BLOOMFIELD HILLS, MICHIGAN
43
MOSES PARTED THE RED SEA

Rita and Levi Rubenstein sat down to another silent dinner. Levi bowed his head in silent prayer. Rita gritted her teeth, gnashing them loud enough to irritate her spouse. Tonight they were having matzo and corned beef. A loaf of bakery bread sat untouched on the cutting board. A three-layer chocolate cake graced the sideboard, as though awaiting a party.

“Nice cake,” Levi commented. “What’s the occasion, already?”

“It’s nothing. Just my birthday.” Rita was glum.

“You feeling all right? Having a coronary, maybe? You let it slide when I forget your birthday? I should check the obituaries and see if I died.”

“It’s not important. Nothing seems important anymore.” Rita dabbed her eyes, leaving a slash of black mascara on the fine linen.

“Is it the kids?” Levi was worried. “I think about them all the time, too.” He pulled his prayer book from his pocket. “You want I should read you one of these? They’re very comforting. Psalms. Part of the Old Testament, same as the Torah, you know.”

She nodded absently. He was surprised. He opened the book and found the passage.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures . . . “

The door opened, and on the threshold stood Hannah, Ruth, and Louey. There was a colorful parrot perched on Louey’s shoulder.

“Hey, anybody alive in here? It was so quiet, I thought I had the wrong apartment,” Hallelujah Rubenstein grinned, but her heart sank. Her parents had aged ten years in the short time she’d been gone. Rita threw her arms open and ran to them.

“My God, you’re starving,” Rita shouted. “What’s that feather duster on your shoulder?”

“It’s a turkey!” Levi said as he gathered the girls into his arms.

“Grandfather! It’s an African Gray parrot. His name is Dillinger,” Hannah informed him.

“My God,” Rita stood back and looked at the girls. “You’ve grown a foot. And so beautiful. This is the best birthday present ever. I’m a little verclempt.”

“Ma, calm down. We haven’t even been gone a month.”

“Where have you been? The police list you as missing persons. God forbid they haul you away.” Levi waggled his finger in her face.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Dillinger interjected, bobbing his head with enthusiasm. Then he flapped to the television and lunched on a bouquet of tacky plastic flowers.

“There’s so much to tell you. The girls and I have had quite a harrowing experience,” Louey said.

“You were kidnapped?”

“No, Ma.”

“By gypsies. Oh my God. They raped all of you. Then they made you bring that feathered monstrosity home.”

“Mother. Stop. Nobody raped us. We’re just fine. And don’t insult Dillinger, he’s very smart.”

“Birds carry disease, Hallelujah. Elmira, you know her. Frosted hair. Wears polyester. She told me people are catching meningitis right in the streets. I told Levi that our Louey couldn’t be sick . . .she would have called. Now you have a chicken with you.”

“Not a chicken, Ma. It’s a parrot. We’ll talk. Both of you sit down.”

Reluctantly, they did. Ensconced on the couch, a grandchild on each side, Louey’s parents listened as their daughter spun an unbelievable tale. When she was done, they eyed each other.

“She’s rounded the bend.”

“I don’t think so, Mother,” Levi replied, looking at his daughter. She glowed with happiness. “I think she still has one more secret. Hallelujah, you received a letter a few days ago. From Australia.” He handed her the envelope.

Rita socked him in the arm. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“That’s because you’d have been over the tea kettle steaming it open.” He looked at Louey, “I didn’t open it. I thought perhaps it was from a beau.” Levi gave his wife the evil eye.

“Oh, Levi. Don’t be ridiculous.” Rita watched her daughter’s face for a clue. “Well, Hallelujah?”

Louey was reading the letter.

“I’m getting married.”

“Well, it’s about time!” Rita bounced so exuberantly on the couch Levi nearly flew off.

“Mom, I’ve met the most wonderful man.”

“Honey, I’m so happy to have you home I don’t care if he’s Jewish or gentile. Who are his parents? Do they have money?”

“Mom, stop chattering. Dillinger belongs to Hank.”

“Men who have birds are gay,” Rita said.

“I’m afraid your mother’s right,” Levi agreed.

“You two really are something. Hank’s asked me to marry him and move to Australia. He says it’s beautiful. Steve Brooks got there yesterday. He’s sending for Emily Underhill.”

“Who’s Emily . . . oh, never mind. So Hank’s coming back to the States?” Levi prodded.

“He is, but he says he wants to live there.”

“My God. My heart . . . “

“Oh, Grandma. You’re so silly. There’s nothing wrong with your heart,” Ruth giggled.

“Oh yes there is. I haven’t had a bowel movement . . .”

“Grandma, “I missed you,” Hannah soothed. “Your bowels aren’t hooked to your heart, Stretch told me so.”

“My God, they’re getting married, too?” Rita wailed.

“Oh, Grandma,” Dillinger cackled. “My God, my heart.” He collapsed in a colorful heap amid the shards of plastic petals.

“Kids, it’s time for bed.” Louey herded the girls to the guest room where they nestled into bed and watched sitcom reruns on the portable television. Louey watched for a short time, then clicked the set off after her children had fallen peacefully asleep.

When Louey got back to the living room, her parents had migrated to the balcony.

“I’m glad you’re still up. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About my life, about yours. About the holocaust and how it affected your lives.”

Rita paled. Levi’s ancient, dark eyes teared.

“I learned a lot about myself while I was gone. I know now you can’t always be in control; life can change on a moment’s notice and you have to be prepared to fight for your survival.”

“Louey,” Rita said. “We wanted your life to be safe and pleasant. Not filled with the horrors of violence and death.”

“We knew the enemy could get past our government after the Trade Towers came down. But then we got complacent again. I never thought I’d be willing to stand up for something even if it cost me my life.” Her parents’ eyes were on her.

“I understand what it means to be Jewish now. Before, it was just a word. Now it’s my heritage. I am a part of people who’ve endured extreme hardships and stood the test of time. We survived. I just wanted the opportunity to tell you that I respect you and love you for who you are.”

“You’re not ashamed to be Jewish?” Levi asked.

“Ashamed? No Dad, I’m very, very proud.” Louey hugged the old man, who was trembling.

“Maybe I was ashamed,” Levi said slowly. “I was running from my own past.” He gathered his daughter in his arms, caressing her hair. “Not since you were a little girl, Hallelujah, have I held you like the cherished daughter you are.”

“We’ll have cake.” Rita busied herself with her favorite solace, food.

Rita Rubenstein had the best birthday of her life. As she handed a plate to Louey, her daughter glimpsed the tattoo on her arm as if for the first time. The dark blue stain seemed to taint her soul.

That night they dreamed of many things. Of the Outback with wide-open spaces, koala bears hanging from trees, and kangaroos leaping over grassy fields. Of mountains of eyeglasses, abandoned suitcases, and the rumble of a train. And of a great red rock.

In the living room, Dillinger enjoyed a late night snack of birthday candles. Then he settled for the night on a nice green chair.

“It’s almost,” he told the empty room, “Like my chair at home.”
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Here it is, the final chapter of “No Tour Guides in Hell.” The Epilogue will follow right on its heels. The entire novel will be available on our website until March 31. All 3 books are available from Amazon in print and as e-books.