Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 13 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

They were simply not compatible.

You didn’t just discover that now, the chair in the corner, with the rickety right leg, jeered at her. Since when did you think that you were? Remember your first trip to the supermarket, when he put products into the cart with hechsherim that you never even considered using in your parents’ home, not to mention the spend-thriftiness that stunned you? And the first Shabbos you spent at his parents’ house, when he was so unfazed by the fact that he’d left his hatbox at home, and went to davening on Friday night wearing just a suit—no hat? And the day he left his afternoon learning seder for good? And the day, a year later, when he left learning in the morning, as well?

Bentzy continued sleeping as his mother put him in his bed and angrily swiped at the newspaper from Tuesday that was covering the phone. Colorful squares and rectangles and pictures with green, grassy lawns tried to attract her attention, but she didn’t deign to give them a look. She didn’t want a trip to the Czech Republic; she didn’t want to go to remote places full of non-Jewish faces; she didn’t want to take Bentzy out of Eretz Yisrael for no reason, even if his grandmother and young aunts would love to have him there. The grandmother and aunts were really not part of the story at all. In fact, the whole issue of whether to take a vacation in a Czech hotel or in a bungalow up north in Israel was just a grain, one of many, that had accumulated in her throat over time, making it hard for her to breathe. The issue here wasn’t what to do during the time that school would be closed or before she found another job. The issue was Elchanan and herself.

“Compatibility is not everything,” Morah Elka Stern had told her a short time after she’d gotten engaged to Elchanan. His parents were foreign, and their families were so different in every way. “I can show you couples that are amazingly similar and don’t get along all that well. It depends on good middos. There are those who are polar opposites, and things go very smoothly for them.”

No, she and Elchanan weren’t polar opposites, and yes, they both had good middos— but things were not going smoothly at all.

*** Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 12 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

The next morning, Adina Kotzker’s head was aching badly. The trip back and forth up north the day before hadn’t done her any good, and although everything had turned out for the best, it was hard for her to muster a smile. Of course, she had smiled in spite of everything, because the coordinators and the madrichos and the students were not to blame that she was drained, but she’d hardly been able to sleep all night.

Her husband suggested that she postpone the board meeting, but she refused. These quiet days were the ideal time for such meetings. She liked the total quiet, without students or teachers in the background. True, she hadn’t planned that even Chana, her veteran secretary, wouldn’t be there, but Chana didn’t have all that much to do at the meeting anyway. Her job was basically to serve the refreshments and answer the phones in the office, which the young Mrs. Levinsky could do just as well.

By 8:50, Mrs. Kotzker was unlocking the door to the office. She nodded hello to the custodian who passed on his way to his little room at the end of the corridor. The members of the board were scheduled to arrive at 9:30, and she wanted to make sure that everything was in order before they came. Malka had prepared the reports before leaving for the Overnight, and all she had to do was pull out the two relevant binders and straighten the tablecloth.

She sat down at her desk, massaging her right temple, and wondered what that noise was on the second floor. She didn’t have too long to wonder, because two seminary girls burst into the empty office at that moment. Seeing that there was no one there, they hurried to the door of the principal’s office, which was open. Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 11 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

By four thirty, Malka had managed to completely forget about the disturbing phone conversation. At two o’clock, after lunch, the girls were supposed to board buses for one of the nearby mountains, where a scavenger-hunt-style maze activity was planned for them. But then Yael’s phone rang, and all the plans went haywire.

“A child from a local moshav stepped on an old mine on the mountain we’re supposed to be going to,” Yael said with a somber expression. “He was seriously wounded, and the whole area’s been closed to hikers.”

“Hashem yishmor! I hope he has a refuah sheleimah!” exclaimed Ruti, one of the tenth grade madrichos, but in the same breath she added, “But when we went there the day before yesterday to put down the hints and the markers, there were no old mines!”

“Tell that to the police,” Yael replied dourly. “In any case, it’s closed, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 10 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

Elchanan wrinkled his forehead. “So why do you need me?” he asked. “Did you forget where the bank is or something?” Dvir’s store was bustling with the normal pre-closing-hour rush; the last few customers were loitering at the shelves when Yaffa had burst in with her bizarre request.

“I didn’t forget.” Yaffa took a deep breath. Only then did her husband notice the brown envelope in her hand. “But I want you to come with me there. I won’t know where to go and who to speak to.”

“Well, it’s about time you learned,” Elchanan said. He retreated into the store, looking for his wallet in the drawer under the cash register. It was true that Yaffa was only twenty, but if he wasn’t mistaken, he had taken care of banks transactions for his father from the age of fourteen. Well, his father hated big banks because of the Israeli tellers and clerks who had no patience for his heavy accent. And Yaffa? Yaffa couldn’t stand the bank, or the National Insurance office, and she could barely handle the doctor’s office because… Well, why? Now that he thought about it, he realized he had no idea.

