Opening boxes sounded to Danny like something with possibilities. Who knew what they could find? He’d read stories of amazing things found in old attics: coin collections, baseball cards. Imagine if they found something like that! They’d probably be in the news or something, and it would be his friends who were at camp who’d have missed out, not him.
The first box he tried, however, proved to hold just papers – handwritten papers written in an illegible scrawl. After spending a few minutes trying to puzzle them out, Danny was only able to figure that they had something to do with what sounded like a strange take on Biblical narratives, and right now, that was not what he was interested in. It just reminded him of the haftara studying he was trying to avoid.
“So, Andrew,” he heard Yitzi say, “how did your Dad recognize my name? Does he speak Hebrew?”
“Not really, but he’s really into Bible stuff, so he’s been learning about the Hebrew names of Bible figures.”
“Of course he didn’t pronounce your name right,” Danny commented, feeling a bit smug. “He called you Yitzak instead of Yitzchak.” He made it a point to hold out the “ch” sound in the middle of the name.
“Most American non-Jews never run into the ches sound,” Yitzi reminded him. “But Yitzhak would at least have been closer.”
“Wait, are both of you guys into this stuff?” Andrew asked. It was hard to tell if he was impressed or annoyed.
The other two looked at each other. “I’ve been going to Hebrew school since first grade,” Danny explained.
“So you’re fluent, now?”
“Not really,” Danny admitted. “Mostly they make sure you can read the letters and recognize some of the words. I wouldn’t say I understand most of what I read, but I can read it, at least.”
“Oh.” Andrew looked at Yitzy. “Somehow, I thought…”
“I… um, do understand most of what I read,” Yitzy added, quietly. “I spend about four hours a day in school doing… um, religious studies, mostly in Hebrew. And some Aramaic, of course.”
“Aramaic?!”
“Yeah, much of the Gemara – that is, the Talmud – is written in Aramaic, so we have to learn that, too. I’ve only been doing that for a couple of years, though.”
“I’m not really sure what the point is,” Danny commented. “I mean, unless you’re planning on moving to Israel.” He didn’t really like the way Yitzi was making him look bad. It wasn’t his fault that his Hebrew school teachers weren’t all that good; or that having Hebrew school scheduled at such an inconvenient time made him have to miss a bunch of classes.
“Modern Hebrew isn’t the same as the Hebrew in the Bible or the Talmud.”
“It’s not?” Andrew asked, surprised.
“Does it really matter?” Danny snapped. “We’re supposed to be exploring the attic, not talking about Hebrew.”
An uncomfortable silence followed, broken by Yitzi exclaiming over a notebook he’d pulled off a shelf. “This is weird,” he said.
“What?” asked Danny, glad to have the subject changed. Besides, nothing he’d found came even close to weird. Boring was more like it.
“It looks like notes for a children’s fantasy. Was your relative a writer?”
“Not that I know of,” answered Andrew, shaking his head.
“It sounds like notes for a fantasy book. Listen to this. ‘And so I decided to ask Torraste. Torraste was tall, even for a Centaur, and was reputed to be wise in the ways of history. He told me–’”
Danny peeked over his shoulder. How could Yitzi read those chicken scratches?
“A centaur? Really?” Andrew asked, putting his hand out for the notebook. Yitzi passed it over and Andrew looked through it while Danny looked on. “Huh. And here he’s talking to a faun.”
“Centaurs? Fauns?” Danny scoffed. “Kid stuff.” He turned back to the boxes. There had to be something interesting here.
Behind him, he heard Andrew saying, “I’ll ask my parents. If he did write fantasy books, that would be pretty neat, don’t you think? Even kid’s fantasy?”
Danny shook his head. Fantasy creatures were lame. Stories about them were all sissy-type things suitable only for little girls. He remembered reading a story about a writer who did write such things and had to keep it a secret from the neighbors. No wonder Andrew had never heard of it. The guy probably even wrote under a fake name.
Annoyed, he pulled down another box and looked inside. Worse and worse. This one held old utility bills. The old guy had probably been so into the fantasy junk that he’s never even bothered learning to use a computer.
“Do you really think it’s kid stuff?” he heard Andrew asking plaintively. He didn’t heard Yitzi’s reply.
“I want to ask my Dad,” Andrew said, sounding certain. “Come on, Danny.”
Danny shrugged. It wasn’t as if the attic was proving to be very exciting; besides, he’d always wanted to check out the woods behind this house. Sometimes when his friends had gone camping they’d thought they’d seen something interesting – but had never actually gotten around to checking it out. As he’d told Andrew, they didn’t want to trespass on somebody’s property – especially given some of the stories they’d heard about the Paisebel place.
As he followed the other two out, he looked again at that oddly placed switch. Had the old lady who’d owned the place ever actually used it?
Andrew popped his head into the room where they’d last seen his father, but popped back out immediately. “Not in there,” he shrugged. “Let’s check the kitchen.”
Mr. Smith wasn’t there, either, but his wife was, and she greeted the boys immediately. “Ready for lunch?”
“Just trying to find Dad. Do you know if Great-Aunt Cynthia used to write kid’s books?”
“Not that I recall,” his mother answered. “You can ask your father after you eat.”
“Mom–”
“It’s not polite to make your guests wait, Andrew. I’m sure they’re starving.”
Andrew mumbled something that didn’t sound exactly like acceptance, but at least he didn’t resist as his mother guided the three of them to the kitchen table and pushed a partially unpacked box to one side.
Danny shook his head as he followed. Moms were all alike. Sometimes all they seemed to think mattered was if your belly was empty.
“Peanut butter and jelly OK?”
“I brought my own lunch,” Yitzi said. “I left it in my backback.”
Danny sighed as Yitzi darted from the room. Why did he have to make things so dramatic? But he should have remembered Andrew’s earlier reaction. When Yitzi came back, holding a sandwich wrapped in waxed paper, Andrew’s eyes bulged.
“May I see it?” he asked, reaching for the sandwich.
“Uh, sure,” Yitzi answered, opening it and placing the sandwich on the waxed paper close to Andrew.
Danny watched Andrew frown. “It… looks just like ordinary food,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed.
“Well, it pretty much is, except that everything’s kosher.”
“How can you tell if it looks just like anything else?”
Yitzi shrugged. “My Mom doesn’t make anything that isn’t kosher.”
“You know, Yitzi,” Andrew’s mother said, “if your mother will call me, she can tell me how to make food for you. There’s no need for you to bring your own.”
Danny nodded to himself. At least she wasn’t going all crazy over this “real Jew” stuff. If Yizti had just listened to him…
The other boy looked a bit panicked. “I don’t think– that is, I– I guess you could call her, but… OK.”
“Well, let me get you something to wash that down,” she said, bustling to the refrigerator. She was back shortly with sandwiches for Danny and Andrew, and then glasses of milk for the three of them.
“Um, I can’t– I can’t have this,” Yitzi protested. “I mean, no thanks.”
“It’s just plain milk!” she said, sounding exasperated. “What’s wrong with milk?”
“Nothing, except that… well, I’m eating bologna. We’re not allowed to eat meat and milk together.”
“So have your sandwich and then drink the milk.”
“I have to wait six hours.”
Mrs. Smith stared at him. “How about water. Are you allowed to drink water?”
“May I have it in a paper cup?” Yitzi asked timidly.
Danny slumped a bit in his seat. This is what he’d been afraid of. He didn’t see why Yitzi had to make such a big deal of things.
“Don’t forget to say Grace, Andrew” Mrs. Smith reminded him, and as Danny watched, Andrew bowed his head and mumbled something before picking up his sandwich and eating. Danny picked up his own sandwich, but Yitzi didn’t. He stood up and asked, may I use your sink please? And may I borrow a glass?”
Andrew’s mother stared at him. “I thought you couldn’t… I mean, of course.” She handed him one from the cabinet and he went to the sink and used the glass to pour water over his hands, dried them on a towel, sat down, whispered something and only then picked up his sandwich and started eating.
Danny wasn’t the only one staring. “Did you just say Jewish Grace?” Andrew asked.
“Well… we always say a bracha – that is, a blessing – before eating. Before eating bread, we also wash first.”
“And that’s to thank G-d for the food?” Andrew persisted.
“Actually, we thank him after we eat. The blessing before eating is sort of – I don’t know how to explain it; you’d have to ask my Dad.” Danny just slumped even lower.
Hoping to change the subject, he brought up the idea of exploring the woods. “As I told you, there’s all kinds of neat trails back there. I’ll show you how to get to the State Park, but there’s probably cool stuff just behind your house.”
“Well, I know there’s a creek; I saw it last night. We could see if there are any frogs or turtles.”
“– Which you will not bring into the house,” his mother warned him.
“Of course not, Mom. But we can look, can’t we?”
The meal was mostly normal, as far as Danny could tell. At least Yitzi didn’t do anything else unexpected while eating. Andrew was the first one finished, and waited impatiently for the others. Finally, when they were all done, he jumped to his feet and said, “let’s go.”
“I have to say a blessing after eating, remember?” Yitzi said, pulling a small booklet from his pocket.
“OK, say it and let’s go.”
“It… takes a few minutes to say.”
“It didn’t take that long for breakfast,” Danny pointed out.
“That was just for mezonos – I mean, stuff like cake or cereal. This is for bread; it’s a lot longer.”
Danny and Andrew looked at each other. “Why don’t we go outside and wait for you?” Andrew suggested.
Yitzi nodded and started reading quietly from the booklet as the other two headed for the back door.
“Hey, what’s that?” Andrew exclaimed as the two of them stepped outside.
“What?”
“Up there! Over the woods! Doesn’t it look like a dragon?”
Danny looked where Andrew was pointing. There was a section in the forest with a large group of shorter trees, allowing them to see something in the distance. “It’s not a dragon, Andrew,” he said, a bit disgusted. “You’ve got that’s kid’s book on your brain.”
“I know it’s not a dragon. They don’t exist. Maybe it’s a fancy hot-air balloon or something over the State Park.”
“Yeah, let’s go see. There’s a trail over there.”
The two boys ran eagerly to it. It twisted in various directions and followed the trees down an incline.
“Wait,” Andrew said, after they’d gone several dozen feet down the trail. “Shouldn’t we wait for Yitzi?”
Danny stopped himself from suggesting that they go on and let him catch up. “He should be right out,” he said, turning back the way they’d come and looking through a sparse section among the trees. Suddenly he stopped in surprise. “Hey! Where’s the house?