41 – North of Boston
Ben Shapiro thought that with all the craziness - his Nana Ida’s constant complaints about “mishegas,” Yiddish for craziness, came into Shapiro’s head, causing him to smile - OK, with all the mishegas in the world and in Boston, why was his house, too, turned on its head? He’d spent the past two nights sleeping in the guest room on a lumpy futon rather than the Swedish foam mattress he was used to, sleeping alone, which he certainly was not used to.
And like the other craziness in the world, this craziness, too, involved Jews and what was happening with Jews, actually, with one Jew in particular, Ben Shapiro.
“You are totally and completely obsessed with this thing,” Sally screamed earlier that week at dinner. “It’s all you talk about and, it seems, all you are doing at work. What about your other cases? Who’s working on them, on the cases that actually make us some money? What about your other cases?”
“My partners, my law partners, understand how important this case is to me. They’re covering me,” Shapiro said. “I’m not obsessed with this. It’s just that this is important, extremely important, maybe the most important thing that has happened in my entire life.”
“I thought I was the most important thing in your life, or at least that Adam was,” Sally said flatly. “Remember, Adam, your son?”
“Yes, yes, yes, of course you are, both of you, but I mean in my work life, no not just my work life, my, my, other than my family life,” Shapiro was fed up with his wife’s complaining about something that he acknowledged to himself had taken over his thoughts and time.
“Look, honey ...” He saw her eyes go wide at that phrase. She was in no mood for sweet talk from him. “I mean, listen, I’ve spent my whole life, my whole life as a lawyer at least, taking on case after case to protect peoples’ rights. And who have I represented? Gay people, women, poor people, black people, pornographers, Nazis, Goddamn Nazis who wanted to hold a Goddamn Nazi parade in Boston.
“And who have I never, ever represented? Whose rights have I never defended? Jews. That’s who. Well, now is the time. You know, there is a question asked by an Italian Jewish writer, he was in a concentration camp, Primo Levi. He wrote a book called ‘If Not Now, When.’ I keep thinking that if Ben Shapiro, the great civil rights defender, won’t take a stand for Jews now, when will I, when should I?”
Shapiro glared at his wife. Neither was in any mood to compromise, not on this issue.
“You Jews have a fucking famous saying for everything. I’m sick of it all,” Sally said. “You know, Ben, there comes a time when you’ve got to decide whether you’re a Jew or an American. Sometimes you can’t be both. I agree these are difficult times, but, Ben, look, there were enemy soldiers on those boats, not just refugees, soldiers. And they fired weapons at Americans, at the Coast Guard. And they killed them, they killed every one of them.
“I can’t stop thinking about the mothers of those poor kids on those boats, killed right in Boston Harbor, where you’d think your son or daughter would be safe. It could have been Adam on those Coast Guard boats. And for you to be defending the people who did that killing, I can’t understand it, Ben. I simply can’t understand it.
“What would you say to the mother of that girl who was killed, the one in the Coast Guard?”
He looked at her, assuming her question was rhetorical and that there was more of the same to follow. More likely, he thought, it could have been Adam on those refugee ships. He didn’t dare say that to her. Sally went on.
“My God, Ben, what if you win? You’re such a good lawyer, you always win. What if you win? What if you get these killers off? What will people say? How will we live with that? What about me? What about Adam? Have you thought about any of that Mr. Civil Rights?”
Shapiro’s normal means of dealing with his wife’s anger was to give in. That tactic didn’t leave him satisfied, but it brought their conflicts to an end.
Submission squirmed in his belly. He resisted. Not this time, he thought.
Sally usually won. If she outlasted him. She fired her next salvo.
“It’s already happening, you know. You are just so caught up that you are oblivious to what is happening, happening even to your own son, you know?”
“What do you mean,” he asked. “What’s happening? Did something happen to Adam?”
“Yes, something happened to Adam,” Sally said, pausing between each word. “You were on the news again the other night. I know you say you don’t even watch yourself on the news because its no big deal. But you were on the news a few days ago, another story about you defending that Jew who murdered the Coast Guard people. And they said you said it was all a misunderstanding and your client had nothing to do with anything.
“Well, there was a memorial service at Adam’s school for the Coast Guard people who were killed. And the principal, Mr. Williams, remember him, you once said he was a wonderful principal, well Mr. Williams gave a speech. And he said that the lawyer for the murderers said it was just a misunderstanding.” She lifted both hands in the air, two fingers extended to place quotation remarks around the word.
