Out of Such Darkness

by Robert Ronsson

  In any event I took him out of the square and we walked back to the Green House with Wolf leaning heavily on my arm and me enjoying the weight of him against me. I could feel the heft of his young body through the thin cotton of our summer jackets.

  Chapter 21

  On the drive back to Burford Lakes after his meeting with Mark Costidy, Jay runs through the events since the morning he missed the train. He’s aware of the MC lurking at the back of his brain –- as if he’s sitting in one of the rear passenger seats – monitoring his thoughts.

  He’s certain that he’s right to defend Ben’s role in the play. Somehow it has become central to the success of their time in America. If the family fails in this it means an ignominious return to the UK with nothing achieved.

  $3 million?

  Okay, there’s the money. But it’s not everything. Rachel’s right, there’s nothing for them here. He wants to go home – and yes it is home – with Ben’s achievement ringing in the ears of their Burford neighbours.

  His research into the history of Cabaret isn’t a diversion. It’s part of his support for Ben and it has led him to Cameron Mortimer – an earlier Englishman in New York. Jay’s intrigued by him and senses a connection from Mortimer to Isherwood via Auden.

  You have to thank the lovely Prentice for knowing about Mortimer. Prentice of the twin peaks in a twin set.

  Yes, Prentice. What of her? There is a flirtation going on there. But if he was to go down that route …

  Teri is the better option.

  Teri would be the better option. But why would he be unfaithful?

  Because you’re alive and you can?

  Wouldn’t it be really living to have that sort of fling? His heart rate quickens and his palms go moist. Yes, if he was going to engineer it to happen with anybody, Teri’s the one.

  Hmm. Not sounding to me like a religious man, Jay.

  Oh, yes. There’s his Jewishness. Is this where the answer to the question ‘why me’ lies? All that his Jewishness has brought them is Rabbi Stern’s opposition to the play and …

  And you come full circle.

  Which takes him back to Ben and Rachel – the family who are in a holding pattern until they can return home. And Teri?

  The thing with Teri will develop or it will not.

  With Teri it’s wait and see. And Rachel’s right – they have to go back at Christmas.

  The Holidays.

  Correction – the Holidays. But can he continue flitting from one enthusiasm to the next until something concrete turns up? It feels like his life is on hold …

  Waiting.

  ‘They need to know we’re not going to back down.’ Jay says. He and Rachel sit at the dining table in the afternoon after his visit to the school. They’re waiting for the school bus, each with hands clasped round a mug of tea. ‘If the school stands up to Stern, they don’t want to be left high and dry.’

  Rachel takes a sip. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I said we’d be rock solid behind them.’

  ‘Is it wise? Aren’t we going to make enemies?’

  ‘We already have. The good thing is we don’t know anybody from that part of town.’

  ‘And even if it does cause problems, how long do we have to live with it? We’ll be gone by Christmas.’

  ‘Hmm. Yes, the Holidays.’ Jay’s lack of confirmation hangs between them.

  ‘We are going aren’t we?’

  ‘What if we settle here?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You ought to see the facilities at the school.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And – I don’t know. Look at the sun shining. It’s cold but it’s not like the constant grey days at home … winters in the UK … the whole year … there it’s like you only ever see the sun through a filthy skylight.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Shouldn’t we give it a year at least? We didn’t see the whole of the summer – the bit we were here for was all sunny days, time by the pool. There’ll be more of it – much more.’

  Rachel looks into her mug. Her knuckles are white. ‘We’re not staying and that’s an end to it. If we leave at Christmas Ben will have only missed one term. We can settle down again.’

  Don’t forget the $3million.

  He leans forward and clasps her arms. ‘Think about it, Rache. $3million – think what we can do here with that sort of money.’

  She aims her laser-stare at him. ‘I can’t work.’

  ‘You wouldn’t need to – not for money. Do something voluntarily – at the school – at the library – anywhere.’

  ‘Jay, I’d end up like one of these skeletal Burford wives. Anyway, what would you do if we stayed?’

  He puts his palms to his forehead and drags them down across his eyes drawing down the skin of his cheeks. ‘I don’t know. But going back. It’ll look like we’re running away.’

