The Masada Complex

He lowered his legs to the floor. “I think I need to go.”

“Go where? It’s nighttime.”

“Pee-pee.”

“Oh!” She held his elbow and guided him to the bathroom.

Raul pulled down his pajama pants and sat on the toilet. “You can close the door.”

She stood outside the door and listened as he did his business noisily.

“I’m better now,” he said.

“Good.”

“Are you better?”

“I’m fine.”

The boy was silent for a moment. “Why did you cry?”

“I wasn’t crying.”

He passed gas. “Sorry.”

Masada lowered herself to the floor, sitting with her back to the wall next to the bathroom door. “I’m just very tired. It’s been a rough week.”

“Dad says it’s good to cry.”

“How come?”

He gassed again. “Sorry.”

Despite herself, she laughed.

“It’s like, when your belly hurts? So if you let the stinky air out, then you feel better? Same when you have pain in your feelings. If you cry, the pain goes out with the tears.”

“Your dad said that?”

“Kind of.” Raul hesitated. “Dad said that if you cry it means you are brave enough to feel your feelings.” He flushed the toilet and washed his hands. Then there was silence.

“You can come out,” Masada said. “I’m not brave enough yet.”

The ringing alarm woke Elizabeth up. She rolled off the sofa onto the carpet. Smoke was everywhere. She crawled toward the door, certain that the building was on fire.

The putrid odor made her pause. It didn’t smell like a fire.

In the kitchen, the pot of stew was emitting white smoke. She snatched it from the stovetop, crossed the living room to the balcony, and put it outside. Then she opened all the windows and turned off the smoke alarm.

A glance at the time shocked her. She had slept for more than two hours. Had David rung the bell while she slept? Impossible! She would have heard it!

A sense of doom flooded her. David had an accident! She tried his mobile. No answer. She grabbed her car keys and ran.

Indian School Road was deserted, its six lanes dimly lit by store signs and street lamps. She pushed the old Camry as fast as it would go. In Arcadia, a family neighborhood of citrus trees and large lawns, she turned left, racing up Fifty-fifth Street.

The curb at David’s house was lined with cars. The windows were alight. People stood on the front lawn, chatting.

She entered a cozy foyer. Country music played loudly. She saw her reflection in a full-body mirror. The knitted red dress clung to her, the cleavage deep. She had never stepped out of her apartment in this dress.

“Ellie!” David came toward her, touching the wall for support. He gulped down a glass of urine-colored liquid. “You look hot, boobs!”

She took the glass from his hand, pushed him into a den off the foyer, and closed the door.

“What’s this smell?” He sniffed her. “Phew!”

“It’s our dinner.” She wanted to hit him. “I fell asleep and it burned.”

“Oops.” He collapsed into a chair. “I completely forgot. Anyway, it’s a great party. Go mingle!”

“I was expecting to mingle with you.” She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. It was time he took responsibility. And the drinking would have to stop-she would make sure of that. “And share some wonderful news.”

“That’s nice,” he said cautiously, as if expecting something bad. “What news?”

She smiled, trying to cheer up the occasion. “A miracle happened to me. To us. You see, we are exp-”

“Daddy?” A blonde girl in pink pajamas appeared in the door.

“Hey, princess!” David swept her in his arms. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

The girl crinkled her nose. “It’s too noisy.”

He kissed her. “You just want to have fun with the grownups.”

A big smile appeared on the girl’s face. “With you!”

He swiveled around, making his daughter yelp and giggle. She let him do as he pleased without fear-the total trust a little girl could only place in one man in the whole world. It put Elizabeth’s skin on fire. Her own father used to dance with her, hug and tickle her, throw her up in the air. She turned away, the sight of them together unbearable.

“Samantha?” David’s wife entered, holding a glass. She noticed Elizabeth. “Miss McPherson. What a surprise.”

“Mommy, I want to stay.” The girl clung to David. “I’m not tired.”

The likeness of daughter to mother was striking-the light complexion, skinny frame, and storybook features.

David handed his daughter to his wife. Elizabeth saw their eyes meet and knew instantly that they shared a bond of a type she would never enjoy with David.

He closed the door behind them and tried to smile. “What a crazy day.”

“Your wife seemed hostile.”

He went to the desk and sat on the edge. “Someone called earlier and told her we’re having an affair. I denied it, of course, but she’s suspicious. We’ll have to lay low for a while.”

Elizabeth went over and took his hand. “She’s the mother of your daughter. You have feelings for her. I understand. But that’s exactly why you should tell her the truth about us.”

He pulled away, crossing the room to the opposite wall. “I can’t do that. Not now.”

“Why?”

He avoided her eyes. “A scandal would ruin both of us. We’ll lose our jobs.”

“I’m willing to lose my job for a life with you.”

He didn’t answer, which was worse than a slap on the face. Elizabeth wanted to smack his beautiful lips, kiss him, punch him, fall on the floor, and cry. Instead she pulled back her shoulders, stuck out her chest, and walked to the door. “You’re not the man I thought.”

“Ellie-”

She went to her car, blinded by tears.

David caught up with her, a paper tissue in hand. Always the gentleman.

She got into the car.

“You said something about news?”

Elizabeth wiped her eyes. “It’s not important anymore.”

Thursday, August 7

Professor Silver and Al Zonshine watched the rabbi’s house for the first half of the night. Rabbi Josh returned late, but Masada didn’t leave. After some time, the lights turned off. The obvious implication, that Masada and the rabbi had gone to bed together, sent Al on a verbal rampage, but Silver calmed him down with a reminder that the lovers’ time together would be short.