Why Aren't You Smiling? (19 page)

“And if Caesar asks for your body? If Caesar asks you to make war? Go to Vietnam?”

Ferguson was caught off-guard. “Of course, you go. Communism is a Godless system. Evil. In Vietnam, we are fighting pure Evil.”

Jonas, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, called out, “But Christ said, ‘Resist not evil.' Shouldn't we turn the other cheek? Shouldn't we Love the Communists?” It wasn't a rhetorical question. Jonas was desperate to avoid another demonic manifestation and took Christian moral imperatives very seriously.

Ferguson nearly shouted, “I was in Korea! The battle of Pork Chop Hill! You think I don't know what war is? The horror? But if we surrender to World Communism, the Word of God will be lost to man forever! We're not in Vietnam out of bloodlust, we're fighting for freedom, for our souls! We're waging this war for the Love of God!”

Gasps swept through the crowd, followed by seditious murmurs. The shepherd was losing his flock. Rick let the outrage build for a few seconds then delivered his line with cool aplomb. “Brother Ferguson, war is not Love.” He calmly walked out of Christ's Crash Pad enveloped in a pink cloud of sanctimony. He didn't realize till he was on the street, wondering which way to turn, that he had four disciples following at his heels.

Now calling themselves ‘The Forever Family', Rick, Jonas, Beth, Susan, and Bob stood on the corner making joyful noise. While Jonas strummed his guitar, Susan shook a tambourine, and all of them, except Bob, who couldn't carry a note, sang. “Michael row your boat ashore…” Bob, holding an upturned hat of shapeless black felt in his outstretched hand, solicited donations from passersby. “C'mon folks! Join the Tentless Tent Revival! Put down your gun, put down your sword, raise your voice in praise of the Lord! Poor folks, rich folks, circus folks, atheists, monkeys, and beatniks, all are welcome!” The passersby, hippies and squares alike, gave the whole operation a wide berth. Eventually, the song ended.

“Are we on key?” Susan asked. “Nobody's stopping to listen.”

“They never do,” said Bob. “This is humiliating.”

“Almost never,” Beth corrected. “Remember that lady with the cane? She said she really liked us. She said ‘God bless you,' too. Don't you remember?”

Bob scooped a few nickels, dimes, and quarters from the hat, and examined them. “Less than a dollar. How long have we been out here?” Nobody responded. “Who's got a watch?” Nobody did.

Jonas slung his guitar on his back. “It's been at least two hours. I'm done.”

“It's either not the right corner or not the right day or something,” agreed Rick.

“I'm not sure there are any right days for Tentless Tent Revivals,” Bob said glumly.

“Maybe if you didn't come on so strong with the money pitch,” suggested Jonas.

“Fine by me.” Bob set the hat down in front of the singers and leaned against the wall of a nearby storefront. “Have at it.” He lit a cigarette and watched ruefully as the rest sang, “Spirit in The Sky,” a popular and possibly ironic rock tune extolling the virtues of faith. “Gonna recommend you to the spirit in the sky, that's where you're gonna go when you die. When you die and they lay you to rest, you're gonna go to the place that's the best!” The public remained unresponsive.

“OK, let's go home,” Rick concluded. “We gave it our best shot.”

Susan, who'd come up with the idea for Tentless Tent Revivals, looked teary-eyed. “We can't save souls if we don't reach out.”

Rick squinted as he looked up and down the street. “Tomorrow's Saturday, there'll be more people out. We'll try again.” He began trudging towards Jonas's apartment, the Forever Family's home base. The rest followed, a short parade of hung heads and dejected faces. Once home, Bob and Susan disappeared into the bedroom while Jonas, Beth, and Rick collapsed into a wordless sloth in the living room.

The doorbell rang.

“Don't answer!” Jonas said quickly. “Might be the landlord.”

A voice muffled its way through the door. “Yoo-hoo! Riiiick, it's your mother!”

Rick paled then, as if in a trance, rose and opened the door to reveal Esther Mandelbaum wearing a beautifully tailored green silk skirt suit and the slightly forced grin she usually reserved for company. Behind her stood Sol holding a grocery bag.

