Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 24 of a new online serial novel, Divided Attention, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every Thursday or Friday. Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © 2010 by Israel Bookshop Publications

Rafi usually opened his eyes as soon as he heard Yael’s voice in his room each morning. Today, however, Rafi’s eyes remained closed. Yael called his name repeatedly until the lump under the covers began to rustle.

“What? Ah…Mrs. Cohen…” A huge yawn contorted his face. “Yeah, I’m getting up…”

But when she came back five minutes later, he was still under the covers, deeply asleep.

“Rafi, are you feeling okay?” Yael asked worriedly.

Rafi sat up at once, and immediately felt dizzy. “I think so. I’m just a little…tired.”

“That happens sometimes,” Mrs. Cohen said warmly, “but after you get up and get dressed, it usually passes.”

Rafi closed his eyes again tiredly, and then opened them; Mrs. Cohen’s worried face came into focus. “That’s it; I’m getting up,” he said and threw the blanket down to the floor. “I’m not tired at all anymore. It passed.”

“I’m going out to the kitchen, okay?” said Mrs. Cohen. “Try and hurry. I want you to have time to eat something before Mr. Cohen comes back to take you to school.”

As soon as she closed the door, Rafi unclenched his fist. A large part of the crumpled tissue in his hand was red, but the blood on the cut had already congealed. Puti had said that he doubted any glass had gotten into the cut, but that next time they broke a window, they would first take out the glass that remained stuck in the frame before Rafi would climb through.

I wish there wouldn’t be a next time! I wish Ronny would forget about me, once and for all! Or that they would decide that they don’t want me in their club! Rafi thought.

He had hardly done anything; he had just climbed into the stairwell window and opened the building door from the inside for them. It was a huge wooden door that could only be opened with a key or through the intercom system.

They had begun spraying paint on the walls until there was an awful smell. Ofer had offered him his spray-paint can, but Rafi had declined. Eddie spilled tons of sand and water on the steps and asked him if he wanted to draw pictures in the sand. He didn’t. He just sat and made sure that Ronny wasn’t drawing people sticking their tongues out, like he had promised. He didn’t want Rabbi Paksher to hear about what they had done and piece together that he was connected to the incident.

Rafi leaned over the bowl that Mr. Cohen had placed near his bed before going to shul, and poured water over his hands with the cup. The cut stung, and he examined it closely. It was not a good idea to show it to Mrs. Cohen now. She would surely ask where he could have possibly gotten such a cut between going to sleep and waking up. If she would notice it at lunchtime, he could tell her that something had happened in school. Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 23 of a new online serial novel, Divided Attention, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every Thursday or Friday. Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © 2010 by Israel Bookshop Publications

The sun dipped behind the tiled roofs. A wind whipped up scraps of paper into a macabre dance.

“I haven’t davened Minchah yet,” Nava suddenly remembered. “Is there a shul in the area?”

“There is, but I don’t think that the ladies’ section is open now,” Batya Schindler said and looked up. “I haven’t davened yet either. Do you have a siddur on you?”

“Yes,” Nava said, tightening her grip on her bag.

“Maybe we should go back to the seamstress,” Batya suggested. “Actually, we can go into one of these buildings and daven in the stairwell.”

“Okay,” Nava agreed. “Let’s go into this building. No, this one!” There was a trace of panic in her abrupt movements as she dragged Batya along with her, but the latter did not notice.

“Wait a minute.” Batya stopped her. “I think that girl is calling you, isn’t she?”

“Maybe,” Nava said, her expression inscrutable. She had no choice but to turn and wave to Rina, who was just slamming the car door and holding onto Danny’s mitten-clad hand. She approached them.

“Hi, Nava! What are you doing here?” Rina smiled at Nava and her friend. “You’ve come for a visit? How nice!”

Nava smiled back and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Batya, my sister-in-law, Rina,” she said tersely.

“Oh, nice to meet you!” Batya said, looking Rina up and down from head to toe; not a single detail evaded her gaze.

“So, are you coming up? Danny! You didn’t say hello to Nava! Have you forgotten her already?”

The child giggled at Nava through the knitted hat that covered most of his face.

“That’s a good idea, actually,” Batya said with relief. “Nava came with me to the seamstress and neither of us have davened Minchah yet. It’s going to be shkiah soon.”

