As the junior class slowly earned their driver's licenses, a great number immediately set about finding ways to utilize their new power. Some snuck out during lunch periods when the parking lot was unguarded, returning late to class smelling of fast food. Many spent their weekends exploring their region's natural bounty, vast beaches and hiking trails; through the bonds of shared sweat, unbreakable friendships formed.

Weekend parties at beaches were frequent, or "bonfires" as they were known: a few hours before the party began, the leaders would assemble and stack piles of wood gathered from the beach or bought at the store, making artful arrangements layered with newspaper, and with the early winter sunset the blaze began, coursing through channels in the wood and producing tendrils of smoke. More and more students would arrive and set up chairs circling the fire, upon which they would make offerings of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate squares to consecrate the space. Tom let out a mild obscenity when he discovered upon disembarking that he had left his potato chips at home.

"Regina, did you bring the snacks?"

"You were supposed to, Tom!"

"Don't talk back to me!" Tom snapped. Before they had left from Tom's house, they scoured Tom's kitchen for anything that would make the party more awesome. Regina originally did not want to go, and knew perfectly well her parents would not allow it, so she had lied and told them they were seeing a movie. After gathering what supplies they could, Tom looked outside and saw the sky's gray threatening to turn dark, and so he announced solemnly that it was time to leave. They bid his house adieu, and so they drove on toward death in the cooling twilight.

Regina searched the small trunk of Tom's car again, but found no portal to an eldritch dimension from which she could retrieve the potato chips. It was clear that the fault lay with Tom, but no matter; these bonfires were communal events, and others had plenty to share. They idly chatted for what seemed like hours, feet scraping in the sand, until enough people arrived and Louis, the host, saw fit to truly get the party started. Louis opened his cooler and pulled out a rack of tubes, and jokingly shushed his girlfriend before she could ask where he got such a large amount—it must have cost him a pretty penny, but good friends deserved as much.

"I didn't know this was going to be that sort of party," Regina quietly remarked to Tom. As Tom turned his head toward Regina, his face changed from a pallid yellow to infernal red due to the angle of the light, which still flickered fiercely.

"I didn't either, but we are here now, and it would be most rude to decline Louis's hospitality! With how much Alan charges, you know this was a great sacrifice."

"Wait, how is Alan involved?" Regina asked hesitantly, her hand trembling.

"He sells this stuff all over the school, haven't you noticed? It's all very scientific, he said, and he promised me it was all completely safe. You're so blind sometimes, it's adorable."

When everyone got their vial, some still not quite sure what exactly they were drinking, Louis counted to three and they all drank the contents in a big gulp. Regina, having never done this before, and having not really wanted to until everyone else started, expected an instant hit of nausea or giddiness; she did not expect something slightly vegetal, perhaps metallic, and more befitting of Jamba Juice than a cooler Louis pulled out of his truck. Most of the others were laughing, or staring into the flickering embers and thinking they saw sprites dance, or gazing mouth agape at the beautiful starry sky. She shook the vial again, hoping to find some last drops that would provide the promised effect, but nothing. Tom told her yet another joke about coffee and she chuckled as conditioned—but, she thought, was that what she was supposed to do? Everyone was having a fun time, and she enjoyed the company, so she stayed quiet about her lack of reaction. Perhaps she should ask Alan, she thought, what exactly it was that she drank, but whatever it was, it clearly wasn't poison.

In a fit of whimsy, someone began drumming on a piece of wood before them, creating a hollow beat that sped and slowed at random. Others joined in, some humming and chanting along with the beat, the ones without suitably acoustic pieces of driftwood clapping instead. A few stood up and began to dance and sway; Tom stood along with the others and pulled Regina up with him, who almost fell back down again due to the sudden movement until he steadied her. They danced around the fire, footwork uneven, the most musically inclined singing the themes of waltzes they knew, and the spectacle continued until the fire ran out of fuel. In the darkness, Regina could not be for certain that the sand-scoured hand grasping hers or the salty breath bearing down upon her was Tom's if not for his distinctive giddy whoops.

"That was awesome," Tom concluded as he drove Regina home, seemingly not concerned about any inebriation despite her protests.

"What did you feel?"

"It was like I was looking at the world through a kaleidoscope. Everything burst with color, the flames and the sand and the dark ocean water and especially you, babe. You looked prettier than usual." Regina giggled; compliments never failed to please her.

