07: Lost and Found

Yitzi sped through the blessing after the meal as quickly as he could, and naturally stumbled a few times and had to repeat himself. It was crazy – he’d been saying the blessing for years, there was no reason for him to be making mistakes now!

Jamming the bentscher into his pocket, he sped out of the kitchen, calling a quick “thanks” over his shoulder as he hurried to catch up with the other boys. He pushed open the door – and stopped. Andrew and Danny were nowhere in sight. He scanned the yard and then stepped out, letting the door swing closed behind him. He saw an empty, badly overgrown  yard, ending in a thick wood a few dozen yards away, but no Andrew or Danny.

“Hey! Guys” he shouted, walking slowly away from the house. The grass and weeds clung to his ankles, and several times he kicked at them, annoyed. Why did those guys have to pull a prank on him like this? He stomped to the one obvious path through the trees and took a breath to calm himself. Then he stepped onto it, bracing himself for the obvious shouts as they jumped out to scare him.

Nothing. Puzzled, he stopped and peered into the trees. They weren’t all that thick, so he ought to be able see them if they were hiding near the start of the path. Evidently, they were waiting further down. Shaking his head, he started walking again, slowly, and forced himself to whistle as though completely unaware of what was going to happen. After twenty yards of no noises beyond those of the occasional bird call, he stopped again. Where were they? He turned around and looked back. The path rose behind him, and its twisting obscured the start, but when he looked up, he could see the top of the house through the trees. Determined, he headed back with an idea of how to out-fox the others.

He knocked on the back door and Andrew’s mother opened it. “Is something wrong, Yitzi? Where are the boys?”

“I can’t find them. I think they’re hiding. Can I take a look from the back third floor window?”

“Really?” She peered past him for a moment and then turned to him, her lips compressed in anger. “Come with me.

Yitzi followed her out of the kitchen to the study, where Andrew’s father and brother were busy unpacking boxes, to the accompaniment of some popular music thay Yitzi didn’t recognize. The music seemed to be coming out of the brother’s pocket.

“Bradley,” she snapped. “Would you please take Yitzi upstairs so he can see out of Natalie’s window?”

Bradley and his father stared at one another in surprise.

“What happened?” Mr. Smith asked.

“Andrew and Danny were supposed to wait for Yitzi, but they’ve run off. Yitzi wants to see if he can see them from the third floor.”

“Bradley, do as your mother says,” her husband said.

“C’mon,” Bradley said, leading to the way to the stairs. “Yitzi, huh? Is that Hebrew or something?” Yitzi nodded. A few steps up, the music, which had followed them, suddenly stopped. So did Bradley, who pulled out his iPhone and stared at it in annoyance. “Hey, is your phone working? I keep losing the signal.”

“I… don’t have a phone,” Yitzi admitted.

“Oh. I just… I guess they can be a bit expensive.” Evidently embarassed, Bradley turned and led the way up the steps once again.

“No,” Yitzi explained, following him, “it’s just that I’m not allowed one at school, and Abba says there’s no point in paying for one I can only use a few months out of the year.”

“Huh. Abba?”

“My father.”

“Why do you call him that? In church they told us that Abba means Daddy.”

Yitzi flushed. “It’s just what we call him.”

“Huh.” They had reached the third floor, and Yitzi saw Natalie coming out of the attic and closing the door behind her. She was now wearing a modest blouse and a skirt that ended just below her knees. She hadn’t noticed them.

“Hey, Gnat!” Bradley called.

His sister jumped and looked guilty. “Andrew was in there, before. Why shouldn’t I look? Anyway, it’s too dark.”

“No, Mom says you should let Yitzi look out your window. Andrew and his friend ran away and he wants to see if he can spot them. Hey, is your iPhone working?”

Natalie had opened her mouth to say something to Yitzi and then swung back to her brother at his question. She fished out her own phone, turned it on and tapped its surface several times. “I don’t have a signal” she said, after a moment.

“I knew it. We’re probably out of the coverage area. I’m telling Dad.” And he turned and clomped down the stairs.

The other two watched him for a moment before Natalie spoke. “Did you guys find anything interesting in there? It’s pretty dark.”

“We used flashlights.”

“Oh. There’s a really stupid light switch in there. It’s way up high. I had to climb on a chair, and it didn’t work.” She led the way to another door and held it open. “My room’s kind of a mess. I’m still unpacking.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Yitzi said, moving to the window. From up here, he could see over the woods; there was a creek on the other side.

“I’m sure my brother wouldn’t really run away,” Natalie said, coming to his side. “He probably just got distracted.” The two of them looked out the window together. The woods and the stream both ran a fair ways to either side. “Is this the way the girls you know dress?” she asked.

Yitzi answered while still scanning the scene. “Um, yeah, but my sisters wear longer skirts.”

“Oh, you have sisters?” Natalie persisted. “How old are they?”

“Um, Sima Rochel is ten and Chava Leah is seven.” Suddenly he pointed. “There they are!” Andrew and Danny were just coming around a bend in the stream, and with them was another boy, in leather overalls but no shirt.

“There, I told you!” Natalie said, triumphantly. “They met a new boy and just got distracted.”

“Yeah, thanks,” called Yitzi as he headed back to the stairs.

“You have to introduce me to your sister,” Natalie yelling after him.

“Sure!” he answered, running down. Now that he knew were to find them, he felt a lot better. “I saw them,” he shouted as he raced into the kitchen and out the back door. Now he didn’t hesitate, but ran right for the woods, barely registering the ring of mushrooms that now surrounded the house. The path through the woods was a few feet to the right of where he’d remembered it being, but he ignored that as well.

Panting, he emerged on the other side and looked to his right. There they were, coming towards him. “Hey, Guys,” he shouted, but instead of welcoming him, all three were shouting something and waving their arms as though telling him to go away. A bit hurt, he stopped in surprise, and then took a few more tentative steps, which just elicted more urgent cries and gestures.

Suddenly, he was aware of a massive shadow on the ground in front of him. A shadow that was moving rapidly towards him. He looked up to see what it was and was shocked to see what looked like a dragon right out of the picture books in the attic. Shocked, he looked back to see the strange boy running towards him and suddenly turning into a centaur! Mouth agape, he froze. Then he realized that the dragon was diving for him, turned and starting running back to the shelter of the woods. But they were many yards away, and even as he ran, he saw the great beast’s shadow merge with his own and felt a giant claw lifting him into the sky.

