Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 37 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.
“I don’t know how this is all going to end up, Shimmy.” Despite the ominous context, Gedaliah actually sounded pretty normal. He was driving while speaking on the phone with Shimmy. “The government has declared semi-martial law in order to try to take control of the economic chaos. They are giving out vouchers and subsidizing basic essentials and medications, just so people can live. But the business sector is on the verge of collapse, the stock market is almost paralyzed, stocks are sliding at a dizzying speed…”
“I don’t know how things will end up on my end, either.” Shimmy’s voice was laced with melancholy. “My father is in the hospital with a serious infection—though they’re saying it’s not dangerous, baruch Hashem—but the people here are trying to convince me to stay.”
“Don’t do it.”
“That’s what I thought at first. I mean, Shabbos here was really awful…”
“You were in the room that they gave you?”
“Only for part of the time.” Shimmy sounded very irritated. “I walked seven kilometers for davening and the seudos. I demanded that the bat should not accompany me, but I’m not sure I really wasn’t under surveillance. On the other hand, they’re paying me very well.”
“In dollars? Hard cash?”
“Yes, cash. I think that’s a commodity worth a lot these days, isn’t it?”
“Apparently. Though from everything that has happened, I’ve learned that it’s impossible to really rely on any money. Oops.” He slammed on the brakes. “What is this, a demonstration? About the new laws?” He muttered something to himself.
“Who are the demonstrators? Blacks?”
“All colors. Oh my goodness, there are real crazies here, but it looks like it’s not only them. Let me see a minute what they want…” Gedaliah glanced out of the window of his car and narrowed his eyes. “Strange. They are demanding the release of Moni.”
“Mon—oh, the guy who caused this whole mess? Hey, he was caught?” Shimmy was utterly disgusted by the four walls of his gray room, and the presence of the bat was getting very tiresome. Instead of feeling the gratitude that he’d sensed after the bat had found him on the rocky mountainside, the whole matter was just getting more and more burdensome for him.
How had the bat actually found him? Electronic scent sensors? From how far could this bat discern smells?
“They didn’t actually catch him, but they know where he’s hiding out. His admirers are demanding that they let him go without harming him.”
“Is there a chance that’ll happen?”
“It’s hard to believe, but maybe they’ll promise him some kind of leniency on condition that he fix the damage that he’s done.” Gedaliah sounded very subdued. “But truthfully? There’s a lot of talk that much of this damage is irreparable, and that there’s no way he can give back what people have lost during this crazy time. I had three deals that fell through as a result, and I had a lot riding on them.”
“It’s really depressing.”
“Some people say we need to just switch to bitcoin once and for all—you know, the digital currency. Bitcoin has protective mechanisms that no other form of payment has. The issue is that you need dollars to buy it, so you see the problem?”
“I thought the main problem is that the bitcoin doesn’t really exist! It’s like a bubble, because it’s backed by the gold that’s in the banks.”
“And all the accounts that were reset to zero were not a bubble of sorts? The banks deal with much bigger amounts than the value of the gold bullion in their vaults. You know what happened in the Great Depression in America, right? Too many people panicked and came to withdraw their money—and the banks collapsed. It’s true that some of the capital was invested, but some of what was ostensibly in the accounts, like today, was not actually there.”
“I’m really bad at economics.” Shimmy sighed. “So, what did you want to say, bottom line?”
“That you should reconsider your decision to stay in China for now.”
“I didn’t decide anything. I was just deliberating whether—”
“Your father is in the hospital with a serious infection? Go to him, Shimmy. It’s more important than anything else, even hard cash in dollars. Believe me, that is also a bubble of sorts, it’s just that no one has discovered it yet.”
“Oh, now you’ve become my mashgiach…” Shimmy raised his eyes to the bat that was slowly circulating near the bulb in the ceiling. “There’s one sitting here right over my head, and I don’t need another one, I promise you.”
“Whatever you say.”
*
“Who is going to make Havdalah for your father?” Batya asked after they had heard Havdalah in the tearoom of the ward, and she and Tzippy were sitting down to eat something for melaveh malkah. They had taken cake and coffee from the bikur cholim room, but Tzippy could hardly eat a thing.
“I hope he’ll wake up and feel good enough to make Havdalah himself.”
“Who is Mr. Lev’s daughter?” A nurse was standing at the doorway to the tearoom, scanning the faces there. “Is the daughter of Yaakov Lev here?”
