Rent Soundtrack
I checked the voice mail when we got home more out of habit than expectation of a message. The automated voice told me there was one. One, I snorted, and punched the sequence of numbers for the automated voice to tell me the call had come in at 2:30. Instinctively, I checked the clock 4:30. No wonder I was tired.
I cringed as I recognized the voice of the message: the rabbi. His tone was chastising and he was one of the few people who called me by my full name that I hated.
“S--? Why didn’t you call me? I heard your mother died this morning and I didn’t find out until 2, this afternoon. You should have called. Anyway, I’m calling because I want you to give me a ride to the funeral tomorrow. Call me and let me know what time you’ll pick me and my wife up.” He rattled off a number and hung up.
For the first time that day, I burst into tears as M. blinked confused.
“I can’t do that.” I gasped, after haltingly explaining the call. “I hate him. I get car sick if I ride in the back. It’s a two hour ride, from here, and another hour to get him.” I was nearly hyperventaling. “ I can’t make a 90 year old man sit in the back, or his wife. And there’s only one seat in the front.” I was now leaned over, with my head between my knees. “I can’t do that. Not at her funeral… I can’t.”
M. tried to be comforting.
“Just tell him no.”
“I can’t!”
“Tell him the car is full.”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“He’s a rabbi, that’s like lying to a priest. You can’t do that.”
“Then we’ll take him.”
“I can’t.”
The conversation circled in this futile way for several minutes until I caught my breath and was just sniveling. Ultimately it was decided that a white lie was in order. I would tell the rabbi that we were going that night and staying over to take care of business. Not a total lie, not taking him would take care of some business: my sanity.
As it turned out, it was unnecessary. By the time I called him back, he had arranged for another ride since I had not gotten back to him soon enough.
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