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Faith For Beginners - Hardcover

Hamburger, Aaron

 
9781400062980: Faith For Beginners
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 1400062985 ISBN 13: 9781400062980
Verlag: Random House Inc, 2005

Inhaltsangabe

After her college-age son, Jeremy, nearly dies from an overdose of alcohol and pills, Helen Michaelson decides to take him and her terminally ill husband on a mission to Israel in the hopes that Jeremy will reconnect with his faith, but the family vacation soon takes some unexpected turns. 20,000 first printing.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Aaron Hamburger is the author of the short-story collection The View from Stalin’s Head, for which he was awarded the Rome Prize by The American Academy of Arts and Letters. He was awarded a fellowship from the Edward F. Albee Foundation and won first prize in the David Dornstein Memorial Creative Writing Contest for Young Adult Writers. His writing has appeared in The Village Voice, Out, Nerve, and Time Out New York. He teaches writing at Columbia University and lives in New York City.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter One

A LIST OF PLANTS THAT GROW OUT OF THE WAILING WALL

1.HENBANE, or “SHIKARON” (“intoxication” in Hebrew). When ingested, induces a state of deep, colorful hallucination and finally a very pleasant death. Most common plant in the Wall.

2.PODOSNOMA. Roots can crack rocks to draw out water.

3.SICILIAN SNAPDRAGON. Prefers high altitudes.

4.HORSETAIL KNOTGRASS. Antidote for snakebite and the evil eye.

5.THORNY CAPER. Makes an excellent marinade for roast chicken.

6.PHAGNALON. Small and shy.

It was an intolerably hot morning near the end of June. A mother, father, and son named Michaelson floated on a cruise ship off the coast of Haifa, along with the other 251 members of the Millennium Marathon 2000. As they approached the harbor, their ship was briefly turned back by a black military helicopter, chartered to reenact the drama of Holocaust refugees sneaking into Palestine during the British Mandate. The Michiganders offered a light round of confused applause, and as if by command, the helicopter instantly swirled away.

Sweaty, bleary-eyed, and a bit deaf from the chopping of the helicopter, the Michaelsons collected their luggage and duty-free bags and streamed down the gangplanks with the other Michiganders. Aliza, the rabbinic intern, tried unsuccessfully to lead their group in a chorus of “Jerusalem of Gold.” Her lavender song sheets fluttered down the side of the boat into the murky green water of the harbor.

On dry land, they received commemorative T-shirts with a handprint-shaped outline of their state and the message “THE Millennium Marathon 2000! What’s good for the goose is even better for the Michigander!”

“Isn’t that a riot?” said Mrs. Michaelson, fifty-eight years old and often called handsome. She held a shirt up to the chest of her bored-looking son, who clearly did not think it was a riot. Her husband, busy emptying his nose into a hankie, had no opinion. And to tell the truth, Mrs. Michaelson herself didn’t think it was a riot either. She was distracted by the heat as well as the realization that this was the first time she had ever set foot in Asia.

Before she could explore the continent further, their group was confronted by three air-conditioned buses, two unlicensed Russian photographers, who were chased away by the police, and one rabbi. His name was Rabbi Sherman, but he encouraged them to call him Rabbi Rick. He looked younger than Mrs. Michaelson had expected—though actually in his forties, he could have passed for thirty-five—and more attractive than any rabbi had a right to be. He was also unusually hairy. The top of his head, his arms, his hands, the back of his neck, and even his feet, peeking through the gaps in his brown leather sandals, were all covered in black wool.

Rabbi Sherman, riding in the first bus of their caravan, led them to their hotel, which boasted a commanding view of the harbor. Mrs. Michaelson took it in alone on the terrace after dinner. A sultry breeze blew in from the purple water of Haifa harbor, where the crescent moon was reflected as a series of white dashes on the waves. Within minutes, her dress was sticking to the skin under her arms and along the neckline.

Clutching an empty wineglass, Mrs. Michaelson closed her eyes and imagined she was having a religious moment. A trickle of sweat inched its way down between her breasts; a mosquito tickled her ear. “It’s so late. . . .” she murmured.

A high, sharp voice, like a seagull, cried out, “Who’s there?”

Someone moved in the shadows. Mrs. Michaelson made out the wide smile first, a wall of chiseled white teeth. The smile belonged to a short, sharp-chinned woman with pointy elbows jutting out of a glittery tissue-thin shawl. She padded up to Mrs. Michaelson in her bare feet.

“Sherry Sherman,” said the stranger, her right hand thrust forward like a gun.

Mrs. Michaelson, who wasn’t the type to accost strangers minding their own business, gave a bored smile, as if she were placing her order at dinner. When she smiled, her kind gray eyes pressed together so tightly it was impossible to see into them.

“I’m sort of a den mother to you folks,” Sherry said. “Rabbi Rick and I live together in Tel Aviv. No, no, nothing like that. Of course, I’m much too old for him. And there’s one more small matter: he’s my son! By the way, your dress is stunning. Did you find it in New York City? I hope you don’t mind spilling all your secrets.”

“This?” Mrs. Michaelson said, holding out the material so that Sherry Sherman could admire the workmanship more easily. “It’s just something I made. The pattern was easy.”

“You made it?” said Sherry, fluffing her tight curls with the tips of her fingers. She was bony and spry like a cat, not a bit like the tall, strapping rabbi, who plodded ahead of their group with his shoulders thrown back like the Great White Hunter. “I don’t know anyone who still sews. Maybe a button, not a whole dress. You really made it? Now that’s special. But aren’t I interrupting? I heard you talking to someone.”

“I wasn’t talking to anyone . . .” said Mrs. Michaelson, who talked to herself so often that she’d had plenty of practice making excuses.

“Hush! Do you feel that breeze? That’s a typical Middle Eastern cooling breeze blowing in off the Mediterranean. Take a moment to let it soak into your skin.”

Mrs. Michaelson took a moment, but didn’t notice anything particularly special about the breeze. Chatty women made her feel like the chubby, soft-spoken girl she’d been in grade school, always dressed in stiff, frilly dresses suitable for antique dolls.

“You’re here for an adventure. Am I right? In that case, I’ll have to keep my eye on you to see how it turns out. If only I could visit Israel for the first time all over again.” Sherry sighed, then recited, “ ‘If I forget thee, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.’ That’s from Psalms.”

“I’ve heard that one,” Mrs. Michaelson said, smashing a mosquito on her neck.

“ ‘In Jerusalem, everyone remembers he’s forgotten something, but he doesn’t remember what it is.’ That’s by Yehuda Amichai, one of our great poets.” Sherry stared directly at Mrs. Michaelson, who looked away, back at the harbor. “You seem to have a case of the jitters, dear. It’s natural. I see it in all you first-timers, especially Americans. Listen, I’ve lived in Israel for six months, so I’m something of an expert now, and I can tell you we’re far safer here than in the States. Street crime’s practically unheard of. Death by tourism? Extremely rare.”

Mrs. Michaelson preferred not to dwell on morbid subjects like death. Someday she would die but, thankfully, when it happened, she wouldn’t be around to know about it.

“If we change how we live, then the terrorists win,” Sherry said with a firm nod. “You’re far more likely to die in a horrible car crash at home than by a bomb in an Israeli marketplace, but do you stop driving? No. You minimize the risk by wearing a seat belt, which, thanks to Ralph Nader, is now standard in all vehicles. Rabbi Rick...

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Verlag
Random House Inc
Erscheinungsdatum
2005
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
1400062985
ISBN 13 
9781400062980
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
340
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
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