He turned to go back to his work table when the front door bells jangled.
Moshe walked up front and without giving his visitors a thorough look said, “Good afternoon, ladies, how may I be of service?”
“Moshe it’s me, Noa,” one woman said.
He put his hand to his mouth, and said, “Oh, sorry, Noa. I never expected to see you walking into my shop.”
“That’s fine, Moshe.”
“Who is this lovely young lady?” Moshe asked.
“This is Rebecca, my daughter.”
“Your daughter? You told me that you were last in the line of women, going back to Francesa Sarah.”
“I’m not, but Rebecca is. For now. Hopefully one day she will find a nice man and get married and give me a granddaughter.”
Moshe turned to Rebecca. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Rebecca smiled and said, “I’ve heard many wonderful things about you.”
Moshe smiled.
“I think you should lock the door, Moshe. Trust me, what I am about to tell you cannot be interrupted by a customer,” Noa said, pointing to the door.
“So what happened?” Moshe said, as they stood around his work table.
Noa gestured toward her daughter. “The reason you didn’t know about Rebecca was because no one knew about her. It’s how we keep the lineage intact. When I was born, my mother hid me from view. At birth I did the same to Rebecca. She was given to a woman who comes from a lineage of women who took secret care of the daughters of Francesa Sarah. It’s how we preserved the continuation of the line.”
“That’s interesting. So you can go into the dream world like your mother?”
Rebecca smiled and said, “I can.”
“Then why are you not sweating?”
“It’s been over a week. The sweats usually stop if you don’t go into the dream world for that amount of time,” Rebecca said.
“What were you doing in the dream world?”
“That’s why we’re here, Moshe,” Noa said.
Moshe lifted his hands and asked, “So tell me.”
Noa took a breath and said, “After your, um, incident with the rasha, you left us no choice but to go with our second option.”
“Your second option?”
“Yes, Rebecca. She did what you couldn’t do.”
“What do you mean?”
“The rasha is gone. His soul has been extinguished into the flames of Gehenna.”
“You took him there?”
Rebecca nodded.
“I had my doubts about you, Moshe. You’re too good a man. After all, you’re tzaddik, the righteous one. But you did provide a good distraction for Rebecca’s seduction. Men are so predictable, no matter the age.”
Moshe shook his head. “What are you saying?”
Noa explained to Moshe how Rebecca had been developing a relationship with Solomon in both the dream world and the awakened world.
“A tzaddik does not need permission to bring a rasha to Gehenna. So that meant if Rebecca was to succeed, she would need Solomon’s consent.”
Moshe looked at Rebecca.
She smiled and said, “He agreed to follow me anywhere.”
Moshe’s jaw hung open. “Solomon is really gone?”
Both Noa and Rebecca nodded, and Noa said gently, “Truly. The rasha is no more."
Chapter 83
Myron stared at the ceiling. The only sound he heard was Niko’s rhythmic breathing as she slept. All he could think about was his father and the void he had left behind. The man who had guided him his entire life was gone.
He glanced over at Niko, curled up under the blanket, her face buried deep in her pillow, and wondered if a similar emptiness from the loss of her own father was finding a place in her consciousness.
A sudden noise from within the mansion stirred his attention. It was more than the squeaking of a water pipe or some other indistinguishable house sound; it was the sound of someone entering the mayor’s headquarters.
When Myron heard multiple muffled voices, he rose quickly rose from his bed and reached for his pants. Just as he buckled them, loud sounds of footsteps charging up the staircase shook the floor. “What the fuck?” he said.
“What’s going on?” Niko muttered as she awoke.
Heavy knocks pounded upon the bedroom door. “FBI! Open the door, Mr. Mayor.”
“Myron, why is the FBI here?” Niko asked, now leaning against the headboard, the bedspread pulled up to her neck.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I should open the door before they break it down.”
“Myron, it’s Agent Malone. Open the door now.”
“I’m coming, one second.”
The next time Myron saw Niko was when she came to visit him at the Metropolitan Correctional facility in lower Manhattan while he awaited trial.
He picked up the phone in the visitor’s booth and said, “You look well, and very professional.” Sitting across from him on the other side of the plexiglass window separating them, Niko wore a black suit jacket and crisp white shirt, tailored perfectly to her slender frame. In stark contrast, Myron greeted her in his federal prison uniform: the plain gray shirt and pants that all the inmates wore.
He put his hand against the glass, and Niko mirrored his gesture.
“Your lawyer told me that the judge decided against bail,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows.
Myron nodded. “They consider me a flight risk,” he said, and looked around before he whispered, “and they’re probably right.”
“Oh, Myron,” Niko said, as her eyes welled with tears, “you’ll be sent away for years.”
“I’m afraid that I’ll be an old man if I ever make it out of here.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Niko asked, the tears now streaming down her cheeks.
Myron swallowed hard before he said, “Forget about me, Niko. You’re young and shouldn’t waste your life waiting for me.”
