“Anonymous donor? Come on. Send me the wire info and I’ll tell you who it is in ten seconds flat. Give me a break”

"S

himshy, what can I say? You’ve arrived. You made it. I know it and I think you know it too,” Rabbi Wasser said.

“Did you notice,” he went on as he lifted the blinds, purposely allowing sun into the room so that he could pretend he didn’t notice that Shimshy Lieber was crying, “did you notice that no one laughed or made comments when you were there at seven o’clock this morning? Do you chap that people are taking it seriously?”

Lieber nodded, not yet able to speak.

“That’s what I mean, Shimshy,” Rabbi Wasser said gently. “Real respect doesn’t come from compliments and it doesn’t come from kavod, that’s fake. It’s not about words. It’s about moments like this, you rolling in half an hour before Shacharis today and the guys who were there — Jacobs, Tishler, and Sutton — not even giving you a second glance. No one said, ‘You, Lieber?’ That’s a big deal.”

“Whatsamatter Lieber, you couldn’t sleep?” Shimshy spoke up in an exaggerated mocking voice, and the rosh yeshivah laughed.

“It feels good,” Rabbi Wasser said. “You’re working hard and people are noticing. That means you accomplished something big this zeman. People only take you seriously when you take yourself seriously. If you’re trying to impress others, it doesn’t work, but if you’re focused on growing, these things fall into place.”

Shimshy nodded. He knew exactly what the rosh yeshivah meant. Rabbi Wasser knew all about Shimshy’s parents, about how important appearances were to them.

Also, Shimshy thought, it was shpitz Rabbi Wasser not to mention the tears. Most rebbis would push the tissue box forward and cough uncomfortably, but not Rabbi Wasser.

He just went to stand at the window.

Shuey Portman hadn’t been at Avi Korman’s house since that first meeting last spring, and he parked with more confidence this time.

Korman, he noticed, had gone from a Range Rover to a silver Audi, while he was still driving a dented old Avalon, but still…

Raffi had texted him again this morning, and he had been meaning to talk to Henny about it — was he meant to return to the stage? — when Korman’s text had come in asking if he was around Lakewood and did he have a few minutes.

Yes, he replied, he happened to be in Lakewood.

Great, Korman wrote back, can we meet at 9:15?

So here he was. Who knew what Korman wanted? He was still a parent in the yeshivah and formally registered as president of the yeshivah.

Shuey Portman had stopped wondering what was coming next. He would roll with it.