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My brother and I, when we were little kids,

we had this goy babysitter,

who would tell us stories about purgatory.

She said that it was a place, but not really a place.

It's sort of like a dream

in that you didn't really know you were there.

And you stayed in this place as long as it took

for you to learn something.

Time and space didn't even matter.

Do you think that's what it's like after you die?

It doesn't matter how it things end.

It only matters how it begins.

Journeying.

The Jewish way of worship.

We carry God on our shoulders.

Diaspora in our DNA.

What keeps us moving?

Jews come from all corners of the globe.

We do not get to keep our homes,

so we have to keep moving...

to that land of promise.

My childhood was different from yours.

Bricks and asphalt.

Heaps of trash outside in bins,

overflowing with bits of broken glass.

The heat sticks to the backs of obsidian dolls.

Beyond the road lies the town of Or-Akiva.

The absorption center is on an island.

Between two worlds.

Ethiopia and Israel.

The limbo of residence.

The Third World and the rest.

Who are you talking to?

Practicing my sermon. Yom Kippur services tomorrow.

You look nervous.

That's because you startled me.

Well, then you're focused...

like a laser.

I guess you don't want to mess up

right before the highest of holidays, huh?

I mean, after all, this is our...

It's our last chance to make amends with the Almighty.

What if you dropped the Torah?

No pressure.

I'm sorry. I...

I don't mean to interrupt.

I was just looking for a place to dry off.

My name's Isaac.

So you're the rabbi, I take it?

Yes.

What's it take to become a rabbi anyway?

Is it like, um...

like some spiritual intuition kind of thing?

Like being, um...

uh, like a sci-fi space wizard?

Lots of study.

Ah.

Secret, huh? Hmm.

I mean, you can tell me.

I'm Jewish.

Aren't you gonna offer me condolences?

I'm just kidding.

I went to elementary school here.

Are you all right?

You're soaking wet.

Yeah, I am.

I walked here from the airport.

It's like 10 miles in the pouring rain.

Long trip.

I just got back from Israel, actually.

I buried my father in Tel Aviv.

I'm sorry for your loss.

I love that prayer that's recited for the brave.

What's it called?

The Mourner's Kaddish.

The music of melancholy.

The perfect prayer to accompany the dead.

The Mourner's Kaddish makes no mention of death.

It is the celebration of life.

It praises all of God's creation.

Well, then why is it recited a funerals?

To remind us that we are still alive,

that we are still healthy,

But I'm not, Rabbi.

I'm sick.

No, that's not why I have the mask.

It's for my protection, not yours.

No, this sickness,

it can't be flushed out with mucus.

It's in myself.

Perhaps you need a blessing.

I can perform the Mi Shebeirach,

the prayer for the sick.

I want the Mourner's Kaddish.

- For your father. - For me.

You cannot request this for yourself.

You're alive. Be grateful.

Yeah, my heart's still pumping, if that's what you mean.

I don't know if I'm truly living.

It's a 14-hour journey.

This can make anyone feel unwell.

Yeah, nothing's too good for dear old Dad.

Then I'll shout, "Honor thy mother and father,"

and all that.

This is maybe a wrong translation of Hebrew.

The word "kavod"

means both honor and dignity.

Dignity?

I like that.

Thou shall dignify thy father

by showing up to his internment ceremony,

even if it is 10 million miles away.

You ever been to the Holy Land?

Of course. That's where I grew up.

Really?

- That surprises me. - Why?

Because you look so...

American.

Were you born here?

Isn't it obvious?

You should go home. Rest, yeah?

Uh, I can't.

I'm too agitated.

I got in a fight with my girlfriend,

and I don't want to talk about it.

Then you should make yourself useful.

You sound like my father.

Help me with the books, yeah?

Uh, okay.

- No! - Wha...

Not the Torah.

The books.

Under the podium.

Yes.

What's this?

Don't touch that box!

You're shaking.

You don't have a bigger jacket?

Now you sound like my mother.

I gave it to a crazy-looking hobo with a fly swatter.

I think his teeth were made of wood.

There's a lot of interest in people in this neighborhood.

Yeah, schizophrenics shouting at ghosts.

The world's gone crazy. You know what's causing it?

Social media.

Toxoplasmosis.

It's a parasite found in kitty litter.

My mom had four cats.

I prefer dogs.

My best friend was a golden retriever named Golda.

Cute.

Twelve years of unconditional faithfulness.

He's gone now.

Blind obedience, dogs.

You have to earn a cat's trust.

I mean, they are suspicious of everyone.

Cats also hate being wet.

It's easier to show compassion to animals.

They are never wicked.

Who says?

Haile Selassie.

And what, does he play for the Yankees?

What?

He was a great Ethiopian emperor,

related to King Solomon.

You're an Ethiopian Jew?

Oh, that's cool.

Yeah.

Cool.

Well, Haile obviously never met a jilted feline.

Anyway, um...

I'm related to Napoleon.

He was defeated by winter.

Still cold?

Constantly chilled to the bone.

Storm clouds all week.

All year.

It's a record-breaking winter.

Climate change, you know?

I was watching this movie

where they did one of those computer simulations,

and the ocean rose up and completely sank New York.

Like the Statue of Liberty

was up to her elbows in the Atlantic.

I don't think she knows how to swim.

A tidal flood.

Should we build an ark?

Maybe it's wise to be prepared, yeah?

Two of every animal.

Uh, let's skip mosquitoes though.

