“Wait a minute, Tom. Jack? Is it you?”
The guard recognized the suited man and immediately let go of Jack.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Deniksen. Do you know this gentleman?”
“Ben? Ben Deniksen?” Jack looked at him disbelievingly. Then he clasped him in an affectionate hug. When they separated, he looked at the man with surprise. It really was old Ben Deniksen, a close family friend he hadn’t seen for ten years. His hair had grayed, but he wore the same sideburns and bushy mustache. Ben worked as Gabriel’s accountant.
“Jack, little Jack . . .” A smile spread across his face. “God! I barely recognized you! You’re a head taller than me, and you were still in shorts last time I saw you,” he exaggerated. “What’re you doing in New York? I thought you were in Michigan. I haven’t seen your father for some time. You know . . . things aren’t the same with him.” He screwed up his face. “Anyway, what brings you to the Rockefeller?”
“Well, I came to—” He broke off for a moment. “I wanted to speak to my uncle Gabriel.”
Benjamin frowned in disbelief. “Whoa, Jack.” He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t really care whether it’s a good idea or not, Ben. I need to speak to him.”
Benjamin could see the desperation on his face. “All right. Come with me. I’ll see what I can do.”
Jack followed Benjamin down the long corridor. Finally, they reached another lobby containing four elevators. They took the first. Jack had never been in such a modern contraption. The elevator traveled at an incredible speed and eventually stopped on the forty-fourth floor. Benjamin told him to wait at the secretary’s desk and disappeared through a door, over which a bronze plaque announced:
SCHWALBERT & ASSOCIATES
GABRIEL BEILIS, CHIEF EXECUTIVE
While he waited, Jack wondered whether coming to Rockefeller Center had been a good idea, but he had no choice if he wished to protect his father. The door suddenly burst open, and Benjamin, with a cautious expression, invited him to go in. Jack straightened his raincoat and smoothed his hair back with his hand. Despite his height and piercing blue eyes, he had quickly learned that, without money, a man’s looks dissipated like a puff of smoke on a blustery day.
Inside the office, sitting on an easy chair upholstered in sumptuous red velvet, a man with white hair at the temples and pronounced wrinkles was perusing the report that lay on his desk. Jack stood in silence beside Benjamin until the accountant coughed, causing Gabriel Beilis to look up from the report. The man observed Jack.
“All right, Ben. You can leave us now.”
Benjamin obeyed.
Alone facing his uncle, Jack took a deep breath. Gabriel Beilis stood, revealing an impeccable dark suit that looked newly bought. He had aged, but he still had the eyes of a wolf. The two of them remained silent long enough for Jack to feel uncomfortable. In the end, it was the young man who broke the silence.
“It’s been a while . . . ,” he began as he held out his hand. Gabriel didn’t take it. Instead, he went to the window and looked defiantly out at the sky.
“Come, take a look,” he said in a tone that made every syllable an order. “See that there? Central Park, once the green pride of New York, now a vagrant-infested pigsty. Twenty years ago, you could take a pleasant stroll there with your children. Now, those creatures would strip you to the bones.” He shook his head in a gesture of disapproval. “So,” he said, finally turning to his nephew, “tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
Jack swallowed. He wasn’t sure where to begin, or how to express the extent of his desperation. In the end, he just blurted it out.
“They’re going to evict us.”
The man stood looking at him without replying. He opened a box of cigars, lit one, and took a long pull, savoring its flavor.
“That’s it?” He wandered around the office. “After ten years, you show up here and have the nerve to say to me, ‘Uncle Gabriel, they’re going to throw us out onto the street.’ Not even an apology. Nothing.” He took another puff on the cigar. “Tell me something, Jacob, or Jack, as you call yourself now. What am I supposed to say in reply to that? Pretend nothing happened? Put aside my anger and help? I don’t even understand how your father could’ve sent you here.”
Jack was unsure how to respond. He still couldn’t grasp why his uncle blamed him for the accident that Walter had caused.
“My father doesn’t know I’m here. If he’d known I was coming, he would’ve stopped me.”
“So why go against his wishes?”
“I told you. We have nowhere to go.”
“I see. Well, evictions are common these days. Life’s tough. For you, for Solomon, for everybody.”
Jack contemplated the luxury that surrounded him. “Tougher for some than others.” Until that day, he had underestimated the progress that his uncle had made.
“True. For instance, you can still walk, and my poor son can’t.”
Jack moved closer to the man who seemed to be taking such pleasure in his misfortune.
“Forget about me and think of Solomon. Your brother needs you, sir.”
“That man’s not my brother!” he yelled. “For God’s sake, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you!”
“Please, Uncle. You’re flesh and blood, and our religion obliges us to—”
“What? You dare to come here and talk to me about religion?” He turned around, fixing his eyes on Jack. “You, Jacob, who calls himself Jack because he’s ashamed of his Jewish roots? You who ate whatever he pleased and never observed the Sabbath? No, Jacob. If you’d cared about your religion, you’d have learned that a Jew never attacks another Jew.”
“I was only trying to separate them,” Jack said in his defense. “I wasn’t the one who pushed him. In fact, it was you who ignored Prohibition and turned up at the party with barrels of punch.”
Gabriel snorted. He adjusted his jacket and took a long pull on his cigar. Then he went to his desk, opened a drawer, took out two tickets, and held them out to Jack. “Here. They’re for the new show at the Radio City Music Hall. Have a great time. It’s all I can do for you.”
If Jack didn’t throw the tickets in his uncle’s face at that moment, it was only because his powerlessness was stronger than his anger. He took the tickets, said good-bye, and left the office in despair. He was about to take the elevator, when his uncle’s accountant called to him.
“Jack. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing.” He looked down, unable to hold Jack’s gaze.
“Don’t worry, Benjamin. It was my fault, really. It was absurd to think that my uncle—”
“He’s a very strict man. He works day and night, and he has suffered a great deal with his son,” he said in an attempt to excuse Gabriel. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I know. Well, thanks anyway. It’s been great to see you again. Are you all well?”