Tuesday The Rabbi Saw Red Read Online Free PDF Page B

see that you do.”
    The man drilled the hole and then left to return to the dean’s office, Hendrix felt it necessary to explain his show of temper. “I was given that bust by the first class I ever taught. It isn’t anything you can pack easily – it must weigh fifty or sixty pounds – but I’ve lugged it around with me from job to job for the last dozen years.”
    The rabbi nodded sympathetically, although he suspected the outburst at the serviceman was caused by Hendryx’s earlier displeasure on learning he would have to share his office.
    Another knock; this time it was Dean Hanbury. “We can go up to see President Macomber now,” she said.
     
    President Macomber was a tall, gray-haired man, dressed in slacks, sportshirt, and nylon windbreaker, a bag of golf clubs lay on the floor in one corner of his office. “I just played nine holes,” he said to explain his costume. “Do you play golf. Rabbi?”
    “No, I’m afraid not.”
    “Pity. You have a parish, or…?”
    “I have a congregation in Barnard’s Crossing.”
    “Of course,” he nodded enthusiastically. “You’re from Dean Hanbury’s hometown, well, I imagine it’s like being minister of a church or pastor of a parish. I mean, you’ve probably got a board of vestrymen you’ve got to get along with.”
    “We have a board of directors.”
    “That’s what I mean, and I’m sure you’d find it a lot easier to work with that board if you played golf. You can come to an understanding on a golf course a lot easier than sitting across a table decked out in a tie and business suit, a college president these days is a combination salesman and public relations man; and take it from me, there’s nothing like a golf course to transact business. Think about it, well, Rabbi. I’m happy you were able to join us.”
    He extended his hand to signify the meeting was over. “What do you hear from Betty?” the dean asked.
    President Macomber smiled. “She’s almost completed her residence requirement.” He shook his head in amusement. “Sorry. Rabbi, but it’s hard to break the habit of academic lingo. My daughter is in Reno,” he explained to the rabbi, “getting a divorce.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry.” said the rabbi.
    “No need to be. It’s one of those things. You people believe in divorce, don’t you?”
    “Oh yes, as a cure for an impossible marriage.” said the rabbi.
    “Well, that’s what this was.” And to Dean Hanbury, “If everything goes according to Hoyle, she’ll be back here as Betty Macomber again by next week.”
    “Oh, that’s nice.” said Millicent Hanbury.
    “Well, again. Rabbi, we’re happy to have you with us, and if you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come and see me.”
     
    Rabbi Small returned to his office for his hat and coat, and finding Professor Hendryx busy with grade lists and uncommunicative, he wandered down to the first floor of the building to wait for the faculty meeting to begin. It was scheduled for eleven o’clock and by half-past ten the teachers began to arrive, the rabbi killed time, idly looking at the commemorative tablets, dingy oil paintings, and yellowing portrait photographs of earlier presidents and deans – women in stiff lace collars and oval pince-nez, just as he had originally pictured Dean Hanbury – that lined the walls of the marble-floored, rotunda-like foyer. Faculty members greeted each other, with someone occasionally looking at him curiously, but no one came over.
    Then he heard his name called. Turning, he saw the tall figure of Roger Fine advancing toward him. “I thought it was you,” Fine said, “but I couldn’t imagine what you were doing here.”
    “I’m going to be teaching here.” said the rabbi, pleased to see a familiar face. “I’m giving the course in Jewish Thought and Philosophy.”
    “I’ve only been here since last February myself.” said Fine, “but wasn’t there another rabbi listed in the catalogue?”
    “Yes. Rabbi Lamden.”
    “Oh, you