Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 8 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.
This time as well, Shimmy had to go to the fish market, but at least Shio Ching’s stall was already closed, and the man was standing and waiting for the taxi as he spoke animatedly into his phone.
“Hello,” he said as he slid into the car. “So, you came back to us, huh? I understand that your Tankum came out something special.”
“Tanchum,” Shimmy muttered. “That’s exactly what I want to check. Should we go to the factory now?”
“I’m just on the phone here with Sun Jang, and he says that you have nothing to come for before the first payment is transferred.”
“What does that mean? Gedalya already sent him eight thousand dollars!”
“That’s what you say, but Jang claims that he didn’t get anything. Should we go to the hotel?”
“Not to the hotel, to the factory,” Shimmy snapped stubbornly. “And tell him he shouldn’t lie. If Gedalya said he sent the money, then he sent it.”
“And if Jang says he didn’t get it, then he didn’t get it.”
“Who would you choose to do business with, Shio?” Shimmy asked dryly. “With Gedalya, or with Sun Jang?”
The Chinese man was significantly silent, before saying something to the driver, who nodded. “I told him to go to the hotel, but not the one where you stayed last time. Something better, without bats.”
“Don’t make decisions on your own, okay?” Shimmy was irritated. “I’ll call Gedalya and tell him to send me the transfer confirmation this minute.”
“Shimmy?” Gedalya sounded strange. “I was just about to call you. Tell me, have you heard about Citibank?”
“Sure. I have an account there, besides my Israeli account.”
“So what did you hear?”
“What do you mean? I know that it’s an excellent bank that gives good credit terms.”
“So you haven’t heard. My accounts—both business and personal—are also there.” It sounded like he was walking someplace quickly, or even running. “The bank has gone totally blank, Shimmy, totally.”
“Blank? What does that mean?”
“It means that all the accounts there got emptied and are showing a balance of zero. All the accounts!”
“What?”
“Yes. There are cash bills in the bank, of course, and no one touched the vaults or the safe deposit boxes. But according to the computers—the accounts are empty, in all the branches.”
Shimmy gaped at a huge illuminated sign with flashing red letters. “That sounds insane! Just now, Shio Ching told me that the toy factory owner is very angry that you didn’t send him the amount we promised.”
“Of course. Because a few minutes after I added him as a recipient in my business account, to make a transfer to him—this is what happened, and the transfer didn’t go through. You have no idea what is going on here in America, Shimmy. This story is barely fifty minutes old, and already, thousands of people are streaming to Citibank branches, trying—without luck—to withdraw their money. And people are dashing to all the other banks, too.”
“So what do I do now? I should go to the factory and tell Mr. Chinaman that due to the situation, he’ll have to wait patiently for his money?”
“Who said there will be money?” Gedalya suddenly sounded totally different. “If the bank doesn’t manage to fix this problem, I don’t have a cent to invest in this deal anymore, Shimmy. My personal account is also there.”
Shimmy swallowed. “My parents’ account is also there. But the bank can’t rob us like that, Gedalya. People will bring documents, proof, and they’ll somehow restore the real amounts. The fact that we’re all at zero on the computers is not compatible with reality.”
“Maybe,” Gedalya said. “But it’s going to be very hard to do it. And for now, how did you put it? We’re all at zero.” He laughed suddenly. “Even your father is now on the same level as all the millionaires who kept their millions in the bank, Shimmy. Think about it!”
Shimmy wasn’t thinking. He just gazed out the window and then said to the Chinese interpreter, “We’ll try to get settled in the hotel for now, Shio. Looks like Citibank has experienced a crash of sorts and—”
“You also heard about it? My friend just told me about the story this minute.” Shio raised his eyes from his phone. “Crazy job, by crazy people. They decided to teach the luxury-loving Americans a lesson.”
“What?”
“Didn’t Gedalya tell you that part? They left a message on all the banks’ computers that they are doing this to teach people that money is not the main thing in life.” He laughed.
Sure, he could laugh. He didn’t have a dollar in Citibank. Actually, no one did right now.
“Anyway, Shimmy, how will you pay for the hotel now?”
“With my credit card,” Shimmy said—and then fell silent. Hundreds of thousands of credit cards, his among them, were now useless.
“And a slightly less polite question: How will you pay me?”
“I brought some American dollars with me.”
“I don’t know how much the dollar is worth today, with your America so unstable like this, but fine. So what should we do now, go to a cheaper hotel? There’s one not far from here.”
“The place you wanted to take me to won’t take cash?”
“They want three days’ payment up front.”
“Let me think a minute,” Shimmy said. The taxi waited on the side of the road for the decision. That was also costing money.
“You can come to my house if you want,” Shio offered. “I live with my father, and it’s close by.”
“To you?”
“I’ll give you a better price than anywhere else.” Shio was generous. “And you’ll get excellent service. A clean room, a new bed, and everything nicer than the hotel. Without food, right?”
