The Forgotten

“What else, Yonkie?”

“That’s it.”

Silence.

“No, really. That’s it.” He showed Decker his forearms. “See? I’m clean. I’m very angry, but I’m not chemically altered. You’re seeing the unadulterated Yonkel.”

Decker tried out a smile. He thought he was partially successful. “What about sex?”

“What about it?”

“Are you sexually active? I’d like to be sure that you’re protecting yourself.”

“Very much so.” Jacob smiled. “I’m not doing anything.”

Decker’s laugh was real. “Okay.”

“I made this deal with myself, that I’d wait with girls until I go away next year to Johns Hopkins. I have to work to keep the grades up, and girls are a distraction. Mostly, I’ll be older, the girls will be older. It ain’t easy, but I can wait.”

“That’s very smart.” Decker stalled. Somehow he got the words out. “Actually, when I asked you if you’d like to tell me something, I was thinking about criminal activity, Jacob.”

Jacob turned red and looked away.

“Am I way off base?” Decker asked.

Jacob continued to stare off. “I shoplifted.”

“B-and-Es?”

“No.” He looked at Decker. “No.”

Decker was about to say, “Okay, I believe you,” but he couldn’t find his voice.

Jacob said, “I shoplifted. Mostly booze, but I also stole about a dozen CDs over about a three-month period.” A pause. “Sixteen CDs. Don’t ask me how I did it with all those metal detectors. There are ways. I’m doing kapparah for it.”

“What kind of atonement?” Decker asked, using the English word.

“I never opened the CDs. They were still in their wrappers.” A beat. “Two months ago Dr. Gruen called the store manager. He explained the situation without mentioning names. Then he returned the CDs for me, no questions asked. As far as the stolen booze goes, I screwed up my nerve and did that myself. I used to hit this mom-and-pop liquor store. The owner—Mr. Kim—he’s being decent about the whole thing. We reached an agreement—a price. I’m working it off—manual labor stuff. Stocking shelves, sweeping, cleaning … watching kids for theft. Now, that is ironic, Alanis Morissette. I do it on Shabbos because it’s the only day I have off. Eema thinks I’m with friends, but I’m not. You can check it out if you want.”

“Where is this place?”

“About four miles from the house. I walk there after lunch. Yossie picks me up after dark. I used to see some of the old crowd there. Now they stay clear of me and of Mr. Kim. I may not have scared Ruby Ranger, but I think I scared lots of them.”

Decker rubbed his head.

“I’ve given you a headache.”

“I’m just glad you told me all this after the fact.”

Jacob said, “I’m doing better, Dad. It’s hard, but I’ll be all right.”

“Yonkie …” Decker cleared his throat. “Am I wrong in assuming that the bastard who molested you did more than you’ve admitted?”

Again the teen turned red. “I told you everything that I remembered. But there may be stuff that … that I blocked out. I was only seven, so … you know.”

Decker felt sick to his stomach. What did that motherfucker do? Calmly, he said, “Are you talking about it with Dr. Gruen?”

“Bit by bit. When it comes back to me.” Jacob flashed him a quick smile. “You want to talk about Ruby Ranger?”

Decker was happy to change the subject. Did that indicate a weakness on his part as a parent not to probe deeper? Or was he rationalizing it by telling himself that it was best left to the professional? Decker was only human. There was only so much he could absorb at one time. “What can you tell me about her?”

“Objectively, she’s smart—a computer person. I bet she’s an amateur hacker. She’s sexy enough to get plenty of guys if you’re into that severe Goth look. I could see her talking Ernesto into vandalizing the shul. She’d get off on that. But she’d never get her own hands dirty. That wouldn’t be fun for her. Her thing is manipulation, getting you to act out her pathology.” He grinned. “I sound pretty shrinky, don’t I?”

“You’ve learned the lingo.”

“When in Rome …” He looked at Decker. “If you talk to her, tell her to go to hell for me.”

“She’ll be interviewed but not by me.”

“Ah!” Jacob smiled. “Conflict of interest.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry to be such a burden to you. Don’t worry. I’m out of your hair in a few months. Surely, you can hang with that.”

“Jacob, you’re not in my hair.”

“Sure, Dad.” He gave him a sour smile. “Actually, I’m looking forward to Johns Hopkins and getting out on my own. And I’m not going to shoot anyone. Although if I did pop Ruby Ranger, I’d be doing the world a service.”

“That’s not funny, Jacob.”

“I didn’t mean it to be.”

11 (#ulink_03a518d1-6e6b-5aa6-a518-292b59205c3b)

Installing and painting bookshelves gave Decker much needed downtime, using his body instead of his mind. By two in the morning, the chemical cleaning fumes had become overwhelming, so the shul gang broke for the night. Rina was out as soon as she hit the pillow, but Decker remained fitful, dreaming in dribs and drabs about rebellious boys, his own stepson included. He awoke with a start at five-thirty—it was still dark—and drowned his lethargy with three cups of espresso. At six, he took his prayer shawl and his phylacteries and rushed over to the synagogue to join the men in morning services—an anomaly because usually their small house of worship couldn’t round up a quorum. But the events of yesterday motivated the community to try a little harder.

Right before the services started, half of Yonkie’s school—including Yonkie—came in to join them. Some smart kid even had the grace to bring in Danishes and juice as a reward for participation. It was downright homespun and everyone seemed friendlier, more social and a lot more grateful—praying with sincerity … making it count. By eight—after demolishing the snacks—the men started leaving to begin their working day. Rina, along with several other women, came in just as the men were filing out. They were holding pails, scrub brushes, scouring pads, and lots of Scotch tape to piece together torn bits of the holy books. Decker helped them unload the cleaning material.

“I’ve never seen the place so spotless,” he remarked to his wife.

“Almost like it never happened,” Rina answered. “What’s with that kid? Why on earth would he do such a terrible thing? I know you can’t answer me. I’m just wondering out loud.”

“Darling, I’m just as confused as you.”

Rina regarded her husband. “Poor Peter. You look tired.”

“I’m fine.” Decker smiled to prove the point. “How come you look so good? It’s not fair.”