I don't think I have much blood left to spare.

Poor circulation.

You need to stop giving away your jacket.

It was a mitzvah.

The guy was screaming about the end of the world.

Fire and the brimstone!

What is it about Christians and burning?

Some believe sin can be purged through sacrifice.

Oh. Sweating it out in a schvitz?

I mean, heat isn't bad. It just makes you shed.

Coldness goes straight to the core.

Fuses the bone.

I believe the world is about to end.

Really?

Yeah, I do.

But it's not gonna be fire and brimstone.

It's gonna be cold.

Bitter cold.

Endless rain.

Sheets of ice will blanket over the oceans.

Skyscrapers turning into towers of frost.

It's already starting to happen.

Leaky roof.

God helps those who help themselves.

Faith is like a house.

It needs a strong foundation.

Otherwise, one big storm will send it toppling on over.

God builds your home inside of you.

Well, mine needs a remodel.

That's a real nice paint job you got there.

You ever gonna get around to finishing it?

Our youth group was supposed to finish today,

but because of the rain, they did not show up.

So you're just gonna leave it like that?

Uh, Yom Kippur's tomorrow.

And what am I supposed to do?

Oh, no, no.

Are you coming or what?

Uh, make yourself useful.

God helps those who help themselves.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

God helps those who help themselves.

Yes, Isaac.

You get that part right there.

Oh, no, no. Nice even strokes. Here, watch me.

How did you learn how to do this?

Um, my father taught me how to do odd jobs around the house.

He'd say, "I have a proposition for you,"

and then make me an offer.

He owned a pawn shop, so making deals was his trade.

Dad thought self-reliance was important.

It was his idea to enroll my brother and I

in Jewish private school.

Someone has to carry the torch.

Yeah, especially when it's so close to being extinguished.

Um...

can the Mourner's Kaddish be used

to pray for someone really ill?

No.

We cannot treat the sick as if they were dead.

It's against Jewish law.

Well, then what if I proved to you that I'm not really live?

How can you make such a claim?

Watch me.

I'm no good at this.

What?

All right.

Are you planning on being here all night?

I must close the synagogue by 9:00.

Okay.

Then I have a proposition for you.

If I can prove to you by then that I'm not really alive,

then you'll give me the Mourner's Kaddish.

And if you can't?

Uh, then I'll finish painting the wall by tomorrow.

And I'll scrub the floors outside too.

Now I have paint on my sleeve.

Hey, you're still alive. Be grateful.

The Magen David used to be a lot larger

when I was young.

How long has it been?

Uh, I'm 23 now, so...

Eleven years, give or take.

Yeah, math was never my strongest subject.

The laws of nature are but the mathematical thoughts of God.

Haile Selassie?

Euclid.

Your knowledge spans centuries.

Education is good, yeah?

I wish I had a proper one.

You did not like it here?

This school sucked, Rabbi.

They were too busy teaching us Shabbat songs

to cover two plus two.

Things look good to me.

The children are fat and healthy.

Ah.

I did like the music during services.

It always conjured images of old Jews in some shtetl,

dressed in ratty shawls, hovering over a lit barrel.

Struggling for warmth.

But still, they go on.

Sounds like the school imparted in you

a sense of community.

Please. The computer lab had Apple IIs.

In that day and age, they didn't even have mice.

Better than having rats.

You don't get it.

It is more than what I had.

You can't know something

until you've lived through it yourself.

No computers, but you're so smart.

Your speech is quite eloquent for a...

Ethiopian?

American.

I read lots of books.

Every Wednesday, an old white lady

would come to the orphanage.

She had wrinkled hands, like a basket.

Her voice was rusty.

I used to think she had a frog in her stomach.

Why do you have all this stuff anyway?

I like to hold objects just that have been touched.

They're stories.

These things belonged to my son.

It is not mine.

It is not yours.

How old's your kid?

Is he going to school here?

He's in Israel with my wife.

You married an Israeli woman? Why did you leave?

I was called by God to tell my story here.

She stayed in Israel to help with the absorption center.

Do you miss 'em?

What do you think?

I wouldn't know.

I don't relate well with people.

What about Africa?

Ethiopia.

Do you miss it?

No.

But it's your home.

Israel is my home.

And America is my home.

They didn't want you.

The Ethiopian government denied our presence.

Journalists were told not to take our photo.

We did not exist.

Israel embraced us.

A sandy kiss.

You know, I just left, and I can still...

feel the grit in my teeth.

And no one to share it with.

You did not go with your girlfriend?

Too much baggage.

I like to have room to stretch my legs.

Mom always said, "First class or nothing."

My journey was a bit more cramped.

They had to remove the seats to fit us all inside.

An entire village packed inside a cargo plane.

No in-flight movie?

We sang to pass the time.

When we were told we were over the Holy Land,

we started to clap.

We were finally free.

You made it...

to the Holy Land.

Yeah, we did.

Snowy mountains over desert.

Green fields next to sand.

Blue and pink hues rich as a painter's dream.

Skyscrapers too.

Built atop biblical history.

I didn't expect it to be so civilized.

I thought it'd be all primitive clay huts and sandy dunes.

Other than that...

yeah, it was beautiful.

Were you inspired?

I had a vision.

Like a dream?

Like Jacob and the ladder?

It was terrible.

You can be honest with me.

After I fell asleep on the beach,

I woke up to this really awful slurping noise.

The sea was gone.

Just pure bedrock.

