Yehuda called to apologize. He said he hadn’t spoken nicely that day on the moshav and perhaps had pressed Zevi a bit too hard.

“Exactly,” Zevi replied. It was quiet in the house. The little ones were sleeping after a tiring trip, the older ones were reading or playing quietly, and his parents had gone out for a walk.

“So…do you forgive me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“I want the truth.”

Zevi smiled. “It’s okay, Yehuda. I know it’s because you care.”

“You sure?” Yehuda pressed.

“Yes.”

“And you forgive me?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Keep Reading…

The familiar gate came into view, and just as they approached and were about to enter, someone emerged. Zevi heard his mother politely greeting the man who had come out of the yard, clearing the path for them. And then Zevi saw him: the man who had been following him.

“Hello,” Ima’s cousin said. “Zevi, right?”

“Right,” the boy responded. His mother hung back and didn’t say a word.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Eliyahu.”

Did he sound flustered? Zevi wasn’t sure. He solemnly shook the proffered hand. Here he was. The man who had caused…

Caused?

Caused what?

Have you forgotten again what the doctor’s husband had to remind you?

Zevi leveled his gaze at the man who was still clutching his hand. Eliyahu was of average height, with slight shoulders and a big, brown-orange-reddish beard. He had sparkling brown eyes that seemed to smile all the time, reminding Zevi of his grandfather’s smile. Perhaps he, Zevi, would also look something like that in twenty years’ time. He returned the man’s smile with a small one of his own.

“You’ve sure grown a lot,” Eliyahu said. Then he turned toward Shoshi. “Can I borrow him for a little while? Don’t worry; I’ll give him back soon.” Keep Reading…

Don wasn’t answering the phone again, and Eliad slammed down the receiver after seven rings. If Don wanted to play games—he could go right ahead. But he’d have to find someone else to play with. Why was he taking personal offense for Sol? And how did he dare go and blame his roommate for it?

The lawsuit was being filed by the army, not the soldiers who had been harmed. Don had been questioned once, but was then let go. Sol, by contrast, was deep in hot water. Two hearings had already taken place, and the prosecutor had succeeded in locating three other people who had been harmed by Sol’s fake creams. Reb Eliyahu, his brother-in-law Gavriel’s rabbi, was dealing with one of the claims. His cousin had lost four toes because of one of Sol’s products.

Sol wasn’t being sued now for the forgery, because he already produced the creams under his own name, but rather for producing and distributing medical products in violation of pharmaceutical regulations. And since the minute the lawsuit had gotten rolling, Don had been stubbornly ignoring his and Eliad’s friendship. Aside from that first visit, when Dr. Lorenstein had given him a dressing down and taught him a thing or two about how to speak to other people, as Elia had put it, Don hadn’t visited again, nor had he picked up the phone and called like Eliad’s other friends had. He hadn’t even sent regards—nothing. Eliad was ready to shrug off the whole friendship; it wasn’t like he’d gotten all that much out of it anyway, and he would manage just fine without Don.

Actually, Reb Eliyahu had called him yesterday to ask how he was doing and had described the hearing from the day before. He related that Sol had been asked to describe how he prepared his “wonder-working” creams. Keep Reading…