Baltimore Noir - Laura Lippman [43]
Tania felt shaky. She hadn’t been able to eat breakfast this morning, or even dinner last night. Tzom, Yoshi had named it. The ritual fast. Purification, it was said, was an essential part of the journey. But looking at her face in the mirror, at its pallor in the room’s earthy light, Tania didn’t feel pure.
“In the midst of a liminal moment, you are out of the world,” the rabbi had said. “For that time, it is as if you no longer exist.”
A keycard hissed as it slid into the slot outside the door of Room 213.
Almost at once, Tania knew.
“You’re so beautiful!” Gary Sims spoke in tones of awe. “Even more beautiful than the photographs your uncle—”
“Yoshi.”
“Your Uncle Yoshi sent me. Beautiful!”
“Thank you,” Tania said.
Her face was hot. It did not feel like her face at all.
“Don’t thank me,” Gary said, placing a heavy shoulder bag and a smaller, flatter case on the bed, then turning back toward her and clasping his hands in front of his chest. “I should thank you, Tania. For giving me this chance.”
Gary smiled, nodded his head, made a little bow toward her. He was maybe thirty-five, but looked younger, with a round face, a wispy beard and mustache surrounding red lips that stood out against his pinkish skin. Just an inch or two taller than Tania’s 5’8” and always in motion, hands knotting and releasing, foot tapping, head tilted to one side, then the other, as he looked at her and away.
Making Tania feel like something heavy and ponderous, a cow, an elephant, in comparison.
But Gary seeming to think otherwise. “I couldn’t tell from the photos, but your nose is perfect,” he said. “Those little buttons—they just don’t show up well. And those girls who get their noses broken and reset—” His hand went up and pushed at the tip of his nose. “They look like pigs, don’t you think?” Another quick glance. “With you, though, I was worried about a bump. You know, a lot of girls like you have that bump right here—” Touching the bridge of his nose now. “But not you.”
A lot of girls like me.
“I’m so glad to be here,” he said. “It was worth the drive.” Looking suddenly shy, he reached into his pocket. “I brought this for you.”
A long silver necklace, interlocking links, a chain. Hanging from it was a Jewish star.
He placed it around her neck, arranged it so the star rested in the little indentation between her breasts. It shone against the navy-blue of her Goucher sweatshirt.
Tania knew then.
She understood exactly how this worked.
And why it worked.
“Your uncle told me you don’t have a computer at home.”
She shrugged.
A sympathetic grimace. “Why not?”
“My parents won’t let me.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He laced his fingers, pulled them apart. “And I’ll bet that’s not all they’re unfair about. You probably even have a strict curfew, right?”
She shrugged again.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” He looked thoughtful. “How old are you, Tania?”
“Seventeen,” she said. “Like my uncle told you.”
He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “So beautiful, so bright, but so … stifled. Held back. Distrusted,” he said, shaking his head. “Believe me, I’ve heard it before, more times than you could believe.” His gaze touched gently on hers. “Seventeen is old enough to start making your own decisions, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” she said. Then: “That’s why I’m here.”
“I know.” His eyes were full of sympathy and understanding. “I’ll help you, Tania,” he said. “I swear it.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, unzipped the smaller of the two bags he’d brought, and pulled out a laptop computer. He unfolded it, rested it on his knees, and pushed a button. The computer hummed, and a moment later the screen turned from black to gray to blue.
“Let me show you what we’ll be doing together.” He gave her a slantwise