Thursday the Rabbi Walked Out by Harry Kemelman

don’t you understand?” asked Jordon.
    “On the one hand you claim that Segal is a better man than you are, and on the other hand, you say you’re going to blackball him.”
    “So what? Suppose you’re gaga over some woman, and you know she’s mean and petty and downright nasty. Does that mean that you’ll stop desiring her? Desire, or dislike for that matter, or any of the emotions, they have a logic of their own.” He leered at the younger man. “When you’re young, you tend to be careful what you think. Ideas come into your head, but if they’re not the right kind of ideas, you push them away. Either you try not to think of them, or you twist them around to where they’re respectable. You’re afraid they’ll annoy your family or your boss or an important customer or client. But when you get to my age, especially where you don’t have a family or a boss or important customers, more particularly when you’ve been brushed by the wings of the Angel of Death as I have, then you don’t have to worry about strange ideas that come into your head. You can face them and even think them through, and then go on and do as you damn please.”
    “And it doesn’t bother you if you’re inconsistent?” urged Burkhardt.
    Jordon smiled broadly. “Not one damn little bit. So I can say that the Jew is a better man than I am, and I still don’t want him around.”
    “You know. Ellsworth.” Megrim mused, looking up at the ceiling, “this young fellow you’ve got living with you, the wife saw him yesterday at the bank and was saying she thought he looked Jewish.”
    Jordon stared blankly. “Oh, my God. I forgot all about Billy. Look. I’ve got to run along.” And rising hastily he left the room.
     
    Although he believed in discipline. Jordon was no martinet, and in handling Billy, Jordon had been careful never to be too severe, after all, the boy was not really under his jurisdiction, he was free to go and might well leave if things got unpleasant. Besides, he wanted Billy to like him.
    If he had thought that the boy was going to be so stubborn, he would not have locked him in his room in the first place, he had expected that Billy would certainly submit before it was time for him to go to the Agathon. When he did not, of course he had to carry out his threat, but he had intended to stay at the club only long enough for a drink and get back in half an hour at the latest, he had not intended to get involved in a long discussion, certainly not one that had lasted as long as this one had.
    He shut the front door with a bang and waited for the boy to call out and ask to be released, there was no response, a little worried now, he went to the door of the boy’s room and knocked, then, his ear to the door, he listened intently. Still hearing nothing, he turned the key and flung open the door, the room was empty!
    It was clear what had happened, the boy had climbed out of the window, no great feat since the room was just above ground level, the window was ajar an inch, obviously so that he could raise it easily and climb back in on his return. Nevertheless, he looked in the closet and was relieved to find that Billy’s clothes were still there. Jordon began to chuckle, then he slapped his thigh and roared with laughter, he left the room and locked the door once again, the boy had shown spirit and he liked that. What’s more, he had got his own way, and without whining or arguing, and his way of doing it had meant that neither of them had lost face, he admitted that he was pleased at how it had worked out.
    A thought occurred to him, and he reached for the phone and called Lawrence Gore.
    “Is Billy there with you. Larry?” he asked.
    “No, Ellsworth, he just left, anything important? I could yell to him from the window.”
    “No; and I’d rather you didn’t tell him I called.” He chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the bank and I’ll tell you about it. By the way, what time did he get there? – About eight?