“Hershie hated the business.” Big Hersh hesitated, then said, “I should say he hated the customers. Never smiled. When he did, it was that weird smile I told you about. I think he scared the customers so Zeyde told him he could do the back work and leave the counter to him and me. That seemed to be a good arrangement. Hersh used to love gutting the fish. Sometimes he’d do it while they were still alive. I hated when he did that. Tsaar baalei chayim—you know. Cruelty to animals is a terrible aveyrah. I used to tell him to kill the fish first, just slit the gills. But he wouldn’t do that. Sometimes he’d step on their heads or slice them off. It was strange.”

“How’d you get along with him?”

“We were on speaking terms if that’s what you mean,” Hersh said. “But we kept our distance just the same. He was a very weird kid. But not so hard to understand if you know about the family.”

No, Decker said, not so hard to understand at all.

Big Hersh’s cousins lived on Guthrie Drive—the poshest street in suburban Beverlywood. Decker spoke to a Dr. Sam Beiderman—a cardiologist—who knew about his cousin Hersh Schaltz from Brooklyn but had never met him and wouldn’t know him if he looked him in the eye. Dr. Beiderman said he’d contact him immediately if Hersh called. Decker thanked him for his time, disappointed by the lack of progress but not surprised.

After the conversation with Big Hersh, Decker felt even dirtier than when he had been with the homeless. He took a long shower, then phoned the boys in New York. It felt wonderful to talk with them even though Sammy spent most of the time complaining. Then, in a burst of insight rare for a twelve-year-old, Sammy said he knew that Decker was working. That this wasn’t the vacation he wanted either.

Decker said it wasn’t a vacation, but he could understand the boy’s frustration. He was frustrated, too. In less than a week, they’d all be together again. He promised to make up for lost time and asked the boys what they would like to do.

They both wanted to build a rocket with him. Decker said, first thing when they all came home, he’d take them to the hobby shop and they’d get the biggest, most complete rocket kit ever.

He finished the conversation just as the doorbell rang. Rina answered, greeting his daughter as if she were her best friend. Cindy returned the salutation by giving Rina a hug and breaking into giggles. Decker could hear Cindy’s laughter, hear her chatter coming from outside.