And then I saw my girlfriend at the bottom,

sucking it dry with a really long straw.

Her belly got so big.

It burst like a beached whale.

You're right.

That is a terrible vision.

Or a hallucination caused by sunstroke.

It's true, you know.

The Dead Sea is disappearing,

slowly evaporating under the hot sun.

Climate change.

End of the world.

I mean, the important thing is, I had an epiphany.

I realized what she was: just a...

a colorful accessory.

Even the sex felt tacked on.

I broke up with her at the airport

when she came to pick me up.

She was wearing these giant purple sunglasses,

and something about that really pissed me off.

I don't know. It just...

It reminded me that I didn't really know her.

She was just a mask.

So I...

Hold on. I need to set the scene.

Okay, um...

pretend we're at an airplane terminal.

You be me, and I'll be my girlfriend.

What?

- You're me now. - Why?

It's play acting. You never played pretend as a kid?

- Why are we doing this? - You don't know something

until you've lived through it yourself.

The new me. How do you feel?

Confused.

Perfect.

All right, so I deplane the plane,

and she comes at me like this.

Oh my God, baby.

I miss you so much. Look at you.

Have you lost even more weight?

I told you not to skip any more meals.

Wait. Why are your eyes so red? Have you been crying?

Well, come on! Talk to me, baby!

I miss you so much. Give me a kiss.

I don't want to do this anymore.

I barely even know you.

How did you know that is exactly what I told her?

Spiritual intuition.

Oh, come on. Where's your sense of fun?

That is not my idea of fun.

You dumped her at the terminal.

Yeah, just like that.

Five years down the luggage chute.

Look...

it's for her own good.

Right?

I told you I'm sick, Rabbi.

But there's a more pressing issue.

I was in such a hurry, I forgot my bags.

Well, maybe someone will steal my identity.

I hope they do.

They might have better luck with it than me.

Well, at least I still have my cap.

Did you know owls mate for life?

Everyone needs a companion.

My girlfriend and I, we used to go to, um...

weekly game night at the local bar.

Do you like games, Rabbi?

Did you spin this dreidel with your son?

Where did you get this?

It was on the ground. It fell out of the box.

Hey, remind me.

What are the rules of the game?

It's been awhile.

A dreidel has four sides.

Oh, thanks. You can skip ahead a little bit.

I'm not that rusty.

What do the letters mean?

If nun is facing up, the player does nothing.

Gimel: He gets everything.

Hei: He gets half.

Shin: He puts one into the pot.

May I?

Come on. A dreidel's meant to be spun.

What would your son think if he knew

that it was just sitting here collecting dust?

Once.

I just realized we have nothing to gamble with.

I don't have my wallet, so...

all we have is our words.

Shin, shin, put one in.

Looks like I owe you one.

Can I sit there?

Ah.

Last week, my girlfriend and I...

Ex-girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend and I, we go to game night like usual,

and I really didn't wanna go 'cause I thought...

I mean, I thought I had the flu. I was like throwing up all day.

It was like some kind of stomach bug.

But she said that the fresh air would be good for my health,

which is bullshit.

Anyway, so I'm sitting there

in front of my untouched plate of french fries,

and we're playing Pictionary.

You know, the game where you have to guess

what the other person's drawing.

And she was supposed to draw the phrase...

Actually, I'll show you.

No more play acting!

What do you do for fun in Ethiopia?

Count mosquitoes?

Come on.

Start guessing.

Compass.

North. Travel.

Sky.

A bird. Pumpkin.

Up in smoke.

Going up.

Clouds.

Hair?

God.

Bush.

- Pie. - Huh?

On cloud nine.

Uh...

- Up in the air. - Yes!

Yes, yes. See?

Easy, right? Well, no.

'Cause nothing's ever simple for my ex-girlfriend.

She starts drawing a plane, like the one I took to Israel.

I mean, she's getting all the small details...

the wings, the windows, the cockpit.

That was her.

She's always focusing on the small details

and missing the big picture.

So she's standing there, scribbling her Picasso,

and I realize shouting out answers is a useless endeavor.

So my eyes start wandering to this guy on the opposite team.

He was wearing a bright orange turtleneck sweater

and had perfectly coiffed hair.

And I'm telling you, Rabbi, I'd never seen hair so coiffed.

Something's attracting me to this guy, and...

we make eye contact.

And I just get this huge erection.

I do not want to hear about this.

You said I could be honest with you.

About spiritual matters!

There's nothing more holy than a magnificent boner.

Hey, don't tell me you've never had inappropriate feelings

towards a member of your congregation.

I never have.

Tell the truth!

Truth is the safest lie.

Where did you hear that?

The rabbi before you.

Jewish proverb.

So, Rabbi, can I trust you?

Do you know right from wrong?

These things that you do with man is wrong.

People who entertain those hedonistic things

do not have time for God.

They're spiritually bereft.

I can't help who I am.

Homosexuality is fundamentally against Judaism.

No, it's not. No, it's not. No.

Are you going to argue with me about Judaism?

Who says you look at another dude and get a righteous chubb?

God? I don't think so.

No, that's all your homophobic baggage you're projecting.

- I am not. - And full of contradictions.

I thought you said everyone deserves a companion.

And by the way,

a lot of things are fundamentally against Judaism,

especially the Jews.

Our main export is self-loathing.

Do you hate yourself?

Constantly.

I'm sorry.

He says, after calling me depraved.

My father just died. Where's your compassion?

I never said you were depraved.