Esther gave Rick an awkward little hug. “You asked us to forward your mail, and we happened to be on our way to Aunt Sylvia's for Shabbos dinner so I said to myself, why not drop off Rick's letter in person and maybe bring him a few noshables?” She thrust an envelope from the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes into Rick's hand and stepped inside, her eyes drinking in the apartment with undisguised curiosity.

Sol followed. “As you can imagine, your mother has been dying to see where you live. I told her the civilized thing would be to call first, but…” He shrugged then caught sight of Jonas and Beth, the latter sitting in the lap of the former. “And who might we have here?”

Rick took the groceries from his father., and gestured at the couch “Mom, Dad, this is Jonas and Beth.” He shot them a disgusted look and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Ever so glad to make your acquaintance,” said Sol lightly, dropping into one of two empty chairs facing the couch.

Esther sat in the other chair. “We meet so few of Rick's friends. I do hope you won't mind us barging in. When a mother loses a son, even just to the other side of town, it can be a hard blow to the heart.” She illustrated by giving her chest two sharp raps with the flat of her hand.

Sol chuckled. “Mother love. Some day, they'll have a pill for it.”

Jonas sat up straight, causing Beth to slide off his lap. “Hello Mr. Mandelbaum. Mrs. Mandelbaum.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Beth in a bored, frosty voice.

Rick came back into the room. All the seats were occupied, but rather than sit on the floor as he normally would, he remained standing.

Sol looked around. “Not bad for a first apartment. You should've seen the place I wound up in when I left your Bubbe. Makes this look like a palace. Of course, apartments are smaller in Brooklyn.”

“I do wish you'd found something in a better part of town,” Esther lamented. “I know you want to be near all the excitement, but I do worry about muggers.”

“It's not so bad around here,” said Jonas.

“You live in the neighborhood, too?” Esther asked.

“This is my place,” Jonas explained. “My band-mates used to live here with me until Rick and the others moved in.”

“Others?” Esther sounded alarmed.

Rick tried to cover up. “He means me and Beth.”

Jonas realized his error and shot Rick an apologetic glance.

Esther turned to Beth. “And you are…”

Beth stammered, “I'm…” She saw Rick silently mouthing the words ‘Jonas's wife' but couldn't bring herself to go that far. …”Jonas's girlfriend.” That wasn't true either (except for Rick, the Forever Family played musical beds), but it was less of a lie.

Esther noted her son's obvious discomfort and produced a sly smile. “Rick likes to think I'm an old fuddy-duddy, but I think testing the waters before setting sail can be very sensible. In my day, we all jumped into marriage before we knew what we were doing, in some cases practically before we even knew our husbands, and now just look at all the divorces.” She shook her head sadly. “For mature individuals, living together before marriage can be a healthy option.”

“So, Jonas, what's your game?” asked Sol, trying to sound hip.

Jonas tried and failed to process this. “Game?”

“What do you do for work?”

“I was a musician, but now I'm sort of… freelance.”

“Getting anywhere with that?”

Jonas nervously folded his hands. “Oh, sure.”

“I brought Rick's favorite dish,” announced Esther. “Meatloaf à la Mandelbaum.” She turned to Beth. “You want to know the secret?”

Beth nodded politely.

“A pinch of horseradish and a little sauerkraut juice.”

Beth winced. “Really?”

“Adds tang.” Esther nodded vigorously for emphasis.

Jonas, once again, grew bewildered. “Tang?”

“She means like tanginess, not the stuff the astronauts drink,” explained Rick.

“And what do you do with yourself?” Esther asked Beth.

“I… mostly, you know, take care of things around the apartment and such.”

Esther leaned back into her seat. “Me, I was always a career girl. Of course, I took time off to raise the kids, but I enjoy working.”

Sol let out a chortle. “And I enjoy having a wife who brings home a paycheck from time to time. Women's Lib? I'm all for it!”

Esther winked conspiratorially at Beth. “Wait till the men find out we're taking over. Then we'll see who has the last laugh.”

“You want the rat race?” Sol waved his hand at her. “You can have it. Let us men to stay home and watch soap operas.”

“When, in the twenty-four years we've been married, have you ever seen me watch a soap opera?” Esther protested. “I detest them!”

“Fine,” Mr. Mandelbaum held up his hands. “I retract the remark.”