  But you decided you won’t be – as long as Ben keeps the part and he’s a success.

  That evening, Bob Cochrane from next door invites Jay to join him for Monday night football. At a few minutes before 9pm Jay and Katy Cochrane cross on the boundary between the front gardens as if they’re characters in a Checkpoint Charlie hostage exchange. Katy carries a bottle of wine and Jay has a four-bottle pack of Rolling Rock straight from the refrigerator.

  After closing the front door behind him, Jay stands at the top of the half-flight and looks down to where the dimmed moving light from the television appears to be the only illumination. The TV is out of sight at the end of the room but he can see part of the couch with Bob’s tousle-haired blond head leaning back. He has his eyes fixed on the screen, but half-turns to throw his voice over his shoulder. ‘C’mon down, buddy. Pick up a beer in the fridge.’

  Jay enters the kitchen, opens the refrigerator and spies bottles of Budweiser in ranks. Is it rude to drink his own, the one he prefers? He turns and shouts. ‘Bob! Can I get you one?’

  ‘Nah! Got one on the go.’

  Doing what he would have done in England, Jay takes one of his Rolling Rocks and puts the other three on the shelf. He steps down into the den and sees that Bob is not alone. ‘Hi, Tyler,’ he says.

  Tyler waves a hand but his eyes stay on the television screen which is showing commercials. ‘Hey, Mr Halprin. Ben not coming over to watch the game?’

  ‘He’s not really into American football.’

  Both the Cochranes chuckle.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘We just call it football, buddy.’ Bob says. ‘Tyler, you come over here so Mr Halprin can sit down.’

  ‘Can I go to Mr Halprin’s and hang out with Ben?’

  ‘Don’t you want to watch the game, buddy?’

  Tyler’s shoulders sag. ‘Nah. Will it be okay, Mr Halprin?’

  Jay nods. ‘I’m sure Ben will be happy to see you. There’s a TV in his room so you can watch the game there if you want.’

  On the TV, a sombre flag-raising ceremony is conducted in silence. The Stars and Stripes is carried by officers from the fire service to honour their dead comrades. Jay’s anticipation of the spectacle drowns under a tidal wave of despair.

  The MC bows his head and wrings his white-gloved hands. So many dead …

  The game starts and Bob watches intently but as a neutral. The teams are the Washington Redskins and the Green Bay Packers and he’s a fan of the New England Patriots. He’s there because it’s Monday night football and every fan is in front of a screen – especially today.

  ‘I hope Tyler watches the game at yours.’ Bob swigs from his can. ‘It’s important to show solidarity – the first Monday football after 9/11 and all.’

  The words 9/11, so often on everyone’s lips, twist in Jay’s gut.

  ‘I like it that Prime Minister Tony Blair is standing shoulder to shoulder with Bush. Okay, Bush is a blowhard but he’s the only President we’ve got. It’s good to know you’re on our side, buddy.’

  They watch a play in silence and when it finishes Bob takes a slu
g of beer his eyes fixed on the screen. ‘Gather your Ben has a big part in the school show.’

  ‘Not one of the leading roles – but he’s in it, yes.’

  ‘Been a bit of trouble with the synagogue up by Burford Station.’

  ‘Yes, Rabbi Stern has taken against the idea of Ben wearing Nazi regalia.’

  ‘Because he’s Jewish?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The action restarts but Bob speaks over the commentary. ‘Think the people of Burford Lakes are happy to go along with what’s decided by the school. It’s not for the church – any church – to interfere.’

  ‘Has it been discussed in your church – which is it?’

  ‘Presbyterian – on the green.’ He waves the beer can. ‘Not as such. But most folks round here think that Jefferson High is doing a good job. We leave it to them.’

  ‘So you won’t be marching with Rabbi Stern?’ Jay inflects his words with an irony that his English friends would have picked up.