You're the one who's projecting.

Oh, yeah, that's right. I think you said...

Oh, yeah.

"Spiritually bereft."

As in lifeless, deceased.

Okay, can I have the Mourner's Kaddish now?

That is not the same thing as physical death.

Will you stop trying to move the goalpost?

It's time for you to hold up your end of the proposition.

It's your turn. You never took your spin.

Shin again. What are the odds of that?

All right, tell me something about yourself, Rabbi.

I opened up to you.

Do you have a question, Isaac?

- Yeah. - Then ask!

Okay.

Do they have owls in Israel?

There are lots of birds in Israel.

Lots of black ones?

Are we still talking about birds?

Why did you fly away?

Why did you really leave Israel? That's my question.

All nests are temporary.

Right.

But eggs are fragile.

They shouldn't be taken before they've hatched.

On Purim, my class used to drop eggs from the roof.

Here.

We're supposed to prevent their shells from breaking,

so we packed them in boxes filled with shredded newspaper,

and we'd attach plastic bag parachutes.

Do they still do the egg drop here?

We cannot do it anymore for safety reasons.

A boy fell off the roof during recess,

and we had to build a gate on the stairwell.

Do you have a key?

I left a baseball card in the air vent.

I want to see if it's still there.

It'll only... It'll only take a minute.

Or not.

It's in my office.

I can't believe they put in a gate.

Iron bars don't belong in a temple.

This place is losing its intimacy.

They changed the floors. The carpet used to be blue.

Is color important?

For memory's sake.

We used to call this place "The Blue."

My homeroom teacher, she'd say,

"It's Friday. Line up to go to The Blue."

And then we'd march single-file down the hill

from the classrooms to synagogue.

Oh, there was this kid in a wheelchair.

He would fly down the hill,

arms up in the air without a care in the world.

I always wondered what his secret was.

Did you try asking him?

What? No.

No. Uh...

The only kid I talked to was my little brother.

- No friends your age? - The kids my age were the ones

I was trying to protect him against.

They teased him because he was...

'Cause he was different.

I don't know if you can see it, but I got this one right here

from a nasty sucker punch to the jaw.

Small scar. I don't know.

The other kid fractured his hand though, so I guess I won.

You do any fighting in your day?

Got the build for it. Bet you could be a bruiser.

Physical violence is not the only way to show resolve.

How else do you tell people you mean business?

Through kindness.

Stopped raining.

Good.

I think this place could use some more greenery

for the services.

Come. Help.

- It's cold outside. - Nah.

In my family, I was one of four boys

tasked with fetching water from the village well.

I was the youngest and the slowest,

and my brothers would scold me

for not bringing back as much water as them.

One morning on my way back,

I saw a bundle of rags by the side of the road.

See, we were told to scavenge for everything we could use,

so I thought this was an opportunity

to make my brothers proud.

But when I came close,

I saw that the bundle of rags

had the body of a frail old man in it.

Insects were crawling over his pale skin.

At first, I thought that he was dead.

But then he raised a stick-like trembling arm and pointed at me.

His tongue flicked at the sight of water,

and he looked into my soul with pleading yellow eyes.

That morning, I returned home with no water.

My brothers punished me

by making me go without drinking for four days.

By the end, I was so lightheaded,

I could barely stand.

Sounds like a pretty bad week.

No.

I never felt better...

after giving that dying old man water.

His look of gratitude filled my heart with endless lakes of joy.

Though I did not have the word for it then,

but that was the moment I learned the power of mitzvot.

I knew my path was to be taken side-by-side with God.

Maybe you were just dehydrated.

Uh, I mean, you're lucky you didn't die.

You realize that, right?

Children can be very resilient.

But everything leaves a scar.

What about the boy who fell from the roof?

You know about his injuries?

It must have been pretty bad if the congregation put in a gate.

I'm not sure.

It happened before I arrived.

But I've heard stories.

Was it malaria? The old man in the rags.

Killed half of our village, including my parents.

I'm sorry.

Hey, we're both orphans.

Kinda.

How biblical.

The world is crawling with sickness.

End of the world.

Are you afraid of germs?

Is that why you're wearing the mask?

Well, yeah.

I mean, I did just get back from a baseball game.

I thought you walked here from the airport.

With a brief six-hour stop at Busch Stadium.

What?

I made a promise to my brother.

The crowd was packed thick, like a glacier.

Bacteria frozen in the ice crystals.

Sickness in every chair.

There's a flu going around, and I have asthma.

You can never be too careful.

I mean, if I catch pneumonia,

my lungs will fill up with toxic sludge.

Who perish by water.

No. I have long since lost my buoyancy, Rabbi.

No.

Drowning is a terrible way to go.

I prefer a different method.

Something noble.

Equestrian.

Like falling...

from a horse.

Only God can know how and when.

Mm?

Well, that's the rub.

Free will isn't very free.

There's free will in all of us.

It exists between two points on a vertical line.

Two separate body parts.

The top point is the higher mind.

Our ears, it listens to the music of the divine.

God's spiritual chorus.

At the bottom is our base, animalistic urges,

the bony spur of reason.

Our ass?

Our mouth.

It only tastes sensual pleasure.

The ears and the mouth are in battle.

It's just in this case, in this moralistic fault line,

where the egg hatches,

it is born when we are born.

When we learn to walk, it learns to stretch its wings.

This creature is our righteousness.

Its spine is invertebrate purity.

It is the choice.

The choice to praise God.