06: Friends, Differing

Andrew stared at the woods, frustrated and confused. Why was Danny so upset at Yitzy? Ok, so he did some funny things. Andrew knew about that, what with his dad’s new kick. His old friends were all freaked that his mom was pregnant again, even making some rather crude comments about ‘old people’. But why was Danny so upset about it, even embarrassed?

And what was the difference between them, anyway? Every time that Andrew thought he had something figured out, one of the two of them were different about it. Danny spoke Hebrew badly, but it sounded like Yitzy spoke it well. Danny inhaled his milk but Yitzy had to have water, and in a paper cup, too. What was up with that?

“Andrew! Where is the house?”

“What?” Andrew said, looking back uphill through the trees, “I dunno. Up there somewhere. We didn’t come in the woods that far.”

“But I can’t see it.”

“It’s probably just behind one of those bushes or something,” Andrew said. “Listen,  you can see the creek from my room, “So you’ve gotta be able to see my room from the creek. Let’s walk up the creek a ways.That will keep us closer to the house, anyway, so we’ll be able to hear Yitzy when he comes out.” Andrew continued, pointing down to the creek just below them. What was Danny so freaked out about? Was the kid not used to walking in woods? They’d only walked a minute or so, downhill. The house was obviously behind that stand of trees.

“Ok…,” Danny said, sounding doubtful. “I guess I just thought we should be able to still see the house from here…”

Andrew didn’t see what the big deal was. They had only walked about a minute away from the house. Yitzy would be able to yell out when he came outside and they would hear him!

Andrew led the way toward the creek, Danny following but glancing back and around all the time. A couple of times, through the trees, Andrew saw glimpses of that balloon or whatever Danny was looking at. Maybe it was an ultralight! Maybe all costumed up with a dragon outfit thing for some event or whatever. It sure had looked like a dragon the first time he saw it, and it still did! Not even all that far away, either. And he couldn’t hear it, like you would think you would with an ultralight.

“I’m gonna wade,” Andrew said, when the reached the creek, and sitting down and taking his shoes off. “I did that at camp the other summer, and its fun. Do you ever wade?”

“Yeah, sure. Swim, too, when we find a pool deep enough. But where is the house?” Danny asked again, looking back uphill.

“We’ll see it!” Andrew insisted, going down into the water. “We’ll just go up and down the creek a bit. I told you, I can see it from my window. It’s just up there. Chill. Haven’t you ever been in the woods before?”

“Oh, umm, yeah, yeah, I just got turned around, I guess,” Danny said, turning red and sitting down to take his own shoes off.

“Hey, what’s with you and Yitzy, anyway?” Andrew asked. “He seems a nice enough kid. Why are you on his case?”

“Oh, he’s nice. It’s just all of this religious rules.”

“I don’t understand. You’re Jewish too.”

“It’s complicated. Yitzy is Orthodox, which means they keep a whole bunch of rules and things.”

“I know about that!” Andrew said. “My dad has gotten us into a bunch of new stuff. Natalie’s kind of ticked. There’s all sorts of clothes she’s not allowed to wear anymore. At least, not around boys like you.”

“Is that what happened t his morning?’

“Oh, yeah. If Dad had seen her she would have gotten a big lecture.”

“I didn’t see anything wrong with what she wore. Anyway, they have all sorts of rules that don’t even make sense anymore. Pork used to have some diseases, so the old Jews couldn’t eat it. But we know, now, that you just have to cook it really well.”

“I can’t imagine not being able to eat ham,” Andrew agreed. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Say, he said, after a minute, “I like his name. Yitzchak,” he said, trying for the sound that Yitzy had made. “I wish I had a name like that. Well, maybe not for all the time, but for fun. What would my Bible name be?”

“I dunno. What does ‘Andrew’ mean, anyway?”

“Righteous Warrior,” I think. Mom told me, but I kept forgetting.

“Ummm… I’ve never heard of a name like that.”

Danny stopped and looked up the hill, while Andrew pulled out his iphone. “Lohem-Tzedek!” Andrew said triumphantly.

“What?”

“Lohem-Tzedek! That’s my Hebrew name!”

“Oh, Andrew, don’t be silly. I’ve never heard of a name like that! Look, don’t you think we better go down the creek now? I’ve been watching the whole time and haven’t seen your house.”

The turned downhill, with Andrew leaping in front of Danny causing Danny to yell a bit when the cold water splashed his thighs. “Come on!”

Andrew was a bit surprised that Yitzy’s bread blessing thing was taking all this long. How did he get anything else done in the day, if he had to spend this long on each meal? It’s not like it was thanksgiving or something!

Danny recovered and chased Andrew, both boy’s shorts getting a bit wet with all of the splashing. And at one point, when Danny caught up with Andrew, Andrew tripped and plunged to his knees in the water.

“Watch out,” Danny said. “If you get your shorts all wet you’ll have to go in and get changed.”

“Oh, my mom will never notice,” Andrew said. “Come on.”

He darted off ahead to where, just in front of them, the stream, ran went around a curve but when Andrew got around the curve he stopped, startled, and Danny plowed into his back. There was a boy, about his age, or a little older… definitely a little bigger, kneeling in front of Andrew, drinking from the stream with cupped hands and staring at them curiously.

And what a boy. Dark skinned, almost Indian like, dark black hair that Andrew could see peeking out from behind his neck, like some funny kind of ponytail. And wearing nothing except a pair of leather overalls!

“Greetings,” the boy said.

Andrew just stared, leaving it to Danny to say, “Ummm, hi,” and reach forward to shake hands.

The boy looked a bit startled, but turned his hand toward his mouth, spit on it, and, before Danny could react, took Danny’s hand, shaking it gravely, “May the blessings of Torren-Ra and your name gods be upon you,” he said.

Danny took his hand back, looking frankly appalled. But Andrew, remembering camp last summer, spit on his own hand and held it out. The other boy (without spitting again, which made Andrew feel a bit better) took it and shook it. “I’m Andrew,” Andrew said.

“I am Torren, son of Torren,” the boy said.

