Monday the Rabbi Took Off by Harry Kemelman Read Free Book Online Page A

right,” he said. “You know I left the network?”
    “I heard. Trouble with Ryan again?”
    “Not really.” He got up and began pacing the room. “I was just fed up. What kind of life is it for a man, running around, sometimes halfway across the world, to broadcast news that his listeners have already read in their newspapers?”
    “But you also made news,” she pointed out. “You interviewed important people, high government officials.”
    “Sure,” he said shortly, “and they never said anything that wasn’t already well-known official government policy.” He sat down again. “I’ve got a line on a job with educational TV. The same sort of thing, but there’s a lot more freedom to comment and to give background information. And in the meantime, I’m doing a book for Dashiel and Stone.”
    “Wonderful. Did you get a good advance?”
    It was typical of her, he thought, to ask about the financial arrangements before the subject. “Just barely enough to cover expenses.”
    “Oh.”
    “It’s a book on public opinion.” he went on. “what the man in the street really thinks.”
    “But you did all that on television,” she said.
    “No.” he said, warming to the discussion. “There they knew they were being interviewed. But for the book I’m going to be using a lapel mike and a pocket tape recorder. Suppose I’m in a restaurant and a couple of people at the next table sound interesting. I just switch on the recorder and tape their conversation to play over and analyze at my leisure.”
    “I’m sure it will make an interesting book.” she said politely.
    He finished his drink and put the glass down on the end table beside his chair.
    “Refill?” she asked.
    “No. I guess not.” He leaned back for the first time and looked about him. relaxed. “No need to ask you how you are. You’re looking beautiful as ever.”
    She gave him a quick glance to see if there was anything more intended than the polite gallantry in the remark. “I’m working pretty hard.” she said.
    “Well, I must say it agrees with you. Laura.” He nodded at the wall. “That painting is new. isn’t it?”
    “Uh-huh. It’s a Josiah Redmond. He’s doing a cover for us. I don’t own it – yet. It’s on loan. I want to live with it for a while first to see if I want to buy it.”
    He knew of Redmond by reputation. He was a chaser, and his work came high. He wanted to ask her jokingly if she was pursuing the same policy with the painter as with the painting, but he held back; he knew it would come out harsh and bitter. Besides, she could well afford to buy the painting in the usual way. As a senior editor at Co-ed, she must be making a good salary. So he merely nodded, and focused on the picture while he waited for her to tell him why she had written that she must see him.
    “I must see you,” the letter had said. “It is of the utmost importance that we discuss Roy’s future. I am extremely worried… ” for a couple of pages, every sentence containing at least one italicized word. Her speech was a little that way: too, and when they first went together, he had found it strangely attractive, giving a kind of breathless excitement to her discourse. Later he had found it a little trying.
    “I got a letter from Roy.” she began.
    “Oh, he writes you, does he?” And this time the bitterness slipped out. “I haven’t heard from him since he went to Israel.”
    “Perhaps if you wrote him–”
    “I wrote him twice. Am I supposed to continue in the hope that he’ll break down and answer?”
    “Well.” she said, “he’s unhappy.11
    “That’s nothing new. He was unhappy at college. His whole generation is unhappy.”
    “He wants to come home.” she went on. “So why doesn’t he?”
    “And lose a. year in his studies? If he comes home now, he won’t get any credit for the courses he’s taking at the university.”
    “That doesn’t bother these kids nowadays.” Stedman said. “They switch from one