The choice to do mitzvot.

It is the very essence of what it is to be uniquely human.

The divine choice.

Was leaving your wife and son divine choice?

Are you trying to hurt me, Isaac?

I'm just asking questions.

I thought you'd have a unique perspective.

Why?

Is it because I'm Black?

You can say it.

This has been on your mind, yeah?

Yeah.

Yeah, so what?

I'm racist 'cause I'm curious?

Your school computers weren't good?

Try no running water,

no clothing,

shelters that are hot and filled with young, hungry bodies.

You don't have it bad.

Why come with me with your self-pity?

Why tell me this disgusting story

about meeting strangers in bars?

Because I thought you'd understand.

I told you something deep within myself,

something I've kept buried my entire life...

because I trusted you,

and all you did was call my behavior abhorrent

just like everybody else.

I insulted you?

You've been judging me since the moment

I stepped through those doors.

Likewise.

See?

We're the same.

You come from a different place. So do I.

We're very different.

Why? Because you're Black? Okay!

Look, I know what it feels like to feel estranged,

to be trapped between worlds,

to be forced upon a skin that isn't you.

Come on, where's your spiritual intuition now?

I'm sorry about your loss.

Now I must ask you to leave.

You can leave the jacket by the door.

But what about our deal?

The youth group will finish the painting.

No! I know I have to get something off my chest.

I can't take any more sex stories.

Talk to a therapist.

I want to atone.

Look. Sixth grade camp.

Such an innocent face.

Yeah.

Yeah, it was all part of the act.

Back then, I was either...

sad or angry.

I bit a kid at camp for stealing my Lego.

I drew blood.

The diagnosis came quickly.

Borderline personality at age nine.

Lamotrigine and Clozapine cocktail at 10:45.

Lamotrigine is a...

It's an anticonvulsant used to treat extreme states

of anger and despair.

Keeps me numb.

I see people.

Imaginary people?

No. They're real.

Nagging memories from people who have left.

Hauntings from the past.

No.

Just my little brother.

He was there with the fifth graders.

You look different.

It was his favorite hat.

He liked to toss the ball around best he could.

But...

He had an enlarged heart.

How tragic.

Yeah. Some rare birth disorder I don't remember the name of.

Every morning, we'd play catch,

even when the snow stuck to our hair.

On weekends, we'd play in the evening.

Sometimes my hands would get so cold,

my hands would go numb.

And then we went to every game.

Season pass.

Didn't even matter if the Owls lost.

That all changed after I started the medicine.

It was like a cloud of numbness crept in through my nostrils,

into my lungs.

I slept through the days.

I lost weight. My bones shrank.

My skin felt like paper.

I breathed helium. I ate ozone.

I thought...

I felt like I could fly away at any moment.

People cannot fly.

It is not our nature.

Maybe all it takes is a big enough gust of wind.

I waited for a gusty day.

And then I climbed...

to the top of this building.

I wanted to see if I could lift off into the stratosphere,

where the air was so thin, just like my blood.

You're the boy that jumped off the roof.

There's your spiritual intuition.

Were you scared?

I've been scared my whole life.

The noise can get so overwhelming.

I just wanted it all to end.

So I closed my eyes.

I took one last step.

One broken leg and a bruised kidney

and a compressed vertebrae.

But I lived.

I guess I should be grateful.

I wrote a letter just in case.

"Dear Mom and Dad,

sorry for the trouble."

I left it on my bed before school.

Your life is not yours to extinguish.

Suicide is stealing from God's sovereignty.

Stealing?

Like a criminal.

Yeah, I guess that's why they locked me up.

Spent the next few years at the at-risk section of the hospital,

while I relearned how to walk,

and they watched my every move.

Limited visitation.

Couldn't even go outside without supervision.

A solitary existence.

Not quite.

Oh, when I was first admitted the hospital,

I had this doctor with beady pigeon eyes, who...

She kept rubbing them with the back of her hands,

like a sleepy infant.

I thought she was blind with fake glass eyes,

and she saw through a little hidden camera in her pen pocket.

Isaac, I'm Dr. Rodricks.

I'm here to let you know that you had a bad fall.

Now you're in critical condition.

I'm gonna be sending you to the ICU.

You've fractured the neck of your left femoral head,

and your T11 and T12 vertebral spine.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

I also had a medical scare.

I had a heart attack.

When?

On my 35th birthday.

Really?

What, were you doing blow or something?

My wife and I, we were in the middle of celebrating.

I see.

Must've been one hell of a celebration.

Yes, it was.

So young to have heart issues.

Just like my little brother.

You should lay off the pork, Rabbi.

I thought you're supposed to stay kosher.

The doctor said it was stress-induced.

I have high blood pressure.

Maybe we shouldn't take life so seriously.

I know what it's like to be in the hospital.

You feel so helpless.

And the white coats, they don't care.

They're just trying to help.

They made me... They made me feel

like I belonged in one of those science kits for kids.

You feel rejected too.

A Black rabbi. It must be hard for some people to accept.

You're the one that keeps bringing it up.

Yeah, that's because I know how it feels.

Wait, that came out wrong.

I...

I'm not racist.

I'm not.

I love Black people. I...

When I was a baby, I had a nanny.

She was Black, and she had, um, she had large hips.

I admire the African-American female.

They age elegantly like, um, like oak trees.

The rest of us, we just whither away into the ground.

I offended you again. I'm sorry.

Ah, the doctor say I lack empathy.

