Gabe has spent a lifetime dodging conflict, and he isn’t about to change that now

“I

think he’s Rivi Greenberg’s brother.”

“I heard he lives in the Amazon rainforest.”

“I remember him from school. Weird kid. Looks like he turned out okay. Coming to shul and everything.” At that last whisper, Gabe looks up surreptitiously and spots a man who doesn’t look familiar. Maybe it’s the beard.

The murmurs follow him through the shul on Shabbos morning. No one is quiet enough, and the whispers are curious, though not hostile. He can’t be the only stranger in shul this Shabbos, but he must be the most interesting one.

Truthfully, he hadn’t even wanted to go. Shul has never been a great place for him. Abba had only gone on good weeks, and he’d stood to the side and avoided conversation. Gabe would stand next to him, feeling oddly protective of him and uncomfortable at the same time.

By his teenage years, Gabe had opted to avoid shul altogether. Rivi would go by herself some weeks, meeting friends and davening intensely in between, and Gabe would sleep in and stagger out to daven just before the meal. Now, he makes it before zeman Krias Shema most days, a little bit of order to cling to in a world devoid of frumkeit.

But Ezra was so eager to bring him along that Gabe hadn’t the heart to say no. Ezra is the kind of person who is genuinely kind, and Gabe is glad to make him happy. He might not talk to Rivi much anymore, but she deserves someone as good and giving as Ezra in her life. She’d suffered Abba and Gabe through childhood, and Gabe had once worried that she’d marry someone just like them. But Ezra is everything that Rivi had always wanted, and Gabe is relieved for her.