Andrew finally noticed that the boy had a bow on his shoulder, and a knife on his belt, a great big knife that looked handmade. This was way cool. Not only another new neighbor, but one that was into some kind of reenactment kind of game. The spitting part was clear enough, but Andrew found the overalls kind of weird. What Indian tribe had worn overalls?

“We have not met before?” the boy said. Andrew really didn’t know this dialect or whatever, but he tried his best.

“But we are honored by the meeting,” he said, trying to match the boy’s grave tone. “We hope we have not disturbed your hunting.”

“Well, splashing around in the creek will scare off the game, that’s for sure,” the boy said, breaking dialect a bit. “But I was not hunting at the moment. I was cleaning my kill.”

“Really?” Andrew said, excited.

“Surely,” Torren said, and pointed toward a tree, where a small deer was hanging half skinned.

“What!” Danny burst out. “You can’t do that! The rangers are going to kill you!”

The boy, Torren, whipped out his bow in a blur and had an arrow knocked. “Rangers? Who are they? Must they be fought, or can they be appeased? What kind of offering will they accept?”

“They’ll accept an offering all right, and it will be an arm and a leg.”

“Then I and mine will fight them rather than pay such a sacrifice. But who are these rangers? Never have I heard of them. Did they come with you from a far land?”

“What kind of…” Danny started to say, but Andrew interrupted.

“I and mine come from a far land,” he intoned, enjoying this game and not really caring about park rangers and a dead deer. The boy probably had a primitive hunting permit anyway. “Long we traveled from the Land’s to the East and South to arrive at… to come to my Great Aunt’s house,” he finished, lamely, not coming up with a good way to describe the house they were living in. Perhaps he should have said, “the house on the hill.”

“And you?” Torren asked, turning to Danny? “What is your name, and from where do you come?”

“I’m Danny, and I live down the road a ways, in the subdivision. I can’t believe you killed that deer.”

“It was not a hard shot,” Torren said, turning back to the deer. “It was unwary, eating in a clearing.” When he turned Andrew noted with shock that he didn’t’ have a pony tail! His hair was cut short all round, but it literally continued a few inches down his neck! Like to the top of his back. Andrew wondered if that was some kind of deformity or what? He knew he couldn’t ask. Way too embarrassing.

Torren reached way up and started pulling at the deer skin, having to stand on his tiptoes. Why on Earth had he tied it so high?

“It is perhaps difficult to hold standard form this long?” Torren asked, after getting the skin down a few inches.

“What is…” Andrew started, but Danny interrupted.

“Where is Yitzy!” he said. “His stupid prayers can’t be taking this long?”

“Yitzy?” Torren asked. “Another of your friends?”

“Yeah,” Andrew said, lapsing out of dialect as he realized that it had really be a while for Yitzy, and he wasn’t being a very good host, off playing with one friend while leaving another one at home with his mom and Natalie, who was probably talking his ear off. “We left him at my house, over there.”

Andrew turned back from pointing toward his house and saw that Torren had turned white. “Your friend… your house… you are from the Spirit House?”

“I didn’t know it had a name,” Andrew admitted, wondering why the kid was so freaked. “It’s that weird house with all of the gargoyles on the roof, and it’s got to be just over there somewhere. Look, we’ll be right back, OK, we have to find him. I want to see you gut that deer, it really looks cool. We’ll just find our friend and be right back, OK?”

“You… you are true humans?” Torren asked.

“Hey, more of the game when we get back, OK? You can explain the rules and everything. But we’ve got to find our friend.”

“Your will,” Torren said, and Andrew turned to follow Danny, who was marching up the hill.

05: A Searching Question

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?

04: Appearances

Torren awoke to see his mother bending over, sweeping the ashes back from the fireside coals, and adding some twigs. Her tail swished and her hooves stomped lightly as she worked on getting her blood pumping and our fire going. He felt one of his sisters stir next to him and her bleary eyes lifted to look at him.

“Morning, Sis,” he said, struggling to get his legs pulled under him and then to stand. He stifled his own instinct to swish his own tail, as his oldest sister lay sleeping behind him. If he hit her she would surely inflict tongue lashing on him. Getting up in the morning was always a tricky maneuver, avoiding all dozen of his siblings, who lay around him piled up against each other.

He finally pushed himself up and had room to stamp and swish his tail. While he stamped, using his hoof pads to force blood through his near nerveless legs, he watched Nan, one of the twins, trot over to their mother. After chasing her back and forth in front of the fire for a few seconds, Nan finally caught Mother’s left breast and begin nursing. Her brother, Nesd, was still asleep near the fire, and Mother and Nan had to tread carefully not to step on him. He never was an early riser, Nesd.

Torren looked around to see the rest of his siblings beginning to stir. His Father and Mother always got up a few minutes before the rest of his family, but Centaurs (outside of Nesd) were not known for rising late. Of course, there was hardly room in the house for anyone to work with all of the siblings sleeping on the floor. The house was barely large enough for that.

Finally his legs seemed workable, and he walked to the door and pulled his bow and quiver from beside the door. He had no sooner strung the bow and was about to go out when his mother called him over. “Sacrifice, Torren,” she said, and squirted a few drops of milk into his outstretched hand.

Carefully holding the milk, he opened the door and and walked past his father’s blacksmith shop  to  the beautiful carved poles of Ashteroth, the goddess of motherhood. There he spilled the drops at its base, mumbling a quick prayer for his mother, his siblings, and his future wife. Then he trotted off into the forest, quickly finding a tree to lift his leg against.

“Morning, Torren!” a deep voice said, and he turned to see Father himself, his sledge behind him, and Drazd, one of his younger brothers.

“Good morning, my Father,” Torren said. “I go to hunt.”

“Hunt well,” Father replied, and he and Drazd moved off into the forest in pursuit of firewood. Soon the rest of his siblings would be dispersing into the forest in search of roots, berries, and the like.

Torren was the best hunter of the family, a task he enjoyed and a skill he had worked hard to perfect. There would be no game near his house, so he cantered quietly through the dense forest toward another hill, an area he hadn’t hunted in a while.

After few minutes of steady cantering he dropped back into a walk. He was at least three miles from his house, so there was some hope of game here, preferably a pig. They had just finished smoking a load of fish, so even a small pig would be wonderful to smoke and add to the larder.

