Joshua: A Brooklyn Tale by Andrew Kane Read Free Book Online Page A

when Paul had confided in the rabbi about his own sleep problems, the rabbi had responded with a wide smile, suggesting, “Vhy not spend that time studying? It’s quiet late at night, good for your concentration.”
    Paul found Rabbi Weissman easy to talk with, and always sympathetic; beyond that, he had a sense that the rabbi understood anguish in a way that few men could. During the summer, the rabbi frequently rolled up his sleeves, and Paul would glimpse the number on his left arm. Paul had learned about the concentration camps in school, and had chosen not to ask the rabbi for specifics. It was a wise choice, for this was a subject the rabbi never discussed.
    The private lessons were actually the rabbi’s idea. He had been Paul’s teacher in Sunday School for two years, had noticed the boy’s interest in Judaism, and had brought it to the attention of Alfred and Evelyn, who were both bewildered as to how their son came to care about such things. Alfred had minimal interest in Judaism and, in fact, had worked hard at putting that part of his life behind him. True, he wanted Paul to do well at his Bar Mitzvah, and had therefore agreed to the private lessons, but that had nothing to do with religion. If he and Evelyn were ever in agreement on anything, it was that they didn’t want some Hasidic rabbi from Brooklyn, who comes out to the suburbs once a week for extra money, converting their son to the “old ways.” After the Bar Mitzvah, the rabbi would be gone.
    Paul was silent. The Bar Mitzvah was just three weeks away, and he was suspicious of his parents’ plans for the rabbi once it was all done.
    Alfred returned to his paper. He had spoken his piece. Loretta observed them from the corner of her eye as she busied herself with the pots and pans. She wouldn’t have to fix breakfast for the lady of the house; all Evelyn ever had in the morning was a cup of coffee.
    A few moments later Alfred left for work, while Paul sat there, playing with the food on his plate. Loretta watched him for a moment, then said, “He’s real hard on you sometimes.”
    “How can you tell?” Sarcasm.
    She walked over to the table and sat herself across from him. She often sat with Paul when it was just the two of them. He didn’t mind; she was his friend.
    “Your father always wants what he wants, and there’s no stopping him once he makes up his mind. I think you can be stubborn too, you know,” she said.
    “I suppose.”
    “He just wants you to be the best, and he knows you can be.”
    Paul nodded, but—in truth—he couldn’t see why Loretta had such a flattering perception of him.
    “Seems silly, though, his worrying about your Bar Mitzvah, don’t it? You’re a smart boy, and you’re always working hard and studying. There’s no need for him to be worrying.”
    Paul was pensive for a moment. “I suppose I should get going,” he said, eyeing the clock on the wall.
    “Yes, you should.”
    They both stood up, and Loretta walked over to him. She put her hands on his shoulders, looked him in the eye, and added, “You know, you can always talk to me if you need.”
    “I know.”
    She wanted to hug him, but stopped herself. She used to caress him all the time when he was younger, but hadn’t in many years. The same for Joshua. She missed those days, but she understood that boys do eventually have to become men, a thought that left her sad and empty.
     
    It was just a few minutes before noon and Dr. Harold Goldman sat in his Hewlett Bay Academy office reviewing the file on his next client, Paul Sims. Remarkable , thought Goldman, assessing the boy’s progress. Paul had first come to him over a year ago as a withdrawn, angry kid, refusing to talk about anything. The school had insisted on the treatment, if Paul was to remain enrolled. An embarrassment for Alfred and Evelyn, but by that time they had no choice.
    Paul had no choice either, and he never stopped reminding Goldman of his resentment at having been forced to