  ‘Hell no!’ There’s a commercial break and he stands. ‘’Nother one o’ them beers?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  With one foot on the first riser of the half-stairway, Bob stops and, looking up towards the kitchen, says, ‘Well, neighbor, we hold by the First Amendment in this house. Katy and me – and Tyler. We’re gonna stand by Rachel and you on this. I reckon most of the people round here are. Burford Lakes folks – generally we’re not the marching sort and Rabbi Stern is going one step too far. We’ll be shoulder to shoulder with you crossing the picket line if it comes to it.’ He nods in affirmation of his pronouncement and continues up the stairs. He shouts from the kitchen, ‘Yep, shoulder to shoulder just like Prime Minister Tony Blair.’

  Jay is relieved to hear him rearranging the cans and bottles in the fridge because it gives him the opportunity to take a tissue from the box on the coffee table wipe his eyes and blow his nose. ‘Thanks, buddy,’ he says when Bob returns and hands him his second bottle of Rolling Rock.

  It’s now Jay’s custom to attend Synagogue every Saturday. Rachel stays at home but Ben joins him on the basis that this duty will lead to a bar mitzvah party when they go home.

  Rabbi Zwyck is not putting pressure on Jay to do any more about becoming a practising Jew than ‘see how he feels’. She’s invited him to attend shul and was relaxed when he declined and said he’ll take it up when he returns to England. On this Saturday she asks him to stay behind after the service so they may ‘have a word’.

  He waits in the vestibule while the rabbi stands at the door shaking hands with the members of her congregation as they leave. She turns back to face him and Jay, sensing that they will talk about Cabaret, suggests to Ben that he waits in the car. ‘Catch!’ he says, as he tosses his son the keys.

  ‘Elayna.’ They shake hands.

  ‘Come!’ she says flicking her hand up by her shoulder. She totters ahead of him and Jay wonders whether the heft of her bosom means that her feet are always trying to catch up with her centre of gravity.

  It’s the counter-weight of that posterior that keeps her upright.

  The rabbi sidles behind the desk and topples back into the chair. Jay sees the North Tower imploding, settling on its haunches.

  It never goes. Not while you can imagine such things.

  She signals to the guest chair. ‘Sit!’ She says it without command, as if she is talking to an aging pet with arthritis. She waits until he’s in the seat with his hands clasped in his lap. ‘I’ve met Rabbi David Stern at Beth El twice now to plead Ben’s case.’

  Jay nods.

  ‘As Americans we both believe in the First Amendment.’ She shrugs and her head wobbles from side to side. ‘Unfortunately, David believes the First Amendment supports his right to protest at what is happening – to put his case forcibly enough to persuade Mr Costidy to change the casting for the Nazi boy.’

  ‘So no progress then.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that. My main argument after the school’s right to freedom of expression is that your boy Ben is not Jewish enough to be part of his congregation. And I tell him this does not sit well with his concern about Ben wearing the swastika. Either Ben is a Jew or he’s not. Stern’s response is to make a distinction between Ben’s Jewish ethnicity and his religious practice. I have to say, David has an annoying certainty about him. He doesn’t entertain doubt as many rabbis do.’

  ‘So it is Ben’s Jewishness that troubles him.’

  ‘His Jewish ethnicity, yes. ’

  Ethnicity – shethnicity. Ben is doing it – end of story.

  ‘And he’s not going to shift?’

  ‘He’s implacable. It’s not just a bee in his bonnet about Ben wearing the swastika, it’s also where it comes in the play. He’s turning this into some sort of personal crusade. As I say, I’ve not met many rabbis like him. Generally, we’re questioning – we turn to rabbinical teaching for our guidance. Rabbi Stern is a dogmatist. It’s as if his life depends on each decision he’s taken and he can’t turn back.’

  ‘Well we can do implacable too.’

  Good one, Jay! The MC is skipping on the spot clapping his fingertips together. The red gash of his lips splits into a wide smile revealing his off-white teeth.

  ‘If I say that Ben’s doing it, whatever Rabbi Stern says, do I still have your support?’

  ‘I’ve taken soundings. The elders here understand what Cabaret is – it has to be seen in the round. It’s a condemnation of Nazism and all it stands for. At Bar Shalom we stand for tolerance. We stand behind the production and we stand behind Ben’s part in it.

