Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 85 of a new online serial novel, Outside the Bubble, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters.
Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications.
When Shimon Weisskopf arrived on the scene, things progressed much more smoothly than expected. He walked into the emergency room building with a tall, broad fellow, whose confident stride elicited respect, despite the fact that at his side was a little girl, with her hand tucked into his.
The six-year-old girl skipped ahead and tried to pull the man—who seemed to be her father—forward at her pace. “Where is he?” she called as she looked in every direction. “Where is Mike?”
Michoel Perl gave Shimon a warm slap on the back. “Ah, you’re here!” he said, and looked behind him at the hospital room. “It took you quite a long time, huh? We made up to meet half a year ago or so!”
“Not exactly,” Shimon corrected him. “You said then that you’ll consider whether or not to keep me employed.”
“Oh, that’s right. So, I decided that I want to keep employing you!”
Martin, the tall man, and the child were the only witnesses to the encounter between Shimon and Michoel. Dr. Jerry was still in the corridor talking to the two agents. His expression was as calm and irritating as always, but Martin could discern a thin line of tension between his eyes.
Michoel Perl walked with his hand on Weisskopf’s shoulder, and turned to the doctor. “Sir, you don’t mind if I take a little vacation with my nephew, right?”
He was standing erect, holding his tefillin bag, and the expression in his eyes was more determined than Martin had ever seen it be. The psychiatrist looked at him, and he, too, seemed to realize that the minute Michoel had sensed that his freedom was imminent, he was overcome by something that the doctor had never seen in him before.
“Yes, a vacation! For my brother, too!” the girl piped up, jumping into the conversation. “Where is he?”
“We’ll find out right away,” her father said, turning to look at Skulholt. “There are a few people who can provide us with information about it.”
“There are two tickets booked for you,” Weisskopf whispered to Michoel and Martin. “On a flight that leaves from here to New York this evening. I don’t think you should have any problem leaving now. But just to be sure, I brought this man along with me. He’s the father of Mike Kopshitz—you know, your young friend. Mr. Kopshitz is a very well-connected person.”
Michoel frowned. “Where was he until now?”
“Well, his son didn’t want to come home.”
“And now he does?”
“Yes, that’s what Mart—Yosef told me on the phone.”
“Yosef…? Sure, Yosef. He will have to tell me who exactly he is, this little troublemaker,” Michoel said with a half-smile. “Did you know that he got into my house in Yerushalayim, Shimon? Because he was running away from the police? Have you heard about this?”
“He’s a really good guy,” Shimon said. “He’ll tell you all the details, I’m sure, but for now, you should just know that there was nothing criminal about what happened.”
“Alright, alright….” Perl murmured.
“And without him, I’d never have been able to get to you. And without him, it would have taken our family a lot longer to figure out that something had happened to you.”
Mike Kopshitz’s father strode over to the agents talking to the psychiatrist. “I want to see my son,” he said. “I’m talking about Mike Kopshitz, Mr. Doctor, yes? I demand to see him, now. We received a message that he doesn’t want to be in your place any longer.”
“We don’t tie anyone up.” Dr. Jerry looked at Mr. Kopshitz with surprise in his eyes. “Anyone who wants can always leave. Not that I’m sure how stable your son’s abilities and desires are right now…”
“Where is he now?” Mike’s father ignored the wordy answer. The agents were quiet.
“I don’t know. Maybe he went back to the center.”
“He did not,” Martin interjected. “He wouldn’t have gone back now, not when he wanted so desperately to leave. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”
“We’ll find him,” one agent said, and put his hand out. “Mr. Gerald Kopshitz, is that right?”
“I’ll find him by myself!” the girl volunteered, and pulled her hand out of her father’s. “Mike! Mike! Where are you? I’ve been missing you for so long! We’ll go home and fight our anorexia there together, okay?” She ran down the hall, shouting, “Okay, Mike? Mike? Mike Kopshitz?!”
Heads turned as she passed, but she didn’t care. “You’ll help me, I’ll help you…you know that when two people do something together, it’s much easier than one person doing it alone! You don’t need this healing place anymore! Mike!” Her ear-splitting screaming did not let up as she continued running, with her father hot on her heels. Martin joined them. “Mike, we know that you want to go home! So what are you waiting for? Mike! Mike! Where—Mike!!”
The third cry was different from the previous two, and Becky leaped ahead to the entrance of a narrow hallway. Her brother was standing there, almost as thin as he had been the day he’d left home.
“Your screaming could wake the dead, Becky!” he said, looking around uneasily.
“Because I didn’t want you to hide from me anymore!” she answered triumphantly, as she studied him from head to toe.
“I wasn’t hiding from you,” he mumbled.
His father finally arrived a few seconds later, and he shook his son’s hand and gave him a quick hug over the shoulders. “We missed you, Mike,” he said. “The famous Dr. Skulholt is busy right now talking to a few agents, and he won’t prevent you from going home—if you want to. We really want you to come, Mike.”
“Yes…” Mike shifted awkwardly. “I’d be happy to come home with you, Dad. Um…but I need my things. They’re not here.”
“We’ll go and get them. I’ll talk to one of the people here, have someone accompany us to make sure that there won’t be any problems at the healing center. I understand that your psychiatrist is being delayed here for now. Maybe it will be simpler without him there with us.”
“Excuse me?” Martin Posner interjected. “My things are also there, and they also have my passport.” Yosef’s passport. His real one was hidden in his shirt. “Would it be okay if I join you to get my stuff from there too?”
“Sure,” Mr. Kopshitz said agreeably.
“Great, I’m coming with all of you, too!” Becky announced cheerfully. Suddenly, she grimaced and stuck her tongue out at her brother. “You’re a bad brother, Mike! Why did you run away from me? Why?” And she burst out crying.
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