Friday Night with Sandy
It was a cool Friday night in October, and Sandy had invited Felix to come with her to a dinner at a prominent member of the Jewish community, perhaps a rabbi. She told him that it would mean a lot for him to come as she wanted him to get a taste of the kind of Judaism she had been experiencing in the last several months. He thought it was a bit curious — what did she care what kind of Judaism he did or didn’t practice? He supposed it was a bit like when somebody got into something and wanted to share it with their friends — be it a newly discovered band or kind of cheese or even yogurt.
“What’s your name?” asked somebody at the table. There must have been about two dozen people at the table, a variety of ages. The person asking him appeared to be an older gentleman, perhaps even the head of the house.
“Felix,” he said, and he could tell that his response was not well met.
“Do you perhaps have a Hebrew name, like maybe one you got when you were a baby or at your bar mitzvah?”
“Bar Mitzvah?” Felix asked. Was he kidding? His bar mitzvah was half a lifetime ago and he certainly hadn’t thought about it since then. Another name?
The man closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He looked back at Felix and said, “Ephraim?”
That name actually did sound familiar. “You may be right, mister… uhm… I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“Shmuel Erlichman,” he said, “Thank you so much for coming to my home tonight. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time.
“Felix!” he heard Sandy whisper from his left, “That’s Rabbi Erlichman! Didn’t I tell you he’s the one who invited us?”
It was a bit of information that would have been most useful, certainly.
if you enjoyed this story, it is one of fifty stories from the New York Living book series by Gordon Davidescu. You can find the rest in the book Stories in the Key of Kate (affiliate Amazon link here.) Additionally, you can get free weekly fiction, non-fiction, poetry and more from Gordon Davidescu here.
