The Funeral Party

NINE

The bearded men walked out to the street. Gottlieb didn’t feel drunk at all, but he had forgotten where he had left his car, and the place where he expected to find it was occupied by someone else’s long-backed Pontiac.

“They’ve towed it away, they’ve towed it away!” Father Victor laughed like a child, without malice.

“You can park here, why would they tow it away?” Gottlieb said peevishly. “You wait, I’ll look round the corner.”

The rabbi displayed no interest in which car they would be driving him back in, he was more intrigued by what the funny man in the cap was saying: “With your permission, I’d like to go on,” Father Victor was in a hurry to share his thoughts with his unusual companion. “The first experiment was successful, you might say. The diaspora proved exceptionally valuable for the entire world. Of course you’ve brought back together what’s left of you over there, but so many Jews have assimilated, diluted, there are so many of you in all countries, in science, culture, the arts. In some ways I’m a Judophile. Every decent Christian must respect the chosen people. You understand how important it is that Jews have poured their precious blood into every culture, every nation. And from this what do we get? It’s a worldwide process! The Russians leave their ghetto, and the Chinese. Mark my words, from these young American Chinese we’re getting the best musicians, the best mathematicians. I’ll go further—mixed marriages! You see what I’m saying? It’s the creating of a new people!”

The rabbi appeared to understand quite well what his opponent was saying, but he didn’t by any means share his thoughts on the subject and merely chewed his lip. Three glasses or four. He couldn’t remember, at any event it had evidently been a lot.

“We’re living in new times! Neither Jew nor gentile, and in the most direct sense too!” the priest said happily.

The rabbi stopped walking and wagged a finger at him. “That’s it, that’s the most important thing for you isn’t it—no Jews.”

Gottlieb finally drove up in his car, opened the door for his rabbi, then rudely drove off leaving Father Victor alone on the street in a state of deep mortification. “Look how he twists things, I meant nothing of the sort.”