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that delicious anticipation I always experienced before a show. When I was a kid my parents took me to all the Broadway musicals, and tonight the first bars of the score made me feel like a kid again, entranced by the magic of live theatre.
    Sheldon put his arm around me and gave me a little hug. I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling thrilled to be at the theatre with a real, live man for a change, instead of Charlene or my mother. OK, maybe not live, but certainly manly. We raptly watched as Klesmer, Yiddish folk and Russian gypsy music was transformed into one of the most gorgeous scores ever written.
    After about a half hour I noticed that Sheldon’s shoulders were shaking. I looked at his face and saw that it was twisted into a grimace and he was sobbing. He was making gasping, honking noises that I could see he was trying to stifle. There were no tears, however, certainly no bloody tears despite the myth about vampires crying blood. It was frightening to see. His hand gripped my shoulder so tightly it hurt, but I tried not to complain, he looked so miserable.
    “ What is it, Sheldon? What’s going on?” I was scared. I couldn’t imagine what was wrong. He’d seemed to be enjoying himself immensely just a minute earlier. He’d clapped wildly after every number.
    “ Anatevka, Anatevka… that was my home…I miss it so much. I had no idea how much until tonight,” he moaned.
    “ You came from Transylvania, not Russia, I whispered.” Anatevka was the fictional Russian shtetl in the show.
    “ Same thing. I miss the shtetl. I miss my family. I miss my wife and children. I miss Tevye.”
    “ Shhhh,” came whispers from behind us. We stopped talking and he put his head on my shoulder as I stroked his face and held his hand while he cried. I couldn’t help feeling a stab of jealousy although his wife and children were long dead. I had no idea what he meant by Tevye unless his town also had a Tevye. Eventually he stopped crying.
    “ Do you want to leave now?” I asked him at intermission.
    “ I wouldn’t leave for anything on earth,” he said dreamily. “I may come back every night. I feel like I’ve gone back in time, to when I was happy and part of a family—not lonely and hopeless.”
    “ Who is Tevye?”
    “ My father was named Tevye, believe it or not. He was a big, burly guy, like Tevye in the play, with a long grey beard and the bluest eyes. We lived in the town of Bresov where he was our rabbi and I was his successor. We used to dance in lines, just like in the show, we Hasids were into joy, into ecstasy, especially when we danced. I wish I could get up on that stage and dance—I’m a good dancer.”
    “ Maybe we could go dancing sometime,” I suggested. “I’m a good dancer too. I was once told I had ‘Jewish soul.’”
    “ The kind of dancing they do today is not exactly my style,” Sheldon said disapprovingly, putting his hand to his chin as though he were looking for a beard to stroke. I could see the stern rabbi in that face. “But I’m willing to try it,” he then said with an impish smile. I could see the joyous Hasid he once had been in that grin.
    We sat through the rest of the show holding hands, and I saw Sheldon stomping his foot during some of the more raucous musical numbers. He stopped crying and started laughing and clapping again.
    After the show we went back to my apartment, where Sheldon just wanted me to hold him. Tonight was not the night for hot sex, but for tenderness. I felt so bad for the poor guy, he’d been ripped from his beloved shtetl, transported to an alien land where he was stuck with a bloodlust he couldn’t always control. Of course all the Jews had to leave their homelands but at least they could start over, Sheldon couldn’t. We lay down with our arms around each other until I fell asleep. When I woke up it was 4am and Sheldon was gone. I supposed he wanted to get home before sunrise.

Chapter Five
     
     
    “ Hi Charlene,” I said chirpily