Pompanoosuc Mills, vast and airy, filled with handcrafted Shaker furniture—or rather the kind of furniture Shakers would have built if they had softened on celibacy and simplicity and fashioned bunk beds and glass-fronted china cabinets.
Sorel followed him to the back of the store where they admitted to the saleswoman that they were just looking, that they would indeed let her know if they had any questions about woods or pricing, and settled down together, pulling up two spindle-backed chairs to a cherry dining-room table.
Orion said, “Jonathan’s got a new plan.”
“He needs one.”
“Just listen!” Orion watched her face as he told her. He watched the way she sucked her lower lip, appreciating the new scheme immediately, savoring the news.
“You must be joking!”
“Wait. There’s more. I’m going to be the team leader of the Fast-Track group.”
“What’s wrong with me?” He was a little offended. “Don’t you think I can?”
“Of course you can. I just wonder why Jonathan likes you now.”
“I think … it’s just … we go way back,” Orion struggled to explain. “I think when you go that far back with someone, the friendship never disappears completely, and sometimes, eventually, the relationship regenerates.”
“Like a starfish growing a new arm,” said Sorel.
“Don’t you think sometimes it works that way?”
“I don’t trust him, I’m afraid.”
“You don’t know him as well as I do,” said Orion.
“That’s why I’m in a better position to judge.”
“You’re a cynic,” he said.
“Probably.”
“I think with some people you have shared a history, and it’s very deep.”
“He says one kind word. You turn to mush.”
“Kind word? He’s giving me this huge new project.”
“The project sounds brilliant—if you can pull it off.” Sorel tilted her chair back. “I’m afraid he’s setting you up.”
“No,” Orion said. “He wouldn’t do that. This new group is real, and he wants me to run it. He’s finally found a way to use me.”
“That’s just it.”
“Sorel!” He turned on her in exasperation.
“Sorry.”
“You would make a good spy,” he said.
“Why?”
“You don’t trust anybody. You wear black overcoats. You admit you like disguises.”
“I don’t disguise myself from you.”
“No?” He turned toward her, and captured her hand in his. “Then why is your phone number unlisted?”
“Why did you try to find my phone number?” she asked, puzzled. “I only use my cell.”
“And why do you disappear all the time?”
“What do you mean, ‘disappear’?”
“You don’t show up, and I have no idea where you are.”
“I don’t have to tell you where I am. I’m touring!”
“Where are you touring? Davis Square?”
“I have a career.”
“You mean The Chloroforms? That’s your career?”
“You don’t think programming is my career, do you? I came here to be a performance artist and study physics. You don’t think I’m going to start rallying round ISIS and all that.”
“I’m sure you were perfectly happy with ISIS when you sold your stock,” Orion said, thinking of Sorel’s little house.
“Look, I’m the consistent one,” said Sorel. “I’ve always said ISIS is my day job. You’re the one obsessed with Jonathan. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. You’re always looking for affection, even when the relationship is frayed. Even when it’s broken.”
“Let’s leave Molly out of this,” said Orion.
“You always do.” Sorel pushed her chair back from the table. “ISIS is a case in point. So is Jonathan. You’re loyal to everybody. It’s a shame, really, that I’m …”
“That you’re what?” Orion asked.
“So fond of you.”
22
What is Oneness?
Every particle in the universe desires to be One.
• raindrop
• spark
• soul
“It is amazing to think,” Rabbi Helfgott told the group of close to thirty Tree Savers, “that all through the world, every
No one spoke. Some Tree Savers listened closely from where they sat on chairs and couches; others fidgeted, bemused, on the floor, and the rabbi watched them and gazed upon the Jewish faces among them— Jessamine Bach, Noah Levine—as he moved on to the next slide.
“In our tradition, this is the magic formula,” the rabbi said. “This is the answer.”
Jess considered the rabbi’s three-part solution for reengagement with the eternal. “Does this cover everything a soul can possibly do?”
“Yes!” declared Rabbi Helfgott. “For sure. Yes!”
“What about civil disobedience?” Leon asked.
Now everyone was listening. “That would depend on various factors,” the rabbi said diplomatically. “Peaceful or violent? Legal or illegal? Safe or dangerous?”
The Tree Savers hemmed and hummed, debating among themselves, and Daisy said, “I think if you see people interfering with the Oneness of the world, you have to stop them.”
“But that’s the question,” said Jess. “Is stopping them actually some kind of charity? Or prayer? Or does civil disobedience come under the category of repentance? And is it only quiet, peaceful protests that count? Or social justice by any means necessary?”
“Who’s more Jewish?” Noah asked. “Mahatma Gandhi? Or Malcolm X?”
In his younger days, Rabbi Helfgott might have felt the discussion slipping away, but he had lived and
