The Ritual Bath

“Hey, ain’t I got a right to walk in a park?” The boy sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I mean, hey, a park’s a public place!”

“You’ve got rights. Sure, you’ve got rights. Everybody’s got rights. I was just making sure that Mrs. Sanchez gets her rights, too.”

The grandmother gave him a warm smile.

Decker prodded a sunken chest with his index finger. “Why don’t you beat it?”

“Hey, man, I’m goin’, I’m goin’.”

The detective watched him cross the street. When the boy had disappeared, he returned to the bench.

“Junkie,” he said, sitting down. “They prey on people like the good little Señora: old women with children who can’t give them chase. Sneak up, grab their purses, and they’re a couple bucks richer with very little effort.”

“What a world,” Rina said. “Until now we’d always felt so insulated from all the outside problems.”

“Unfortunately, you’re not.” He turned to face her. “You know what I’d really like?”

“What?”

“I’d really like to see you again.”

Rina didn’t reply.

“If you don’t go out to eat, how about a couple of drinks, dancing?”

She felt sick.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

Decker’s face was impassive.

“Well, we’d better be getting back,” he said, standing up.

“It’s nothing personal, Peter.”

“Forget it.”

“Honestly, it’s not because I don’t want to.”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“It’s impossible. You’ve seen the world I live in. You must understand.”

She turned away. Decker stared at her profile and felt the frustration grow.

“What I’d like to understand is why you bothered coming down here in the first place? Feeding me lunch? Dragging me out of the station? Everything you told me could have been easily said over the phone. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d like getting out, escaping from all the tension. I was just trying to be nice.”

“Well, you were very nice. Let’s go.”

“I’ve got to say grace after meals first.”

Decker flipped his wrist and checked his watch.

“Go ahead.”

She bentched rapidly in silence, but her eyes kept glancing at his face. The more she looked at him, the worse she felt.

“Please don’t be mad,” she said when she had finished her prayers.

“I’m not mad,” he answered coldly. “Just disappointed. But I understand. I’m a goy, you’re a Jew. Let’s go.”

He was driving exceptionally fast and still looked irritated, but she didn’t say anything. He was right. She had given him the wrong impression, and now she felt stupid. It was a mistake for her to come down here. It was a mistake to leave the yeshiva.

He shot through the tail end of an amber light, and a black-and-white caught him.

“Shit,” Decker said as he saw the flashing lights. “Who are those jokers? A couple of morons?” He swung the car over until he was side by side with the police car.

“Sorry, Pete,” the policeman said. “My partner’s a rookie and didn’t recognize the car.”

“Okay,” Decker shouted back. “Hey, Doug, if you want to roust someone, I just saw Ramon Gomez, and he needed a fix badly. He was about to pull a 211 purse snatch on little old lady Sanchez.”

“Where was he?” the officer asked.

“Arleta Park. I kicked him out, but he’s probably hanging around.”

“Will do.”

The patrol car sped off.

Five minutes later they were standing in front of her old Volvo.

“I’m really sorry if I led you on.”

Decker shook his head in self-disgust.

“People hear what they want to hear. I’m no exception. It was inappropriate for me—”

“Oh no, it wasn’t. I mean, I’m not offended by anything you did.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled at her, and she seemed relieved. “Just take care of yourself. You still have my numbers?”

“They’re pinned next to my home phone and the one in the mikvah.”

“You’re welcome to use them whenever you want.”

“Thank you.”