Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 24 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

“Clarification with Roy Hand,” was the first line in the calendar of the CEO of CentraBank, Gene Preisler. Not just this morning, but every single morning for the past two weeks. The lights in the office went on when Gene opened the door at a quarter to five in the morning. He didn’t even get a chance to close the door behind him before Roy also entered.

“You sent me a message three minutes ago that there’s news,” Gene said, without sitting down, as he switched on his computer.

“That’s right,” the computer security officer replied. “And a minute ago I received a message from my colleagues at other banks that this new matter is affecting them as well.”

“And?”

“The hackers left a message…nine minutes ago.” He walked over to the computer on the CEO’s desk, and the huge screen on the opposite wall came to life with the message:

It’s a shame that now, instead of stopping and clarifying where you are going, you are becoming more frantic in your pursuit of materialism.

“What is this?” Gene stared at the letters. “Someone’s decided to preach to us?”

“It’s not ‘someone.’ Notice the scribble there after the words, at the end.”

“Their signature.”

“Or not. We have no idea who and how many people are behind this whole thing.”

“Has Charlie seen this yet?”

“I assume so.”

“Let him pass it on to his superiors. I have no strength for this anymore.” Gene sank into his chair, and then a second letter, sat up straight again. The journalists hovering around constantly could pounce on such a photo of despair. The fact that the hack was not only a problem with his business, but one that applied to the entire American government, made things better for him in a way, but on the other hand, much more complicated. The investigators were driving him nuts every minute with questions, conclusions, and declarations, especially since the theory they had latched onto seemed totally outlandish in his opinion.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 23 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

Shimmy opened his eyes in a Chinese hospital. The military helicopter that had brought him here seemed like a blurry, hazy dream. But the soft mattress was very real, as was the IV line connected to his forearm. He sat up in the bed and looked around. If, just a few hours ago, his only desire was to get out of the hole he’d been thrown into, now, after three hours of deep sleep and some time to recover, he also felt the acute lack of his phone, wallet, and watch. Did the thieves actually think the watch was gold? It didn’t even look like gold; Batya’s parents were totally not on board with that kind of thing.

Two short policemen approached his bed. They asked him a few questions in broken English and photographed him from all sides, as if he was the offender and not the victim; then they disappeared.

Shimmy got himself together and davened, and then ate two cucumbers for breakfast. His tefillin were in his suitcase in his hotel, along with a few cans of kosher food that would quiet his hunger more than these scrawny cucumbers, but where was he and where was the hotel? He didn’t even know what province of China he was in now. Was he still in the Beijing area? Was Shio Ching up to date on what had happened to him?

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 22 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

The darkness on the mountainside grew thicker, and Shimmy discovered just how dark the world could be. Really dark. No lights from windows of buildings, no light from passing cars’ headlights. Thick darkness that enveloped everything. Somewhere above him, there were somewhat clearer skies; the road at the top of the mountain may have been lit up, but that light did not reach him. After exerted efforts to crawl, which included a scary fall and two smaller slides, he was about four meters higher than where he’d been when he first woke up, but it was still a far cry from where he had to get to.

He thought about Batya and about Shmuli. Did anyone know yet that he had disappeared? He didn’t call home every hour and a half, only once a day—and they’d already spoken that day. But his translator knew that he’d disappeared, and in that case, he should have updated Gedalya. If he had done so, then someone was surely searching for him already. The question was if they knew where to look—not that he had any suggestions to make on that front. He had no clue as to where he’d been thrown.

If his father was with him here, he would say that they were not alone, that Hashem hadn’t left them for even a moment. But if Tatty would be here, everything would look different. Not that he thought, chalilah, that it wasn’t true; he knew that Hashem was with him everywhere. But Hashem was also with those people who had disappeared, thrown to desolate places—the people who ultimately succumbed to dehydration and never returned.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 21 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

Shimmy squinted and cautiously moved his aching head. What was this place? It certainly wasn’t a dream, even if he really wanted to hope that it was. Darkness enveloped everything, but the moon was still there, dimly lighting up the area, and he realized he was lying at the foot of a rocky mountain. His palms were both scraped and bleeding, and if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a big bump on the back of his neck, on the right side. His entire body was aching, and where was his phone? Gone. Wallet? Gone. Wonderful!

Slowly, he sat up, feeling his muscles protesting at the effort. Little pebbles slid down under his feet, and he tried to see where this place started and where it ended. About five feet behind him was a dark copse of trees, and it didn’t seem to be a residential area. But from above, he could hear a faint, monotonous noise that sounded like cars. There must be a road at the top of this mountain, but how was he supposed to climb up?

Same way you came down, the joke would go. But even with the pounding headache and fuzziness that filled his brain when he tried to remember what had happened before he woke up and found himself in this place, it was very clear to him that he had not gone down; he’d been taken down. Or, to put it more accurately, thrown down, maybe from a moving car. You didn’t want the amusement park and uncontrolled dizziness? You got it all anyway—big time.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 20 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

A phone call from Ruchi’s mother is very unusual, certainly at the hour that I am finishing my breakfast. I tense, especially in light of the fact that Yudi did not answer or return my calls a whole day yesterday.

“Good morning,” I say as I carry my plates to the sink, aware that I’m not able to suppress the trace of anxiety in my voice. “Actually, good evening to you.”

“Yes, yes,” she says. “How are you?”

“Baruch Hashem.” I hesitate for a moment. “What’s doing? Is everyone okay?”

