Yiddish for a moment and one asks, âAre you Miriamâs son?â
âYes.â
They both smile and offer their hands. The taller one is called Yussi and the guy with all the questions is Svi. They sit back down and continue their discussion so close to each other that the brims of their hats overlap. They speak in both Yiddish and English. I think theyâre talking about a farm animal or a plowing animal and what to do if your animal kills another manâs animal. Some Talmudic thing. Another man, older than Yussi and Svi, about thirty, with freckled skin and a red-haired version of the Hasidic beard,stands alone by the window. He grins at me and takes a sip from his glass.
â
Shalom aleikhem
, my name is Avram. Stolichnaya?â he says, holding up the bottle.
âNo, thank you.â I can see my mother through the
mechitzah
. Sheâs talking to Becca and looking my way.
âFriend of Pinchus?â Avram says.
I shake my head. âSorry. I donât speak Yiddish.â
âNo, no, Pinchus, Pinchus, the rabbi, Mr. Danowitz.â
âOh, Peter,â I say, and Svi and Yussi both look up at me.
âWeâll start in two minutes,â Becca announces from the dining room.
I look for Debra through the wall but only see Sarah. She is taller and nicer and blonder and foxier than any
baalai teshuva
Iâve ever seen. When I wave to her, she waves back with a smile, a flirty smile. Svi and Yissi are standing now but still talking about the farm animal.
âVerse thirty-five,â Yussi says. âA manâs beast injures his neighborâs beast and it dies, they shall sell the animal and divide its price. They shall also divide the dead animal. So the lesson here is that because the ox had never shown any tendency toward harming any other livestock, the owner is only obligated to pay half the damages.â
âHalf?â says Svi. âNo.â
âIt was an accident, a onetime thing. If the ox had previously gorged another ox or any other animal and the owner didnât slaughter it or, or, or, or . . . pen it up for doing so, then the owner bears full liability.â
âSo just lie,â says Svi. âIf your ox has gorged and gorges again, just say itâs never happened before.â
Avram laughs like this:
hut, hut, hut
. Like machine-gun fire. He holds his glass against his cheek.
âGive it a rest for a while, boys. Isnât your life about to change, young Svi?â
Svi smiles, nods, and pulls the brim of his hat lower.
âDavid,â Debra says and I walk to the
mechitzah
. She puts her finger through the triangular cutouts. I hook my thumb over her pinkie and we laugh a little.
âIâm so glad to see you,â I say.
âSheâs so mad about yesterday.â
âIâm sorry. I shouldnât have brought you. It was a mistake. I was only thinking of Dad and what heâd want.â
âDena,â my mother says, and our fingers come apart. âOver here now, please.â
âItâs time,â Debra says. âShaindee is about to announce sheâs a
kallah
.â
âA what?â I say.
âA bride.â
All of the women and Peter Rabbi come out of the kitchen and to the front hall. Yussi, Svi, and Avram all walk next to me. Shaindee, Sarahâs older sister, is pretty like Sarah but already a snood, you can tell. Itâs all behind the eyes and the way she walks, like a waddling, wearisome duck. She sits on a folding chair in the center of the room. Sarah sits next to her and the rest of the family stands around them. Peter Rabbi says a prayer: â
Od Yishama Bâarai YehudaUâvchutzos Yerushalayim, Kol Sason vâKol Simcha, Kol Chatan vâKol Kalah
. Let it speedily be heard in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem, the sound of joy and the sound of happiness, the sound of a bride and the sound of a groom.â
Svi now walks around