Sunday, November 1, 2015
Everything is Bashert, by Heywood Gould
I have a story in this book, but let's talk about Mr. Gould's. If Yiddish writer I.B. Singer collaborated with my pal R.T. Lawton on one of the latter's Holiday Burglar stories, the latter might be something like "Everything is Bashert." Lawton's heroes are a couple of burglars whose brilliant plans always go to sheol. Gould's Franny and Larson are two petty lowlifes who like to spend their days at Aquaduct.
And it is at that race track one day that they run into a hasidic gentleman they call the rabbi (he isn't). The rabbi has a Bible-based system for betting on the horses, a sure thing of course, and yet somehow he is short of money. Go figure. Our heroes lend him some cash and, well, a wild ride commences that involves among other things, breaking into a morgue, and ends with a sort of spiritual enlightment.
"We're committing a mortal sin."
"Not our first. Might as well get rich doing it."
A treat from start to finish.