Tuesday The Rabbi Saw Red

CHAPTER TWENTY

The rabbi arrived home shortly before noon to find an impatient Malcolm Selzer waiting for him. "Your wife said you'd be along any minute,” he said. "Besides, my wife was so sure you'd be able to do something I didn't have the heart to tell her I'd missed you."

"Just calm down. Mr. Selzer, and tell me what's on your mind."Selzer looked at him gratefully, then took the seat the rabbi offered. "Well, Friday I heard the news same as everybody did, and I'll admit I had this little funny feeling maybe my Abner might be mixed up in it." He held up a hand. "I don't mean that I thought he could do anything like a bombing, a thing like that. I know my boy, he wouldn't hurt a fly. But I thought maybe he knows about it, maybe some group he could be connected with— You know how you think, how all kinds of funny ideas can come into your head?"

"Of course. Take your time and tell me what happened." Selzer nodded. "All day Saturday, I thought of calling Abner. You know, not asking him point-blank, but just how's tricks, what's new, that way, if he was involved he could say something. It wasn't so much me as my wife who kept nagging me. 'Call him up; you got a son; talk to him once in a while.' And to tell the truth, I would have, except I was afraid it was like asking for it. My mother, may she rest in peace, always used to say, 'Don't start anything,'"

"Like tempting fate," said the rabbi with the ghost of a smile.

"That's right." Selzer said, pleased that the rabbi understood. "So I suggested to my wife we go to the movies. You know, to give us something else to think about; besides, I know she's not going to ask me to go out in the middle of the picture to make a phone call."

He looked off into space as if marshalling his thoughts, then he continued. "I thought maybe we'd go out for a cup of coffee afterwards, like we always do, but my wife insisted we go right home, like her heart told her, as soon as we drive up to the house, I know there's trouble because the light in the kitchen is on, which means Abner has come home, and why would he come home on a Saturday night if he weren't in some kind of trouble?

Nevertheless, my wife tries to act as though nothing happened. 'Have you eaten, Abner? There's some chicken left. Let me make you a sandwich, he's so thin. Look how thin he is. Malcolm.' Of course, this doesn't fool anybody; not me, not Abner, not even herself, she's just stalling, putting off the time when we'll have to ask him why he came home. But me, I'm a businessman and I don't horse around. So I put it to him straight: 'Are you in trouble, Abner? Are you involved in this bombing?"‘ Selzer raised a forefinger to call for special attention.

"'Involved.' I said. Rabbi. Not did he do it. I just asked him if he was involved. What's involved? Anybody can be involved. If it's my son, I'm involved. My wife is involved, the police are involved. It's no crime to be involved."

He shook his head sadly. "That started it, he starts yelling I don't trust him, he comes home and all I can think is he must have bombed the school or done some terrible crime, that I'm part of the Establishment and the Establishment is trying to suppress the non-Establishment and they're trying to make this a decent world and my generation is not letting them, and how we use the pigs to keep them in line. By pigs he means the police, you understand."

Selzer got up and began pacing the room. "He yells and I yell. I suppose, and my wife cries, and after an hour of it I know as much as I did before. Finally, we all quiet down, and I say to him nice, quiet, calm. 'Look Abner. I'm not accusing you. I'm just asking, not because I'm nosy but just because I want to help. Do you want me to get in touch with my lawyer?'" He rapped the coffee table with his knuckles. "This table answered me? That's how he answered me. Not a word, like suddenly he's deaf and dumb, he just sits there smiling a little to himself like it's all very funny, and then he finally speaks. What does he say? He says. 'I think I'll hit the sack. Tomorrow could be a long day.' And he gets up and goes to bed, and my wife? She opens up on me. Why did I talk to him that way? Why can't I believe in him? Why am I driving my son away from us? You know, my wife. God bless her; for her, Abner can do no wrong. Whatever he wants, give. Whatever he does, fine. When I try to get him to shape up, to study, to act like a responsible citizen, she accuses me of nagging him, he was an honor roll student in high school, so if I want him to get good grades in college, that's nagging him. Why was he on the honor roll? Because I kept after him. I'm in business and I know what it takes these days for a young man to make it. You don't go to a decent college, you're nothing these days. So he gets into Harvard, that was bad? That was nagging? And if he had lived at home, like I wanted, instead of in the dorm, like he wanted and his mother went along with, he'd still be in Harvard right now, that would be bad? I tell you. Rabbi, the trouble with kids these days is their parents don't nag."

The rabbi had not interrupted because he sensed Selzer wanted to talk, but now he brought him back sharply to the main issue. "So what happened. Mr. Selzer? Why did you come to see me?"

"So this morning," said Selzer in a flat monotone, "the pigs came and took him away. Who were the pigs? Lieutenant Tebbetts, who was his scoutmaster, who Abner would talk about so much I would get practically jealous, he was the pigs."

"In that case, I think you had better get in touch with your lawyer, Mr. Selzer."

"Two minutes!" cried Selzer. "Two minutes after my son was out the door, I contacted Paul Goodman, and half an hour later he came by— he wasn't even dressed when I called— and picked me up and we went down to the police station."

"And?"

"And nothing. My son wouldn't even talk to me, or to Goodman. Just. 'Oh, it's you.’ This is the way a boy talks to a father, Rabbi?"

"So what did you say?"

"Nothing! I was embarrassed in front of Goodman. So I didn't show I was sore. I didn't holler at him. I didn't say anything, just told him this was Mr. Goodman who would be his lawyer, and I left them together. But later, when Goodman came upstairs— we saw him in his cell in the basement, you understand— he said the boy had refused to cooperate."

"But he agreed to defend him?"

"Oh sure. What's he got to lose? He won't be sitting in jail." He got up when Miriam entered the room. "Look. I'm keeping you from your dinner. I just came to ask you to go and see him. Talk some sense into him. I know he thinks a lot of you from when he was in your post-confirmation class, he'll listen to you."

"He must’ve been terribly hurt." said Miriam after Selzer had left.

"What do you mean?" asked her husband. "By whom?"

"By his father, of course. Suppose there was a rumor that you had done something terrible, something inherently abhorrent to you, and suppose if instead of knowing you could never do such a thing. I asked you if the rumor was true. You might sit down and patiently explain how unlikely it was. On the other hand, you might feel so terribly hurt, especially if you were a youngster of Abner's age, that you just wouldn't say anything."

"Yes. I see what you mean."

"Go and see the boy., David."

"And tell him what?"

She smiled. "You could tell him to try to forgive his father, I suppose."