"I don't remember running across it in the minutes of last year's meetings," said the secretary.
"That's right." said Raymond. "I don't recall anything like that."
"Naturally," said Gorfinkle. "The rabbi attended board meetings in those days. We couldn't very well discuss it at the regular meetings."
"In that case." the president interjected, "we have to assume that it was just something that was talked about informally by some of the members. I don't feel that we're bound by it."
"I was just giving you the background." said Gorfinkle stiffly.
"All right, suppose we take that as a starting point." said the president. "How do you guys feel about Ben's idea of a lifetime contract and a year's sabbatical leave?"
"All I can say is it strikes me as a pretty sweet deal." said Agranat. "Mind you. I got nothing against the rabbi, but it's a sweet deal."
"On the contrary," said Gorfinkle. "it's the usual thing. The rabbi was on trial for a year, and then he was given a five-year contract. The next one is usually a still longer contract, and in most places it's for life."
"How do they work the salary on these contracts?" asked Marty Drexler. "Are there annual increments or—"
"I suppose." said Gorfinkle. "or some arrangement for cost of living adjustments. We didn't go into it at the time."
"Seems to me there's a lot of thinking we got to do about this." said Drexler. "If we give him a sabbatical, we're going to have to hire a replacement while he's gone. Think about that for a while."
"What are you getting at, Marty?" asked the president.
"I'll tell you what I'm getting at. This is a temple, and he is a rabbi. It's religion and all that. But a contract is a business deal. I don't care who it's between. Everything has to be spelled out, and each side has to make the best deal they can. Take, for instance, what I said before about the cost of rabbis going up from year to year. That's true, but you take when a rabbi gets to be around fifty, his chances of getting another job are not so good. He's like over the hill. So there he's a little weaker and we're in a little stronger position. He's what? Thirty-five or so now?
So suppose we offer him a fifteen-year contract with the idea of negotiating again when that expires."
"Gee, I don't know..."
"That's kind of dirty."
"What's dirty about it?" demanded Drexler.
Stanley Agranat waved his hand. "I want to make a motion."
"What's your motion?"
"Just a minute. Mr. Chairman, there's a motion on the floor."
"What motion?"
"There's no motion on the floor. We were just discussing, kind of chewing the fat."
Raymond rapped on the table with his gravel. "Just a minute, let's get organized. Nobody made a motion, so there's no reason why Stan can't make one. Go ahead, Stan."
"I move. Mr. Chairman, that you appoint a committee to go and see the rabbi and kind of feel him out and get the lay of the land—"
"You sure it's the rabbi you got in mind. Stan?"
The chairman rapped on the table. "C'mon, guys, get serious."
"Well, to be serious." said Goodman. "I'd like to amend Stan's motion and make it a committee of one, and I'd like to nominate Marty Drexler for the job."
"Yeah, that's right, let's have just one guy deal with him."
"How about it? You all in favor of having one guy do the negotiating?"
"Right."
"The only way."
"The only fair way— one against one."
"All right." said Bert Raymond. "All in favor say aye; all opposed, nay. The ayes have it. But I think maybe / ought to talk to him instead of Marty."
"No, let Marty."
"Why Marty? As the president of the congregation, it seems to me that I ought to talk to him."
None of them liked to say that they were afraid he might give away too much, but Paul Goodman offered to explain. "I suggested Marty in the first place because he's the treasurer and this is definitely a money matter. Besides. Marty is in the finance business and knows all about the angles that got to do with cost of living increases and that kind of thing. But if not Marty, then it seems to me that you'd be the last one we'd want. Bert, just because you are the president. Marty or somebody else can always say he's got to check with the board for further instructions or for approval of any deal he might arrange, but anything the president proposed, we'd feel we'd have to back him up on it. And if you promised something and then we didn't back you up, it would put you in a funny spot if you had to go back and say your board wouldn't go along."
"All right." said Raymond, "you see the rabbi, Marty, and work something out."
Chapter Three
Miriam opened the door and ushered Marty Drexler into the living room where the rabbi was sitting. "Since it's temple business. Mr. Drexler. I'll leave you two—"
"Well, maybe you ought to sit in on this. Mrs. Small." said Marty. "In my own business when it's family finances like our family plan loan. I always tell the client to come in with his wife. You know what I mean?"
"Of course. Mr. Drexler. if you prefer."
The rabbi had risen, and he now motioned their guest to a chair and then sat down himself. "This has something to do with our family finances. Mr. Drexler?"
Marty Drexler smiled, a beaming loan company smile. "I'd say it has. We voted in the board to give you a contract, and Bert Raymond appointed me like a committee of one to get all the little details ironed out with you."
"That's very kind of them." said the rabbi pleasantly. He leaned back in his chair and looked ceilingward. "Of course. I tend to think of a contract as an agreement between two equal parties since each has something that the other wants, rather than as something that one party confers on the other."
Drexler was determined not to be put out. He nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right at that. I meant I'm here to negotiate it."
"And why at this time?" asked the rabbi.
Drexler looked at him reproachfully. "Rabbi." he said, "we're grown men. We're not a bunch of kids. We got the message. You send us a letter asking for a leave of absence; it didn't take us long to realize that you were tickling us on the contract. After all. we're all businessmen. All right, maybe we been a little remiss. Maybe we been sitting on our fannies— sorry. Mrs. Small— when we should’ve been tending to business. But to tell the truth, we're kind of new to the game. We figured it was just like a matter of form. All right. I'm sorry; we're all sorry. Now let's get down to business. Suppose you tell me what you have in mind, and I'll tell you what the boys figured was fair. Then if there's a gap between us, we'll chin about it. And you feel free to talk up, Mrs. Small, because you're as much concerned as the rabbi is, I guess. Maybe even more because I always say that it's the lady of the house that's the homemaker. She's the one who knows how much groceries the family needs and how much they're going to cost. So. you folks lay it right on me, and then I'll tell you how the board feels. We'll work out something, and if it's different from what we had in mind. I'll discuss it with the board and then come back here and see you about it again until we get it all straightened out. Fair enough?"
"It's fair enough. Mr. Drexler." said the rabbi. He hesitated and tapped the arm of his chair with his fingertips as he marshaled his sentences to explain. "You may find this hard to believe. Mr. Drexler, but when I sent that letter, all I was interested in was a leave of absence. That's still all I'm interested in. I haven't given any thought to the matter of a contract, and I don't think that I'm prepared to think about it right now. A leave of absence I asked for, and it's a leave of absence that I want."