Parnassus

Technically I was a man.

This spindly squeaky thing with the Adam’s-apple accent was, by virtue of being thirteen and bar-mitzvahed, a technical man.

And so the phone call came: they needed a tenth for a minyan. Nathan Kaplan—I remembered Mr. Kaplan, didn’t I?—needed to say the yiskor prayers for his wife, and if I weren’t there in attendance…