“I’ll go along with that” said Kallen. “But I think it would help us if we could pull over some of the better respected members of the community. Now if Wasserman and Becker would come over—”
“Wasserman would never come over.” said the doctor, shaking his head.
“I think I know what might bring him around.” said Arons suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“If we got the rabbi to come over first.”
They all looked at him and then turned to Paff. “I don’t think the rabbi would come.” said Paff. “And I’m not sure that we want him. He’s pretty independent.”
“He’s popular with the kids.” said Arons stubbornly. “They like him. And you know how kids are these days. They rule the roost. None of them really want to go to Hebrew school. Who can blame them? So if the rabbi were with us, and the kids liking him, their folks might come over, if only to make sure that the kids go to school.”
“You’ve got a point.” said Paff. “What bothers me is that I don’t think I could sell him on the idea in the first place.”
“I’ll bet Wasserman could.”
“But he wouldn’t.” said Paff. “Remember, you’re trying to use the rabbi to sell Wasserman.”
“How about Becker?” asked Kallen.
“I’ll bet he’d go along. And he’d try to sell the rabbi on the idea. Then if we got the rabbi, we could get Wasserman.”
“Now that’s an idea.” said Paff. “Tell you what. I’ll drop in on Becker tomorrow.” He winked. “It’s getting to be trading time. This time maybe I’ll be interested in a Lincoln.”
Chapter Fifteen
Miriam opened the door of the rabbi’s study to say that Mr. Carter had come.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes, David, the carpenter. He’s come to fix the window cords and put up the screens.”
Mr. Carter, a big, raw-boned man, stood framed in the doorway, with his heavy kit of carpenter’s tools in one big gnarled hand showing no drag on his broad shoulders, like a businessman carrying a light attaché case. A lock of black hair fell across a slanting forehead; his face had the deep leathery tan of a man who spent much of his time outdoors.
“I arranged with the missus to come this morning,” he said, “but when I got here, the house was closed and there was nobody home. I don’t have much time today, but I can get started, and I’ll finish up tomorrow or Tuesday.”
“We were delayed and got back only an hour ago.” The rabbi frowned. “Frankly, Mr. Carter, I don’t like the idea of you working on Sunday, on your Sabbath. It doesn’t look right.”
“Oh, it’s not my Sabbath, Rabbi, and most of the folks in town know it. So don’t bother about what they might be thinking—”
“What do you mean? Are you the town atheist?” the rabbi asked with a smile as he led him inside to the windows that needed repair.
“No. I’m no atheist. I don’t go to church, but I’m no atheist. I keep the Sabbath, but it’s yours I keep, not Sundays.”
“Seventh-Day Adventist?”
“No. although I hold with a lot they believe in. I keep the Sabbath because that’s the day the Lord told me to keep.”
“How do you mean the Lord told you?”
“Well, it’s hard to explain—I mean just how He told me. You see it wasn’t words, but if you translate it into words, it would be something like, ‘Raphael, after spending six days in making the universe and everything in it, I rested, and that was a good thing, And what is good for Me is good for you, because I made you in My image. I want you to work six days in every week and then rest on the seventh. That’s the right proportion. And one is as important as the other.’”
The rabbi looked at him doubtfully, wondering if he were pulling his leg, but Carter’s face was open and without guile.
“And when did this happen?” asked the rabbi carefully, not knowing what sort of person he was dealing with.
“You mean when did the Lord give me that particular command?”
“I mean when did He talk to you?”
The carpenter laughed. “Bless you, Rabbi, it happens right along—real frequent. Sometimes more than at other times. Sometimes almost every day maybe for a week. And then weeks go by, and I don’t hear a thing. The first time I had a lapse like that. I got real worried. I tried to make contact and I prayed. I said, ‘Is there something Your servant has done that offends You?’ And I didn’t get any answer that day, but the very next day. He spoke to me again, and this time He told me not to worry about not hearing from Him—that He wouldn’t be talking to me unless He had something definite He wanted to tell me. And that if I didn’t hear from Him, it meant everything was going along all right. And thinking it over afterward, I had to admit that all that time things had been going along nicely for me—no trouble, no problems, just kind of humdrum, you might say.”
Carter had already begun, and he continued as he talked. He cleaned all the old putty out of the sash and then scooped a handful of putty from a tin and began to roll it in his hands. He straightened up, and the rabbi was startled to see that although his complexion was swarthy, his eyes were a clear, piercing blue.
“It was right after I was married. Me and the wife had just got back from our honeymoon to Niagara Falls, and we were visiting around—you know, her folks—aunts, uncles, she showing me off, so to speak—and to my aunts and uncles so’s I could show her off. It was kind of expected in those days. Well, we were visiting her Aunt Dorset and Uncle Abner. That was over by Lynnfield they lived. And there were other people there—cousins and such. And suddenly while we were all sitting in the parlor talking and Aunt Dorset was passing around some fruit. I heard a voice saying, ‘Stand upon thy feet, and I will speak to you.’ So. I got up and heard a voice talking, and it told me the first chapter of Genesis.
“Now, the point is that in all my life I had never read the Bible, but when I came to that day at Aunt Dorset’s, I could repeat that first chapter of Genesis almost word for word.”
“And what did your wife—and the rest of the company say?”
“They told me that I just stood there and didn’t talk to anyone for some minutes. They thought I was under some kind of spell, maybe like a cataleptic, and I guess there was even some discussion about going for a doctor.”
“And then?”
“And then the same thing happened the next day. I was on a job and working when it happened, and I was told another chapter. And I got a chapter or so every single day until I went right through the Pentateuch.”
“And then?”
Carter shook his head. “After that I would get messages only when I needed them.” He cut off a length of cord and rain it through the sash weight.
“How do you mean, when you needed them?”
He ran the weight up and down a couple of times to see if the pulley was moving freely. “Well. Rabbi, take the time the town voted on fluoridation. I was bothered about that. Myself. I didn’t think it was a good idea. I don’t believe much in chemicals—I mean taking them into your body. But the doctor who was taking care of my wife while she was having our last baby. I got to talking to him about it, and he was all for it. So I had doubts, you might say. Him being a fine man and respected. And then I got a message, and I knew I had been right in the first place.” He swung the window in and then turned around and faced the rabbi. “Look at me. Rabbi. I’m fifty-eight and never been what you might call really sick a day in my life. I’ve got all my teeth, and I don’t wear glasses. That’s because I live right. I don’t eat meat, and I don’t eat candy. I don’t drink tea or coffee or tonic.”