  She’s good this one. How we could have done with her in my time.

  There’s an uneasy truce in the Halprin household. Rachel is making preparations for the return to England. Like Rabbi Stern she sees the distinction between the family’s ethnicity and its religion. She has no intention of joining Jay and Ben in the synagogue. She accepts the Friday evening obligation to sit down to a formal family meal because it gives them an opportunity to spend time together. However, she doesn’t light the candles; nor will she recite the prayers. Jay cooks the meal and his recipes avoid pork and shellfish. In return Rachel expects Jay and Ben to think of their Sunday evening meal also as a mitzvah. Ben grudgingly accepts both. Jay hasn’t mentioned the mitzvah that married couples have sex on Shabbat. He’s not sure Rachel would believe it.

  It’s over the family meal on the Friday following the discussion with Rabbi Zwyck that Jay asks Ben for the latest news regarding Cabaret. He registers Rachel’s tight-lipped glance but ploughs on – this is his meal. ‘Rehearsals – how are they going?’

  Ben runs his fingers through the lank of his hair that hangs over his plate. Lamb cutlets from the kosher butcher in Burford Station swim with the vegetables in an overabundance of mint sauce that gives everything a green tinge. ‘It’s coming together?’ He transfers his fork to his left hand, picks up his knife and cuts the next mouthful of meat. ‘Yeah!’ He nods. ‘Coming together, yeah.’ He puts down his knife, transfers his fork to his right hand and starts using it like a shovel.

  Jay knows that Ben’s performance with the cutlery will stretch Rachel’s patience. ‘What about your song?’

  Ben nods. ‘Yeah. Going okay?’ He takes another shovel of food. It will be time for a repeat of the meat-cutting soon.

  ‘Any news of the protest?’

  Ben puts down the fork. He lets out a sharp breath as if to indicate this is his final word on this subject. ‘We know about it – course we do. But Mr C says we should ignore it? They’ve asked Rabbi Stern not to visit the school until it’s over. He only came in for Board meetings, so I don’t think it’s a problem.’

  ‘So basically, it’s all going smoothly.’

  ‘Cept for a group of seniors. They’re hardliners? They go to Beth El. They’ve held protest pickets at rehearsal times and put up posters around the place. But there’s fewer than ten of those guys. I think it’s cool they’re doing something about it? Most of us do. Free
dom of expression and all that?’ He makes to pick up his fork and Jay catches his eye, signalling with the cutlery in each of his own hands. Ben sighs and picks up both implements.

  They all resume the meal and Jay asks, ‘But they’re not singling you out?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The Beth El protestors.’

  ‘No, they want to ban all the Nazi insignia and the Heil Hitler. I think I’m being picked on because when my song comes it’s the end of the first half of the show? Everybody will be applauding for that but the swastikas appear at the same time? So it’s like they’re applauding the Nazis – me.’

  ‘So you’re not taking it personally – you’ll stick at it?’

  ‘Yeah. Why not?’

  ‘Exactly. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ He looks up at Rachel hoping for a sign of approval but her expression is blank.

  Jay has finished Isherwood’s Christopher and his Kind and is fascinated by the milieu. This is not driven by a prurient interest in the lives of the gays – although he’s finding their rampant lustiness attractive – but something connected to the personality of the city itself which Isherwood makes more alive in the memoir than he had in the earlier Berlin novels. Now that he’s a multi-millionaire, Jay luxuriates in the idea that he and Rachel will travel first-class by train to the city, arriving at Zoo station as Isherwood had done before.

  The W H Auden biography had been less illuminating. It deals with the poet’s time with Isherwood in Berlin only tangentially and gives the impression that Auden felt he had been thrown off like a worn-out coat. However, Auden did confirm the existence of Cameron Mortimer and admitted a brief affair in 1942.

  Jay accepts that any visit to Berlin will have to wait until their return to Europe so he puts it on the back burner. Of more immediate interest, in the acknowledgements of the Dexter Parnes mystery, the author thanks Meta Güttchen and Leo Plomer, ‘the friends I made in Berlin.’