Driven to the Edge

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“M
rs. Feltner? This is Dudu Roth Yoel’s friend. Remember me?”
Of course I remembered Dudu. He had gone to yeshivah with my 24-year-old son Yoel, and had later become a hotshot lawyer — something of a rarity in the Israeli chareidi community.
“Sure! Are you looking for Yoel?”
Pause. “Actually, I just called Yoel to get your number. You’re the one I need to speak to.”
Dudu was still single — did he need shidduch information? A Shabbos meal? “How can I help you?” I asked.
“I have some information I think you should know about.” Dudu was speaking in a lawyer voice. What could he possibly want to tell me?
“You’re probably unaware that I represented your son Shimshi in court a couple of months ago,” he began.
Shimshi? In court? What was he talking about?
“Shimshi was caught driving without a license before Pesach.”
I had to sit down to process this. Shimshi, driving? I have a bunch of boys, and of all of them, Shimshi is the last one I’d imagine doing such a thing. He’s a real eideleh neshamah, the type who wouldn’t dream of making any sort of trouble.
“W-what happened?” I stammered.
“Let me start from the beginning.”
This is the story he told me.
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