Kerestir! Yidden were streaming towards the small house. It was dark outside, and from the snippets of conversation, Baruch picked up that it was Motzei Shabbos. Baruch followed the throngs into Reb Shayala’s house and immediately felt at home.
There were several long tables set, and Yidden – all kinds of Yidden – were sitting down, about to begin Melava Malka. Baruch looked at the head of the table, expecting to see Reb Shayala, but instead he saw him, walking around, helping an older Yid find a seat, handing a challah roll to another. If Baruch had not recognized him, he wouldn’t have known he was the famous Tzadik! But something caught his eye. It was a few freshly made platters of… salmon. Salmon… he had seen salmon in the fridge in Mr. Shpeiter’s house… right before he went back in time. Could this be somehow related?
A fresh crowd of Yidden poured in. “Ah, the heiligeh train Yidden!” called out a short Yid. The feeling in the room was joyous and welcoming. As they sat, a Yid in a brown coat asked one of them, “Is there really a train stop for Kerestir? It’s such a small town!” The second man beamed. “Not officially. Reb Shayala tried to get a stop at least on Motzei Shabbos, but the officials didn’t listen. So… Reb Shayala took matters into his own hands. The next Motzei Shabbos, the train – for a reason the conductor could not understand – broke down as it passed through Kerestir! While the workers checked the engines, all of us got off the train, and as soon as we disembarked, the train started to move again! This happened every Motzei Shabbos from then on, and the officials sort of accepted that they shouldn’t “fight’ with Reb Shayala!” “Wow!” exclaimed the first man.
Baruch was riveted to the story. “But,” the second man said, “tonight we all got off the train, but the train wouldn’t budge! The officials were not pleased and started to frantically check the wheels, the engine, you name it! One worker, though, knew it wasn’t a regular engine failure. He went through the whole train, and in the back of the train, he found Beryl, who was fast asleep! He woke him up and asked, ‘Are you heading to Kerestir?’ Groggily, Beryl nodded yes. ‘So get off! This is your stop!’ Beryl stumbled off the train, and I saw this with my own eyes – as soon as his boots hit the ground of the station – the train lurched forward! Ahh, the koach of the Tzadik! L’chaim!” said the second man, raising a cup of schnapps. Baruch was floored. He looked around the room. Reb Shayala was shuffling to his seat. Borscht with potatoes, fresh hot rolls, and wine lined the tables. Reb Shayala washed and sat down at his seat. He started a niggun, and everyone joined in. The song grew faster and faster, until everyone stood and began to dance! When the dancing died down, Reb Shayala began to tell a story about the great Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk. Baruch wished he could stay, but he began to feel that spinning sensation. As he started to spin, he caught one more glance of that special Melava Malka salmon on the table – was it winking at him?
Baruch landed back in Mr. Shpeiter’s kitchen. He was staring into the fridge. But wait! Under the fish in the fridge! A small note!
To be continued…
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 33 Red Shayele Yahrtzeit Edition.