He heard a rustling noise in some bushes and turned, raising his bow. But the shape was too tall for a pig so, guessing, he quickly shifted into standard form and called out, “Hello?” He was rewarded with a quick ‘whoosh’ of transformation and the sight of a slightly younger boy stepping from the bushes.

“Torren!” the boy said, even as Torren recognized his friend Grengin. His current form was just barely shorter than Torren’s  but with the same two-hands, two-legs, hoof-less feet, fur-less and tail-less backside. But where Torren wore dark leather overalls, Grengin wore a soft, light, pair of breeches.

Torren spat on his hand and then shook Grengin’s equally spit-covered hand. Being good friends they didn’t bother to hold standard form longer than through the greetings, so they quickly reverted: their clothes merging back into their body as their shapes changed.

In his normal, faun, shape, Gregin was a good two feet shorter than Torren was. It was one thing Torren liked about being a centaur: even at his age he was taller than most other boys or even men.

Gregin’s fur was gorgeous, from his head to the top of his perpetually moving long tail. Centaurs, on the other hand, weren’t known for their beauty. Only Dwarfs and Giants were uglier.

“Got anything yet?” Grengin asked, indicating Torren’s bow, as they turned together and moved off through the forest.

“No, I just got here,” Torren said. Fauns ate less than Centaurs so all Grengin carried was a sling for small game. Fauns tended to be fairly content with shoots and saplings for their diet, so his ‘hunting’ was less serious than Torren’s. He was more interested in the company.

“You want to try up at the meadow?” Grengin asked, an hour later, getting impatient with the forced inactivity. It wasn’t only Faun’s tails that liked to be active, so Grengin was finding the waiting hard.

“OK, “ Torren said, and Grengin dashed off. The meadow wasn’t actually very good hunting, typically, but Torren knew that Grengin really wanted to go. Faun’s, Niads, and Dryads really liked the Spirit House, always coming to the meadow, and sometimes holding their dances there. And, of the three, only Fauns would cross the threshold to the house itself.

Torren would too, of course. Centarus were a tough lot… not like Nyads and Dryads who would panic if they were separated from their tree or river and thus were panicked at the idea of getting trapped in a transformation in the Spirit House. Torren had been in the house dozens of times. Grengin and his other Faun buddies were always dragging him there. They each hoped that they would be the harbinger of the return of the true humans, or even caught in a transformation.

Torren was a few feet behind Grengin when he got to the clearing, and was still in the underbrush, so all he could really see of his friend was his darting tail and a bit of his backside. But that was enough to see him stop dead, transform, and drop to the ground, his standard-form rump sticking high up above his prostrated face.

Startled, Torren transformed himself and  hurried forward. It would never do to keep a god, even the most minor, waiting. Or, worse, to try to hide.

He kept his clothes on, however, as Grengin hadn’t removed his. Obvioiusly this couldn’t be one of those gods that liked their worshipers nude.

Then he came around the corner and my heart stopped. This was no minor deity! This was Torren-Ra, the God of Centaurs himself, and his own name-god!

Torren, too, fell on his face before the shining, crystalline, creature. In Centaur form himself (and this god was a definite him, unlike some gods which were definitely female, and a couple, such as the Faun god, whose gender was more in question. It wasn’t like you could ask them!), Torren-Ra towered over Grengin and Torren, as he would tower over his father or the tallest of his uncles.

“Rise, Torren, Son of Torren, Son of Torren,” the gods voice said in Torren’s head, and he rose, his standard-form dripping acrid sweat down its furless body. His fathers standard form could almost be said to have some fur, and even his mothers had some in the armpits and elsewhere. But the standard form for the as-yet-unchanged merely had a thick mop of fur on top and was pink and slick below. Pink, slick, and, in his extreme fear, covered in sweat.

His knees knocked as he tried his best to face his name-god eye to eye. He had been told that this god appreciated that; not that he had ever, ever, had the opportunity to know! He had been told Torren-Ra had put in a brief, dream-like, appearance at his name-sacrifice, and he had felt his presence  fairly often for their routine sacrifices. But this was a full appearance! If he lived, he would speak of this all of his life!

“Do you serve me, little one?” the great god asked Torren.

“Of course, great one,” Torren said, resisting the temptation to prostrate himself again under that powerful and dangerous gaze.

“Beware, then, The One,” he said, and Torren thought, frantically. Who was ‘The One’? But he dared not ask.

“Greatly can I reward you, if you serve me,” the god said, adding to Torren’s growing confusion. Of course he could! And greatly punish him if he didn’t!

Suddenly, behind him, Torren saw a sight which shocked him almost as much as the appearance of Torren-Ra; a sight which caused Grengin himself to cry out. The Spirit House, which had stood on this hill, unchanged, all their lives; the Spirit House, with its ring of mushrooms, its ginger bread walls and ceiling, with the unslaked fireplace sending smoke continuously into the air, the Spirit House flickered, and transformed.

Once, twice, thrice it silently flickered and changed, each time transforming instantaneously into another house. A house they  had heard of all our lives but had never seen.

“See that you serve me!” Torren-ra roared, and vanished. Torren looked at Grengin who looked back, mouth badly agape. Their whole lives had just changed and neither had any idea into what.

“What… what should we do?” Grengin asked. “Did you see the house?”

“Yes, and I saw the god!” Torren said. “But I have no idea what he meant. What ‘one’?”

“I dunno. But the house!”

Torren sighed. Fauns were so obsessed about the Spirit House. “What about it? What do you want to do?”

“Can we go up and see?”

“Sure, Grengin,” Torren said. Here they had had a visitation, a manifestation, a full-blown appearance, from Torren-Ra and all Grengin could talk about was the Spirit House.

The two trotted up the hill to the house, and Grengin rushed in, trotting from room to room, and stopping, every few seconds, to peer out the window. “Anything changed?” Torren asked him, after he had made a complete circuit about twelve times.

“No, no, everything seems about the same. And nobody else seems to have noticed!”

Torren understood why his friend was excited. Every Faun wanted to be the one who was present at the return of the true humans… not to be part of a group of excited onlookers. While few creatures alive had ever seen then, true humans were rumored to have all sorts of exciting and new things to trade. His own mother had some jewlery, passed down to her, from a long ago trade with a true human.

