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Breaking Free
A NovelRiva Pomerantz
Breaking Free
A young adult in limbo.
A family in turmoil.
From the smoky depths of the pool hall and the harsh reality of street life, Avrumie Faber is finally home.
Sounds idyllic? Hardly.
Avrumie needs to break free of the chains that tie him to the past and rebuild his life from scratch — and he needs his family’s help.
After years of tension and misunderstanding, can they work together to help him forge a new path?
From bestselling author Riva Pomerantz, this powerful story is the sequel to Breaking Point, one of the first books to address the tragic subject of “kids at risk.” Contemporary, relevant, and painfully honest, Breaking Free explores how to delicately rebuild an entire family, portraying an array of true-to-life characters as they hurtle through very real challenges, and giving voice to emotions and thoughts of such force that the reader will instantly become part of the plot.
Book Excerpt from Breaking Free
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Breaking Free
Riva Pomerantz, bestselling author of Mishpacha's Green Fences, presents Breaking Free, a captivating adult Jewish novel - for Jewish teens too - about tough choices & challenges with her trademark style & flair.
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“Uh, Abba, can I speak to you in the kitchen, please,” Dina asked bravely.
Ephraim rose, but the expression on his face was thunderous. “We are not going to the park to watch Avrumie play basketball on a Shabbos afternoon,” he hissed as soon as they reached the kitchen. “Nothing doing. The open discussion was great. The sharing feelings was wonderful. But chilul Shabbos is where we draw the line. Nothing to talk about, Dina. Shabbos is Shabbos, and finished.” Dina nodded.
“I hear what you're saying, Ephraim, ” she said fervently. She paused. “But are you sure it's really chilul Shabbos?” Ephraim started. If there was one thing that had characterized their entire marriage it was her absolute trust in his integrity and guidance. Never had Dina so much as questioned him on matters of halachah or hashkafah. He felt the anger rise in him, an unfamiliar feeling in their relationship.
“Now you're going to have me believe that playing basketball on Shabbos is perfectly okay?” he almost shouted, forgetting the children in the next room. “Of course it's chilul Shabbos, Dina, what do you think? The Shemiras Shabbos K'Hilchasa recommends it as a Shabbos’dik activity?! Have you lost your mind?” His hands trembled with fury. Dina’s entire body was tense, absorbing the blows of Ephraim’s anger. But there was a steeliness to her eyes, something new that had never been there before. It wasn't that she doubted him; it was just that her gut instinct was to make a one-time exception and go get Avrumie from the park. And she wasn't going to back down.
“It's not that I think it’s Shabbos’dik,” she said softly. “It's just that this might be an opportunity to have a real turning point with Avrumie, and I want you to consider it logically instead of emotionally.” He glanced at her sharply.
“Me? Emotional? I don't know what you're talking about!” he snapped, and if it had been any scenario other than this, she would have giggled at the expression on his face and the denial in his voice. But clearly this was no laughing matter. Ephraim Faber's feathers were ruffled, and he didn't like it one bit.
“What would Binyomin Woolf say?” she asked, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them.
“Since when is Binyomin Woolf my posek, Dina?" he asked rhetorically.
“Guidance and chinuch suggestions are all well and good, but when it comes to Shabbos, I think I'd prefer to ask someone who really knows, thank you very much.”
Suddenly he sighed, a weary sigh.
“I don't know what to do,” he said, and his voice sounded very tired and very old. “I don't know what I'm fighting for any more. I really don't. And when I find my wife opposing me, I really don't know where I'm going. Maybe you're right, Dina. Maybe it's okay, just this once.”
She winced to hear the pain in his voice. But she was sure of the feeling inside her. Certain that this would be right.
“If we go, it's on your cheshbon,” he said.
Her pulse quickened, but she stood her ground.
“So be it.”
He looked at her with in disbelief, but perhaps there was just the faintest hint of admiration in his eyes.
“You’re a good mommy, ” he said. “Let's go.”
Chapter 8
Thud, thud, thud, slam.
The ball felt good in his hands. The rhythm of the dribbling echoed through him in sync with the pounding of his heart. It was cleansing, in a way, to be part of such a vibrant, living sound. Just him, the ball, and the net. The sky above was a huge canopy, washing over the court with its pure light. He lifted the ball high, rocked up on his toes, and sent it flying towards the hoop. Beautiful shot!
If only life were as simple as a game of basketball, Avrumie thought wistfully. It would be so much easier that way. In basketball, there were concrete rules that made a lot of sense. There was teamplay — people who would actually help you fight against your opponents. There was a definite goal, too — shoot and score. It would be so much simpler if that was the way life was set up.
Try complaining to the Management, he thought wryly.
The Management, as it were, did not seem to be very interested in the fact that he, Avrumie Faber, was a lost cause. He had no interest in doing any of the myriad things that had been offered to him, including stocking a warehouse, working in construction, and dogsitting. That last job offer was a real doozer! Imagine that: Avrumie Faber, formerly a top yeshivah bachur, being asked to draw upon his every talent to earn a few bucks cleaning up after Poochie! A riot. An absolute comedy.
Except it wasn’t so funny.
He set up another shot, determined.
Whoooshh — it fell cleanly through the net.
If only life were that easy.
Shaya Polsky’s elaborate rejection had come on the heels of another beautiful encounter. Funny the way things worked. The first familiar person he’d met since leaving the pool scene was Shmuel Gross, a former classmate and friend. It had been only a few months since he’d last spoken to Shmuel, but it seemed like forever. Apparently, Shmuel had felt the same way. As Avrumie approached him, eager to revisit their old friendship, he realized exactly what Shmuel thought of their bond. Goodie-Two-Shoes Gross turned his head away decisively and crossed over to the other side of the street, glancing around him quickly to make sure no one had seen him being approached by Enemy Number One.
Make that Sheigitz Number One, Avrumie mused bitterly.
He was an outcast. Those men who had welcomed him in to be part of a minyan the other day didn’t realize that he was branded. They never would have allowed him to comprise their minyan if they had only known of his reputation and his contaminated record. Had they spoken to one of the Shmuel Grosses of the world, they would never have even looked at him, much less counted him as a member of klal Yisrael!
It was depressing, really. He had left the pool scene — left a thriving social life — to actually do a form of, well, teshuvah. And now, he was being rejected by the other side. What was he to do? Where was he to go?
Buy Breaking Point by Riva Pomerantz at an online discount at www.targum.com.