“My father”—Decker paused, then clarified—“my adopted father, my real father, I should say, is a very gentle man. Gruff outside but a sweetheart inside. I’m anything but gentle. I wonder if my biological father had a nasty temper.”

The rav stood, his eyes pained by Decker’s question. He twirled the tip of his silver beard around his finger. “What’s really on your mind, Akiva?”

“I met an old friend of mine,” Decker said. “We served in Vietnam together. He brought back memories—of myself—I’d just as soon forget. But it wasn’t just him that made me aware of this. Once in a while, something will happen and I’ll just lose control. I get this murderous look in my eye. Happened just the other day with Rina.” Decker blushed. “You knew Rina had been in town, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Schulman said. “We had several nice long talks.”

The old man had to know they were sleeping together, but Decker couldn’t read it in his face.

“I owe you a mazel tov, Akiva,” Schulman said.

“Thank you,” Decker said. “I’ve been waiting a long time for her to say yes.” He cleared his throat. “I want to be a good husband to her, a good father to her boys. I want…I don’t want them to be afraid of me. But sometimes it’s as if I’m possessed. Something just takes control of me.”

“Yetzer Harah,” Rav Schulman said.

Decker considered his answer. The Yetzer Harah—the evil inclination. As good a description as any. He said, “It’s not lust or gluttony or greed. It’s just plain evil. Desire to destroy. What the he—what’s wrong with me?”

“What do you do when your Yetzer Harah is strong in you?” Schulman asked.

“I usually manage to hold it in until I get off work,” Decker said. “I work out the horse—too vigorously. I take potshots at my barn. If someone’s around, I’ll scream at them. Once, I kicked my dog. Funny thing is, these rages aren’t necessarily brought on by anything big. It’s just a feeling that overwhelms me.”

“You seem to be controlling yourself pretty well,” Schulman said. “Though we should be kind to animals of course. Tzar ba’alei chaim.”

“The only trouble is, now I live alone, and no one except maybe the dog and my horses know about my temper.” Decker faced the old man. “But that will change. Rina saw me lose control once. I don’t want her to see it again.”

“Well,” Schulman said, “it’s nice to be able to be perfect, but we all lose our tempers—”

“But—”

“Wait,” Schulman said holding an upright hand.

“Sorry.”