“No, they don’t,” Torren agreed, looking out the window himself, looking back at the meadow, back toward Torren-Ra had appeared.

“Don’t tell anyone, will you, Torren? About the house transforming? Please?”

“You mean, except for my mother, father, and all my siblings?”

“Yeah, except for them,” Grengin said, dismissively. What kind of son wouldn’t share such news with his father and family?

“I’ll have to tell about the visitation, too,” Torren said. His heart was still racing. Torren-Ra, himself? Who didn’t get a visitation, or even a visit, from one of the little flower goddesses? Or a stream god? Not a river god, of course, that was much more rare. But Torren remember one rainy day when he had spent three whole hours chatting with a stream god, the god of a very temporary stream that had only existed for those three hours, created by the rain and dying at the end.

The silly thing had mostly talked about the jealousies among the gods, and all about how those gods were sleeping with various other gods… in some pattern which made this god very jealous, although Torren hadn’t understood it at all. Like most centaurs his parents tended to be pretty stay-at-home types so he never really understood all of the various jealousies and adulteries.

“Yeah, sure, that was awesome! That was Torren-Ra, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh.”

“I only get to see Pan at the midwinter dance,” Grengin said. “Of course, I’ve seen Grengin-Ra a lot more than that.”

Torren nodded. Fauns tended to name their children after plants, and the Grengin-berry bush was a fairly rare bush, thus Grengin-Ra tended to pay a lot of attention to its particular worshipers and name-sakes. Torren remembered one time when Grengin-Ra had frozen Grengin’s tail for a whole week as punishment for some sin that Grengin had never told him about. It wasn’t all that rare for Grengin and Torren to see Grengin-Ra while out hunting together, especially after Grengin had made a blood sacrifice at one of his bushes.

“Don’t you tell about that, either!” Torren said. Grengin didn’t  see his parents for a week or so at a time, but he was an inveterate gossip, so he would tend to tell everyone else pretty much everything. Torren figured that was why Faun mothers weren’t worried to death about their kids… the faun gossip network probably brought her news every five minutes.

“Aw, Torren…” Grengin whined. Giving up talking about the switching of the house was his own idea, his own secret, but giving up talking about Torren-ra was something else.

“They’re probably related,” Torren said, and saw his friend’s face get studious (as studious as Faun’s get, which isn’t very).

“You could be right,” he said. “It would be a big coincidence, otherwise.”

“So, no talking about Torren-Ra!” Torren insisted.

“Ok,” he said, reluctantly.

“I need to get something for us to eat,” Torren said. “My family needs the meat.”

“Ok,” Grengin replied and, with many a backward look, the two went, together, off into the forest.

03: So Much to Learn

Yitzi lay awake in the dark, listening to the crickets, the birds, and most important of all, the silence. He was alone. For the first time in years, he had his own bedroom! His little brothers were sharing a bedroom, his sisters were sharing a bedroom, but for now, for the first time since Tzvi Hirsch had been six months old – he was alone.

He certainly wasn’t going to admit to missing his brothers moving around in their sleep, much less their crazy energy just when he wanted to read before bedtime. And having actual privacy was an unaccustomed luxury. Still, it seemed strange to hear them across the hallway rather than right there in the room with him.

He wondered how they were handling this new adventure – moving hundreds of miles away to a new neighborhood. Had they even noticed how different it was? Their old development had had maybe three different house designs; you could walk into a friend’s house and instantly know where everything was. Here? He’d been watching the houses since they turned off the highway, and hadn’t spotted more than a few that even looked similar.

Two-year-old Uri Noach almost certainly wouldn’t have noticed; he’d slept most of the way, and Mom had carried him right into the house. Now he was mostly excited about moving from a crib to an actual bed. Tzvi Hirsch was old enough, at age four, to notice what was going on around him, but would he understand? Probably not. Of course, he might have been exhausted from the trip.

And I’m the only one who’s made a friend already, Yitzi told himself. A Jewish friend, even if he wasn’t observant. Well, Dad had worked with lots of non-observant Jews back home. Yitzi smiled and shook his head. How long would it be before he started thinking of this new house as home?

Then he smelled it. Eema had started baking. He lay back and relaxed as the aroma of cookies baking washed over him. Knowing her, they were probably intended as gifts for their new neighbors. Well, he’d volunteer to take some to Danny’s house in the morning. A contented smile on his face, Yitzi sank into the welcoming arms of sleep.

He awoke the next morning to a light rapping on the door. “You awake, Buddy?” his father whispered from the other side. Yitzi opened his eyes and looked out the window. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, so he hadn’t overslept.

“Just getting up, Abba,” he murmured in response, sat up and stretched.

“OK. See you in the library.”

By the time Yitzi had washed up, dressed, and made downstairs, his father was already wearing his tallis and tefillin. Yitzi, of course, wore neither as yet. “East is that way,” his father said, and the two of them turned to begin the morning prayers.

“Feels strange not to be reading from the Torah on a Thursday morning,” Yitzi commented, as they finished, half an hour later.

“Once we’re settled in, we’ll start advertising and inviting men to join us, but it takes time,” his father reminded him, while taking off his tefillin. “This is all very unfamiliar to most non-religious Jews, so we’re not likely to have the ten men we need for a week-day minyan for a while. Chabad will send us guests for Shabbos, but we’re going to have to build things up locally. You won’t remember, but the last time, it took me more than a year before I had enough men to do regular weekday Torah readings.”

Rabbi Feinman was just removing his prayer shawl when the doorbell rang. He looked at his son with surprise. “Now who could that be?” He hurried to the door and opened it. There stood Danny, wearing jeans and a Boston Red Sox t-shirt, and looking more nervous than he’d been the previous day.

“Oh. Hi,” Danny gasped. “I was wondering if–“ He stopped, staring at the rabbi’s left arm for a moment before catching himself. “I mean. I met this new kid yesterday and Mom said I could go over his house – he’s in the old Paisebell place – and Mom said I should invite Yitzi, and…” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Anyway, it’s for the whole day and there’s lots of cool stuff to explore. Can you come?”

He’d directed that last to Yitzi, who had come over to stand behind his father, and a bit to the side to see their visitor. The target of his question looked up and asked, “What do you think, Abba?”

