“It’s uncouth.”

Rina smiled. “It’s déclassé, I agree, but what the heck. They’re paying for the food, they might as well eat it.”

“Eating it is one thing. You can eat all you want on the premises. But filling your purses with fruit and rolls and pats of butter—”

Rina began to laugh. “We only saw one lady who did that.”

“Then she put a carton of yogurt…” Decker smiled. “That was just out of line.”

They both started laughing. Decker finally said, “Thanks for coming.”

“It’s my pleasure. I know you’re going to be working the whole time, but I do hope you get a little chance to at least…soak up some atmosphere.”

Atmosphere, he thought. Then he said, “It’s weird. I feel like I’m in a foreign country. But I don’t feel I’m in a religious foreign country. Nothing Jewish except the Hebrew.”

Rina said, “If you get a chance to see the Bursa, you’ll realize it’s a Jewish country. From what I hear, it’s replete with Chasidic Jews.”

“There were lots of Chasidic Jews in the LA diamond mart, too.” He bit his mustache. “Maybe I’m not explaining myself right. This just doesn’t feel that much different from a working-class area in LA.”

“Wait until you get to Jerusalem. Then tell me if you feel the same way.”

Decker drove a few more blocks, following Rina’s directions. The area seemed to have turned nicer. The apartment buildings weren’t necessarily newer, but they seemed more solidly built. They were fashioned from ocher-colored limestone, held bigger windows, and had patios landscaped with potted trees and flowers. The main road was wide and divided, and had visible street signs. Directions to various cities were posted at the main intersecions.

“Where are we now?”

“Ramat Aviv.”

“It’s a wealthier area.”

“You can tell.”

“I’m learning. Are we near the Yaloms’ address?”

“Not too far.”

They passed a complex of big buildings floating in seas of emerald green lawn. Across from the buildings was a series of parking lots.

“University?” Decker asked.

“Museums.”

“Ahhhh. Are the museums good?”

“The Museum of the Diaspora is outstanding.”

“Is that where the Dead Sea Scrolls are?”

“No, that’s in Jerusalem. At the Shrine of the Book. You have an interest in biblical archaeology?”

“Just a curiosity. Too bad I won’t see any of it.”

Rina looked at him. He wasn’t being flip, he was disappointed. She took his hand and kissed it. “Next time. Under better circumstances.”

Decker heard himself answer with an amen.

26

A house of sadness. Black cloth had been draped over the mirrors, the paintings, and the TV. The cushions from the sofa had been removed, exposing the couch’s gauzy underlining. Decker knew that with the cushions gone, the sofa was permitted to be used as seating for the Jewish mourners.