"And you looked especially dashing, my little cavalier. But," she said, snapping out of her fit of fancy, "did you feel different? Enlightened?"

"I don't know, I just felt more connected. It's hard to describe, but you know what I mean." Sounded healthy enough, Regina thought. "I wonder if Alan could get me some. I bet I could vape it. I need a vape pen." Regina nodded, and tried to change the subject before Tom could reveal any sort of moral deficiency. They then enjoyed the silent dark road as Tom's car snaked through the trees. Regina's parents wanted to know when she came home a bit later than usual how the movie was; they did not seem concerned, just curious.

"It was an interesting sight," she lied, and she went to bed earlier than usual. Dancing left her exhausted.

Regina couldn't hold her tongue after the party's weirdness, and after a weekend largely spent trying to cleanse her mind still needed to vent to somebody. Monday morning, Regina gave Tom the obligatory kiss on the cheek as they went their separate ways from the parking lot (Tom sometimes was self-conscious about being seen always with Regina, generally whenever they had minor tiffs; by the end of the day, it was as if nothing happened). She walked up the steps with slightly more haste than usual, looking for any friendly shoulder to dump her woes on—even John would do, as he was at least a good listener. She didn't have to resort to the nuclear option, as Beth and Juliet came around the corner out of the hallway, almost crashing into her.

"You wouldn't believe what happened to me over the weekend. Did you hear what happened?" Regina exclaimed in a frenzy, checking her phone to make sure she had time before class to rant.

"Let me guess, you were at the bonfire with the dancing," Beth remarked with a tinge of disdain.

"How did you know there was dancing? Oh God, that meant you must have seen me—I promise that I wasn't on drugs. I think it's a placebo or something, it tastes like vegetables and not marijuana, not that I'd know what marijuana ought to taste like. They're such apes."

"Someone there, I think Stanley, recorded a video, and he may have sent it to, uh, a lot of people. Check your Snapchat."

"But I'm not done. Tom pressured me into it. I don't know why he would do something so foolish like this. I've always thought him upstanding."

"Appearances can be deceiving, Regina."

"Tom is never deceiving. Just because your boyfriends all lie to you doesn't mean anything. Have I mentioned yet that Louis was there?"

"Don't you dare bring them into this. You aren't my mother!" Before Beth could even hint that Tom could be more generally problematic, Juliet characteristically refusing to pass any harsh judgment, Tom wandered over to them as chipper as he could be. Beth didn't think it wise to continue her moral support in his presence, and thus mumbled an excuse and walked away. Juliet saw Frank going somewhere with a newspaper and also took the opportunity to make a hasty exit. "Are they scared of me?" Tom asked Regina, who chuckled like he said a funny joke not remotely rooted in reality.

Regina's tiredness still lingered, and she yawned frequently as she walked toward the theater for their mandatory academic planning assembly. The students assembled outside the doors as usual, all but the class officers, who stood inside not knowing exactly how they were supposed to expedite any procedures involved. One of them had found some cheap bagged pretzels in a cabinet somewhere, and had passed them to her peers besides Frank, who politely refused. Tom was nowhere to be seen, so Regina chose to sit next to John in the front row.

"It's been a while since we've talked, hasn't it?" Regina asked kindly, watching John struggle to operate his seat.

"I suppose it has. How does this thing work again?" John responded, and Regina leaned over to unsuccessfully troubleshoot his problem. She picked up a plastic part that presumably fell off his chair and presented it to him, which he turned over in his hand perplexedly. "I suppose I'll just have to sit on the floor then."

"There are plenty of seats still available elsewhere. I'll go with you, otherwise you'll have to sit alone. I guess I would be sitting alone too if I don't move," Regina admitted, and they walked to the back row. The students sitting to their sides looked at each other and shrugged. They didn't know each other either.

"I have a video somewhere on my phone of freshman year in Ms. Baldwin's class, did you know that? Remember our Romeo and Juliet performance?" she asked when they were comfortably situated in their functional seats.

"Juliet performed in a play? I thought she was in the dance recital along with you."

"No, silly, in English class. She was there too, and Beth. Don't you remember?"

"I think I do, now that you mention it."

"I guess they were all there. Let me confess something to you: I'm kind of avoiding Beth right now. We had a little disagreement this morning. Nothing major, but I think we need some time to cool off."

"Oh, the party! Beth didn't lie!"

"What, she told you too? That little—uh—senator!"

"Yeah, freshman year, she told me that at parties people danced naked and flew on witch's brooms. I thought that was common knowledge."

"She must have been messing with you. I thought she was talking about, well, I don't think anyone was naked, but Tom and I also left a bit early. I think they were getting the fire going again as we were leaving. I guess I can't deny that for sure, John, but I don't recall ever being naked." John nodded like he understood. "You know, I miss the simplicity of freshman year. I never had to talk about these sorts of impolite topics. I didn't even have to talk to Tom."

"Why would you want to go back to freshman year? Think of all the things you know now that you didn't before. You must be wiser, you must be smarter, you must be so many other things that you were not then."

"John, oh dearest John, you are such an innocent. I envy that. The nice thing about freshman year was that I could have flights of fancy without worrying those would lead to drugs and sex. I remember when I thought the height of impropriety was holding hands in public."

"That is very close to the height of impropriety, though. Maybe you haven't learned anything after all," John said deadpan.

"You've held my hand before, you've held Juliet's hand before, and I'm sure you've held Beth's hand before. Unless you're going to seriously criticize yourself for moral depravity, you may want to rethink that." John looked at his own hand with disgust, holding it in front of him as he curled his fingers; Regina reached out and grabbed it, and looked at him with a grin. "You've sinned again. Congratulations." John recoiled, seemingly terrified, and Regina let go.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Many things, John, but this isn't one of them. For someone who can be so philosophical at times, you're remarkably juvenile otherwise. Too gullible—people are going to take advantage of you, John, and any free thinker should know not to be taken advantage of. It's OK to have a strict moral code, but you need to take yourself less seriously and understand when exceptions must be made. Do you remember that example Frank talked about once where a pious Jewish man refused to save a drowning woman because she was potentially on her period?" John looked at Regina again with disgust, and considered jumping out of his seat and going somewhere else. "And no, that's not a taboo word to mention, John. Polite people, mature people, can handle this sort of talk. So tell me, John: what's the moral Frank wanted us to learn from that anecdote?"

"That it's OK to let some people drown, that everyone must make sacrifices? Maybe that a man's dignity is worth more than a woman's life?"

"God no, John! Who told you that? He used that story to explain why sometimes it's immoral to always try to act moral. You console yourself in the moment by thinking that you're doing the right thing, and then you look back and think what a fool you were. If Frank, who out of all of us should know how to act most like a good person, understands the necessity of exception, you should too." The lights began to dim, and they went quiet. John felt a constant urge as the counselors droned on and on about graduation requirements to chastise Regina for her baseless slander—why did she not think that John was a reasonable man, an ordinary man, one possessing a strong moral compass as all men should? John was willing to bet that Regina had never read How To Be A Good Person with the same intense focus he had. He needed someone to prove him right, and since Regina had clearly been in an argument with Beth, she out of all people would clearly stand with good character. Beth's angry expression faded slightly when John started talking, but it returned in full force as John spun an intricate web of connections, stemming from Beth's attitude freshman year to her clear deficiencies now:

"Do you even understand what you're saying? You're talking rubbish, as far as I'm concerned. I wasn't even at the party, so what makes you think I'm involved?"

"If you are indeed as good as you claim, why did Louis host the party? Wasn't it your responsibility as a good person to convert him?"

"I don't know if Regina put you up to this simply to keep me on edge, but you know perfectly well we broke up before that summer, when How To Be A Good Person was more of a fad than a movement. By your logic, you should be commending me for breaking up with him! You think of me as some sinner you need to cure. Do you think I need an exorcism or something?"

"I don't know what is up with all of you people these days. So defiant. Maybe you weren't at that party, but if you were invited, you'd have gone with Behrooz to jump around in the darkness and rub butts. People like you can't be trusted to ever change, I don't know how Frank manages to put up with this. At least Juliet seems better-trained."

"I'm not sure why you see the need to drag every name you can possibly think of through the mud, but that's not even what's important here—'better-trained? All of you people?' Do you know how misogynistic that sounds?"

"You attend all the same meetings I do, so I don't see how you're still not getting it: do you realize how hypocritical it is to attend all the club meetings, and still talk back to others at every opportunity? You're just being contrary for the sake of being contrary. You could learn some respect from others—girl, you have an attitude!" Beth's jaw dropped.

"If you were paying attention at the meetings, and I mean actually paying attention and not drifting off into space like you always seem to do, you would see nothing portraying that sort of bigotry. I will be fair here and say that I see where some of your points are coming from, but as harsh as the club's dogma is, it certainly isn't sexist, and I think you're revealing all your own biases here by continuing to speak." John's face moved like he did not know how to feel, and Beth concluded acerbically, resisting the temptation to mockingly stick her tongue out: "Girl, you have an attitude!"

Even someone as consistently stolid as John betrayed his feelings occasionally, and Ms. Liu tried to speculate as to why that day he left the classroom with a slow step. She had noticed his wardrobe slowly change over time toward something resembling a Ralph Lauren catalog with a touch of teenage dork; the "good people," as others dubbed them, stood out in a crowd. And even though the change was gradual, she noticed that John was becoming more inconstant in his moods and prone to daydream; on the other hand, Frank never was anything but jovial, and Ms. Liu suspected that he took some pride in his perpetual lack of melancholy. She didn't want to tell John that she was willing to talk if needed, as that implied that there was something wrong with him, but there was something there she needed to unravel. Maybe Frank could tell her, but then again, it wasn't his responsibility to fret about his classmates' welfare for her. All she could hope was that if somebody needed help, they would ask. John thankfully turned around and walked back, as he saw a fair number of kids making themselves comfortable inside, and the bus was certainly going to be late.

"Ms. Liu, what does it mean to you to be a good person? Because recently, many people whom I used to trust have left me doubting whether I've truly been the best person I possibly could be, and I worry that I'm ruining my relationships with them."

"Well, don't you attend club meetings every day to figure that out? What room for ambiguity do you possibly see there?"

"Now that I'm forcing myself to actually think about what I've thought before, I think I've been looking at what he's been saying only for what I want to personally believe while discarding everything I don't like. That's kind of funny, right, because that's exactly what he tells us not to do." Ms. Liu checked to make sure Frank had already left, then laughed deeply:

"He's a crafty one, isn't he? I wouldn't expect anything less from a work of satire—well, at least I think it is, right?" John's expression told Ms. Liu that he had never considered that claim before and certainly wasn't in the right state of mind to do so, and so she dropped the point: "Without any specifics, I think it's really hard for me to judge, although I think I can see what you're beginning to think about. Explain to me how you think you've been ruining your relationships."

"I was talking with Regina this morning, and she accused me of being too rigid in how I thought; she cited letting a person drown because it was against your religion to touch a woman when, you know, she was doing that. I had always thought about it as demonstrating the necessity of sacrifice, but Regina said it meant, at least according to Frank, that rules could not be applied blindly. And when I brought up the entire thing to Beth, she accused me of being a sexist!"

"That's a serious allegation to make, John, why did she think you were sexist?" Ms. Liu thought that this maybe did explain some things about John, peculiar idiosyncrasies she had once attributed to mere social unawareness; did he interrupt the female students in the class more frequently than the men?

"Well beyond that, I described Juliet as better-trained, simply because she—"

"I'm going to stop you right there, John, and say that nothing you could put after that will make you sound less tone-deaf. And yes, sexist. But the first step in growth is identifying your own problems, and that's something I agree with Frank on. Do you think that because of the club's emphasis on 'blind obedience to ensure a harmonious society,' as I think he puts it, you naturally act with preconceptions of who should obey whom? As educators, we spend a lot of time in staff meetings, more than any of you might realize, trying to address these social issues. Implicit biases, as they are called. And what we find is that many people who seem ordinary on the surface actually will say these nasty things when you let them."

"Yeah, I think I understand what you're trying to say. But why didn't he ever tell us any of those things? Why didn't he ever tell us that being a good person could be so complicated?"

"I'm trying to think of how I would put this, John. That's a lesson that I think is written through all of what he says, what he writes. And I've watched a good amount of his meetings and listened to him and other preeminent experts on good person philosophy—believe it or not, some have spent their entire lives trying to answer what Frank believes he has in 30 pages. Understanding that complexity is important, and that complexity lets us understand why beyond it being instinct to save another person's life, why that instinct is correct. It takes practice, a lot of self-evaluation, and there's no one right interpretation. Frank gives you what he thinks is his correct interpretation, but that really is a broad classification, and within that he allows some room for error. If you have time, I think reading How To Be A Good Person again—carefully, this time—would be of some help. There are many of those implicit lessons that he's trying to weave into his meetings in the hopes that over time, you start to pick up on them. This seems cryptic, but he's verified as much to me: there's a method to his madness." The person standing behind John was clearly getting a bit antsy, and John took the hint to leave, his mind full of thoughts and regrets. Should he apologize? He didn't think so, and besides, to whom?

John and Beth did not quite enter a state of détente the following morning, and after growing increasingly annoyed with Juliet's cool temperament, Beth started to wonder if she was perhaps more "conditioned" than she ought to be—she did not dare to emulate John in calling her "trained," but Juliet's civility was becoming inappropriate. This was supplanted by her observations, which she was forced to agree with John on, that Mrs. Huang did show her a special regard. Juliet was willing to talk as always:

"Explain to me exactly what you did to get Mrs. Huang to like you so much. It's unlike her."

"Well," Juliet said with the appearance of thoughtfulness, "I think it's because I listen to her. During my TA period, all of us listen to each other."

"What sort of listening?"

"Frank tells the funniest jokes, and Mrs. Huang tells us so many stories. I tell them too what's going on in my life, they do the same, and it's like we grow."

"You never tell me what's going on in your life. Not anymore, at least. It's all just school stuff."

"I promise you aren't missing out on any scandalous secrets, and if there were any, it's not like I could betray their trust and tell you."

"We're getting distracted here. So when you listen, is this just about what they ate for breakfast, what TV shows they're watching, what normal people discuss?"

"I'm vice president, Beth. This isn't anything frivolous. We are capable of having very mature discussions—you certainly would never see us attending any parties at the beach."

"What's up with everyone and this party?"

"Stanley was so kind to attend as a little spy, just as some field research—an observational study—and record everything that happened. We all watched the video together yesterday, and we were horrified. I'm ashamed to know that some of the people we've trusted the most conceal such scandal."

"Why do you keep using 'we'? What do you think? What does Juliet Wong think?"

"Juliet Wong thinks exactly as a good person should," Juliet said dismissively, "and nothing more. It's proper—you should try it sometime."

"I see Frank over there, why don't you go listen to him a bit more? Hold his hand, stare into his eyes, give him a friendly little kiss on the cheek, canoodle in sin, whatever? If he told you to rob a bank you would."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Beth, but you're talking like a crazy person. You're right: I'm going to go talk to Frank, and he will be nice and fair and not accuse me of being brainwashed." Juliet let out a huff and walked away at an appropriate walking speed, and Beth stood back to watch. They walked next to each other, close but not quite touching, all in such a way that Beth could honestly admit was appropriate and normal. She followed them from a distance, hoping that eventually one of them would break protocol, but she could not discern anything beyond a mutual respect.

Juliet had not known for a while what it felt like to be betrayed by a close friend, and thinking all the recent events far too interesting to be ignored, took the opportunity to talk with Frank after Mrs. Huang left the room at the beginning of the TA period once more.

"Frank, what do you think of Beth and Regina?" Frank knew immediately that this conversation was going to go somewhere unpleasant.

"Beth always has seemed fair and dignified, and while Regina's always a bit snarky to me, beyond that video I'm not convinced I can find much ground for fault. But clearly you do, so what's the issue? You look almost mournful."

"Should I stop talking to them?"

"That's it? That's your question? What would you do instead?"

"Talk to more decent people. Maybe John, I've always been fairly partial toward him; you too, definitely—I'm not sick of you yet."

"Well, if you want to stop talking to them just so you can talk to me, that should be reason alone to doubt what you're saying. Why would you do such a strange thing?"

"Loyalty, really. I feel like I've always been loyal to them. I've put great trust in them, I've spent so many hours talking with them, definitely more than I have with you, and look at what they give me in return. I don't think the same way they do, at least not anymore, and I have a higher purpose now."

"Have you found God when I haven't been paying attention? There's no higher purpose here," Frank said in his usual sarcastic tone, but after seeing Juliet's expression betray nothing but sincerity, he figured it out: "Oh, I see—damn it. Remember that fable I gave as an example once, you know, the woman who drowns because of a stupid man? It's important in life to cheat a little whenever you can get away with it, especially when not doing so leads to a worse outcome. You can always change your ideology, you can always find Jesus and then leave him. You can't treat friends in the same way, it just isn't sustainable!"

"You consider me a friend, don't you?"

"Yes, Juliet, of course I consider you a friend."

"But I worry that if I'm your friend, I can't be their friend too."

"What sort of playground feud is this? Friends can't be counted in the same way as paintings or bottles of wine. Not all are made the same, and even if you don't value them to a certain degree, maybe they value you a bit more. If that's the way you feel, I would rather not be your friend so you can keep two friends you already have. I'm willing to make that sacrifice because it's the right thing to do."

"If it makes you happy then, you and I are no longer friends," Juliet declared. She saw Frank appear contemplative, then cracked a grin: "Don't be silly, you really thought I was going to ditch you like that? One friend like you is worth a thousand ordinary ones!"

"I don't deserve such high praise, but I've really talked myself into a corner with this, so c'est la vie. Perhaps what you ought to do is look for traits in Beth and Regina that your other friends don't have. There's something to all of them, more than meets the eye and certainly nothing ordinary, and I think that can be said of anyone. I certainly don't know you as well as they know you, or any other permutation that you'll have, so take some time to think. Be more forgiving of their problems—everyone has them, even I do! That's what a good person would do." Juliet found this answer satisfactory, so she changed the topic quickly. Mrs. Huang had told her privately to take advantage of Frank while she still could; such an attractive bachelor could not possibly remain single for long, and when the current happy state of affairs ended, there would be no way he would offer her the same kindness. That was good advice, she thought, and so she stuck by it.

Beth came to the sudden conclusion during school that day that all her recent arguments with her friends had Frank lurking ominously in the shadows; it was impossible not to talk about what Frank did or said, or how others acted in his name. Fortunately, Frank was quite easy to find, and he did not seem to think anything strange of Beth walking toward him shaking her finger.

"You little sly devil, I know what you've been doing," she said jokingly—if she were too aggressive, she thought she would imply that he was the sole problem, which he probably wasn't, and it would be that more unlikely he'd give honest answers.

"Well, that makes one of us."

"I'll start with the easiest question, as I think it will be most revealing: what do you know about the 'juice' that's been showing up around the school?"

"The celery juice sold for ludicrous prices in small little vials to people who are too drug-addled to know any better? I know nothing about it," Frank admitted. "OK, I may know something about it."

"You know, when we talked about vaping last year, and you said you had something in mind, I was kind of hoping you'd be thinking of something reasonable. Posters in the hallways, that sort of thing. You instead chose to go all-in."

"I've never been one to believe in subtlety."

"How many other people are involved? I know Alan, Pranav, Juliet as well? So that makes three."

"Two out of three correct. Obviously this needs to stay on a need-to-know basis, and well, I didn't see the utility Juliet would bring."

"Interesting—I thought you told each other everything. This complicates things." Beth rubbed her chin.

"She tells me everything—I tell her less. Believe it or not, I was perfectly happy being a TA alone until she showed up out of the blue."

"There are layers all the way down, aren't there? I'll make another prediction: Alan has no idea how much trouble's going to find him when your little scheme inevitably collapses, because you keep your hands clean. You and Pranav just give the orders and let him handle the rest, and I bet that Mr. Kurtz is all too happy to let him serve as a scapegoat and keep you around for handling more of his dirty work."

"That's perhaps a bit cynical of a take, but perhaps that final outcome could happen."

"You have nothing to worry about from me, Frank. I think the ends justify the means. How do I get involved in this? I want to help, and quite frankly, I'm not thinking of my friends in the best way right now, so you're all I've got."

"We have dinner at seven reserved at La Grosse Pierre. We can certainly add a fourth—your current outfit will be fine. Welcome to the cool kids' club, Beth," Frank smiled, and extended his hand, which she shook with ceremony.

"My parents went there on their wedding anniversary; you guys must be making a lot of money if you're going on a weekday. I can keep a secret, so don't worry."

"That makes two of us!"

Discussion Questions:

Describe the setting of the bonfire. What feels different?

Which interpretation of the parable of the pious Jewish man do you agree with?

What critiques of the club and Frank's character do we see in this chapter?