Tzippy paled and stood up, with Batya close behind her.
“Everything is fine—don’t worry,” the nurse said when she saw Tzippy’s face. “But Dr. Fitzburg wants your father to go into surgery tomorrow, so he needs to be fasting from now already, okay? We’ll talk to him as well, and have him sign all the forms, of course, and soon he’ll be taken for the necessary tests. But it’s important for you to also make sure that he doesn’t eat or drink.”
“Who is going to be operating?” Tzippy asked.
“We don’t know yet. Probably Dr. Fitzburg himself, but it’s still not for sure.”
“Excuse me for asking, but isn’t it dangerous to do surgery on someone with such high fever that won’t go down?” Bayta asked. Shimmy wasn’t around, so she felt a sense of responsibility. They knew that in theory they could trust this department, which had an excellent reputation. And yet, she also knew that if Shimmy would be here, he wouldn’t just be nodding, he’d be thinking of the right questions to ask.
“It’s more dangerous to leave him with an infection that is not responding to treatment,” the nurse replied. “Who are you? Another one of Yaakov’s daughters?”
“A daughter-in-law.”
“Okay, and you’re a daughter, right?” she asked, turning to Tzippy. “And your mother is still out of the country? Isn’t there someone older who can be here?”
“No,” Tzippy said tersely. “Um…can my father have a few more minutes before he starts fasting? Because he needs to make Havdalah and eat something before fasting.”
“Fine, but make it quick. And write down what time he finished eating—the sooner it is, the earlier he’ll be able to go into surgery. As much as it depends on us, of course. There can always be unexpected emergencies.”
“I’ll go down to the bikur cholim room for some grape juice,” Batya offered.
“If there’s something low in sugar, that’s probably better,” Tzippy said. “I don’t think he can drink something too sweet right now.”
“Fine. And Mezonos?”
“He’ll probably prefer to wash for melaveh malkah.”
“So I’ll get a roll for him. Anything else?”
“I don’t think he’ll eat much more than that. Thanks, Batya.”
Her sister-in-law lingered. “By the way, who is Dr. Fitzburg?”
“He’s a senior doctor in this department,” Tzippy replied as she stepped into the corridor. “If he does the surgery, that would be amazing, but if not… I actually went to the health clinic on Friday morning, to ask the orthopedist which surgeon he recommends we use. The secretary sent my question in to him.”
“Nu?”
“There was a crazy line outside. I waited and waited, and finally the secretary went in to ask him, and he said only that the department is a very good one, but you need to check into each doctor there, because he doesn’t know all of them. Doesn’t that make you nervous?”
“It does. You’re afraid they’re going to let an intern do the surgery on your father?”
“I don’t think they’ll do that, but…maybe there are various parts to the surgery, and they’ll let interns do some of them? Even that sounds scary to me.”
“I’ll go bring your father some food, and then I’ll talk to my parents.” They got to the elevators, and Batya pressed the button. “They are supposed to come get me in abut twenty minutes. I’ll ask my father to find out if there’s anything we can do.”
“Thanks, that’s a good idea. But if you have to leave in twenty minutes, you need to pack up your stuff, don’t you?”
“And what about you? Do you want my father to drop you off at home? I’m sure he’ll be happy to do that.”
“For now, I’m staying here. I want to see my father eat and make sure that he’s okay. There are buses later, if I need a ride home. Honestly, though, I’m not sure I want to go home tonight. If my father is fasting and tomorrow morning they’re taking him in for surgery, I prefer to stay here, next to him.” She didn’t look directly at Batya.
She’d heard from her own mother, more than once, that the mechutanim were far from pleased with Shimmy’s travels, which made sense. It was enough that Batya would ask her father to do some research about the doctors. It was enough that they had watched Shmuli all Shabbos so Batya could be with her in the hospital. It was enough that they knew that Mommy was unable to return to Israel yet, and now they’d also find out about the surgery that would be done in the absence of the patient’s own wife and only son. All of this was more than enough.
Tzippy really didn’t want to meet Batya’s mother right now, knowing what was probably going through her mind.
“And Chumi?” Batya asked.
“I told her to stay over at her friend tonight anyway, because I had no idea what time I was going to get home.”
“Good. So, will you update your mother and Shimmy about the surgery and everything?”
“The hospital is supposed to update my mother directly. If they can reach her.” She scratched her left palm. “In any case, I’ll call her as soon as I can.”
*
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