“I don’t know,” Yaffa said as they stood in the bank between the chain link dividers and plastic plants. “These huge, cold places get me nervous.” When it was Elchanan’s turn, she watched him walk up to the teller and slide the brown envelope under the glass partition. “The account number is on the envelope,” he informed the clerk. Then he looked at Yaffa, standing to his right. “You see how simple it is?” Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 9 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

A deep, heavy stillness hovered over the house. Bentzy was sleeping soundly, perhaps because he sensed that he was home alone with his father. Yaffa had gone to school, as she had the past few mornings, and Elchanan had suggested that if he was staying home this morning anyway, Bentzy could stay with him.

Elchanan had taken some Tylenol early in the morning and was now feeling so much better that he vacillated whether it hadn’t been foolish of him to miss a day of work. He went into the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea for himself. Opening the cupboard to take out the teabags, his gaze immediately fell upon the open package of Bamba standing behind the box of teabags. Now that the topic had been analyzed from all sides and resolved, the Bamba wasn’t quite so threatening anymore, and he took it out along with the tea. Yaffa wouldn’t be going to the Emmanuels’ house anymore, and that was that. All he needed was for his mother to find out what her daughter-in-law was dabbling in for a living.

Yaffa had halfheartedly agreed with him at first, and then became more convinced. She apologized for not telling him anything, but he was still so shocked about the whole thing that he almost forgot to be insulted. Yaffa also pointed out that now that she was working in the school, the job in Maaleh Adumim had really become superfluous and she could easily give it up.

For his part, Elchanan had promised that when the week of work at the school was over, he would help her find another job, something more normal than cleaning houses for twenty shekel an hour. Perhaps telemarketing or something like that; there were lots of positions available in that field. Or would telemarketing be too difficult for Yaffa? Speaking over and over again to strange people, half of whom were liable to get angry and scream at her before slamming down the phone? Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 8 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

“That woman is going to send me out of my mind!” Malka grumbled angrily. The teachers’ room was empty, aside for her and the shelves of account books. “She approved forty sheets of labels for them from Efroni’s store. Each sheet cost six shekel. So she just threw two hundred forty shekel in the garbage!”

She recoiled somewhat when someone entered the room. While her irate murmurings were quiet enough that she could be sure the person hadn’t heard anything, she still felt uneasy.

“Oh, hi, Yaffa,” she said amiably. “How’s the work going?”

“Fine,” Chaya Schuck’s sister replied. “No problem.” She paused for a minute, as though waiting for the green light to enter the room, but when none was forthcoming, she continued her way into the teachers’ room anyway.

Malka observed her from behind. Yaffa looked so similar to Chaya in coloring and features—but the two sisters couldn’t be more different in temperament.

“Are you looking for something there?” Malka called when she saw Yaffa opening and closing the kitchenette cabinets one after another.

“No….not really…I mean…yes. I’m looking for cups, for coffee.”

“In the right cabinet, at the top,” Malka said, and went back to her papers. She concentrated for a few minutes until she heard a slight clearing of the throat to her right. “Yes, Yaffa?” she asked in the same cordial tone that she used when speaking to ninth graders.

Yaffa placed a steaming cup beside her.

“For me?” Malka was surprised. “Thank you. How did you know how much coffee and how much Sweet & Low I like?” Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 7 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

The next morning, Yaffa went to the high school. Elchanan was happy to hear about the temporary job her sister had found for her, and left for Dvir’s store, as he had been doing each of the past few days. Bentzy went to the babysitter upstairs, clean, calm, and with his hair freshly combed.

Even after she left the house, waited at the bus stop, and boarded the bus, Yaffa didn’t allow herself to think too much into what lay ahead.. As it was, with every step she took toward the school, she felt an urge to turn around and go home, to Bentzy, to her familiar housework.

What was she thinking, accepting a job in a school office that was totally unfamiliar to her? Not that she was any more inclined to work in her alma mater’s office; she was hardly interested in meeting her old teachers and the sisters of her friends and neighbors who would begin asking questions. But there, at least, she wouldn’t have a problem with the actual walls. They wouldn’t be foreign to her. Nor would eyebrows be raised. Now, however she looked at it, she was going into a strange, unfamiliar building, and she didn’t even know where the office was! She would have to find it on her own and introduce herself to the principal, reminding her that she was Mrs. Schuck’s sister who was reporting to work today for the first time.

Ugh. Too bad it was the end of the month, and Chaya was too busy at work to be able to accompany her for even half an hour. Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 6 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

The person who opened the door was taller than her and her light hair was gathered into a high bun on the top of her head. Once she invited Yaffa inside, Yaffa was able to take a closer look at her employer, only to discover that she was really just a big girl.

“Welcome,” the girl said briskly. “You’re the cleaning lady, right? You can put your bag here, in the bathroom, and get yourself ready. When you come out, I’ll tell you exactly what I want today.”

