"Shimshon? Gittel speaking." No need to announce which Gittel, even though it was a common name in Israel.
From Shimshon, a cautious, "Shalom. Gittel." Calls from Gittel frequently involved finding housing for one of her indigent clients and he would be expected to shave his commission to boot.
"I have a very special problem. Shimshon, and so I'm calling the best first..."
"A furnished apartment at this time of year. Gittel? And for only three months? I'll look around, of course, but it's not going to be easy. I have nothing on my books right now."
Next she called Mair and then Itomar and then Shmuel, explaining to each why she was calling him first. Finally, she called Chaiah, who being a woman required a slightly different approach and tone. "I'm calling you. Chaiah, because it's a special problem that only a woman can really understand. You see, it's my own sister's daughter...
And it was Chaiah who voiced the difficulties that the others had hinted at. "Look, Gittel, you've got to be realistic. A furnished apartment like you want is not easy to get at any time, but right now, at this time of year, it's practically impossible. And you want it in Talbieh or Rehavia. The university men and the doctors who are going outside to teach or do research have already made their arrangements. If you had approached me in August, I could have given you your pick of half a dozen, but they'll be coming in January, you say. Who has a furnished apartment to rent at that time of year? I rented one last week, but it was for a whole year. And the kind of money they can pay, it's out of the question. My advice is to look around for a place in one of the hostels in the Old City or one of the convents that takes in travelers. Of course, if I hear of anything..."
Gittel herself knew that Talbieh and Rehavia were the two most desirable sections of the city and as such, expensive, but she was certain that no other place was suitable. She did not even know her niece except through snapshots and photographs that her sister in New York had sent over the years, and Rabbi Small only from the wedding picture, but she was quite sure she knew the kind of place they would want. She knew her sister and brother-in-law, so her mind worked, and hence she knew the kind of person their daughter would be and the kind of man she would pick for a husband.
She tilted back in her swivel chair, closed her eyes, to let her mind play with the problem, and the thought of Mrs. Klopchuk, whom she had seen professionally only the day before, came to her. A few minutes later she left her office and headed for her car in the parking lot. It was a ten-year-old Renault that moved by prayers and imprecations if she remembered to fill the gas tank. This time the car started without difficulty, which she took as a good omen. By a sort of reverse magic, it was also a good omen if she had difficulty in starting. When Gittel was determined on a course of action, there were no bad omens.
A quarter of an hour later she was in the Klopchuk apartment sipping at a cup of coffee without which social intercourse in Israel is impossible. "I’ve been thinking of your problem and I am beginning to have doubts about your idea"— it had been her own idea—"of renting your spare room to a college girl. The money she will pay you—"
"But the money is not important. Mrs. Schlossberg." the woman protested. "I told you I was willing to offer her a room and board in exchange for companionship and help with the housework."
"Ah, but that's what bothers me," said Gittel. "What kind of companionship can you expect from a young college girl? And for that matter, how much help will you get? You'll end up working for her. One night she's got a date, and the next night she's got to study for an exam or she has a paper to write. And you'll say, 'All right. I'll do the dishes. You study.' And if you find out that she is not a very good housekeeper, are you going to send her away after she's moved in? You know you won't be able to."
"So what can I do? I can't afford to hire anyone."
"How about your sister in Jerusalem?" Mrs. Klopchuk shook her head stubbornly.
"Why not?" Gittel persisted. "She's your sister. If you need help, she's the logical one."
"My sister. God bless her, on the New Year she calls me to wish me a good year. After my husband died and hers was still alive. I used to go there for the Passover. And that was all we ever had to do with each other."
"You are both getting on in years," said Gittel sternly. "These family quarrels. I know what they are. Someone said something and the other one answered, and you stop talking to each other except on the coldest and most formal basis. And most of the time neither party can remember what started the coldness in the first place. You have such a big family, you can afford to be on bad terms with a sister?"
Again Mrs. Klopchuk shook her head.
"Look what a wonderful arrangement it could be." Gittel said. "She could rent her apartment in Jerusalem and she could share living expenses with you here. It's a sister.
You have so much in common. You're both of an age—"
"She's older."
"So if she should happen not to feel so good one day, you can help her. You can take care of each other and you're both alone now—"
"I'd cut out my tongue before I'd ask her."
"But if I arrange that you don't have to, that she'll come down and visit with you for a few months?"
"She won't come. I tell you. And she won't rent her apartment to a stranger. She's so fanatic that she wouldn't trust anyone not to mix up her meat dishes with her milk dishes—"
"But suppose I arrange to rent her apartment to someone she can trust absolutely?" Gittel asked. "A rabbi, for instance?"
Chapter Nine
You are cordially invited to meet Rabbi and Mrs. Hugo Deutch and to wish godspeed to Rabbi and Mrs. David Small, who are leaving for an extended visit to the Holy Land. At the Temple Vestry. On Sunday, December 28. 4 to6VM?
So ran the invitation sent out to all members of the congregation. The job of drawing it up and arranging for printing and mailing had been assigned to Malcolm Slotnik, who was in the advertising business (Creative Communications by Slotnik. Direct Advertising a Specialty) and presumably was expert in this kind of thing.
There were objections, of course, when he submitted his draft to the board.
Bert Raymond said. "Gee. Mai. I had in mind something like. 'You are cordially invited to a reception in honor of...' you know, something formal."
"Where you been. Bert? That's from the Middle Ages. Today everything is simple and informal. You send the other kind of invitation and people are apt to show up in tuxedo or something."
"Maybe you're right. Mai." said Marty Drexler, "but you don't say who Rabbi Deutch is. I mean you ought to say something like...'ta-da, ta-da, ta-da to meet our new rabbi ta-da. ta-da, ta-da. '"
"Yeah, but then folks might get the idea that Rabbi Small was leaving for good."
"So?" Marty smiled and glanced at Bert Raymond.
"So, then there'd be a lot of questions and we might find ourselves having to do a lot of explaining. You take Al Becker, he's one of the rabbi's strongest supporters. Now. I got the Becker Ford-Lincoln account, and—"
"Yeah. I see your point." said Raymond. "As a matter of fact. I just started doing some of Meyer Paff s law work and I don't know how he'd take it either."
Stanley Agranat suggested that they ought to say. "our beloved rabbi."
"Since when is he your beloved rabbi?"