Niko placed both hands on the glass and sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Myron.”
Later that day, as Myron stood against the wall of his cell looking out through the bars and onto two prison guards having a conversation, his mind raced through his regrets.
Perhaps it’s a good thing that my father is not here to see the shame I have brought upon our family name.
The more he thought about his father, the more he wondered what would happen to him after death. He remembered how his father had consoled him when his mother had died, more than twenty years earlier. “Your mother’s soul will continue and she will eventually be reborn,” Solomon had told his son as they stood by her grave the day she was laid to rest.
Myron sat down on the edge of his bed, stared at the lime green cement wall in front of him, and sighed. As much as he tried to imagine his father’s soul taking a similar path, he had this unresolved doubt that lingered in his mind. He wondered, Perhaps this Kabbalah wisdom was just nonsense, and when we die, that’s it—it’s all over.
Chapter 84
“We got him, Agnes. He’ll be locked up for years,” Arnold said. “Frank gave all the tapes to the FBI. Myron is being charged with using the office of the mayor for illegal activities, linked to organized crime. There has never been a case like this before. The FBI is treading carefully so they don’t screw it up,” Arnold said.
Agnes stood up from the chair, walked over to the window, and looked out onto the Grand Concourse. “Well, it’s done. Solomon is dead, and his son will spend a good portion of the rest of his life in prison.”
Arnold nodded. “It seems so.”
“What about Mickey’s daughter, Niko?” Agnes asked.
“There was nothing the District Attorney could charge her with that would stick.”
“I hear the city council has announced a special election for mayor. Perhaps you may run?” Agnes said, smiling broadly.
“How did you know?”
“I think I might know you even better than your wife does, Arnold.”
Arnold nodded. “I’m going to run. And how would you feel about going back to work in City Hall for the new mayor?”
“You have to win first,” she said.
“You always know how to keep my head out of the clouds, Agnes.”
Chapter 85
“Moshe, it’s good to see you,” Arnold said, seeing Moshe sitting in a booth at the Fordham Diner.
Moshe placed his coffee cup down and waved Arnold over.
“How are Leah and the rest of your family?” Arnold asked, as he sat down in Moshe’s booth.
“Thank god, everyone is well.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“So what’s this I hear you’re running for mayor?”
“It’s true. The election is next week. I hope I have your vote.”
“Of course, it’s good to have a friend in high places,” Moshe said. “I read in the paper how you fooled Myron into thinking you were working for him. That was very clever.”
“Between Agnes and me, and of course the commissioner, we had him surrounded. Plus Myron was a ticking time bomb. He would have self-destructed anyway had we not expedited his demise.”
“So you got what you wanted. The rasha is gone and so is his gangster son.”
“It’s been quite a ride. How’s your arm?” Arnold said, pointing to the cast.
“It’s coming off next week. Being a one-armed cobbler is not easy.” Moshe laughed.
“That’s funny, Moshe. It’s good to see you. I have to run. Campaigning is exhausting. Let’s stay in touch,” Arnold said, following his campaign manager out the door of the diner and into his waiting car.
As Moshe watched through the window, he sighed. All’s well that ends well, he thought. But he really didn’t believe it. He had failed at his task. All he had to do was release the rasha into the fiery pit of Gehenna, but he couldn’t do it.
If and when the day came, and he was face to face with Hashem, what would he say? Moshe sighed and thought, After all, isn’t killing a sin? And who knows how I would be judged for terminating a soul?
That night, when he got home, Leah had dinner waiting for him.
“Come, Moshe, and eat. I’m starving.”
“It’s a little hard these days doing things with one arm.”
“The cast is coming off soon, and you’ll be as good as new.”
“I hope so.”
“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you. You stopped sweating. I guess you got over whatever that was.”
Moshe rubbed his forehead and nodded. “Yes, Leah, no more sweats.”
Her comment reminded him that the last time he visited the dream world was when he brought Solomon to Gehenna. He wanted no part of that experience again, but he wouldn’t mind experiencing something pleasurable.
Sammy told him that the only place he had any fun was in the dream world. The pleasantness of these thoughts allowed Moshe to quickly drift off to sleep that night.
He awoke in the dream world upon a rocky cliff, overlooking a churning seashore. From his vantage point, Moshe could see a long stretch of a desolate beach, shaded overhead by a front of dark clouds. He found and followed an array of chiseled stones that offered a stairway down to the beach.
As he stepped upon the firm sand, the clouds parted and rays of sunlight shone down upon him. Moshe closed his eyes and lifted his face to welcome its warmth. When he opened his eyes, he saw three people huddled around a fire, talking and laughing. Moshe smiled and called out, “Hello.”
The people turned and waved at Moshe to join them. The clouds were now gone and only a flock of gulls filled the blue sky.
A man broke away from the group and was walking toward him. Moshe rubbed his eyes, to make sure what he was seeing was really there. But there was no denying his vision, the man walking to him was Gray.
