The Outsider Read Free Page A

newlyweds rode off in the small work of art, Lucy driving and David observing her carefully.
    â€œDoesn’t look too hard,” he said.
    â€œNo, once you get the shifting sorted out and you’re able to relax. Where to?”
    â€œLet’s look at our destiny, as long as we have wheels.”
    â€œLeighton Ridge?”
    â€œRight. Do you know how to get there?”
    â€œDavid,” Lucy said, “I haven’t the vaguest notion. I thought you weren’t due there for another three days.”
    â€œIt won’t hurt to see what we’re getting into.”
    â€œIt may just mean losing a brand-new wife,” Lucy said, “but if that’s what you want and you’re ready to risk it, we’ll stop at a gas station and pick up a map of Connecticut.”
    They drove through the Bronx to the Hutchinson River Parkway, following it until it became the Merritt Parkway, and then turned north at the Black Rock Turnpike. They drove past a beautiful reservoir, miles along the reservoir’s edge, and then the road climbed to the backbone of the Connecticut Ridge. It was lovely country, at its best now in the new spring, farms and spreading lawns and white Colonial houses. Finally, a small roadside sign told them that they were entering Leighton Ridge, and a few miles farther on, they were at the small common, which was surrounded by an old white Congregational church and three white clapboard houses, each with a center chimney to validate its antiquity.
    â€œWhat a strange and lonely place,” Lucy whispered. “We’re a thousand miles from anywhere.”
    David was thinking differently, looking at a place as calmly beautiful as any he had ever seen, a village lost in time, clinging to a past that was gone forever, but clinging gently and without rancor. His conscience troubled him, this appeared to be such secure, safe harbor; but he felt that through the war years he had paid his entry fee to a secure, safe harbor, at least for a while, at least for long enough to work off dues paid. Yet —
    â€œI don’t have to take it,” he said to Lucy, trying to sound light and indifferent. “Something else is bound to come along in the city, and Rabbi Belsen will understand.”
    â€œOh, no, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m not backing out of it.”
    â€œYou’re sure?”
    â€œOf course I’m sure, David. You know how it is — where thou goest, I goest. I love the city, but that’s where I’ve lived all my life. You have to give me time. This is a very new scene.”
    â€œAll the time in the world.”
    She drove slowly through the township along winding roads, most of them unpaved except for oiled dirt. They parked for a few minutes in front of an apple orchard in blossom. The trees were perfumed balls of snow-white blossoms, a soft rain of petals dropping to the ground whenever a breeze touched them.
    â€œDo you know where any of your congregation live?” Lucy asked him. “We might drop in on one of these strange Jews who live in a place like this.”
    He shook his head. He didn’t like the notion of dropping in. Before the war, like Lucy, he had been a city boy.
    They were staying with Lucy’s parents at that time, sleeping in Lucy’s old bedroom. The day after they had driven up to Leighton Ridge, they had a telephone call from Jack Osner, the president of the congregation.
    â€œRabbi Hartman?” he asked, his deep, aggressive voice placing him in an immediate adversary position.
    David resisted the impulse to say “Yo!” After all, it had been Colonel Jack Osner. He contained himself and said, “Yes, this is Rabbi Hartman.”
    â€œGlad to talk to you, Rabbi. I understand everything has been cleared at the Institute and you’re ready to put your head in the lion’s mouth.”
    â€œWell, I wouldn’t think of it precisely in those terms.”
    â€œNo, of