All of sudden he appeared in front of me,
but he was not a supernatural vision or an angel.
I was walking with my head in the clouds during
one of the first chilly evenings of Jerusalem, letting musings about aliyah
and galut roll freely in my mind. And all of sudden he appeared in front
of me.
Young, mid-twenties, velvet kippah, dark pants,
white shirt, and navy blue jacket. I automatically classified him as a
Sephardic yeshiva student.
“Can you help me?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any money.”
I knew I had no coins and I wasn’t going
to pull out my wallet in a lonely, poorly lit alleyway since I wouldn’t want him to grab my wallet and run
away with all its content. Or a hidden accomplice of his.
“I’m really
hungry…”
This statement
gave me complete certainty that there was an accomplice hidden somewhere. One
thing I remember from my time in an Orthodox yeshivah, in the summer of 1991: hunger
was not the enemy, heartburn and binge-eating were. The students were served a
generous amount of food at every meal, always the same gloppy, salty, wilted, deep-fried
and over cooked but abundant dishes. The memory of the colorful plastic bowls
and plates quickly conjured up the smells from those days next to my growing anxiety
for this young man and his lurking accomplices.
“I have to go.
Good evening.”
Then the
unexpected, that leaves you speechless and throws you in a dark pit for days.
“Let’s go to
your car. If I suck you off, what can you give me?”
My standard
answer “I don’t pay for sex” didn’t seem to fit here. I just strode away from
it all, but it all followed me. I hastened my pace, and all sort of questions
about this young man started whirling in my mind. Why is he doing this did he
run away from his yeshivah where’s his family does he really need money what
can I give him I can’t get too involved in this but I could buy him some food
at the convenience store screw the accomplices I could get him some food and ask
if he needs anything else was he kicked out of the yeshivah because he’s gay and
now he is hungry does he have a place to sleep did his family
kick him out too no he can’t stay on our couch
I went back as
fast as I could, in the hope to reach him and get him some food, but he had disappeared.
I hadn’t gone too far away, less than a block, but he had disappeared. He could
have walked in the opposite direction of where I went looking for him, he could
have found someone nicer who had given him the little money he was asking for, he
could have found someone who had taken
him up on his offer.
That night I
couldn’t sleep. Three weeks have gone by since, and whenever I walk the
alleyway I still feel the sting of shame for not helping someone who might have
legitimately been in need. I’ve looked for him in the neighborhood; I’ve seen
him in every Sephardic guy I’ve crossed; but now I’m losing hope to recognize
him and right the wrong.
What if he was an angel?