Shimmy sighed. “Let me speak to Gedalya. But before that, we’ll tell the taxi driver that we don’t need him anymore.”
“Then how will we travel?”
“We’ll walk. You said that the cheap hotel isn’t far and that you also live nearby.”
“Nearby in Chinese terms, not in Israeli’s terms!” Shio burst out laughing, triggering a flash of anger in Shimmy, and a desire to reach out and slap him. “It’ll take more than an hour to walk!”
“Okay, then, don’t send the taxi away just yet.”
Shimmy called Gedalya, who didn’t answer. Who could he consult with now? Batya would tell him it was better to go to someone he knew than to a shabby hotel. She wouldn’t understand that he preferred a place that was a bit less pleasant than to be in the constant company of his interpreter.
Should he ask Tatty for advice? If his head wasn’t hurting just then, he would listen quietly, then he would be quiet for a few more moments, and then he’d ask a ton of questions, calmly and thoughtfully, to get to the right decision.
“Let’s go to the hotel so I can see it, and then I’ll decide.”
“Fine,” Shio said, not seeming at all offended. He said something to the driver, who starting moving once again. Shimmy cracked his knuckles, one after another, hoping that the Chinese didn’t interpret this habit of his as a lack of manners.
The sky was growing darker, and when Shimmy peeked out of the window, he saw something black-gray flying between the trees that ran along the road next to them.
Shimmy narrowed his eyes. That was all he needed now!
But the creature disappeared into the branches, and Shimmy wasn’t able to see whether or not it was his notorious bat. In any case, he had bigger problems on his hands right now.
***
“Ima?”
“Hi, Yudi, how are you?” I tense, not knowing how this latest storm is affecting them.
“Fine, baruch Hashem. I’m at work now.”
“The new job? In the electronics store?” I have no idea what he knows about the mess at Citibank. Sometimes Yudi surprises me at how involved and knowledgeable he is with matters of finance and politics, and sometimes—nothing. I don’t want to be the one to get him nervous, especially in light of the fact that I’m not at all involved in his and Ruchi’s bank account. Maybe we should be more involved? Not that I’m afraid that someone in Ruchi’s family will take advantage of him, chalilah, but there are areas where it’s not good to be too oblivious…
Or maybe he involved my husband in this?
“Yes.” He sounds out of breath. “I’m organizing the cameras in the warehouse right now, the old models. Horowitz told me that he’ll give me a camera for seventy percent off. At first I got excited, but then I decided that I’m not sure I want it.”
“You have a camera already, don’t you?”
“Ruchi does, but she doesn’t want to take pictures with it.”
“Why not?”
“Because we didn’t read the user manual yet, and she’s not sure she understands how to use it properly. She’s afraid that if you don’t know everything before you use it, you can ruin it.”
“She has a point,” I say carefully.
“Yes,” he agrees, sounding rather indifferent. “But I told you, I don’t really think we need a camera. It’s just an unnecessary, materialistic thing. It’s Olam Hazeh’dik.”
I like hearing Yudi express his opinion in a clear way, and it’s been happening more and more lately, which makes me happy.
“That’s true,” I say. This isn’t the first time in the past two weeks that I’ve heard such lofty statements from him. Maybe he’s saying these things because of the financial mess? I’m not sure, but I think it started even before that. He’ll suddenly tell me something about “my tafkid in This World.” Or “the path and the obstacles of each and every person.” And he sounds like he really believes what he is saying, like he’s not just quoting something. Still, I know my son, and it’s clear to me that these ideas did not germinate from his own thought process.
Or from Ruchi’s. Excuse me for saying so.
“Where do you get these nice ideas that I’ve been hearing from you lately, Yudi?” I ask.
“I listen to shiurim,” he says. “I have a subscription, and I listen to all kinds of shiurim.”
“Torah shiurim? Like on Daf Yomi?”
“I go to Daf Yomi in the evening, after Ma’ariv. My subscription is for shiurim about machshavah and emunah.”
“Very nice. Who suggested them to you?” Ruchi’s father?
“A friend from my other job. Oh, did you hear what’s going on with Citibank?”
“Yes, sure. People here are also very worried about it, and the dollar is fluctuating dramatically. You know, America has an effect on the whole world.”
“Yes, but Horowitz, my boss, said that the experts at the bank are working very hard, and hopefully they’ll be able to sort things out, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Where is your account, Yudi?” I ask carefully.
He laughs. “Not there. I use Bank of America. Like Ruchi’s parents. But Horowitz’s store’s account is in Citibank. He talks a lot about what’s going on there, and he’s very, very worried.”
And also trying hard to reassure his employees that everything will work out.
***
Today I want to speak about the middah of ka’as, anger. When was the last time you got angry? Yes, yes, you, the one listening to me now. Did you get angry this morning? The day before yesterday? Last year?
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