Excerpt from the first Rabbi Ben mystery novel I wrote, "For Whom The Shofar Blows." Available on Amazon Barnes & Noble Kobo Kindle iTunes. For more info and reviews, click here.
They dined on a patio watching the dying sunset’s magnificent purples and reds behind the entire San Fernando Valley, stretching dozens of miles toward the horizon, an endless sea of twinkling lights framed by red and white ribbons of headlamp- and –taillight-strewn freeways.
Ben had never tasted better food. The chicken was moist yet firm, marvelously seasoned. Each item in the salad was deliciously distinct in texture and flavor. The cornbread stuffing topped all—the best food he’d ever had. He took seconds, then thirds, meanwhile sipping on a robust, superbly fruity Baron Hertzog Zinfandel.
Relaxing into drowsiness, Ben marveled at how he felt—never more alive, more in control, more cogent—yet, somehow, he also felt himself drifting away, saw himself reclining on a patio chair with Susan nestled in his arms. It was as though he was in two places at once, viewing himself from high above and simultaneously feeling her soft lips on his own, the delicious weight of her breasts pressing against his chest …
Ben opened his eyes. Susan lay atop him, smiling.
Ben said, “What was in that stuffing?”
“Same as the sesame cakes—a little herb seasoning.”
“What sort of herb?”
“Gary used to get it from that Mexican guy. The one in Pacoima, with the garage.”
“No, silly. His name’s Henry. Loco Henry.”
“Gary buys marijuana from him?”
“I call it Mary Jane’s Home Relaxer. He likes to smoke it. I hate smoking. It’s so much better in food, don’t you think?”
Ben sighed. Gary was out to get him, he was sure. He’d set him up to stay with Susan so she could drug him. Any minute, he’d come to kill him. That was it. He couldn’t say anything; Susan would tell Gary, and he’d be finished.
Ben was fearful, but he didn’t want to get up. It was too hard, and he was too comfortable.
And something else was getting hard. Susan was gently stroking him through his trousers. Deep in his loins, desire built, a buried tingling that grew more urgent by the second. It was wonderful. And dangerous. He knew that he should stop, but he was powerless to resist.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Mrs. Robinson! You’re trying to seduce me.”
Susan laughed. He had never heard a sexier laugh.
“Damn right I am.”
No, he thought.
No, no, no. I’m high as a kite, but this is no excuse. Gently, he pushed her away and sat up.
“I shouldn’t have let things go so far. Please forgive me.”
“You’re a beautiful woman. I’d like nothing better than to make love with you. Gary was crazy to let you go.”
“I let him go. He wanted his cake—me—and his little cupcake, too. She’s twenty-five, big fake boobs, legs up to here, and she wants to open a chain of boutiques with his money. Our money! Well, screw him. Forget Gary. You’re gorgeous! You defuse bombs, break bully’s arms and give Torah lessons. And you’re stoned. I’m stoned. Let’s do it.”
“Please, Susan, don’t make it any harder.”
Ben staggered to his feet.
“Tova was right! You’re gay!”
“No. No. Please, don’t do this.”
Hating himself, Ben staggered inside and found his room. He kicked his shoes off and fell forward on the bed.
The room spun. A little sleep, he thought, and then I’ll be able to think straight.
© 2013 Marvin J. Wolf
FROM Marvin J. Wolf
On this page are true stories, magazine articles, excerpts from books and unpublished works, short fiction, and photographs, each offering a glimpse of my life, work and times. Your comments welcome. © Marvin J. Wolf. All rights reserved.