Lie of the Land: Chapter 2    

Gabe remembers the few trips that he and Rivi had taken with Abba as kids. Abba had always been leery of traveling to places that were too crowded, with too many strangers. They had never gone to the local amusement parks or arcades, not until Rivi had gotten her driver’s license and taken charge of Gabe’s vacations. Instead, they had gone hiking in upstate New York and wandering through distant parks, far from Gabe’s classmates at yeshivah.

But every now and then, there would be the familiar elbow at his side and Rivi’s low murmur of, “Yidden, look!” He’d glance up and spot another Jewish family, a man in a telltale baseball cap, a single tzitzis string trailing over khakis, and warmth and recognition would flood him. There would be a nod, a smile, eye contact — two Jews in the wild, the world a little smaller for it.

It’s been years since Gabe had last spotted another Jew. But it takes only five minutes after his plane lands at the airport on Wednesday morning before he sees a black hat, a woman in a tichel, a few teenagers with notably long skirts. In New Jersey, Jews are everywhere, and that sense of recognition feels more alien now, more unnerving.

Gabe is the intruder, the one who doesn’t belong. He’s the man in the baseball cap — a National Geographic one from a get-together last year — but his tzitzis are always firmly tucked in, hidden away from animals or curious coworkers or tribal members. There is nothing about him that screams one of you. Not anymore.