Prayers for the Dead

Marge stood. “I understood your dilemma, Pete. But I felt Luke wouldn’t have opened up to me like he did to you. For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”

“The guy’s a jerk.”

Marge said, “Yeah, it was awful what he said to you.”

Decker shook his head. “I should have just shrugged it off without comment.”

“You’re human.”

Decker opened the door to his office. “Baby, ain’t that the truth.”

Rina placed the strap of her purse over her shoulder and locked the car, her heart beating hard in her chest. Because she had no idea what she was doing…what she would even say if given the chance to see him. As fate would have it, the situation took care of itself. She saw him bolting down the back stairs of the Van Nuys Substation. He started jogging through the parking lot away from the police complex. She had to sprint to catch up with him.

As soon as he saw her, Bram’s expression turned hard and furious. “Where’s your car?”

“Right over there.” Gasping, Rina pointed to her Volvo.

He grabbed her arm, pushed her forward.

“What are you doing?” Rina shook his arm off. “What’s the matter with-”

“Give me your keys-”

“What-”

“Don’t argue with me. Just do it!”

Rina flipped him the keys. She had to run to keep up with him. When he reached the Volvo, Bram opened the driver’s door, got in, and opened the passenger’s door from the inside. As soon as Rina was seated, Bram peeled rubber before she had the door fully closed.

“What is it?” Rina asked as she shut the door. “What happened?”

Instead of answering, Bram depressed the gas pedal. The car flew forward, the tires squealing as he turned onto Van Nuys.

Rina took a sharp intake of air. “You’re going to get a ticket-”

“So, you’ll fix it for me-”

“Bram, slow down!” she said. “You’re going to have an accident!”

Instead, he accelerated to overdrive, had to swerve to avoid hitting a stopped car.

“Stop it!” Rina screamed.

The car continued racing, Bram shooting one yellow light after another. The fourth traffic light was completely red as the Volvo entered the intersection. Bram depressed the accelerator to the max, narrowly missing side impact by a eighteen-wheeler semi. The blare of the truck’s horn ricocheted in Rina’s ears.

Rina pounded his shoulder. “Stop it! Stop it!”

Bram braked suddenly, pitching them both backward. Breathing hard, he brought the speedometer down to normal city limits.

Rina covered her face, cried softly, a sharp pain stabbing her body with each intake of breath. Recovering quickly, she immediately prayed her thanks to God and wiped away tears. She held her rib cage as she spoke. “You could have gotten both of us killed. Have you gone crazy?”

Bram whispered, “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

Rina said nothing. Signaling, he turned right, hooking onto the 405 North. Within minutes, the Volvo was going a smooth and safe fifty-five.

Rina finally managed to breathe without pain, her armpits damp with sweat. Some of her hair had fallen out of her scarf. She tucked it back in. Quietly, she asked, “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer, didn’t acknowledge her question.

She became quiet as well, too nervous to talk. Nothing to do except wait him out. As soon as he got off at Devonshire and headed west instead of east, she knew where he was headed. He wasn’t taking her home. He was driving toward McCoy Park.

Years since Rina had been there. It hadn’t changed at all. A time warp of yesteryear when land was still an available commodity. A velvety green lawn hugging the foothills, dotted with several picnic benches. In the distance were the outdoor te

He parked the Volvo, walked away from the car without a word. If she had had the keys, she would have driven home. Instead, she had no choice but to follow.

He turned to her, his face wan, his voice a shadow. “I am so sorry, Rina. I don’t know what…forgive me.”

She didn’t answer.

He ran his hand over his chin, surprised to find it roughened with stubble. “Are you all right?”

“I’m alive. It’s a good start.” She approached him tentatively. “Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not.” His eyes met hers. “What on God’s green earth were you thinking, showing up like that? The LAPD doesn’t have enough problems? You can’t do things like that, Rina. If you get dragged into this mess, you take your husband down at the same time.”

“I just wanted to talk…to help if I could-”

“You can’t.” He moved away from her, leaned against a giant budding sycamore and looked upward. “Go home, Rina. Just…go home.”

She came toward him. “Bram, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but what they’re saying is absurd. You’re no more capable of murder than I am.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re not…that way.”

“That way? You mean gay?”

“Why are you torturing me?”

He spun around, rage in his eyes. “Because you don’t know a damn thing about me. And you never did. Because if you had had even the tiniest clue, you would have never told me to go to Rome.”

Rina’s mouth dropped open; she was stu

“I would have moved mountains for you.” His eyes moistened. “All I wanted was some kind of…sign-”

“So why didn’t you ask for one?”

“Oh believe me, I asked in a thousand ways! You just never bothered to listen!”

His voice was seething with bitter fury. It was hard not to respond in kind. But Rina bit back her tongue. Because a harsh word delivered couldn’t ever be taken back.

There were so many different ways she could have answered his accusations. But what was the point? He was in trouble, he was hurting, and he was lashing out at her. Had she been a little less scared, a little less agitated, Rina knew she would have taken his anger for what it was-a backhanded compliment. He felt safe with her, secure enough to express himself. But she was too blinded by emotion.

Wiping wetness from her eyes, she said, “I did what I thought was right in the past. And I’m doing what I think is right in the present. If I am wrong now…like apparently I was wrong back then…then, I’ll kindly butt out!”

Softly, Bram said, “I think that’s a very good idea.”

They both stood in silence.

Rina said, “I need the keys to my car.”

“Oh.” Bram rummaged through his pockets, pulled out her keys. He was about to toss them to her. Instead, he walked over to the Volvo and opened the driver’s door. She sighed, dragged herself over, and scooted behind the wheel. She held out her hand and he dropped the keys into her open palm.

He whispered, “Next time you pray, ask Yitzy to forgive me for endangering your life.”

She glanced at his face, blinking back moisture from her eyes. “Did you have feelings for him, Abram?”

Bram stared at her, not believing his ears. “What?”

“I know you didn’t do anything.” She forced herself to look at him. “But did you have feelings for him?”

Bram’s face turned stony, his voice permeated with anger. “You can think whatever you want about me. I don’t care. But don’t you dare call yourself a religious woman. Yitzchak was my best friend. And a truly religious woman knows what real friendship is all about. For you to ask me such a question is reprehensible. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

He slammed the door and stomped off, leaving her alone with her thoughts, her fears, and her tears.