“Meeting the neighbors sounds like a great idea, Yitzi, but we still have a lot of unpacking to do.” He indicated the many boxes of books and the bookcases that still needed to be assembled. As his son’s face fell, he turned to the other boy. “What time were you planning on going over?”

“But Mom said–“ Danny looked thoughtful. “Any time this morning is fine.” He slumped. “I think – how long will it take to finish?”

Yitzi’s eyes widened. As nervous as Danny had looked, it would have been understandable if he’d taken the news with relief, but he wasn’t. Could Danny actually want him to go? Playing a hunch, he suggested, “if you could help, I bet we could get it done faster.”

Danny open his mouth to respond, closed it, then ventured, “Well…“

Yitzi exchanged glances with his father, who said, “Daniel, if you decide to help, and the two of you work hard, we’ll call the job done for the day at ten.”

Danny looked completely overwhelmed. He opened his mouth again, but nothing came out for several seconds as he looked back and forth between the other two. Finally, he managed. “O- Ok… I guess… I mean,,, I guess so.” Still, he glanced back uncomfortably at the door as Rabbi Feinman closed it.

“Have you had breakfast, Danny? We were just about to sit down,” Yitzi’s father asked.

Once again the boy could only manage a tentative, “OK” but he followed his hosts to the kitchen. He seemed to relax just a bit only when Rabbi Feinman announced that he would start working now and eat his breakfast alone after the boys were done.

Yitzi watched his father go and turned to his guest with a welcoming smile. “You want Cheerios, Rice Krispies or Cinnamon Toast Crunch?”

“B-but… that’s so normal!” Danny gasped. Then he added hurriedly. “I mean, I’m not saying you’re not normal, but… I mean, I thought–”

Yitzi laughed. “It’s OK. I’m probably a lot more used to meeting Reform Jews than you are to meeting Orthodox Jews. We mostly eat the same kinds of things you do, as long as they’re kosher – and most cereals are. So can I pour you a bowl?”

In addition to the cereal, the two were soon munching on sticky buns Mrs. Feinman had made the previous night. Danny had listened while Yitzi made the blessings on the food, and had known to say “amen” before eating.

“So,” Yitzi asked between bites. “You’re a Red Sox fan?”

“You like baseball, too?” Danny asked, amazed.

“Sure,” grinned his host. “I grew up near Boston.”

“Did you get to go to Fenway?”

“Yeah, Abba and I used to go a few times a year.”

“That’s great”, Danny said, enviously. “It’s kind of far from here, so I’ve only been once.” He paused and looked towards the exit from the kitchen. “Yitzi,” he said in a lowered voice. “Is there something wrong with your Dad’s arm?”

“No…,” Yitzi answered, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when I came in, he had his sleeve rolled up, and there were all these welts on it. I was just wondering what happened.”

Yitzi had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “You mean seven lines across his left forearm?”

“I didn’t count them.”

“Those are tefillin marks. He’d just taken off his tefillin, and they last for a while.”

Danny’s mouth made a small ‘o’ of surprise and Yitzi waited to see if he would ask to see them. Abba always said you weren’t suppose to push. If people wanted to know more, they would ask.

Danny didn’t look about to ask, though. Instead, he just muttered, “I’ve heard of it… never seen one…”

“Not surprising,” Yitzi hasted to point out before he could get defensive. “If you’re not Orthodox, why would you?”

“Right.”

Still, Danny looked a bit intimidated, and suddenly wasn’t talking or even meeting his eyes. Yitzi shook his head. He wished he knew how his father always managed to make people comfortable. He retreated to the one non-religious thing he knew about his new friend. “So, are you in a baseball league? Are there pick-up games?”

“Um… well, there probably are. My friends and I mostly just toss the ball around or take turns batting. Nothing serious. It’s probably a bit late for you to join a league.”

“Oh. Not me. I’m not so great at baseball. I just thought you…” He caught Danny’s eye and the two of them started laughing.

“One of the world’s shortest books,” Danny guffawed. “Great Jewish baseball players!”

“Well there was Koufax, and Greenberg, and… uh…”

“Al Rosen, Ken Holtzman…”

Yitzi shook his head. “You got me there. I don’t know either of them. But the Sox have Kevin Youkilis, and he’s pretty good.”

“Yup!” The boys smiled at one another, and Danny said, “I guess we’re done. Let’s go help your Dad.”

Yitzi held up a hand. “We should bentsch first.” At Danny’s startled look, he corrected himself. “I mean, say the blessing after the meal.” He grabbed a couple of bentschers – small booklets with the relevant blessings – and handed one to Danny after opening it to the correct page.

Danny held the booklet uncertainly, and gamely tried to follow along as Yitzi sped through the short after-blessing for grain products. With an embarrassed grin, he handed it back once Yitzi was finished.

Yitzi cringed. “Sorry. I should have done it more slowly.”

“Yeah, I think we’d probably still be reading it this afternoon if you waited for me to finish!” That brought another laugh from Yitzi as the boys headed for the library.

As promised, Rabbi Feinman declared at ten o’clock that they’d done enough. “If you boys are ready, I can take you over now. Your lunch is in the kitchen, Yitzy.”

Soon they were pulling out of the driveway, with the boys in the back seat. Danny leaned over and whispered urgently, “why are you bringing your own lunch?”

A bit surprised at the question and the whispering, Yitzy responded in the same tone, “They’re not going to have anything kosher, are they?”

Danny lowered his voice even more. “It’s all right. I won’t tell your Dad.” Seeing no response, he continued, “Look, it’s going to be embarrassing if you walk in and first off, you won’t eat their food. What are they going to think of us?”

Yitzi winced. He automatically looked to his father for help before deciding it wouldn’t be appropriate. “Danny,” he whispered urgently. “I can’t. I don’t eat trefe – non-kosher food. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Danny looked as though he was going to explode. After a quick glance at the rabbi, he leaned in even closer. “Yitzi. Please. Don’t do this.”

Yitzi just stared. All of friends “back home” and the boys whose parents had brought them to his father’s outreach center had understood, even if they hadn’t yet been observant. What exactly was Danny afraid of? He didn’t know what to say, and shrugged, only to see his new friend slump in his seat.