Rina looked at them both. “So let’s go. There’s plenty of room in my house. But I’m not sure I have anything to serve you, Nava.”

“That’s fine,” her young sister-in-law answered, her face pale. “Is Shimon home?”

“No, he gets home very late today.”

Nava felt an incredible urge to bite her nails. She had dropped the habit over six years ago, but sometimes, when she felt uncertain, confused, or uncomfortable, that inexplicable urge rose again. What should she do now? At least Shimon wasn’t there, but Abba and Ima would be very unhappy to hear that she had visited her brother’s house—and had brought a friend with her, no less!

But there didn’t seem to be much of a choice. Batya was already chatting amiably with Rina, telling her about the Russian seamstress who was sewing her dress for her sister’s wedding for a laughable price. Well, Rina was an expert at making people feel comfortable, and Batya didn’t look like she had any inhibitions about talking too much. There was no choice. They’d go up, daven, and then leave right away.

“How’s Rafi?” Rina asked as the elevator began to ascend.

“Baruch Hashem. Where do you leave Danny on Tuesdays?” She smiled, somewhat woodenly, at her nephew.

“A nice girl comes to watch him. It’s probably better that way, no?”

Nava had no idea what she was referring to. Was it better that Danny and Nava didn’t see each other now? It had been more than a month already since that babysitting arrangement had ended. Was it better not to take Danny out of the house on cold days? Was it better that a strange girl should watch him? Why? Hadn’t Rina been happy with her? Or perhaps she simply meant that they had decided to stop the arrangement so as not to confuse Rafi with familiar figures from his past and not to direct their attention to another child who suddenly appeared. Is that what Rina meant? Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 22 of a new online serial novel, Divided Attention, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every Thursday or Friday. Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © 2010 by Israel Bookshop Publications

A note landed smack in the middle of Nava’s desk. She shoved it over to the corner and continued to gaze at Morah Dinner, who was explaining the calculations of the days of the Mabul. Miss out on Morah Dinner’s riveting explanations? Not her.

“Open it already, Nava!” Batya whispered. “Devoiry’s getting upset at you!”

Nava didn’t bat an eyelash.

“Nava!”

“Not now!” Nava whispered back and turned her concentration back to the board, trying to focus on the subject at hand. Rafi had started learning Chumash Bereishis with Abba, in addition to Chumash Shemos that he was learning in class. She was supposed to study with him. The good thing was that Rafi loved learning with Abba, something she herself had never liked. What was the difference? Was it Rafi’s constant need for attention? Was it the special way Abba treated him?

Perhaps you should be a bit honest with yourself and admit that Rafi simply likes to learn. He sits and gazes at Abba with huge eyes as he listens to the lively explanations.

Sarah had visited yesterday just when they were learning and had observed them from the kitchen doorway.

“I can’t believe it! It’s just not the same child!” she kept exclaiming. “Yael, this must be an act, right?”

Nava had been offended by the question. Did she really think that they treated Rafi like a circus animal that performed on command?

“An act?” Ima had asked with her soft, calm smile. “You’re invited to come every evening to watch them. He always listens like this, and sometimes even better.”

“Yes, I know that he feels better when I’m not here,” Sarah said and retreated into the kitchen. “Are they supposed to finish in the next few minutes? I want to speak to him a bit. By the way, what’s that bruise on his face?”

Nava bit her lip. What did it matter? Didn’t normal kids fall sometimes? What was the social worker so worried about? Did she think they abused him in their home?

“That bruise? We were also wondering about it,” Ima had answered with her unflappable composure. “He said that he was running and had bumped into the wall. What do you think? Can we believe that?”

“No one called to complain that Rafi had attacked their child?”

“Not at all.”

“So you can be calm,” Sarah said wryly. “It must really be a bang from the wall. I don’t remember this child ever being hit and taking it sitting down. If you haven’t heard any complaints, then it’s likely that no one hit him. I can’t believe how much he’s changed in a month and a half! Since when did he ever obey anything?” Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 21 of a new online serial novel, Divided Attention, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every Thursday or Friday. Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © 2010 by Israel Bookshop Publications

Reb Nechemia patrolled the noisy yard, enjoying the sound of the children playing and the blowing breeze. He smiled when his eyes fell on the bearded man. “Oh, Reb Baruch. I wanted to speak to you quietly for a few minutes.”

