride. Whenever he looked at the picture, he felt a twinge in his chest.

      His eyes drifted from the photo to the overflowing bookcases. She owned some secular books, but most were religious—Hebrew and Aramaic books of prayer, law, and ethics that were double and triple stacked on the shelves. She had skimmed through some of them, she had told him, but Yitzchak had known them all by heart.

      Rina came back with black coffee for him and a milk-laced cup for herself. She sat down, tucked her legs under her denim skirt, and brushed midnight silk out of her eyes.

      “Now,” she said. “What happened?”

      “Everything’s okay,” he started out. “Sammy went exploring in the woods and came across a couple of human skeletons—”

      “What?”

      “It scared him, of course. It scared Jake, also, but they’re okay,” he said.

      “What’d they do?”

      “They asked a lot of good questions and I answered them. Kids do well with the honest approach.”

      “Was it disgusting?”

      “It was graphic.”

      “What’d they ask you, Peter?”

      “They acted pretty characteristically. Jake seemed more interested in the bones per se. How did they get there? Did the bad man who dumped them still live in the city? Is he going to kill us—”

      “Dear God, I’d better talk to him—”

      Decker held up the palm of his hand and continued.

      “He watched the police procedures, and it was good for him. Gave him a sense of resolution. He’s not the one who took it to heart.”

      “What’d Sammy say?”

      “Sammy had a more adult concept about the whole thing. He talked about death—how the rabbis approached it. I think it was a speech he’d heard in the past. It may have brought back some painful memories.”

      “Did he mention Yitzchak?”

      “Not by name. He did tell me that Jews aren’t buried in airtight coffins—that their bones disintegrate into dust. Reading between the lines, you could tell what he was thinking.”

      The room was silent for a moment.

      “I’ll see how they’re doing,” she said quietly.

      Decker nodded. She left the room and he slowly sipped his coffee.

      It had been six months since he’d first stepped onto the grounds of the yeshiva, entering an alien world governed by laws codified thirteen hundred years ago. He’d been the detective assigned to a brutal rape that had occured outside the mikvah—the ritual bathhouse—and Rina had been a witness. As the investigation unfolded, it became clear that she’d been the intended victim all along. By the time the perpetrator was caught, their lives had become permanently enmeshed.

      And now was the endless period of waiting. Long hours of studying that he hoped would lead to commitment. But often he wondered if this was what he really wanted. If Rina had never entered his life, he wouldn’t have changed. But she had, and he felt as if he were trapped between floors in a stuck elevator. His past seemed remote, his future uncertain. Some people found uncertainty exciting. He considered it a giant headache.

      He closed his eyes, attempting to rest, and opened them only when he heard Rina reenter the room.

      “They seem all right,” she said. “Jakey recounted everything in gory detail. He said the bodies had been burned.”

      She looked at him for confirmation and he nodded.

      “That’s repulsive,” she said shuddering. “He also said you were assigned to the case.”

      “It’s called being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

      “Can’t СКАЧАТЬ