“And then the principal said something that anybody who defends a murderer of Americans is as guilty as the murderers themselves. Well, after that some of the kids started talking about how Adam’s father was the lawyer defending that murderer Jew. And I guess they started pushing him around and he got pushed to the ground and somebody kicked him and he came home from school with his clothes all torn, and he was crying like I’ve never heard him cry before. He said they kept calling him a Jew. That is what you are doing to your family.”
She glared at Shapiro. Scored some points with that one, she thought. If he doesn’t care about hurting me, he stills cares about his son. Sally Spofford was not a woman to stop when she was winning.
“And, well, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but some of my friends have been talking, too. You know the Rodger’s dinner party we were supposed to go to next weekend, their anniversary party that they made such a big deal about?”
“Yes, what about it.”
“Janice Rodgers called me and, oh so politely of course, you know how totally proper Janice is, suggested that perhaps it would be a good idea if you and I skipped the party. Because of all that’s happening, she said, as if that’s supposed to explain everything.”
Shapiro pushed his chair back, walked to the other side of the table and opened his arms to invite his wife to hug. She remained seated, folded her arms across her chest and shook her head from side to side.
“I’m sorry, Sally,” Shapiro said. “I didn’t know about any of this. Why didn’t you tell me about Adam, or about that party. I know how much you were looking forward to that party. You bought a new dress and everything.”
Contrition got him nowhere.
“I didn’t tell you about Adam because this is the first night since it happened that you’ve come home before I went to bed. You may have noticed that we haven’t seen much of each other recently. In fact, when is the last time you saw your son awake?
“And I didn’t tell you about the party because,” she hesitated, then spoke again, “because what Janice actually said was that it might be a good idea if you, you, Ben, didn’t come. She said that of course I was still welcome. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do. At least I hadn’t decided until right now. I just decided that I am going to the party. By myself. I’ll expect you to be home to babysit your son.”
“If that’s what you want to do, then go ahead and do it,” Shapiro said. “I can’t say I understand, but I guess there isn’t a whole lot I can do about it.”
He turned his back to his wife and started to walk from the room. She spoke to his back. He stopped and turned.
“Ben, what I don’t understand is how this one case, this one client, is taking over your life. Can’t you please back off from this case?”
Shapiro hesitated, stared at the ceiling, then spoke slowly.
“Actually, Sally, it isn’t just one case,” he said, instantly realizing that he was opening the door to another storm. “I’m representing a few other people, too, some people who were arrested that night from their homes. There’s a legal committee that was formed to defend all those people who are in custody.”
Her reaction was what he’d expected, a flash of lightning followed by dark clouds.
“A legal committee? So what if there is a committee of some sort,” Sally asked. “Are you involved in that, are you representing all those Israelis, the soldiers who were on those ships. No, no, no, tell me you’re not doing that, Ben.”
“Actually,” he said softly, knowing he was making a mistake but unable to miss the opportunity to place one more barrier between himself and his wife. “They asked me to be the head of the defense committee. And I agreed to do it. That’s what’s kept me so busy the last few days, and nights.
“Honey, a tzadik ...”
She waved her hands from side to side in front of her face to cut him off and stood up from the dinner table, pushing her plate away from her.
“I can’t take this. I’m going up to read. You can do the dishes. Good night.” He heard her footsteps tramping up the stairs to their bedroom.
When Shapiro slowly climbed those same stairs two hours later, he found the door closed and his pajamas on the floor in the hall. The message was clear. He’d spent the past two nights in the guest room, not sleeping particularly well.
Mishegas, Shapiro thought as he drove into Boston. Even though he let it slide when she said it, what rankled him the most about his wife was her use of the term “you Jews” in the middle of her rant. She’d never spoken like that before, and it bothered him, extremely.
Mishegas.
As he pulled into his parking space in the garage next to the John F. Kennedy Federal Building in downtown Boston, near City Hall, Shapiro recalled that he was scheduled to meet Judy Katz for lunch that day. He was surprised to find himself intrigued by the idea of meeting the young woman who he’d read about in the newspapers but never run into. He laughed at himself when he thought that from the photos in the newspapers, she was a real hottee, at least for a lawyer.
He was surprised at how disappointed he was to find an email from the young assistant United States Attorney saying she was going to take a few days off. Could they meet for lunch next week, she asked?