Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 32 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 are you, Shimmy?” Gedalya asked as he paced up and down his office, from wall to wall. “What are you doing there all this time?”
“I’m letting a bat-robot analyze my behavior,” Shimmy said, and then added theatrically, “Which is why I’m trying to behave nicely, of course.”
Gedalya chuckled. “Very important. Where are you now?”
“In Yang Yang’s complex. I’m just waiting for the mess with my passport to get sorted out, and to see when a flight will depart to Israel. I’m not the only Israeli who is stuck here; I’ve met a few others in shul. They tell me it’s going to happen in the next few days, b’ezras Hashem.”
“That’s great! And what’s with our Tanchum?”
“It came out really good. Now the factory is waiting for the final payment, and then they’ll send out the shipment.”
“Well, they’ll have to wait,” Gedalya said grimly. “I’m pretty sure you’ll get to Israel before the Tanchums do.”
“I guess so.”
“And tell those Chinese guys to be a little patient, until I’m able to put together the money. I hope it will work out within two weeks.”
“They actually understand the situation and are being surprisingly patient. They are waiting for the buyers of other merchandise in their warehouses, too, to have enough cash to settle the bills. They have to wait patiently, because if they stop working with us now, they may as well close down their factory and go home.”
He walked around his little hut. On the outside, it looked like a boring, gray cement structure; only once you got inside could you could see how well-equipped and comfortable it was. But when all is said and done, it was like a golden cage, and Shimmy would be very happy to finally leave it and fly home. Before that, though, he had to close up all the loose ends, because it was safe to assume that after he’d land back home, Batya wouldn’t let him board a plane again so fast.
“So, what’s happening there with the banks?”
“People are somehow managing to live,” Gedalya said. “We’ve gone back eighty years in time, running our lives with cash, or with other ways. All the banks that were not affected are being very careful; withdrawals are down to a minimum—even though the customers, of course, tried to get them up to a maximum. The banks have hired thousands of people to sit and manually record the status of each and every account. As soon as you have one of these signed cards, on the one hand, you’re supposedly protected from problems, but on the other hand, changing this status is a complex procedure that just makes you lose any interest in depositing or withdrawing money.”
“It sounds insane.”
“There was also a huge break-in at one of the big safes in CentraBank—did you hear about that? The thieves emptied a quarter of the safe. Gold bars, bills, huge sums of money. Two of them were caught, but the others got away with lots of the loot.”
“Oh my. Were they connected to the hackers at all?”
“Doesn’t sound like it. The hackers supposedly did what they did because of their foolish ideology. These are just money-hungry thieves.”
“So some of the robbers were caught. But what about the hackers who created this whole mess to begin with? Is there no progress on that investigation?”
“I think something is doing with that,” Gedalya said. “Though it could be just rumors, too. There’s some guy in America called ‘Moni’—you ever heard of him?”
“I heard something about him, yes. Maybe you were the one who mentioned him to me? Didn’t you say he seems to have attracted masses of listeners?”
“Yes, it’s a very interesting story. He’s someone who, until now, made a really moral and ethical impression. He gives lectures that hundreds of thousands of people listen to—and he influences masses of people in America in a very unusual way. They say that his hotline brings in millions of dollars.”
“And how are these millions connected to the bank issues?”
“They’re not particularly connected; they are just his profits on the side. What is connected is that there was a time when he spoke a lot against pursuing materialism, and it looks like he may have activated the hackers to cause all this chaos.”
“You call him a moral person?”
Gedalya laughed. “So either he’s less moral than people think; you know, without Torah, morals can be very distorted. Or the hackers did it under his inspiration, without any connection to him. In any case, the authorities in America really want to find him.”
“Nu, and he ran away to the Caribbean, or what?” Shimmy tried to tune out Christopher, which was flying above him, not losing eye contact at any time.
“No one knows. The whole thing with this Moni is his anonymity, and the ones who handle him do everything they can to maintain that. It’s part of the halo of secrecy and prestige that he’s developed around himself. So the authorities are working to figure out who this guy is to begin with.”
“But with the resources at their disposal, it shouldn’t be too complicated.”
“Apparently it is a bit complicated, because the agent who deals with the distribution, sales, and publication of the lectures, has left to a country that doesn’t have an extradition agreement with America. They say he left a letter claiming adamantly that Moni has nothing to do with what happened, and that he advises them to leave him alone.”
Shimmy walked back into his hut and looked for the bag of vegetables he’d bought at the market that morning. “He advises, huh? As if they’re going to take his advice… Tell me, at least when they catch this Moni, is it going to solve the problems?”