“Quietly?” The cacophony around them hardly fit that description. Baruch Perlmutter smiled.

“Quiet, noise, it doesn’t really matter. As long as we can both speak, that’s fine.”

They moved closer to the wall of the building. Reb Baruch looked at the tree, which stood sentry beside them. “What do the police say, Rabbi Paksher?”

“The police? They say…all sorts of things. Nu, it’s not the police we trust. How’s your new student doing? Have you taken a look at his bruise?”

Perlmutter’s face grew serious. “You can’t miss it. I asked him about it, but he insisted that it was just a bump from the wall and nothing else.”

“Does that make sense to you?”

Reb Baruch mulled the question over for a minute. “I think so,” he said slowly. “It didn’t look like he was hiding anything. But that’s not all.”

“Meaning?” The principal stroked his beard.

His expression turned grim as he heard the rest of the story. “How did you react?” he asked the teacher.

“At first I was very surprised. After all, until now, he was such a quiet boy. I haven’t had any chutzpah or discipline problems with him, and except for a few normal spats with his classmates, things have been very smooth.”

“Spats? Including hitting?”

“Yes. And he sure is good at that.”

The principal folded his arms. “And what did you do this time?” Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 20 of a new online serial novel, Divided Attention, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every Thursday or Friday. Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © 2010 by Israel Bookshop Publications

Manny pulled up at the curb.

“Have a good day, Rafi!” he said and waved from the window. “Hatzlach—Hey, what’s going on over there?”

The large, wide tree had lost all its charm. It stood there black and sooty, its blackened, leafless branches stark against the winter sky. Dozens of children stood at the base of the tree, pointing and waving animatedly.

“They’ve done it again?” Manny whispered in horror. “They’ve got to catch those bandits! Rafi, go ask them what happened.”

A curly-haired boy ran over to them, shouting something at Rafi, who shrank back and put his hand on the car.

“Rafi, did you see what they did here?” the kid breathlessly asked. He peeked into the car. “Are you Rafi’s father? Hi. My name is Meir Cooperman and I sit next to him,” –he pointed at Rafi—”in class.”

“What happened over there?” Manny asked, pointing at the swarming yard.

“They burned the tree, and the wall near it almost got burned! Everything’s black! They also threw rocks into some classrooms and the windows broke! Our classroom window is also smashed! And they spray painted the back wall!”

Manny sighed. “This is terrible. I hope they’ll be caught soon. Rafi, if you see your principal tell him I was very sorry to hear.”

“Oh,” Rafi said expressionlessly, and without smiling, he waved at the man behind the wheel and walked through the gate beside Meir Cooperman.

“Come,” Meir urged, energetic as always. “Look what they did behind the building. They drew the face that was painted inside last time with the tongue sticking out!”

Rafi stood facing the virtual carbon copy of his creation, only this time it wasn’t red; it was black. With a neutral expression on his face, he touched the drawing; his fingertips immediately turned black. “It’s not spray,” he told Meir.  “It’s paint. Black paint.”

“How do you know?” Meir asked, also touching the black face.

“Paint is wet. Spray paint gets absorbed by the wall,” Rafi said, and then breathing heavily, asked, “Why did they burn that nice tree?”

“You know lots of things!” Meir said with admiration. “Maybe we should make a secret club and catch them!”

“Catch who?”

“The guys who keep doing this to us! I think that Gavriel and Yudi would want to join. How about you? I think you’d be a great detective; you’re really smart and you’ll be able to help us a lot!”

***

After a light knock, the door of the third grade classroom opened and the principal gazed at the students with his warm brown eyes.

“Hello, Rabbi Paksher,” the teacher greeted him. “Boys, we’ve finished the perek. You can close the chumashim.”

Rafi’s hands automatically closed the chumash in front of him.

“Boys,” the principal said, pulling the door closed behind him. “I just wanted to talk to you myself, to calm down anyone who is afraid. Hashem has put us in this place, and we are doing the best we can. Obviously there are some people who are angry that we are here, but I’m sure that, b’ezras Hashem, they won’t hurt any of you. They just want to bother us a little, nothing more. What do you think we can do in this situation?” Keep Reading…