Yaffa found herself in the middle of a marble bathroom. She wasn’t sure she understood exactly what was going on in the place, but she decided to do first what the girl had told her to do: to get ready. The wall tiles were a pinky brown, and there wasn’t a single fingerprint to be found anywhere. A pleasant scent hung in the little room, and two folded pink towels were stacked on the edge of the bathtub.

Yaffa took a deep breath. Everything was so clean-clean-clean, much cleaner than she ever dared dream she could achieve. She stuck her clothes into her bag, creased into a messy pile, and looked around for a spot to put her sheitel. Hesitantly, she hung it on a gleaming nickel hook that protruded from one of the walls. Then she opened the door and stepped out.

The girl was waiting for her, leaning against the wall. “Very good,” she said. “We have an hour and a half until my brothers come home, and I want you to start in the kitchen.” She straightened up and walked rapidly toward the kitchen, with Yaffa close on her heels.

Yaffa felt a strange sensation, as though she’d been plopped into the pages of a fantasy book, and if she wouldn’t follow the girl, she would never be able to get back to the real world. They passed a large dining room, and Yaffa was able to catch a glimpse of two low, leather armchairs next to a small, glass, square table, and a large window whose shutter was totally drawn, blocking out even the slightest crack of light.

The kitchen was a different story. The two sinks were piled high with dirty dishes. On the right side of the counter was a pile of crumpled papers that had overflowed onto the gas range. The large floor tiles featured a huge red stain, and the same red substance was splattered on the bottom cabinets of the kitchen, too.

“Those are my brothers for you,” the girl said. “They threw a bottle of ketchup on the floor, and no one volunteered to clean up the mess. If you have any questions, I’m in my room.” Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 5 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

“One minute, girls, quiet!” Malka sighed, trying to forge a path between the hordes of girls that were crowding near the office.

“Next week it will be quiet here,” one curly-haired girl remarked. Such a comment could only be made to Morah Mann in the pre-Overnight atmosphere that prevailed. Malka smiled forgivingly and walked into the principal’s office.

“Didn’t we have that end-of-the-year teacher’s meeting last week?” she asked, dropping into a chair. “So why doesn’t it seem like the year is over?”

“You’re tired, Malky,” her mother said as she raised her eyes from the sheaf of papers she was working on. “Go take a drink. And check if the teachers’ room is available. That woman from the accountant’s office is supposed to be meeting you in about half an hour, right?”

“I hope so,” Malka began to say, when the door opened slightly behind her back.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kotzker,” Yael greeted the principal, sounding energetic and friendly as though she had slept many more hours the night before than the mere four she’d actually gotten.

“Good morning, Yael.” Adina Kotzker’s voice suddenly became crisp and alert. “Your program sounds excellent, but there are a few points I’d like to go over with you. Sit down; why are you still standing?” Keep Reading…

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 4 of a new online serial novel, Dance of the Puppet, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters. 

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

Today there was actually no traffic on the way, and the bus came on time. Elchanan walked down the street, skirting two stones that lay on the edge of the sidewalk, and wondered apprehensively what was waiting for him at home. Yaffa had been miserable when he’d left in the morning, and all the way to the store he wondered what more he could do that he hadn’t already done. But when he arrived at the store and the pressures at work began, all matters relating to home flew out of his mind. Only when he left, after parting from Dvir with a, “Take care, see you later” did Yaffa’s face rise in his mind’s eye again.

He sighed. He really felt for her, a young, slightly naïve girl, who had woven a nice dream for herself that was suddenly beginning to crack before her eyes. But what could he do? He was ready to try and fulfill her other dreams, to do a lot to make her happy, but without the gasoline called money—nothing was possible, even if Yaffa thought it was. He was not built for the belt-tightening and frugality they had been forced to live with these past few months, to reckon every container of cheese or each chocolate bar that he wanted to buy. It was just not for him. When he’d told his mother on the phone how much he was sweating, she simply did not understand.

“Sweating? Don’t you have air conditioning in the apartment?”

Go explain to her that the last electric bill had been so huge that if he’d receive another one of similar proportions, he’d have to take a loan from a friend to cover it.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to learn half a day in a kollel that paid so little, but that kollel was where he had enjoyed the learning. Should he have looked for a kollel based on how much they paid? Something about that idea sounded uglier than going to work for Dvir; he didn’t know why, but that was the way it was. Perhaps Yaffa would have preferred that he do that, but that wasn’t what he was interested in doing. Torah is Torah, work is work—and he didn’t want to mix up the two.

As he walked up to his apartment, his compassion and apprehension were suddenly replaced with resentment. He had no strength to come home and find a tearful wife, a messy house, and a screaming baby. He didn’t deserve it. He had worked hard today, and a lot of it was for them, not only for himself. Yaffa couldn’t expect him to do things that he was not capable of doing, just like he did not expect her to do things that she was unable to do.

The door was locked, as always. He knocked, and she opened it, with her regular smile and “hello.” He entered, murmuring his own greeting, and turned to the small dining room to put down his jacket and hat.

She followed him. “How was it?” she inquired. Keep Reading…