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'So e over。 We'll eat。 We'll talk。' Pause。 'You'll make Edna very happy。 She's been worried about you。'
He rested his head against the acoustic panel of the booth。 Traffic raced by him； just beyond his reach。
'Yes；' he said after a time。 'Okay。 I'll be over。'
He hung up and hailed a cab。 The Goldmans lived in the Dakota on Seventy…second and Central Park West。 They took the Bowery； which turned into Third Avenue； all the way up to Forty…second Street where the taxi turned left； heading cross…town to Eighth Avenue。
Just after Broadway； Nicholas leaned forward； tapped the intervening plastic partition。 'I've changed my mind。 I'll get off here。' He paid and got out。
He had been idly staring put of the left…side window as they passed the long line of movie marquees along that tawdry street when he had seen the film titles。
He watched the two…way traffic； crossed to the south side of the street。 He walked west； past a couple of the new…era glass and chrome porn shops； proudly announcing 'Couples Wele'。 The doors were thrown open in one and a tall black man in wide hat and tight green trousers lounged in the doorway。 'Hits；' he murmured； 'loose joints； coke； speed。 Quality stuff。'
Now the movie marquees came one after another in a seemingly unending line on both sides of the street。 Most were porn houses but one； the one Nicholas had seen from the cab window； was not。 Here there was a kung fu triple bill。 Two of the films starred Bruce Lee。
Nicholas dug out a buck…fifty and went inside。 The place smelt old and musty。 It was lighter than was normal in most theatres。 There was a crowd of black and Puerto Rican kids clamouring around the soda machine at the back。
He took a seat。 The place was almost filled。 On the screen Bruce Lee was talking earnestly with a couple of evil…looking Japanese in dubbed English。 The audience was noisy； restless for the action sequences。 Dialogue they did not appreciate。
Nicholas sat back； watching Lee for a time。 The years had not diminished his aura…。 His spirit seemed to leap off the screen； making the most slipshod productions worth watching。
Nicholas recalled the first time they had met。 It had been in Hong Kong； ironically； after the period Lee had spent in Hollywood； working as a bit player in films and TV and teaching stars enough of the martial arts to get by in front of a camera。
He was beginning to be somewhat of a star in his own right then。 They had taken to each other immediately but time and logistics had worked against them and they had never seen each other again。
Lee's death had e as a shock to Nicholas。 Not that someone would try to kill him … he knew enough about Lee by that time to understand that the man's unpromising nature had bee a thorn in some decidedly unsavoury sides … but that an attempt had succeeded。 He had always wondered how it had been done； now he thought he knew。
Outside； it was still stifling and； in this place of hot lights； fast food； dirty dope and even dirtier deals； more so than elsewhere。
It took him fifteen minutes to find an empty cab and half that time to reach the Dakota； there was little traffic。
He had stayed at the decaying theatre just long enough to catch one of Lee's gorgeously choreographed action sequences； motivated； as usual； by revenge。 Tonight there seemed nothing artificial about that。
Goldman； dapper as ever in a pale blue pinstripe shirt and midnight…blue linen slacks； met him at the door。 He smiled warmly when he saw Nicholas； extending a firm hand。 'Nick。 We were getting worried about you。 He turned； still in the doorway。 'Edna； it's him。' He pulled Nicholas inside； pushed a rum on the rocks into his hand。 'Here。 It looks like you need this。'
Edna； a dark…haired chubby woman； bustled into the living room from the swing door to the large kitchen。 She beamed； raised her hands。 'Tateleh！' She kissed Nicholas on both cheeks。 She had the kind of incandescent inner warmth that made mere physical beauty irrelevant。 'Where have you been so long； you haven't e to see us？' Her voice held just the right balance between love and reproach。
He smiled thinly。 'It's good to see you both。'
'That's it；' she said as if she had discovered a rare artifact。 'You've lost weight。 e。〃 She took him by the hand。 'We eat first。 Whatever it is you want to talk to Sam about can wait for a full stomach。'
They ate in the kitchen with the yellow and beige wallpaper and the old West Side fixtures； the oval table of fine…grained mahogany richly waxed； covered with a beautiful embroidered white…on…white tablecloth。 A brass Menorah stood on a wall shelf above the table； at its centre。
Afterwards； as Edna cleared the dishes； Sam nodded silently to Nicholas and they excused themselves。 Edna kissed them both before they left。 'Whatever is wrong；' she told him with absolute faith； 'you can fix it。 Right； Sam？ Am I right？'
'You're always right。' He ushered Nicholas into the living room。
Beige and pale green predominated。 Edna despised brilliant primaries； perhaps because she saw her childhood on 189th Street in those colours。 The effect was a soothing one； like being in a cool forest during the heat of the day。
They sat on the beige velvet couch and Sam put his feet up on a matching ottoman。 An antique clock ticked lightly from its owl…like perch on the white marble mantelpiece。 A great bunch of dried eucalyptus in a pale pink ceramic vase stood within the grate； wafting its pungent scent into the room。 There was a Utrillo on the opposite wall and； on another； a small Dali。 In their bedroom； on pale blue walls； were a Picasso and a Calder which； of course； Edna detested。 They were all originals but they were displayed with a pleasing lack of ostentation。
'It has e back；' Nicholas said softly。 'All my past； like a great tidal wave。〃
Goldman reached for a hardwood box； took out a cigar； lit it slowly。
'I've lost the present somewhere along the line。 I no longer know where I am。'
He deliberately blew the blue smoke away from Nicholas。 'Nicholas； as Shakespeare so cleverly put into Ophelia's mouth； 〃We know what we are； but we know not what we may be。〃'
'Sam； I didn't e here for homilies！' he exploded。
'Nor did I mean to give you any。' He took the cigar out of his mouth； laid it on a crystal ashtray。 'Look； it is totally unreasonable to expect to know or understand everything about yourself。 The human being is such a plex animal that we have to be content to muddle through things as best we can。 Some days； it just doesn't seem nearly enough。 At other times。。。' He shrugged with some equanimity。
'I understand all that。 But you're the expert on history。 I am only partly a Jew。 I haven't had the training。 I don't …'
'It has nothing；' Goldman said seriously； 'at all to do with training。 One learns the meaning of being a Jew just as one learns the meaning of being a human being … by living life； not by learning the Torah。
'It es from what you feel inside and the important thing is that you do not deny what is inside you。 Doubt and fears； uncertainty of the present and the future all stem from that。 Your self must be free to go in whichever direction it must go。
'The spirit flies； Nicholas … i