The Chosen

'Danny is now like a person waiting to be let out of jail. He has only one desire. To leave the jail. Despite what may be waiting for him outside. Danny cannot think one minute beyond the moment he will have to tell his father he does not wish to take his place. Do you understand me?'

'Yes.'

'You will talk to him?'

'Of course.'

My father nodded grimly, his face troubled. 'I have not talked to Danny in so long,' he said quietly. He was silent for a moment. Then he smiled faintly. 'It is not so easy to be a friend is it, Reuven?'

'No,' I said.

'Tell me, Danny and Reb Saunders still do not talk?'

I shook my head. Then I told him what Danny had said about silence. 'What does it mean to hear silence, abba?'

That seemed to upset him more than the news about Danny's not becoming a tzaddik. He sat up straight on the bed, his body quivering. 'Hasidim!'I heard him mutter, almost contemptuously. 'Why must they feel the burden of the world is only on their shoulders?', I looked at him, puzzled. I had never heard that tone of contempt in his voice before.

'It is a way of bringing up children,' he said.

'What is?'

'Silence.'

'I don't understand…!

'I cannot explain it. I do not understand it completely myself.

But what I know of it, I dislike. It was practised in Europe by some few Hasidic families.' Then his voice went hard. 'There are better ways to teach a child compassion.'

'I don't…!

He cut me short. 'Reuven, I cannot explain what I do not understand. Danny is being raised by Reb Saunders in a certain way. I do not want to talk about it anymore. It upsets me. You will speak to Danny, yes?'

I nodded.

'Now I have work I must do.' And he went from the room, leaving me as bewildered as I had been before.

I had planned to talk to Danny the next day, but when I saw him he was in such a state of panic over his brother that I didn't dare mention what my father had said. The doctors had diagnosed his brother's illness as some kind of imbalance in the blood chemistry caused by something he had eaten, Danny told me over lunch, looking pale and grim, and blinking his eyes repeatedly. They were trying out some new pills, and his brother would remain in the hospital until they were certain the pills worked. And he would have to be very careful from now on with his diet. Danny was tense and miserable all that day and throughout the week.

Levi Saunders was discharged from the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital the following Wednesday afternoon. I saw Danny in school the next day. We sat in the lunchroom and ate for a while in silence. His brother was fine, he said finally, and everything seemed to have settled down. His mother was in bed with high blood pressure, though. But the doctor said it was caused by her excitement over Levi's illness and all she needed now was to rest. She would be better soon.

He told me quietly that he was planning to write to three universities that day – Harvard, Berkeley, and Columbia – and apply for a fellowship in psychology. I asked him how long he thought he would be able to keep his application a secret.

'I don't know,' he said, his voice a little tight.

'Why don't you tell your father now and get it over with?'

He looked at me, his face grim. 'I don't want explosions with every meal,' he said tightly. 'All I get are either explosions or silence. I've had enough of his explosions.'

Then I told him what my father had said. As I spoke, I could see him become more and more uncomfortable.

'I didn't want you to tell your father,' he muttered angrily.

'My father kept your library visits a secret from me,' I reminded him. 'Don't worry about my father: 'I don't want you to tell anyone else.'

'I won't. What about what my father said? Are you going to remain an Orthodox Jew?'

'Whatever gave you the notion that I had any intention of not remaining an Orthodox Jew?'

'What if your father asks about the beard, the caftan, the- '

'He won't ask me: 'What if he does?'

He pulled nervously at an earlock. 'Can you see me practising psychology and looking like a Hasid?' he asked tightly.

' I hadn't really expected any other answer. Then something occurred to me. 'Won't your father see the mail you get from the graduate schools you've applied to?'

He stared at me. 'I never thought of that,' he said slowly. 'I'll have to intercept the maiclass="underline" He hesitated, his face rigid. 'I can't. It comes after I leave for schooclass="underline" And his eyes filled with fear.

'I think you ought to have a talk with my father,' I said.

Danny came over to our apartment that night, and I took him into my father's study. My father came quickly around from behind his desk and shook Danny's hand.

'I have not seen you in such a long time,' he said, smiling warmly. 'It is good to see you again, Danny. Please sit down.'

My father did not sit behind the desk. He sat next to us on the kitchen chair he had asked me earlier to bring into the study.

'Do not be angry at Reuven for telling me,' he said quietly to Danny. 'I have had practice with keeping secrets.' Danny smiled nervously.

'You will tell your father on the day of your ordination?' Danny nodded.

'There is a girl involved?'

Danny nodded again, giving me a momentary glance.

'You will refuse to marry this girl?'

'Yes.'

'And your father will have to explain to her parents and to his followers.'

Danny was silent, his face tight.

My father sighed softly. 'It will be a very uncomfortable situation. For you and for your father. You are determined not to take your father's place?'

'Yes,' Danny said.

'Then you must know exactly what you will tell him. Think carefully of what you will say. Think what your father's questions will be. Think what he will be most concerned about after he hears of your decision. Do you understand me, Danny?'

Danny nodded slowly. There was a long silence.

Then my father leaned forward in his chair. 'Danny,' he said softly, 'you can hear silence?'

Danny looked at him, startled. His blue eyes were wide, frightened. He glanced at me. Then he looked again at my father. And, slowly, he nodded his head.

'You are not angry at your father?'

Danny shook his head.

'Do you understand what he is doing?'

Danny hesitated. Then he shook his head again. His eyes were wide and moist.

My father sighed again. 'It will be explained to you,' he said softly. 'Your father will explain it to you. Because he will want you to carry it on with your own children one day.'

Danny blinked his eyes nervously.

'No one can help you with this, Danny. It is between you and your father. But think carefully of what you say to him and of what his questions will be.'

My father came with us to the door of our apartment. I could hear Danny's capped shoes tapping against the outside hallway floor. Then he was gone.

'What is this again about hearing silence, abba?' I asked.

But my father would say nothing. He went into his study and closed the door.

Danny received letters of acceptance from each of the three universities to which he had applied. The letters came in the mail to his home and lay untouched on the vestibule table until he returned from school. He told me about it in early January, a day after the third letter had come. I asked him who usually picked up the mail.

'My father,' he said, looking tense and bewildered. 'Levi's in school when it comes, and my mother doesn't like climbing stairs.'

'Were there return addresses on the envelopes?'

'Of course.'

'Then how can't he know?' I asked him.

'I don't understand it,' he said, his voice edged with panic. 'What is he waiting for? Why doesn't he say something?'

I felt sick with his fear and said nothing.

Danny told me a few days later that his sister was pregnant. She and her husband had been over to the house and had informed his parents. His father had smiled for the first time since Levi's bar mitzvah, Danny said, and his mother had wept with joy, I asked him if his father gave any indication at all of knowing what his plans were.