Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

Chapter Four

At the Maiden bowling alley the manager reported a cracked plate-glass window. “It must have happened during the night, Mr. Paff. Everything was all right when I closed up. Then when I came to open this morning—”

“How come you opened this morning? Where’s Hank?”

“Oh, yeah. I was going to tell you. Hank called me at the house and asked me to open for him. He wasn’t feeling so good.”

“Was he drunk?” Paff asked quickly.

“Gee. Mr. Paff. I wouldn’t know about that. He just called and asked could I open and take the day shift. So I said all right. You know, he took my shift one night last week when I had that twenty-four hour bug.”

“All right. Get a wide piece of adhesive tape and tape that window up on both sides so there won’t be any chance of it shattering. I’ll notify the insurance company. Maybe they’ll want to come out and take a look at it before I fix it.”

“Sure. Mr. Paff. I’ll do that right away.” the manager assured him. “And can you get someone for the evening shift? I’ll stay on if I have to, but it’s a long day.”

“Did you call the office?”

“I called, but there was no answer.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot. I let the girl have the day off. All right. I’ll swing by there and get the list and see what I can do.”

At the Melrose alley Paff noticed that the gold leaf on the window sign was chipped and peeling near the corner. It made the golden bowling ball, which was the company’s trademark, look like a reproving eye.

“When did that happen?” he asked the manager, pointing to the sign.

“What? The sign? It’s always been like that, Mr. Paff.”

“I never noticed.”

“The pinsetting machines in the last two alleys got stuck again, Mr. Paff.”

“Did you call the mechanic? You got the number.”

“Yeah, I called him yesterday and again today. He says he’ll be right over, but he said that yesterday.”

“When did you call him today?” Paff asked. “This morning, first thing when I came in.”

“So call him again.”

“Oh, I’ll call him, but in the meantime we can’t use the alleys.”

“Those mechanics!” Paff shook his head. “Say, would you like to work an evening shift tonight—over in Maiden?”

“Gee, Mr. Paff, I’d like to help you out, but the missus got something planned for tonight.”

Business was off at the Medford alley. “It’s this new billiard parlor that opened up in the shopping center,” the manager explained. “Everybody’s suddenly gone crazy over billiards. Even the dames. They come there and knit—can you imagine, knit?—waiting their turn to shoot.”

Paff asked if he was free to work the evening shift over in Maiden.

“You mean instead of working here? You planning to close this place down? Just because business is off for a couple of days?”

“No. I mean just for tonight, to sub.”

“Oh, sure, anytime at all. Glad to help you out. Of course. Fridays I can’t. I got this j ob Friday nights…”

He swung over to Chelsea, where his office was located, and only after he had finally found a place to park did he realize that he didn’t have his office key.

The janitor was a new man and didn’t know him.

“Look, here’s my car license. See, I’m Meyer Paff. What more do you want?”

“Yeah, but you’re asking me to open the office of the Golden Ball Enterprises. There’s nothing on your license, mister, that shows you’re connected with them.”

Paff bit his lip in annoyance, although strict justice forced him to admit that the janitor was right. “I’m just going to make a couple of phone calls,” he said. “You can stand right there while I do it.”

“Sorry, mister, I got orders. The management is mighty strict about it. There’s been a lot of breaks.”

Paff tried to keep his voice calm. “Look, is Dr. Northcott still in his office, or has he gone to lunch? You know, the dentist on the third floor.”

“I didn’t see him go out.”

“All right, take me up to him. He’ll tell you who I am.”

The dentist showed his annoyance at being called away from his patient, but he identified him.

It sure has been one of those days. Paff thought as he riffled through the card file. He dialed a number and sat with the instrument pressed to his ear as the phone rang and rang. Finally, he hung up and dialed another number. Again, the phone rang without eliciting a response. The third call, the phone was answered immediately. It was a woman. “No, Marty ain’t home. Who shall I say called?” He didn’t bother to explain.

With the next call, he was lucky. “I figured I’d be hearing from you, Mr. Paff. Hank called me on account I subbed for him a couple of weeks ago, and I said okay.”

“Fine. Now look, there’s a broken window, and I had Ted tape it with adhesive tape for the time being. I want you to check it before you close to make sure that tape is nice and secure. Okay?”

On his way out he stopped to thank the janitor and commend him for his caution. He pressed a couple of cigars on him.

“Thanks, Mr.—er—”

“Paff.”

“Oh, yeah. Well thanks, Mr. Paff. I won’t forget next time.”

When he got back to his car, it was jammed in between two others. By the time he had extricated himself, he was bathed in perspiration. I’m getting too old for this, he thought. Then he remembered he hadn’t had lunch. Glumly, he passed a nearby restaurant, noting the lot was full. He decided to eat on the road and stopped at a diner, where the only stool vacant was in front of the grill. Morosely watching the short order cook in a dirty apron, he managed to consume a dry hamburger and a cup of bad coffee.