DISOWNED by Gabriella Murray

"He has no say about it."
     "He'll never let you do that to me."
       "Oh no? You watch and see." Then he turns promptly to Molly.  "Molly, if it's between me and your father?"
    Molly tosses her head a few times. "Do what you have to," she replies tautly.
    Henry is entirely triumphant now. "It's about time you said that to me. About time."
    ***
     
       Very early the next morning before she leaves for school, Rivkah runs downstairs to her grandfather. "Grandpa, Moshe," she bangs on the door loud.
       He comes quickly. "What's the matter?"
    "Let me in. Open the door, grandpa."
       "What's the matter with you?"
    "Open it wider! Let me in."
       "I can't. I'm not allowed."
       Then Rivkah hears Henry coming heavily down the stairs.
       "What's going on, Henry?" Moshe steps out into the hallway.
       "It's all over, Moshe." 
    "What?"
       "I'm in charge and you're not! This is my family."
    Moshe closes his eyes and starts humming, a little melody they sing when they study the Talmud.
       "Hum all you want. I'm in charge, Moshe."
    "Only God is in charge." Ever so slightly Moshe opens his eyes.
    "Don't give me that." Henry's hand clenches into a fist. "I'm taking Rivkah out of Yeshiva."
    For a flashing moment Moshe gasps. He grows pale and Rivkah's knees buckle.
       "You can't let him do that, grandpa."
       "I'm making her normal."
       "Dogs bark when the wind blows," Moshe replies to no one at all.
       "You think I care about your stupid phrases? “says Henry.
       "Grandpa, don't let him do it to me!"
    Moshe tilts his head, and looks past the two of them, up over their heads and through the tiny windows that line the hallway, to the street.  His white hand lifts for a moment and then falls back, limp like a pale leaf, to his side. "You are making a very great mistake Henry."
    Henry is silenced for a moment. Then he re-coups himself. “I’m not asking your advice."
    "Aren't you?" Moshe looks at him directly. With his piercing blue eyes, he stares through Henry, deep into his soul.
       "No, I'm not."
    "Then there's nothing further I can say."
    Rivkah starts to breathe quickly. "Of course you can! Tell him what grandma would have said. Tell him it can't be allowed."
       Moshe faces Rivkah directly. "Your grandma is gone. Nothing lasts. God sends different tests to everyone."
    "Please. I'm begging."
       "I didn't make the world this way."
       Cold, white ice pours through Rivkah's heart and mind.
       "This is your test. It's your lesson. Each soul needs its own repair. From this you must grow stronger."
       "Don't desert me, grandpa!"
       "I never desert anybody! I pray for each Jew every day. We are all in the exile. Not just you. There's nothing else I can do. We're forbidden to interfere with God's will."
       But even as he is speaking, Rivkah turns her back to him now. “I’ll always hate you for this," she whispers loudly to her father.
       "Someday you won't hate me. You'll see I meant the best for you."
       "It's not true," Moshe breathes softly. "You don't mean the best for her. Do you?"
    ***
    About two weeks later, very early in the morning, Henry stops Rivkah at the door before she leaves for school.
       "This is your last day at Yeshiva," he says. "Say good-bye to the people there."
       Terror washes through Rivkah like a merciless storm coming over a hill.
    Rivkah goes to school as if nothing is happening and acts as if it were a normal day. She does not say good-bye to anyone at the end of the day, and no one says good-bye to her either.
    Just as she is walking out of the door at the very end of the afternoon, the principal comes out of her room for a moment, walks over to Rivkah and touches her arm ever so lightly.
       "Rivkah," she says and looks at her with pools of pain in her eyes.
       "Yes?"
       "You were a wonderful student, Rivkah. Try not to forget." Then the principal leans over for a minute, kisses her on the head, and