“Who knows? Maybe he’s someone who will continue to fight even from jail for his foolish principles…? Or maybe he will do everyone a favor and order his hackers to fix the chaos they’ve created.”
“I think you told me that there are lot of frum Jews who like to listen to him.”
“Yes, there’s a rumor that he’s actually a chareidi Jew, because he quotes lots of pesukim and things from our sources, and from Jewish machshavah sefarim. Of course, whoever is not familiar doesn’t realize where they are from, because he doesn’t cite his sources. But whoever knows, knows.”
“And a frum Jew would do such a thing?! What a horrible chillul Hashem!”
“Again, don’t forget, there’s a version that says the hackers were just inspired by him, not that he ordered them to do this at all.”
There was a call-waiting beep. Batya, from Israel. He wondered how Shmuli was doing tonight. His baby son had grown amazingly fast, and his giggling on the phone made Shimmy miss him even more.
But Batya’s voice was more than pitiful, and even though she wasn’t talking anymore about how embarrassed she was about the situation with Shimmy in China, and what the neighbors were going to say about the whole thing, Shimmy’s heart went out to her.
“Where are you going to be for Shabbos?” he asked her. It was already Wednesday.
“Probably with your family,” she surprised him by saying.
“At my parents’?”
“Yes, your father’s in the hospital again, did you know? With a serious infection in his knee.”
“Oy vey, I didn’t know.”
“And your mother is in Turkey.”
“Yes, I remember. She’s not going to be home before Shabbos?”
“No. So Tzippy will probably stay with your father in the hospital, and I’ll come to be with Chumi.”
“If I would be home, it would make sense for me to be with him,” Shimmy said. “Then Tzippy wouldn’t have to go.”
“First get back here, and then we’ll see where it makes sense for you to be for Shabbos,” Batya said, and Shimmy could hear the crooked smile in her voice.
***
The sun blinds me, and I force myself to pull away from the wall I’m leaning on and continue walking toward the house. “Who cares what that lady said? She’s not really from Child Protective Services, right? And how are Moni’s lectures connected to this story, again?”
“You’re asking so many questions, Ima—I’m getting confused,” Yudi says. “What did you ask first?”
“What does Ruchi care what the black lady who stole her jewelry said? Her opinion about Isamar shouldn’t really mean anything to you, right?”
“But Ruchi says that even if the lady is just a cruel thief, maybe she’s still right that this is impossible.”
“What does ‘this’ mean?”
“It means…” He is quiet, and his voice grows a bit fainter. Maybe he is also moving away from a place where he’s afraid someone might hear him. “The lady said that taking care of a baby after surgery is something that Ruchi won’t be able to do, and Ruchi is crying and saying that it’s true. And that she doesn’t know what to do with a baby who has problems with his legs.”
“Her parents will help at the time of the surgery, won’t they?” I ask. “I hope her mother’s back problems will have gotten a lot better by then.”
“She really works very hard, my shvigger,” Yudi says, still in that quiet voice. “Even though the stairs are so hard for her, she keeps going up and down for Ruchi and Isamar.”
“She’s a very devoted mother.” With all the resentment I’ve built up, and which I’m sure will keep building up, I am also able to appreciate my mechuteiniste. A lot. “But how is the story of the stolen jewelry connected to Moni?”
“Ruchi is looking for things to give her chizuk, that tell her that she can do it, and that she’ll be able to take care of our baby, like every other mother takes care of her children,” he says. It sounds like he’s quoting somebody, and suddenly, I feel terribly sorry for all those “somebodies” over there.
“Yudi, you are her husband,” I get a hold of myself and say softly. “Your job is to give her strength. Without any Moni or any lectures. Tell Ruchi that she can and she will be a wonderful mother, and together you’ll b’ezras Hashem raise Isamar beautifully. Didn’t you two have some very calm and lovely moments at home this past week?”
“Yes. Except when the neighbors’ baby was shrieking.”
“That can frustrate anyone. Tell Ruchi that everything will be fine, b’ezras Hashem.”
“If she’ll listen to me,” he says, sounding on the verge of despair. “I don’t know how to speak nicely like the recordings.”
“But you will speak with all your heart, and that’s much more important than nice words.”
“Moni doesn’t only say nice words,” he says, and he suddenly sounds very passionate. “Yes, he says nice words too, but mainly, he talks with all his heart. That’s what attracts people, I think. And his songs… I have a hoarse, ugly voice. I can’t sing to Ruchi all the pesukim of emunah and bitachon that he sometimes sings, in English.” My son takes a deep breath, and I suspect he’s about to burst out crying. “And also, I don’t have a guitar.”
***
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