He racked his brains. For this first time, it occurred to him to wonder exactly who these people were that they were visiting. Given Danny’s reaction, they probably weren’t Jewish, but if they were antisemites, why had Danny been so eager to visit, earlier? He sure didn’t seem all that eager now.

“Which house, Danny?” Rabbi Feinman asked, as the car started to slow.

Danny looked up and sighed. “The second one on the right.” When the car stopped, he sighed again and opened his door, but when Yitzi’s Dad opened his own door, Danny looked up in alarm.

Yitzi noticed and spoke quietly to his father. “Tati, I think Danny might not want you to come in.”

“I just thought that I should-” the Rabbi started, but looked over at the other boy, stopped and chuckled, “I guess even other people’s parents can be embarrassing, sometimes. I’ll wait in the car until you two get in the house, OK?” and settled back in his seat.

Yitzi turned to head to the house and whistled when he got his first good look at it. “That’s some house!”

“Yeah,” his friend agreed. “Do you like the cherubs? They’re from the Bible, aren’t they?”

Yitzi looked back and forth at the front of the house. “Where? I don’t see anything like look remotely like keruvim.”

“The fat little babies. I mean, they have horns, so Andrew says they’re gargoyles, but Natalie says they’re cherubs.”

With that description, Yitzi could easily pick out the figures on the house, and stared at them for a moment. Then he turned to Danny and said, “Those are not keruvim. The Hebrew Bible identifies them as guardians. Didn’t you ever see Raiders of the Lost Ark? The angels who defend the ark are keruvim.”

“Then why does everybody call those, cherubs?”

“I have no idea. We could ask my Dad…”

“It’s not important. Come on, I want to introduce you. Don’t say anything about the food, yet, OK?” Danny led the way to the house and rang the bell.

Andrew answered the door within seconds. “Danny! Great to see you!” He looked curiously at Yitzi, and then blinked in astonishment at his . “You’re a real Jew, aren’t you? Like in the Bible?”

Now it was his visitors’ turn to blink. “I’m Jewish, too,” Danny pointed out.

“Well, yeah,” their host countered, “but he’s wearing one of those yarmulke things, and you’re not. I’ll bet he does actual Jewish things that you don’t do.”

Yitzi grinned. It looked as though things were going to be just fine. He waved to let his father know.

That got another reaction from Andrew. “Who’s that?”

“My Dad.”

“Is he a rabbi?”

“Actually, yes” Yitzi laughed. He glanced at Danny, who was staring at their host with some dismay.

“Cool!” Then Andrew caught himself. “We should probably go in.” He led his guests inside, still chattering to Yitzi. “Do you eat kosher food, too?” He asked, sounding as if that would be almost past excitement.

“Yes, I–”

“Danny!” A girl’s voice called from the stairs. “You’re back.”

Yitzi turned to look at the newcomer and then quickly looked away. She was wearing nothing but a halter top and skimpy shorts, showing a lot more skin than was decent! The women and girls who came to the outreach center had always worn skirts or dresses, and had exposed very little naked flesh. Then he remembered that she was also his hostess, and not looking at her would be rude, so he forced himself to look directly at her face.

But Andrew had noticed, and turned on his sister. “Natalie!” he saod, dragging her away from their guests. Yitzi could only catch a word here and there: “real Jew” and “Father said” and something about clothing. Obviously, it wasn’t considered appropriate clothing in this household, either, which was interesting.

Danny stared after them. “Now what was that all about?”

“She wasn’t very tsnius, was she? I mean – the way she was dressed.”

“Huh? It’s summer! Lots of girls dress like that.”

“Not religious Jewish girls.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “She’s not Jewish, OK?”

“Sorry about that,” Andrew called out as he rushed back. “Family issues.”

“With what?” Danny asked.

“Well…” Andrew started, but was immediately interrupted by Yitzi.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at a picture on the wall, which depicted a hand, palm up, with what appeared to be a railroad spike through it. The horrified boy was trying to understand why anyone would have such an image, and what it meant about how they would treat strangers. To be sure, Andrew had seemed really enthusiastic, but torture seemed a really odd subject to publicize.

“Oh,” responded Andrew, turning red. “That’s just a Bible verse.”

“Bible verse?” Yitzi had been so revolted by the content, that he hadn’t even noticed the writing: “I am crucified with Christ…” he read and then stopped, realizing what he was reading. “Oh, that’s…”

“Sure,” said Danny, “haven’t you ever been in a church? They have the guy nailed to crosses all over the place.”

“That’s Catholics,” Andrew said, hastily.

“No, I’ve never been in a church,” Yitzi responded almost simultaneously. “We’re not allowed.”

“You’re welcome to come to ours,” Andrew declared. “At least, I’m pretty sure, you would be – I haven’t been there yet, but I can ask, on Sunday.”

“No, I mean, we’re not supposed to go to a– well, to places that… that aren’t… you know…” Now it was Yitzi who was blushing. He really didn’t want to say anything offensive, and suddenly realized he wasn’t sure what a politic way would be to translate beis shegetz. Calling Andrew’s church a “house of abomination” didn’t seem very smart, especially given that his father had gone, and he could be facing a very long walk home if he got into a fight.

Andrew, fortunately, didn’t seem to be very good at reading expressions. “That’s the old days,” he reassured Yitzi. “I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have you visit. Or your Dad!”

“Yeah, Yitzi,” Danny chimed in. “Didn’t you have any Christian friends back in your old home?”

“Not really,” Yitzi admitted. “My friends are mostly the kids at school and camp, and they’re all Jewish.”

Andrew stared, as though wondering how anybody in American could not have lots of Christian friends. Danny was staring, too, and Yitzi didn’t know how to respond. The seconds crawled.

Suddenly, Andrew said, “Hey! You guys want to see the attic? It’s really cool!” The other two nodded their heads in relief. “Great. We should get some flashlights. All it has are these tiny windows. Mom? Mom!”

“Andrew, don’t yell,” a female voice answered as a woman came around the corner. “Oh, Danny, it’s nice that you came back. And who is your other friend, Andrew?”

“This is…” he started and then looked at his new friend with panic in his eyes, having just realized that he hadn’t learned his name.

“I’m Yitzi, ma’am.”

“Yitzi,” Andrew repeated, nodding to himself. “Mom, can we have some flashlights? We’re going to explore the attic!”