It's part of my diagnosis.

My brain lacks like something fundamental.

A tether.

It seems quite attached to that picture.

Kept me company in the hospital.

Slept right under my pillow.

The ink is fading

Must've rubbed off on my sleep.

Almost forgot what he looked like.

When did you see him again?

After I was discharged.

But I was gone so long.

It's like he was a different person.

People age. They...

Evolve. Like germs.

I expected to come back to the person in the picture.

But he felt like a stranger to me.

So I...

So I treated him like one.

He wanted to play catch, and I refused.

Instead, I went up into my bedroom,

and I slept until sundown.

And when he didn't come home,

my parents had me help look for him.

I found him.

Outside.

Face up in the ashen snow.

Eyes frozen open, looking right up at me.

Heart attack.

A little boy.

His ventricles burst like a balloon.

I killed my brother.

What was his name?

Hiram.

It is not your fault, Isaac.

The Tanakh says our days are determined.

Do you know what I felt when I saw him?

I touched his face.

It didn't feel like skin.

My spirit was alloy.

Not a single tear.

I hid under the kitchen table during the funeral.

I didn't want my family to see my dry face.

You were in shock.

My own brother was dead, and I felt nothing.

It was like I was on autopilot.

How can I feel nothing?

I am not human.

I am not alive!

It was the drugs you were taking.

Or I'm a monster.

I hurt people.

My own family.

You mind?

Doctors say I need to watch my caloric intake.

I have low blood sugar.

How much do you weigh?

That's a personal question.

In Ethiopia, we didn't know when our next meal will come,

so we ate whatever we could.

You're not about to give me the whole

starving-kids-in-Africa spiel, are you?

Okay, I get it. I don't appreciate what I got.

I'm not grateful.

Well, Rabbi, this is America.

Nobody appreciates anything.

Do you even eat? You're tiny for your age.

Rude.

I'm not anorexic, if that's what you're thinking.

I mean, look at you. You're like a sculpture.

Don't worry.

You're not my type.

You want one? I always carry a spare.

This won't do.

No.

This won't do it all.

Ah.

You found my sugar stash.

I was saving that for the drive home.

Well, it's like our own Jewish picnic.

They're good. Try 'em.

You don't really have any place to sleep tonight?

What about a motel?

No money.

You know where you get your next meal?

My mom and I aren't exactly on speaking terms.

She wasn't the same after Hiram died.

She was like a ghost.

Three weeks after the funeral, it's Memorial Day weekend.

You know, my house, Memorial Day is...

Mom's brisket and gravy.

It's a tradition. Secret recipe.

But that night,

we're having takeout fried chicken.

Such a pathetic sight.

So we're all sitting around the table,

and it's so quiet, you could practically hear

the crappy mashed potatoes go hard.

Nobody's saying a word, and she's just glaring at me.

And so I reach over to get another wing of original recipe,

and I accidentally knock over my soda,

spilling it onto the table.

My dad gets up to get a towel,

and all of a sudden, my mom just grabs my arm.

"Why did you do that?"

She kept saying, "Why did you do that?"

My dad tried prying her off of me,

and then they start getting into it,

and I'd never seen my parents fight like that before.

And she packed her bags and left two days before my birthday.

She didn't come to your father's burial.

Of course not.

Classic narcissist,

Know anything about narcissism, Rabbi?

I've heard the story of Narcissus.

Oh.

The Greek dude who was so in love with his own reflection,

he drowned trying to fuck himself?

The official medical diagnosis isn't too far from that.

How do you know this?

You're not the only one who likes to read.

They see people as tools.

Things to be used and thrown into the trash.

They're good actors.

That's what makes them scary.

But behind all that charm, it's just an empty void.

Electrical signals in a sack of meat.

People like this do not exist.

Sure they do. Just look at the White House.

Narcissists are the worst.

We only exist to serve them.

I must have inherited some of her shit

'cause my brain is just as poisoned.

And Dr. Rodricks called it borderline personality disorder.

Should be called borderline person disorder.

You don't lack empathy.

You shared your snacks with me.

What'd I tell you about acting?

Maybe it was just so I could get the soda.

But maybe these pills is making you feel this...

deafness towards people.

Yeah. Yeah, right.

I mean, that's what I thought too, but...

But...

I didn't take my meds with me to Israel.

I was so doped up for Hiram's funeral, I...

I just wanted the pure experience this time.

And... at first it was okay.

Everything was fine.

I said hi to family I hadn't seen in over a decade.

Everyone seemed so surprised

I wasn't still locked up in a loony bin.

My Uncle Schlomo, he kept patting me on the head, saying,

"How are you feeling?" Just like Dr. Rodricks.

It was...

I kept it together.

I kept it together.

Till I saw my father being lowered into the ground,

and then...

And then the noise started to return.

- And I felt... - Sad.

Angry.

I wanted to deck somebody.

Anybody!

Especially my Uncle Schlomo.

I just... I needed to get out of there.

And so I just hopped on a bus,

and I went to the Wailing Wall.

Seems appropriate.

It was packed that day.

God seemed like He was being particularly vengeful,

and I'm walking along the wall,

and the noise is getting so unbearable,

I just wanted it to stop, and...

I see this little Hasidic man all by himself,

and he's standing there, shuckling in deep prayer.

And then all of the sudden, he snaps out of it.

And he looks at me right in the eye.

Looks me right in the eyes,

and he smiles.

"Don't worry.

Next year will be better," he says.

And the noise stopped.

Is it still gone?

No.

Oh, it only lasted...

ten seconds.

But in those few seconds, I...

I felt...

Peace.

Yeah.

And then the anger returned.

Anger is a feeling.

It's just a part of mourning.

Yeah, but the point is, I didn't feel sad.

See, it wasn't the medicine.

I don't care about people close to me.

I didn't cry at my father's funeral.

It is not late to mourn.

You're probably in shock.

I didn't cry when my brother died either.

I...

I haven't shed a single tear in 15 years.

I'm dead.

I am spiritually bereft.

But you went to Israel for your father

because you cared about him deeply.

You go to baseball games to dignify him.

Merely ritualistic comforts.

I mean, you should understand that.

I'm not even 30 years old,

and I've already lost two of my closest family members.

And tonight I'll be the third.

You're speaking of ending your life.

I've tried it once before.

Maybe this time, I'll finished the job.

On Kol Nidre?

Right before the start of the New Year,

when God decides if He'll write you into his book of life.

Thought it'd make a good end chapter.

Nothing could be more heinous!

One who commits suicide willfully

is not attended to at all.

One does not mourn for or make any lamentation for him.

Refusing to mourn.

Why does that sound so familiar?

Such wrathful punishment.

Very Old Testament.

What if there was a man who...

who didn't fit in with the world?

His thoughts were broken, like bits of lead,

and when he spoke, he spit metallic words.

Fixed into a drug-induced wax marionette,

so that he's not flung between extremes of anger and sadness.

He takes handfuls of pills just so we can stop the noise,

but it only makes him numb.

What if this man can't find his place in the world,

so he decides he's going to remove himself from it?

Would God make an exception for a person like that?

The Tanakh says...

God has set before you life and death,

the blessing and the curse.

Therefore, choose life.

Deuteronomy.

Will you stop reciting ancient text at me

and just speak to me like a real human being?

This is as real as I get, Isaac!

I don't believe you!

How did your dog Golda pass?

Canine cancer.

And did you watch her suffer,

or did you put her out of her misery?

'Cause isn't that the compassionate thing to do?

People are different from animals.

God gave us a soul,

a moral compass,

an ability to decide from wrong and right.

What about, what about the mentally ill?

Do we have a soul?

The Talmud says such an individual

cannot be held responsible for their actions.

Jewish law applies to people.

Personhood requires consciousness of one's actions.

I am not a person.

You just proved my point.

- That is not what I'm saying! - Then what are you saying?

It's complicated.

Not everything is black or white.

Just like free will.

There's a lot of hypocrisy in Jewish law.

That is because we never stopped searching for answers, Isaac.

We welcome debate.

The very word "Israel" means "one who wrestles."

Which side are you on?

God's.

Truth.

The truth is...

I am already dead.

I... shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here.

There's a flaw in God's creation,

and I'm gonna correct it.

I am choosing this. Divine choice.

But first I need the Mourner's Kaddish.

You want me to give you permission to kill yourself?

I want your blessing,

But I don't need it.

I can go up to the roof right now.

- No! You cannot do this! - It's my decision!

God has a plan!

Did He plan for the death of your son?

He's dead, right?

That's why you hold on to those things.

How'd he die, Rabbi? By fire or water?

Hunger or thirst?

Sword or beast?

Rabbi.

Rabbi!

They murdered my son.

He was caught in an explosion.

Palestinian car bomb.

He was only six.

My Elad!

That's why you left.

You couldn't bear the pain.

Give me the keys!

Not till I get what I came for.

I cannot provide you what you need!

The Mourner's Kaddish is a prayer to honor the dead.

Maybe exceptions can be made.

Jews are in constant motion. You said it yourself.

It is not up to me to decide your fate.

I want to finally be free.

Why would you deny me that?

It is law.

Maybe laws can change with age. Like people.

You've never felt abandoned?

No.

Forgotten?

No.

Liar!

What is this?

A rabbi's not supposed to lie.

What do you want me to say, huh?

That I feel rejected, even in my own land?

All my life, I've searched for a home.

From Africa to the Middle East.

From the Third World to America.

Ethiopia discarded me at birth.

Israel took me in,

but the world look upon the Jewish state

with fear and disgust.

My own boy,

my own flesh and blood was taken away by people who want to...

deny me of my existence!

I even had to leave my own wife.

A piece of shrapnel got lodged in Elad's neck.

He was in a coma for five days before there...

When the blood builds up in an artery.

Hemorrhage.

I held him in my arms as he took his last breath.

When they pronounced him dead,

I left the hospital, and I told my wife

I was going to the synagogue,

and I wouldn't be home for hours.

But you didn't go to temple.

I walked...

and I walked.

And I walked.

His blood was on my clothes.

I wasn't even thinking about my actions. I...

I felt like I was outside my own body.

- On autopilot. - Yes.

Then I felt a jolt against my shoulder.

This man was heading in the opposite direction.

He bumped me, and he kept walking.

I shouted at him to stop, but he didn't.

So I ran after this man.

I grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.

He was Muslim.

I looked into his eyes, and all... I could see was...

I demanded an apology.

I demanded my boy back.

And I begged! I begged!

He spat at me.

So I struck him.

He fell to the ground like a...

like a sack of wet cement.

- Did he... - He was fine.

I got him some help.

Just a few stitches.

I was in such despair, and all I could...

I mean, the only way I could see things was...

Was through anger.

I've always been a good person.