“We don't even have a TV,” said Beth.

“Oh, but you miss so much.” Esther was genuinely concerned. “Sure, a lot of it is silly, not that there's anything wrong with a little silliness, but there are educational programs, too. And the news.”

Sol heaved a sigh. “My wife is madly in love with Dick Cavett.”

“We met him at a dinner party once,” bragged Esther. “A lovely man. Just lovely.”

Rick clapped his hands as if he'd just thought of something. “Hey, Mom, Dad, look how dark it's getting. You better hit the road if you don't want to be late. There might be traffic. And you know how Aunt Sylvia gets if you're late.”

Sol sighed and heaved himself out of his chair. “If we're late for Shabbos dinner, it's like spitting in God's eye. Come on Esther. We'll visit again another day.” He turned to the young folk. “Cheerio!”

Esther rose and gave Jonas and Beth a nervous little wave. “Very pleased to meet the both of you.” As she turned to Rick, her eyes grew watery with emotion. “My big, grown man.” She cupped her son's face with her well-manicured hand and kissed his cheek, then followed her husband out the door.

Jonas turned to Rick, his eyes wide with wonder. “Wow, man. Your parents are a really freaky trip.”

Beth stood on the sofa, facing the rest of the Forever Family who were sprawled around the living room eating macaroni salad off paper plates. “OK? We've all been a little on edge lately 'cause we're all cooped up in this apartment.”

“With one bathroom,” interjected Susan, voicing her pet peeve.

Beth went on. “…And we barely bring in enough cash for food.”

Five people in a one-bedroom was ridiculous and the Family's income (earned from pot dealing, panhandling, and embarrassing parental handouts) was pathetic. Still, Rick bristled at the implied criticism of his leadership. “You don't go into preaching the Gospel to make money or lead a life of luxury.”

“Of course not,” said Beth. “But even apostolic poverty has its limits. And L.A. is nothing but hassles and bad vibes these days. The Tentless Tent Revivals are just not getting through to people.”

Bob shook his head mournfully. “We're less popular than the Hari fuckin' Krishnas!”

“Dark days, man, dark days,” Jonas agreed, looking around suspiciously. He thought he might have glimpsed the demon outside his window the other night.

Beth continued, “Well, it seems the Good Lord has cleared the way to another path for us. Some of you met my sister Marjorie last year… from Oregon? She phoned earlier today to say her divorce has gone through and she now owns her house outright. And get this, she's invited us to live with her! All of us! Her place isn't fancy, but it has three bedrooms and two bathrooms!”

“What do we do for bread?” asked Bob dubiously.

Beth sat on her knees and lowered her voice, as if she was sharing a secret. “OK, get this: there's a garden in back of her house where she grows all her own vegetables – which could easily be doubled or tripled in size 'cause it's surrounded by field – and she's got pot plants in there. Nobody notices 'cause she's on the edge of town so there're no next door neighbors.” She turned to Rick with a deferential lowering of her head. “What do you think? We could grow weed and spread the Word. I'm sure there are plenty of souls needing to be saved there, same as anywhere else. And Marjorie needs me. She's been through a really tough time.”

Bob chuckled. “Weed and Word, man. Weed and Word!”

“I have a green thumb,” said Susan. “When I was a kid, I grew pumpkins in the backyard.”

“Further we get away from here, the better,” Jonas agreed.

Rick rose to his feet, beaming, and delivered his verdict with a grave joyousness. “This move… was foretold.” He perched on the edge of the sofa, allowing himself to look down on everyone without actually looming as he dissembled. “I had a dream the other night. We were all driving north in Bob's VW van, and as we went, we were stopping along the way to spread the Word, spending time in all these crazy little towns and meeting all these groovy people.”

“Itinerant preachers,” confirmed Beth, echoing a term she'd heard somewhere just to insert herself into the revelation.

Rick went on. “In the dream, I didn't know where we were heading, just that it was out in the country somewhere.”

“Pastoral,” commented Beth.

Rick suppressed an urge to glare at her. “But it must have been to this place… to Marjorie's house. I was seeing our destiny. This was meant to be.”

“Wow,” said Susan, in the hushed tone of the awestruck. “A prophecy.”