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conventional caution, the fear of offending those
    in authority in the state, bad so far prevailed. No change had been
    sanctioned. Now, Walter, one of the crusading trio, v, as dead.
    A resurgence of his grief swept over Nim. Earlier, he had held back
    tears. Now, in the privacy of the moving car, be let them come; twin
    rivulets coursed down his face. With anguish he wished be could do
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something for Walter, even an intangible act like praying. He tried to re-
    call the Mourner's Kaddish, the Jewish prayer he had heard occasionally
    at services for the dead, said traditionally by the closest male relative
    and in the presence of ten Jewish men. Nim's lips moved silently,
    stumbling over the ancient Aramaic words. Yisgadal veyiskadash sh'may
    rabbo be'olmo deevro chiroosey ve'yamlich malchoosey . . . He stopped, the
    remainder of the prayer eluding him, even while realizing that to pray at
    all was, for him, illogical.
    There had been moments in his life-tbis was one-wben Nim sensed instincts
    deep with him yearning for religious faith, for identification,
    personally, with his heritage. But religion, or at least the practice of
    it, was a closed door, It was slammed shut before Nim's birth by his
    father, Isaac Goldman, who came to America from Eastern Europe as a
    young, penniless immigrant and ardent socialist. The son of a rabbi,
    Isaac found socialism and Judaism incompatible. He thereupon rejected the
    religion of his forebears, leaving his own parents heartbroken. Even now,
    old Isaac, at eighty-two, still mocked the basic tenets of Jewish faith,
    describing them as "banal chitchat between God and Abraham, and the
    fatuous fairy tale of a chosen people."
    Nim had grown up accepting his father's choice. The festival of Passover
    and the High Holy Days-Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur-passed unobserved bN,
    the Goldman family and now, as an outcropping of Isaac's personal
    rebellion, a third generation-Nim's own children Leah and Benjy-were
    removed from Jewish heritage and identity. No bar mitzvah for Benly had
    been planned, an omission which o~casionally troubled Nim and prompted
    the question: Despite decisions be had made about himself, did he have
    the right to separate his children from five thousand years of Jewish
    history? It was not too late, be knew, but so far Nim had not resolved
    the issue.
    As he thought of his family, Nim realized he had neglected to call Ruth
    to tell her be would not be home until late. He reached for the mobile
    phone to his right below the instrument panel-a convenience which GSP &
    L supplied and paid for. An operator answered and lie gave her his home
    number. Moments later he beard a ringing tone, then a small voice.
    "Goldman residence, Bcnjy Goldman speaking." Nim smiled. That was Benjy
    all right-even at ten, precise and systematized, in contrast to his
    sister Leah, four years older, perenniallv disorganized and who answered
    phones with a casual, "Hi!"
    "It's Dad," Nim said. "I'm on mobile." He had taught the family to wait
    when they heard that because on a radio-telephone conversations couldn't
    overlap. He added, "Is everything all right at home?"
    "Yes, Dad, it is now. But the electricity went off." Benjy gave a little
    chuckle. "I guess you knew. And, Dad, I reset all the clocks."
    "That's good, and yes, I knew. Let me talk to your mother."
    "Leab wants . . ."
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Nim heard a scuffling, then the voice of his daughter. "Hi! We watched the
    TV news. You weren't on." Leah sounded accusing. The children had become
    used to seeing Nim on television as spokesman for GSP & L. Perhaps Nim's
    absence from the screen today would lower Leah's status among her friends.
    "Sorry about that, Leah. There were too many other things happening. May I
    talk to your mother?"
    Another pause. Then, "Nim?" Ruth's soft voice.
    He pressed the push-to-talk bar. "That's who it is. And getting to talk to
    you is like elbowing through a crowd."
    While talking, be changed freeway lanes,