“In general, yes, but I wanted to speak to you about the specifics.”

“Of course.” I move aside the jewelry catalog that’s been sitting on the counter since last week; my daughter’s neighbor told her that right now, her suppliers are struggling financially, and she isn’t up to opening new branches. “The orthopedist appointment was yesterday, right?”

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 19 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

The stern-faced secretary’s first question is, “Have you brought cash?” and Ruchi’s mother immediately opens her wallet.

The sectary waits with frozen politeness until the woman across from her puts three hundred dollars down on the desk. She takes the bills, quickly scans them, and then asks Mrs. Katz to please wait.

“Come, Yudi,” his father-in-law says, while his mother-in-law pushes Isamar’s carriage to the waiting area. But Yudi stays standing at the desk, his foot shaking nervously.

“I prefer to wait here,” he says finally, “to see when it’s our turn.”

The secretary glances at him fleetingly and then goes back to her work.

“They will call us when it’s our turn,” Mr. Katz says.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 18 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

“You are not supposed to announce on the recording that we only got a response from one person!” Rubinson sounded furious. “People might think our hotline is not popular! The fact that you got only one response to your private initiative means nothing. Please, don’t mention any numbers from now on, okay?”

“I won’t. And what do you say, should I continue with the music?”

“I think so.”

In his home, Yaakov Shlomo took his suit jacket off the hook on the wall. “I need to go, Abe,” he said. “It’s almost shkiyah, and I haven’t davened Minchah yet.”

“You? It’s not like you to wait for the last minute.”

“There are some things that are not dependent on me,” the other man said quietly. “Hatzlachah, be well.”

“You, too, Yaakov Shlomo,” Rubinson said. He suddenly coughed. “And by the way, you should know that I happened to have had a chance to listen to that specific shiur, and I actually enjoyed hearing you sing and play. So yes, I think you should continue to do it. Maybe it will draw more listeners.”

*

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 17 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

Gedalya sounded very skeptical. “I can get you thirty thousand dollars, if you need it. The question is if you’re sure you want it. How did you get to him in the end?”

“His bat approached me again, and I simply spoke to it. Within a few minutes, he called my number.”

“And is his name really Yang Yang?”

“Apparently not. But now I know the address of his office.”

“Did you consult with anyone about this, Shimmy? With your father, for one?”

“With my father?” Shimmy slowly repeated the words. “I really love my father, Gedalya, but what does he have to do with anything? He’s not involved in the business world in any which way.”

“I think that taking such a big loan is not a decision that relates only to the business world; it’s mostly about the right outlook on things, experience, and common sense. So in essence, you’re going to take this step based purely on your own opinion?”

“I spoke with Katznelson, the one who made the computerized model of Tanchum for us.”

“He’s a great public relations guy.”

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 16 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

Batya walked out to the path, pushing Shmuli’s carriage. She basked in the sun’s gentle warmth, and when she glanced at the baby, she saw that he was also gazing wide-eyed at the brilliant blue sky.

“A bit of sun, an outing, and some wind won’t hurt us right now, right?” She smiled at him. “We have nowhere to hurry. Abba will be back for supper only in five days, at the earliest, b’ezras Hashem, because China is a country that keeps people very busy. So we can walk calmly to the grocery to buy some cheese and a few nice cucumbers. Who needs cooked food? You certainly don’t.”

She walked into the store and meandered down the aisles. She’d never loved to cook, and didn’t particularly care for cooked food either. Bread, cottage cheese, and a tomato were a perfect meal in her view, especially in the years when she’d come home late from school and didn’t want to become fleishigs. One of the hardest things she’d had to adjust to after her marriage was getting used to eating “real” meals, and, even more than that, cooking those meals.

The phone rang. Batya was surprised to see her mother-in-law’s number on the screen. In middle of the week? Even when Shimmy was in town, they hardly spoke by phone, and when such a conversation did finally take place, she was usually the one to initiate it. She was the one who remembered to call to say good Shabbos once in two or three weeks, or at least, a gut voch. But since when did her mother-in-law call her? When she needed something urgently, she called Shimmy, and even that was quite rare.

“Hello,” Batya answered the phone, while putting a few vegetables, a can of tuna, and a package of yellow cheese on the register counter.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 15 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

“How do you feel, Yaakov Shlomo? What’s with your legs and the walking?” Rubinson’s tone was not very sympathetic, and Yaakov Shlomo was not deceived by his solicitousness.

“Baruch Hashem, fine,” he answered. “Hashem should have mercy on all of us.”

“Yes, yes. Listen, I’m sorry that I’m pointing this out again, but we are going back to that same point: You are emphasizing your Yiddishkeit too much again, and I don’t like it. As it is, your talks are not such a popular option on my hotline, but there are a few people who do listen to you, and some even ask questions. Isn’t it a shame that they should stop listening only because they feel you are too lofty and abstract?”

“Abe.” Yaakov Shlomo sat up straighter on the couch. “It’s not abstract. I speak about emunah on a very real and existential level. Believe me that I don’t speak too loftily. Have you ever heard one of the shiurim, beyond just a few minutes?”

“Not really. I don’t have extra time.”

“So if you’d sometimes listen to a whole shiur from beginning to end, you’d be able to hear for yourself. I speak from my own life, and that’s exactly my life, do you understand?”

“But that’s not the life of some of your listeners! Don’t you get that?”