Disobedience Page #3

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- Yeah, that's the other thing.

- I'm sorry, I love my son.

This is his

own father talking.

- Yeah, what do you think?

- I love him.

So our youngest, Basha,

just had her second boy.

And they named him Daniel, for my father.

Ah, mazel tov.

They live in Australia.

It's too far.

Melbourne.

Thirty-seven grandchildren!

- Mazel tov.

- Not bad.

We saw your photos

in a magazine.

It was the pictures of the

twins that you showed us.

But they

called you Ronnie Curtis?

That's my

professional name.

What was wrong with

your real name, Krushka?

You should be proud of it.

Artists change

their names sometimes,

- don't they, Moshe?

- That's right, Fruma.

Women change

their names every day.

They take their

husband's names

and their own

history is gone.

Don't they?

I wouldn't talk

about "gone."

Not gone.

Yes, they do.

Ronit,

you look so like

your mother.

Oh, don't start!

Hasn't she got Leah's eyes,

don't you think, Moshe?

Yeah, she's got

beautiful eyes.

- Oh, she's a beauty.

- Uncle...

Your dear sister

was taken far too soon.

And now the Rav.

This must be a terrible

shock for you, Ronit.

You're away, it's a shock.

Of course it is.

We never thought

we'd see you again.

Sorry to disappoint you.

Ronit...

- More coffee?

- Oh, no. No thanks.

I'd love to talk to you about the house,

though, at some point, Uncle.

Yeah, sorry.

Come to the office.

- We'll talk about it there.

- All right.

You know, you must take your

mother's candlesticks, Ronit.

From the house.

Yes, of course, and then

- you must give them to your children.

- Oh, I don't want children.

I'm not having children.

You keep them and then

you pass them on.

Yes. Yes. I want

to sell the house, Uncle.

Do you think you can help me to sell it?

No, please.

- Not now.

- I'm gonna need some help, though.

- Yes, but not... Ronit...

- Sorry.

How old were you, Dovid,

when the Rav took

you in and taught you?

Thirteen, was it?

Mmm... Yeah.

Twelve, thirteen.

Dovid has been

doing great work.

Wonderful work.

Wonderful work.

A lot has changed

since you were here.

There's a lot of problems.

Housing, and jobs...

The youth.

Even an incident with drugs.

Perhaps people should stop

having so many children.

It's nothing we

cannot deal with.

And you're not married.

You must find

someone, Ronit.

- It's not funny growing old alone.

- Oh, well I'm rarely alone.

I've got wonderful friends.

I expect you have lots of fun.

But that will pass.

But being married, well,

that's the way

it should be.

Oh, is it?

The way it should be?

Or is it just

institutional obligation?

Now, Ronit,

stop right there.

I mean, Uncle,

let's just say

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