Naomi 5

My phone rings, it's Ariel from work, "ah Naomi, I know we're on vacation for a few days more, but it's serious. Can you make a meeting today at two?"
We're seated, coffee poured. Ariel starts uneasily, "we're all equals here, no chairperson, one item on the agenda, Professor Cohen."
Moshe gives a wicked laugh, "as we were all away, pretending to be Reservists, our fearless leader, age exempt, got into trouble."
I ask, "how so?"
They all laugh.
Moshe continues, "that's right, I'd forgotten, you aren't into newspapers. He committed unspeakable acts down at the Bus Station, held til bail hearing."
I ask, "what sort of acts and when is the hearing?"
Avraham blushes, "let's just say the first question is not suitable for mixed company. A week after term starts is the hearing."
I ask, "what odds he gets out?"
Moshe grins, "actually pretty good. He is 72, partially suffering from Alzheimer's. That'll be taken into account."
"But then," I protest, "surely he will be forced into retirement, moral turpitude and all that."
Dry tone, Avraham says, "with pay scales here, compared to elsewhere, they would not care if he were a convicted ax murderer of his own mother, guarded by a prison guard as he delivers the lecture."
Everyone laughs.
Ariel puts on a serious expression, "two eventualities, either a week of absence or a whole term. If it's a week, no big deal. If all term, start by thinking his work divides into four approximately equal parts. Paperwork, all those stupid forms to keep the jackasses over in Admin from getting into convulsions."
We all laugh.
"Then his three classes, Chaucer, American Science Fiction and Hebrew Sci Fi," draws a breath, "any takers for Admin work?"
No replies.
Ariel sighs, rolls his eyes, "I could handle the paper then, have helped out my uncle in his accounting firm some."
Moshe grimaces, "my English is poor, leaves me stuck with Hebrew Sci Fi."
Avraham turns to me, "any preferences, Naomi?"
I grin wanly, "any Sci Fi, of any nationality, is Count Dreckula. Ditto for Chaucer. I'd equally hate either. Be my guest, you choose."
Avraham laughs easily, "I feel exactly the same. Leave it to Fate, flip a coin."
It comes up heads, meaning I get Chaucer.
We ransack Prof Cohen's office, seeking notes. It's easier than we thought. Every course, is laid out word for word, with stage directions in brackets.
"Good morning, class," I start cheerfully, "I will be the replacement for a while. First thing we must know about Chaucer is his day and age had no package deals, no safe tourist enclaves. Travel was undertaken in groups, for safety against highwaymen. You must understand, religious pilgrimages were the only game in town. If you had sufficient health and funds to travel, they were your only option."
I pause, let it sink in, "and that is the critical difference. A religious pilgrim nowadays is, by definition, a true believer. In those days, it would be a mix of strong believers and ordinary tourists. I ask you to keep this thought in mind when you are tempted to be too judgmental towards those pilgrims."
Looks of comprehension.
It is with great joy that I see Prof Cohen return. The judge threw out the charge, lousy writeup.
He smiles gently, "Naomi, did you be sure to emphasize the concept of cultural difference in the first lecture?"
"Oh yes, they understood."
"Good, thank you so much for covering."
He is a gentleman, takes us all to a nice dinner as a thank you for the coverup.
As I wait I check the news on my cell.
Agricultural workers are on strike, following a foreman addressing one as a "fruit". He maintains he said "fruitcake", but a nearby sound killed the second syllable.
In order to stave off bankruptcy, a yeshiva has launched a porn site.
The American Foreign Minister again committed a foot-in-mouth. When asked about US policy on the West Bank, he stated the US government endorses almost any leveraged buyout in the banking sector.
"Are you Sgt Wolner?" a middle-aged woman asks.
"Please, informality, call me Naomi."
"I'm Mrs Meyer, Ruth, I suppose you are wondering why I asked to see you."
"Not really," I reply easily, "knowing IDF stonewall tactics, I'd guess you are unsatisfied with the explanation they gave."
"Look Naomi," over earnest tone, "all they confided was the fact he was delivering documents in the jeep. No lead as to how it got started. But how does one tell four children that Daddy died because he was stupid enough to berate Haredim carrying stones?"
"Ruth best to tell the children one by one, there are things you could not tell the younger."
"I imagine it was the John charge, got him riled. But not that much, twice a year he had fines over stupidness. He'd have laughed that off. What else happened?"
I groan inwardly, but she seems genuine in her desire to know. "That evening he and a female Cpl hit it off, went for drinks. On returning, they caught in flagrantis a young man who had been posting threat notices. He and the Cpl beat the lad up, a yeshiva student."
"Excellent, keep going, I can manage to hear it all."
"Now this yeshiva student would not go to the police of course, he was guilty too. But he did get revenge. Next evening, as your husband and the Cpl left for drinks, they were accosted by a crowd of students, pelted with smelly objects. Very next morning, was when he over-reacted to the Haredim."
She sighs, "I really thank you for being honest. It would be so much nicer if I could tell the children he died heroically. But if I lie, years later they'll find out, hate me."
As she goes, I admire her courage.