It was not kind—and it was probably not wise, either—but Yehuda Leib was in no mood to give Issur Frumkin a free pass. Rooting in his pocket for something to eat, he shifted his body into the doorframe to block Issur’s way.

“Hey,” said Issur, mounting the front stairs. “Move.”

Yehuda Leib did not react, keeping his eyes low beneath the brim of his cap, chewing assiduously on a hard rind of cheese.

“Hey! Yehuda Leib!” said Issur. “I know you can hear me. Move, you idiot.”

At this, Yehuda Leib sighed and scooted himself over, but rather than clearing the doorframe, he moved farther in, taking up as much space as he possibly could.

“Oh,” said Issur. “Think you’re funny?”

Now Yehuda Leib looked up and smiled through a mouthful of cheese.

“You’re disgusting,” said Issur. “Get out of my way.”

Again, Yehuda Leib did not budge.

“Some of us have important things to do,” said Issur. “Why don’t you stand up and move, you little bastard?”

It is entirely possible that Issur was not aware that, coming from him of all people—on this morning of all mornings—that word would scorch Yehuda Leib’s guts with its injustice. It is, in fact, likely that Issur Frumkin had no idea what he was getting himself into.

But none of this made the slightest bit of difference to Yehuda Leib.

Calmly, he stood. Tossing aside the stripped rind of cheese, he stepped out of the doorframe, and as he passed Issur by, he swatted at the brim of Moshe Dovid’s fine new hat, sending it flying up and out into the street, where he trod on it hard, crushing it deep into the mud.

Issur stood quivering on the study-hall stairs above.

Yehuda Leib turned and smiled.

“There,” he said. “How’s that?”

And this is how the fight began.

—

The house of Reb Zalman the baker was on the forest side of Tupik. Coming in from Zubinsk, you had to pass through the little cemetery on the hillside to reach it, and if you didn’t take care to lose sight of the clutch of leaning headstones before turning to the baker’s door, you might have had the uncanny feeling that you carried some residue of the graveyard inside with you.

For this reason as well as others, the baker made sure to leave a cup and basin for hand washing by the door.