“Flashlights? I think your father might–”

“Thanks, Mom!” Andrew exclaimed, darting toward a door at the other side of the room. “Dad! Can we have some flashlights?”

“We?’ asked his father, coming through the door. “Ah! Danny, right?” He shook hands with the boy and then looked expectantly at Yitzi.

“That’s Yitzi, Dad,” explained Andrew, sounding very impatient.

“Yitzi? As in Yitzhak? What we could call, Isaac?”

“Yes, sir,” Yitzi responded, as Danny looked on in amazement.

“One of my favorite stories… Yitzhak and Rivkah. You need flashlights?”

“Yeah, Dad,” Andrew said, dancing from foot to foot. “We’re going to explore the attic.”

“Ah, yes. Well, they’re probably still packed, but I think I can find one…”

Andrew’s father had barely handed it over when Andrew went dashing up the stairs, with the other two in close pursuit.

“This way!” he shouted, leading the others to the other end of the hallway and turning sharply.

“This is an attic?” Danny asked, as he rounded the corner. “It looks more like just another floor.”

“I dunno,” Andrew shrugged. “I call it an attic.”

“Your sister’s probably already explored it,” Yitzi said, disappointed. No boy likes to be beaten by a girl.

“Natalie?” scoffed Andrew. “Even if she wanted to go in first to spite me, she’d never dare until the cobwebs were cleaned out.” The boys nodded at one another. Everyone knew girls were afraid of cobwebs and bugs. That was something that needed no argument at all.

As host, of course, Andrew led the way, shining his flashlight before him.

Yitzi stared. The attic, if that’s what it was, ran the length of the house. The gable windows looked as though they hadn’t been cleaned in year, and the light from them was meager, enough to see that the attic was packed with something, but not enough to tell exactly what.

As Andrew shined his flashlight carefully along the sides, it became clear. There were boxes and boxes stacked in neat rows from one end to the other.

“This is awesome,” Danny whispered. Yitzi nodded.

“What’s that up there?” Danny asked, pointing up near the ceiling. Andrew played the beam of his flashlight in the direction indicated until he had illuminated the object that had drawn his friend’s attention.

“Looks like a light switch! Perfect!” He tried to flip it, but it was just out of his reach. “Danny,” he said, “you’re the tallest. Can you turn it on?”

Danny reached up and threw the switch. Nothing happened. He flipped it back and forth a couple of times. “Must be burned out.”

“Crazy place for a light switch, anyway,” Yitzi commented. “I hope we can reach the light to change the bulb.” The boys looked around, but the ceiling appeared to be devoid of any light fixtures.

“We’ll just have to come back with more flashlights,” Andrew said. “Or a lantern – that would be cooler. But that can wait for tomorrow. How about we open some of these boxes? Who knows what we’ll find!”

02: Going Up

Andrew sat in the van and, well, moped. It was exciting to be going somewhere new, but he wasn’t happy to be leaving all his friends.

Bradley, sitting beside him, was fooling around on his iphone, probably doing Facebook. He didn’t care about the move. He was getting ready to go to college soon, and only really cared about his schoolwork, his girlfriend, and the games he played online.

Natalie, sitting on the other side of Bradley, was asleep. She always fell asleep on long trips, and they had been four hours in the car already.

“Kids, this is our exit,” their Dad said, suddenly, slowing down. Ruth leaned over Andrews shoulder and they watched him pull off.

“A Denny’s, Dad!” Ruth said, can we eat?”

Bradley lifted his head up, but his Dad shook his head, “No, we’re almost there, to our new house! Mom can cook us something there.”

Mom didn’t look too happy with this idea, but no one argued with Dad when he was in one of his moods. Andrew wasn’t exactly eager to stop himself, “Where do we go now, Dad?” he asked.

“We drive past the college, then off into the woods.”

The college was pretty, all green lawns and old fashioned buildings. Andrew’s Dad was going to work there, teaching writing.

Their whole life had been turned upside down just four months ago, when their dad had gotten into some religious kick. Suddenly they were going to a new church, getting ready to homeschool, Mom was expecting a new baby… and they were moving.

Not that that last was actually related. Great Aunt Cynthia had, after long years in a nursing home, finally take ill (pneumonia) and, after a couple of weeks of visiting her every day in the hospital, she died. Then her lawyer had contacted Dad and they had found out that he was her heir, and that she had left him this big old house in the country, and a bunch of money.v
Not enough to retire on, but enough so that Mom didn’t object too loudly when Dad asked her to stop working, and that he could take this job at the university teaching writing.

“What’s this, Dad?” Andrew asked. The car had turned off a main road into a subdivision, with a big stone gateway.
“It’s a college suburb,” Dad said, as they all stared out the window at the houses passing by. Nice houses, big houses, on smallish lots. “A lot of teachers and all live here.”

“But why are we going here, Dad?” Ruth asked, “You said we were going to live in the country.”

“We will, sweetheart,” their Dad laughed. “Our road is on the other side of this neighborhood.”

Andrew stared out the window, excited to see where they were going. These houses were so different from the neighborhood he had come from. Each of the houses was different, a different pattern, a different paint scheme. And they each had their own yard, with a fence around it. The kids that lived here must love it! And to think, his new house would be even more ‘country’ than this!

He worried, though, that it would be so far out in the ‘country’ that he wouldn’t be able to make friends. And they would be homeschooling, so he wouldn’t be able to make any at school. Oh, well, Natalie was good at making friends, and some of the girls were sure to have brothers his age or so.

As they came around the corner he saw another moving van, and a family, moving in and out of a house. And then, beyond them, a boy, about his age, standing looking at them. Andrew waved, frantically. Maybe this boy was from this new church his dad was going to take them to. His dad had said that everyone in the church had lot’s of kids. He would love to know someone at the church before he had to go there!

The kid looked startled, then waved, then dashed for his bike. “Dad, Dad, slow down!” Andrew said.

“What?”

“There’s this kid, and he’s trying to keep up with us on his bike. He saw me wave and he’s probably trying to see where we are going. Dad!”

“Don’t be silly,” Mom said. She was always accusing people of being silly. “How can he know who we are, or where we are going?”

Andrew turned and watched the boy, still pedaling away after them, until a bend in the road hid him, and he sat back, disappointed. A new friend, lost already. