Aharon’s family soon learned of his terrible fate. They pleaded with Kuzma to release Aharon from the dark, grimy pit behind the rich man’s house, but their cries fell on deaf ears.

“I waited for my rent long enough!” Kuzma bellowed as Aharon’s wife Blima sobbed before him. “He deserves his punishment! Come up with the money yourself or he’ll rot there forever!”

“Please have mercy,” Blima begged. “You know that I can’t leave my baby and go to work. I could never get the money for you. Release my husband — he can work and give to you what is owed.”

“Ha! He couldn’t do it before, why would anything change now?” Kuzma scoffed. “Now would you stop all this whining — you’re making me hungry! Agni, fetch the croissants laced with chocolate and grab a pitcher of beer while you’re at it.”

“Yes, master,” Agni the servant murmured, looking quite relieved to be afforded the opportunity to leave the room.

“So, what were we talking about?” Kuzma asked as Agni returned with his afternoon snacks.

“My husband—”

“Ah, that’s right! Music!” Kuzma said loudly. “Did you know that I broke my poor foot the other night? That really put me in a sour mood. Every year I host a party and challenge everyone to dance to the tune of the hopak dance. Even while wearing a 100-pound bear suit, nobody can keep up with me.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with me,” Blima stammered. “I just want my husband home.”

“Well, isn’t that nice,” Kuzma huffed. “You don’t seem to be interested at all in my dancing woes. Well, that’s fine. But know this: I’m not letting your husband free until he can dance the hopak in my bear costume. How do you like that, eh?”

“But Aharon is a terrible dancer! And besides, dancing the hopak in a heavy costume is nearly impossible!” Blima cried.

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 725)