A devout person.

You said personhood requires a consciousness of actions.

Maybe...

in that moment you were so overwhelmed

that you didn't realize what you were doing.

You weren't really alive.

The congregation did not share that sentiment.

They gathered outside my home in Or-Akiva.

"Send him to Africa!" they chanted.

The rabbinical counsel gave me an ultimatum.

I was to either stay and have my title stripped,

or I could go to America

and help with the underprivileged there.

They did not want me in Israel.

This much was certain,

not with the Jewish and Muslim relations

as bad as they are now.

Not much of a fair proposition.

And your wife?

I send all my earnings back home to her.

I still see Elad.

How often?

All the time.

All... the time.

Hauntings from the past.

Uh, when you slugged that Muslim man,

did you break his nose?

I broke the rules, Isaac.

God's rules.

I did it once. I am not doing it again.

You've been trying to assuage your guilt ever since.

Atonement is a heavy burden to bear.

Is that what I am to you?

A way to free yourself of your own guilt?

You're wrong, Rabbi.

The idea that you're responsible for your brother's death

eats away at you inside.

Not about that.

You're wrong about the number of times you've broken the rules.

It wasn't just that once.

What are you talking about?

When you were a boy.

You gave that dying man water.

You defied your family,

even at the cost of your own safety.

- That was different. - You're right.

You knew it was the right thing to do.

It's when you saw the true face of God.

Be compassionate.

Give me a mitzvah.

God's rules are different from man's.

That is absolute,

100% sanctimonious bullshit!

Some twisted narrative to make sense of your own problems,

just like your fucking homophobic shit

that you blame on a religion.

You scare me, Isaac.

Well, this is a real Isaac!

Unmedicated, angry, immoral, dirty,

dangerous...

I can't breathe.

What's wrong?

I told him to take the bus that day.

I was too busy studying the Torah to protect my boy.

Rabbi! Oh, shit.

Oh, shit. Okay, okay.

I need an ambulance now.

No. There's someone having a heart attack, I think.

Yeah, yeah, he's still breathing.

We're at the synagogue.

What do you mean? The synagogue.

Okay, okay, yeah. Hurry, please. Thank you.

Hey, hey.

Rabbi.

Keep fighting.

Promise me you'll keep... you'll keep fighting.

You... You're crying, Isaac.

Yeah, because I'm freaked out.

Only God knows how and when.

Sh'ma...

yisrael...

adonai eloheinu,

adonai echad.

Sh'ma...

yisrael...

adonai eloheinu,

adonai...

echad.

You remember the words.

Your father would be proud.

So would your son.

Make me a proposition, yeah?

I'm listening.

I'll give you the Mourner's Kaddish.

You have to promise me you keep fighting.

Please don't leave.

There is no place for me either.

I have tried finding answers in Israel.

I've tried praying.

I have asked God to fix my broken brain

more times than I can count.

I never got an answer.

Me too, Isaac.

We are endlessly voyaging nomads.

My brother and I, when we were little kids,

we had this, this goy babysitter,

who would tell us stories about purgatory.

She said that it was a place, but not really a place.

It's sort of like a dream

in that you didn't really know you were there.

And you stayed in this place as long as it took

for you to learn something.

Time and space didn't even matter.

Do you think that's what it's like after you die?

Mm.

Judaism has no clear picture of the afterlife.

It doesn't matter how things end.

It only matters how it begins.

What was it like...

before it all began?

Ah.

Brown.

Earthy.

Fresh.

The sun hangs low in the orange dusk

like a celestial disc.

A current of essence in the air.

It surges with every beat of your heart.

Uh...

The ground is soft,

but crisp,

like crushed ice.

You can see the Wailing Wall from there too,

stretched into eternity.

Souls gather around its edges...

bobbing like luminescent water reeds.

Busch Stadium is right next to it.

Every seat is filled with them.

And Hiram is there.

My son Elad.

And my son Elad.

Elad!

Every child is there.

Every one that was ever born.

Free from sickness.

And conflict.

One community.

A family.

A home.

I see it.

I see it, and I want to be there.

Are you ready, Isaac?

Yitgadal v'yitkadash

sh'mei raba

b'alma di-v'ra chirutei,

v'yamlich malchutei

b'chayeichon uvyomeichon

uvchayei d'chol beit yisrael,

ba'agala uvizman kariv,

v'im'ru: amen.

Y'hei sh'mei raba m'varach

l'alam ul'almei almaya.

Yitbarach v'yishtabach,

v'yitpa'ar v'yitromam v'yitnaseh,

v'yithadar v'yit'aleh

v'yit'halal sh'mei d'kud'sha,

b'rich hu,

l'eila min-kol-birchata v'shirata,

tushb'chata v'nechemata da'amiran b'alma,

v'im'ru: amen.

Y'hei shlama raba min-sh'maya

v'chayim aleinu v'al-kol-yisrael,

v'im'ru: amen.

Hurry, hurry.

It's gonna be okay.

You say that you do not care,

that you do not love,

but you do.

You're a good man.

A good person.

Your brother knows this better than anyone.

I don't know what to do.

You want to live.

Kol Nidre is the last night before the Day of Atonement.

We choose to stay for a reason.

You want another chapter.

But I have nobody left.

Well, keep moving.

Wait.

Take this.

You keep this with you.

Always.

Thank you, Rabbi.

My name is Nate.

Where would you go?

Ethiopia!

The photograph.

Keep it.

Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull