Once inside, Daniel indicated the rows of long wooden benches. “We can sit here if you want, or we can go stand out on the deck. It’s cold and a little windy, but the view of the Statue of Liberty, I think, is worth it.”
Wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck and putting her gloves back on, she said, “I choose the view.” They walked past the benches and stepped out onto the bow.
Soon the horn was blasting and they were departing. The wind definitely kicked up a few notches as they stood together, but they held to their decision, as well as to each other.
“So, let’s talk about the Purim play. First of all, Sylvia is demanding you play Queen Esther. And I agree.
“But what about the kids?”
“No, this won’t involve them, except they’ll be in the audience with their groggers and booing Haman. That’s the fun part for them, and for us we get to be the actors.”
“Then that’s perfect actually, because I did have an idea. I just didn’t see how I could use the kids in it.”
“Tell me.”
“Did you ever see Annie Hall?”
“Didn’t everyone? But what’s this to do with Purim?”
She was relieved that although Daniel did not watch television, he did go to the movies. Seeing her expression, he chuckled. “What? I’m not supposed to go to the movies?”
“No, but—”
“With television, people sit in front of the thing with their faces glued to it. I didn’t want that to be me. We’ll have to go on a date to a movie soon, huh? Now back to Purim.”
While enjoying the view of the lower Manhattan skyline and the close-up view of the Statue of Liberty, Naomi explained her concept. Woody Allen would be Mordecai and, as in the movie, he would narrate part of the story, and Queen Esther would be based on Diane Keaton’s character. Wacky, nervous, and somewhat of an airhead.
“I love it,” he assured her. “And, of course, you’re perfect for the wacky Queen.”
“Then you gotta be the King.”
“No, Naomi, I don’t act.”
“You will this time.”
During the remaining ride, they bantered back and forth about his participation in the performance and spoke of other people at the Temple who could play some of the various roles. Soon they were sitting inside the St. George Tunnel, waiting for Dana and Ed to pick them up. After thirty minutes, Daniel asked for change from a worker, went to the phone booth and called his sister’s home. No answer. He also tried Ed’s work number, but was told this was his day off.
Naomi suggested, “What about where Dana works?”
“She doesn’t. Once in a while she’ll sell one of her paintings, but that’s about it.”
After an additional fifteen minutes of waiting, Daniel looked at Naomi. “C’mon. The ferry’s about to leave. We’ll go back to Brooklyn and see a movie! What d’ya say?”
“I love it,” she told him as they reboarded the ferry for a return trip. “You know I’ve decided I’m very shallow.”
With no apparent provocation for this confession, he raised one eyebrow and silently communicated, “What’s going on? Wanna talk?” It reminded her of the first time they met—the day she had been velcroed to the sidewalk in front of the synagogue.
Today he chose to be more deliberate and eventually gave voice to his question. “Naomi, are you having an insecurity attack?”
“Probably. I was amazed though when Anne asked you a question and I ended up hearing more about you than I ever heard before. Daniel, I wish I knew the right questions to ask you because I want to know you better.”
“You sure about that? What if I were to tell you about my rebellious years?”
Her eyes popped wide open.
“The rebellion didn’t actually start until I went to seminary—sad, isn’t it? I guess I went with too many expectations. I had a passion to study, to learn about the God of our ancestors. Somehow I’d finally be able to make sense out of why the horrible things happened to my parents . . . and to all my other family I never got to meet. But what I found was this passionless study and it had nothing really to do with faith at all.”
They were both being pummeled by the cold damp wind. Daniel wrapped his arms around her and led them into the more sheltered area. This time they would take advantage of the wooden benches.
Once seated, he told her, “In high school I had somehow found these two books—they were both by the same author. I think you will understand this, these books stirred up this longing inside me—I wanted to really know God.”
It was as if all time came to a halt, her heart held its breath, and all her senses were riveted to this moment. “What were the books?”
“God in Search of Man and Man in Search of God.” He nodded as he watched Naomi’s enthusiastic reaction to this title. “We were meant to talk about this, weren’t we? The author believed Judaism should not be a set of rules you had to force yourself to believe, or some mold you had to squeeze yourself into. I remember this one sentence of his—‘an irresistible presence inviting us to experience Him.’”
He cupped her chin in his hands. “In seminary, they ridiculed me, both classmates and professors, but still I refused to go along with this lifeless body of facts they wanted us to study and then regurgitate back to them in our tests. My grades went down, of course, and I became angry. And cynical. I had no idea anymore why I was studying to be a rabbi, but I didn’t know what I wanted to do instead. I began taking drugs, and doing a few other things I shouldn’t have.”
After a slight pause, he continued, “After about a year of this, I was on the subway and I met a young guy, his name was Irwin. We started talking and he told me about this havurah he had at his house. It was this informal Jewish fellowship and I started going. It was a wonderful time. And because of this group, I went back to seminary. Knowing there were Jews like me out there, I didn’t let the ridicule get to me.” He playfully warned, “I can be stubborn, you know.”
“And now? Are you happy being at our shul?
“I am, but it took a while. Last year when I first got there I was still unrealistic. I was looking forward to helping people more with their issues on faith and morality, but all they were concerned with was more everyday problems. Seemed so mundane at first, but probably about two months before I met you, I discovered I really liked helping people with their everyday problems.”
Clanking made it impossible to be heard for a few minutes as the ferry maneuvered to the dock. The ramps were lowered to the ferry deck and they walked off the vessel and emerged into Lower Manhattan.
“What movie are we going to see?” she asked Daniel.
He seemed preoccupied. Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “Could you ever be happy if you didn’t live in New York City? Actually, I guess, that would mean giving up your career? How would My-omi feel about that?”
CHAPTER 10
For Such a Time as This
“Naomi, could you ever be happy if. . .” The more appropriate question right now had to be “Naomi, could you ever be happier?” Although Daniel had asked her not to give him credit for what God Himself was doing, in her heart they were intertwined. God had to be the Giver of such a wondrous gift as Daniel. For the last six weeks, her feet were barely touching earth itself.
On this particular night, Daniel and Naomi ate an early dinner, sharing a bowl of bigos, a stew of sauerkraut and kielbasa, their favorite dish at Teresa’s. The couple were dressed in their Purim costumes as King Ahasuerus and Queen Esther. They had no reason to be uncomfortable walking on the streets of Brooklyn in such attire—most of the neighborhood was dressed in similar fashion.
Having hurriedly finished their meal, they rushed to the synagogue for the Festival. Climbing up the wide stairs to the Temple, Daniel’s crown began to totter and fell with the sound of light metallic plinks.
“Don’t wait for me. You better go in,” he yelled to Naomi.
The downstairs social area had been turned
into a large carnival, in great part due to Naomi’s contribution and Beatrice’s willingness to allow her kitchen area to be co-opted for this event. Not only would they perform the short play Naomi had written, Plotz and Edicts, but she and Daniel had thought up some fun activities.
The first booth upon entering was the “Dig for Treasure in the Negev.” Hidden in a tub of sand were prizes, all set for players to dig them up. Another booth, especially set up for the girls, was the Shushan Salon, which boasted a beauty parlor offering wild hair colors and face painting.
Rabbi Lehrer’s and Sylvia’s son Isaac volunteered to man the “Pop Haman” booth. Earlier Isaac and his son Barry blew up balloons and drew Haman faces on them. They then attached the balloons to a backboard of thick Styrofoam. With a carnival barker’s voice and holding out a handful of darts, Isaac was already drawing people. “Step up, everybody. Who wants to be the first to pop Haman?”
Next to her son and grandson was Sylvia at the Decorating Crowns craft booth.
Here children decorated cardboard crowns with glitter, plastic gems and stickers. It was then theirs to wear for the rest of the evening.
The activity most dear to both Daniel and Naomi was the Trip Thru Israel. It had required the most work and filled half the space in the downstairs area. They had constructed a mini-golf course which traveled around a giant map of Israel. Daniel’s father, Stefan, persuaded the owner of an actual miniature golf course in his city to donate clubs and balls for this event. Since Stefan had pledged to keep his eyes on these items, he manned this area, along with Naomi’s father, Saul.
Naomi’s mom, Helen, worked with Sylvia and helped the children decorate their crowns. Because of Sylvia’s and Helen’s winsomeness, Daniel’s stoic mother Zofia was helping as well.
Almost all arrived in costume, whether dressed as a Purim character or simply wearing a Mardi-Gras type mask. Rabbi Lehrer, soon to play Mordecai, came dressed as a Chasidic Jew, reminding Naomi once again of her improv days with Gary.
Out of the corner of her eye, Naomi saw Daniel run to greet a woman in her mid-fifties. She heard him call out “Aunt Luba,” to this attractive woman probably wearing the most sparkly Queen Esther outfit in the room. He hooked his arm around his aunt and led her to Naomi.
“Ah, Danielek, as handsome as ever. And, so this is your sweetheart?” With a twinkle in her eye, Aunt Luba pointed a finger toward Naomi. “I’ve heard about you, young lady. Danielek, why haven’t you brought her over for dinner, shame on you.” Again, with her finger pointing at Naomi, she said, “Make sure he brings you. But now, children, go, go, I can see you’re busy. Danielek, take me to my sister. Where is she?”
Daniel escorted her to Zofia while Naomi continued buzzing around the room, checking on all those in her cast. Daniel, of course, would be King to her Queen Esther. Haman would be played by the President of the shul, Morris Berger. Although Naomi had very little if any dealings with this man, she was told after the fact that she had done an excellent job on typecasting; it seemed many considered Mr. Berger to be quite the villain.
While moving about the room, Naomi saw Daniel taking her father aside. They walked into the hallway where they appeared to be having a private conversation. What’s that all about? She was tempted to go into the hallway and eavesdrop, yet resisted.
An hour into the evening, Rabbi Lehrer stood on the raised platform rented especially for the occasion. “Are you ready to hear the whole Megillah?” All affirmed they were looking forward to hearing the public recitation from the Scroll of Esther.
The Rabbi whispered into the microphone, “You are in for something special tonight. Our Cantor could not make it, and I believe you will all be surprised when you hear our very own Rabbi Dan chanting the Megillah for us.”
Daniel can chant?
He walked up onto the platform, took the microphone from Rabbi Lehrer and began the traditional Hebrew chant which told the story of Esther. His voice was as lyrical and with as wide a range as Sharon’s, yet with a poignant sincerity to his delivery.
After completion, Daniel handed the microphone back to Rabbi Lehrer, who prayed, “Blessed are You, our God, King of the Universe. You take up all our grievances and judge accordingly. You bring just retribution upon all enemies of our soul for we are Your people, the apple of Your eye.”
All present cried out, “Amen,” and Rabbi Lehrer jubilantly asked, “Are you now ready for the Purim Spiel?” The crowd responded enthusiastically—they were indeed ready.
Daniel reminded everyone, “Don’t forget—take out your groggers.” Not only did the children take out their noisemakers, but holding the wooden handle, they twirled the revolving metal piece. Talking over the clamor, Daniel said, “Now that’s what you do every time you see Haman or hear his name. Okay?”
Barry Lehrer jumped in, “We can also yell ‘boo.’”
Daniel laughed. “Of course. And why do we do this?”
Again the Rabbi’s grandson jumped in. “To blot out Haman’s name.”
“Right you are, Barry. Now, it’s showtime.” Daniel stepped down from the platform.
Rabbi Lehrer, as Mordecai, climbed up and took center stage, rubbing his chin. “What am I doing in Persia? I’m a Jew. If you don’t believe me, just read the book of Esther—it’s there in black and white, ‘Mordecai the Jew.’ I mean it’s one thing to be a bagel growing up in a bagel factory . . . but being a bagel growing up in a Persian donut shop, that’s something else. And when these Persians wanna dunk you, they dunk you.”
Despite Rabbi Lehrer’s misgivings about Naomi’s writing, his people were enjoying it. Their joviality proved infectious, waves of laughter rippling through the crowd. The Rabbi waited for the laughter to fade and beamed toward Naomi.
After giving in to a chuckle of his own, Mordecai continued, “The captivity has been fifty years already. So, what am I doing in Persia—shopping for rugs? I miss the land, I miss the gefilite fish . . . but here I sit, in the land ruled by King Ahasuerus. Ah, here he comes now.”
Daniel entered while plopping an Alka Seltzer into a glass of water. He turned to his Servant, played by Barry Lehrer. “Oy, too much wine last night. So where’s Vashti?”
In an overly loud voice, Barry delivered his line. “Don’t you remember? The Queen’s been deported. Uh, as per your orders, sir.”
“My orders . . .?!” Naomi loved the wonderful job Daniel was doing as the ditzy king.
The Servant recapped yesterday’s events. “Last night you asked Vashti, your queen, to display her beauty before your guests at the banquet. She refused.”
“She did? How dare her! Then what happened?”
“As you recall, oh great and lucid King, we had no choice. After she disgraced both you and the whole kingdom, you gave her the royal heave-ho.”
Soon the Servant planted an idea in the King’s mind. A beauty contest would be held to replace the Queen. They walked off the platform as Mordecai stepped back up, this time with Naomi following close behind.
At this time Naomi wore a dark smock over her beautiful queen’s costume. “Hi, cousin Mordecai the Jew. Wanna hear my new poem?”
His attempt to dissuade her was unsuccessful. While Naomi recited her silly poem, Mordecai reached for a roll of paper towels set on the stage. He unrolled it as if it were a large scroll. “Kid, I’m going to enter you in a contest I heard about. Let’s look at the rules.”
The silliness continued until finally the contest was over and the results were announced. “Cousin Mordecai, I won!” Naomi threw off the drab smock and tossed it to the side, and in all her resplendence took her place as Queen Esther.
The King was happy and declared, “Not only is my new queen beautiful and graceful, but . . .” Esther deliberately tripped her way across the stage. “. . . Fetch the Royal Crown!”
Beatrice stepped up and handed Daniel a large bottle of RC Cola. Naomi exclaimed, “Oooh, No-cal!”
This was Haman’s cue to enter. With his first step onto the platform
, the children engaged their noisemakers and added a generous helping of loud booing.
In the next scene, the Queen informed the King, “There is a plot which has been hatched by a wicked man. All because one man wouldn’t bow to him. Haman is a very wicked man.”
This prompted the children’s school administrator to lead the children in singing. “O once there was a wicked, wicked man, and Haman was his name, sir.”
The Purim Spiel came to an end when Esther saw the Servant walking away and asked him where he was going.
Barry answered, “To the dairy, Queen.” Unable to contain himself, the boy chortled right along with the audience. For a moment, Naomi feared he would forget his next line, but Barry came through. “Would you like a burger, King?”
“Sure. I deserve a break today.”
They took their bows—no boos but only cheers. Naomi grabbed the microphone and said, “I know it was a bit corny, but what d’ya expect? I’m from the Borscht Belt.” She looked over at her father. He beamed with pride.
Beatrice brought out the hamantashen, a triangular-shaped pastry, some filled with prunes, some with apricots, and others with poppy seeds. Naomi was ready to walk toward where both hers and Daniel’s family were seated when Daniel came running over to her.
His face flushed with excitement, he told her how well the play had gone, but she interrupted him. “Daniel, your chanting—it was beautiful. I didn’t know . . .”
It was his turn to interrupt. “Before going to our parents, would you walk out into the foyer with me?”
In an alcove off to the side, near the library, Daniel took her hand as he bent down on one knee. In his other hand, he held a small box. “My-omi, will you be my Queen?”
When they reentered the festive carnival area, the hamantashen took a backseat to the diamond ring glistening on Naomi’s finger. Helen unabashedly shed joyous tears and Saul had his own way of showing his happiness: he simply kept smiling and nodding his approval.
Unlike her father, Daniel’s appeared unafraid to express tender affection. Stefan, his face crinkling into a wide grin, locked his arms around his son. Zofia, although not showing the same gaiety as the others at the table, walked over to Naomi and pinched her cheek.
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