Thursday The Rabbi Walked Out

25

"WAS IT ANYTHING SERIOUS? WAS IT REALLY AN EMERGENCE David?" Miriam asked when the rabbi returned.

He shook his head. "Just the sick fancies of a lonely and embittered woman." He smiled. "Among other things, she accused her daughter-in-law of plotting against me. You know her at all?"

"Molly Mandell? Well, I see her when I take your check to the bank on the first of the month, and I see her at Sisterhood meetings occasionally, she's apt to be rather outspoken there, mostly about women's rights. From little things I’ve heard, she's not one of your more ardent admirers." She hesitated, and then added. "The Mandells are also supposed to be friendly with the Maltzmans."

"What's wrong with that?"

"There's nothing actually wrong with it. I suppose, but it is curious since the Maltzmans are so much older than the

Mandells."

"And what's the significance of that?" he asked.

"Well, Henry Maltzman doesn't like you. David. I can see it whenever he comes here. Can't you sense it?"

"Yes, I've noticed it, as you pointed out, his attitude was like that of the officers, especially the line officers, when I was a chaplain in the army, and Henry Maltzman is still very much an officer, there was a grudging admission that maybe we in the Chaplain's Corps might help maintain morale, and hence to that extent we were useful. But otherwise, there was no meeting of minds. I suppose they resented that they couldn't give us orders when they outranked us. I think they felt that way toward the Medical Corps, too, a captain in the Medics once told me that whenever he told an infantry colonel to take his shirt off, he used to wait a minute or two so that the sound of teeth gritting didn't interfere with the sounds he was trying to hear through the stethoscope. Yes, I think Henry Maltzman would prefer a more complaint rabbi to deal with, he may even be trying to do something about it. It certainly wouldn't surprise me."

"And what are you planning to do about it?" "Nothing," he said simply. "There's nothing I can do." She was annoyed with him. "You mean, you're giving up?

You've had trouble with previous residents, and you've fought them—"

"It's different now,” he said.

"How is it different?" she challenged.

"Now that they've got an executive committee of fifteen, it only takes eight votes not to renew my contract." He smiled ruefully. "Maybe I outsmarted myself when I turned down the lifetime contract, although if I had a life contract, they could get me out easily enough by voting something that I couldn't possibly condone. Still. I'll admit it's easier for them now."

"And you wouldn't do anything about it?"

"What can I do about it? Ask the individual members of the board not to fire me? And what would my position be afterward?"

"So what will you do?" she asked, her voice betraying exasperation.

He smiled faintly. "I suppose this time I'll have to leave it in the hands of God and hope for the best."