Just don’t let anyone come in don’t let anyone come in don’t let anyone come in, Gedalya silently prays

Like Yaakov Avinu, all Gedalya Silver wants is to sit in peace.

He has to review Hed Kevudah, the women’s supplement, before the afternoon deadline. But the elderly, virtually retired CEO pounces on him. Gedalya suppresses a sigh. He could only wish Bubbe Silver would still be as sprightly as the Big Boss, who at age 83 still doggedly goes to work every day and hounds his employees.

“Reb Gedalya, you can’t give up on the surgery,” the Boss says. “We’ll also help you, of course. But first of all, talk to the experts, the people who really know how to raise money.”

“It’s not really so relevant right now,” Gedalya says politely, wondering how to extract himself from this situation. It had started as a simple, “How is your daughter?” and moved quickly to the unsolicited advice stage.

“Why would it not be relevant?” the Boss pushes on. “There’s this organization that works with us sometimes, they’re called… what’s their name again? Just a second, I’ll ask my Chananya.” His voice rises to an earsplitting croak. “Cha-NAN…”

“No, no,” Gedalya hushes him desperately. And now the Boss settles himself in the chair across from him. He won’t be going anywhere very soon. Gedalya makes a mental note to get rid of that chair. Or at least to pile it up with heavy ring binders.

“Listen to me, Gedalya. You’re young, you’re brash, you haven’t married off children yet. I’m an old man — old enough to be your grandfather, right? So listen to me. When it comes to your family’s health, you don’t compromise. You go for the best. Here, let me find it for you, the phone number of this expert — she’s young, but she’s already run some very successful campaigns… they fly children to Belgium, to America, wherever they need to.”

The old CEO starts rummaging in his pants pockets, pulling out creased memos in pastel hues. Next, he tries his shirt pockets, producing a pen, a tissue, a safety pin, and another wrinkled memo slip. “I got it! Here is it. Her name is Yaffit. I don’t remember what the firm is called, you can ask our marketing staff. Tell her I sent you. They send children for procedures abroad, very big procedures. What’s one little ear to them?”

Just don’t let anyone come in don’t let anyone come in don’t let anyone come in, Gedalya silently prays. To have the whole office gossiping about Tovi, about her condition, her surgery, is more than he could bear. And if the CEO didn’t spend his abundant leisure time interrogating his employees about every detail of their lives, this conversation wouldn’t be taking place at all.