“Greetings, Moshe, we’ve been waiting for you,” Gray said with open arms.
Moshe accepted the embrace and grasped Gray by the shoulders and looked into his gray eyes. “Is it really you?”
“It’s me, Moshe.”
“But you’re dead. I was at your funeral.”
Gray nodded and smiled. “My soul lives on. That is until I am able to move on to another incarnation.”
“I can visit you in the dream world?”
“Yes, for all of those whose souls who haven’t yet been called. We were just discussing how, with your help, the soul of the rasha no longer exists,” Gray said pointing to the two people standing by the fire.
“Solomon may be gone, but not because of me. I was unable to complete the task. If it hadn’t been for Noa’s daughter, Rebecca, the rasha would have survived.”
Gray shook his head. “No, Moshe, what you don’t understand is that we all knew that you couldn’t do it. You’re tzaddik, you’re too kind. What you did was what was expected. Our ruse worked.”
Moshe shook his head and said, “This was planned. I didn’t screw up?”
Gray put his arm around Moshe’s shoulder. “Noa is brilliant and you did great. Now come and see who is here. You have friends who are waiting for you.”
Moshe and Gray walked toward the campfire. A young blond man greeted Moshe first.
“Hello, Moshe, it is good to see you again.”
It wasn’t until Moshe looked deeply into the man’s blue eyes that he realized that this strapping youth was his former assistant. “Jack McCoy? Is that you?”
Jack nodded and smiled.
“It is wonderful to see you, Jack.”
Another man who was facing the fire turned around, and Moshe immediately recognized the long white beard. “Rabbi Shapira?”
“Shalom, Moshe.”
“Rabbi, how is this all possible?”
“It’s possible because you make it so.”
“Is this real?” Moshe said, looking at Gray and Jack.
“What does that word mean?”
Moshe shrugged. “I do not know, Rabbi.”
“We are here now. You can touch my arm,” he said, reaching his arm toward Moshe. “Do I not feel real. You want to tug on my beard?” he said pulling his beard.
Moshe smiled. “I suppose this is real. But when I wake up, this will all be gone. No one will know about it but me.”
Gray and Jack stood next to the rabbi, who said, “We will be here for you, Moshe, to visit at any time you want. That is, until our time comes to move on.”
“Come now, Moshe, let’s sit by the fire and talk,” Gray said.
He awoke to Leah shaking him. “Moshe, you’re going to be late,” she said.
Moshe opened his eyes and rubbed them to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the window. He pushed himself to sitting with his good arm and stood up and made his way into the bathroom to prepare himself for the day.
“Can you help me dress, please?”
As Leah buttoned Moshe’s shirt she stared at him with great intent. “Are you sweating again?”
Moshe touched his forehead with his good arm and smiled. “I suppose I am.”
“The sweats are back. That’s it, I’m taking you to the doctor today.”
Moshe smiled, and took Leah’s hand. “Come sit with me. I want to tell you about this wonderful place where we can experience things you would never believe was possible,” Moshe said, softly stroking Leah’s cheek.
“I know that look, Moshe. What are you talking about?”
“Leah, imagine we are both thirty years younger, and in love.”
Leah squinted her eyes and offered a sly smile and answered, “Moshe Potasznik, have you lost your mind?”
The End
Acknowledgments
The Righteous One is a sequel to A Cobbler’s Tale, which was drawn from the true story of my great-grandparents, Pincus and Clara Rubenfeld, and their son Moshe, my grandfather.
While Moshe Rubenfeld was not a tzaddik, he did have a unique ability to bring joy to his children, grandchildren, friends, and the many people he interacted with in his fruit and ve
getable store on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.
I would be amiss not to mention Leah Rubenfeld, Moshe’s wife and my beloved grandmother who also played an inspirational part in The Righteous One.
About the Author
Neil Perry Gordon achieved his goal of an author of historical-fiction with his first novel – A Cobbler’s Tale, published in the fall of 2018. With dozens of reviews praising his writing style, he released his second novel – Moon Flower the following year.
His creative writing methods and inspiration has been described as organic, meaning that he works with a general storyline for his characters and plot, without a formal, detailed outline. This encourages his writing to offer surprising twists and unexpected outcomes, which readers have celebrated.
Neil Perry Gordon’s novels also have the attributes of being driven by an equal balance between character development and face-paced action scenes, which moves the stories along at a page-turning pace.
Both of these previous novels have encouraged Neil’s shift in genre into the realm of metaphysical-fiction with his new novel The Righteous One. According to the author, this genre explores the possibilities of magic realism, where the supernatural is part of our tangible reality.
The author has attributed his love for the creative process from his education from his formative years spent learning-to-learn at the Green Meadow Waldorf School.
Readers can learn more about Neil Perry Gordon by visiting his website and blog at:
https://www.neilperrygordon.com/
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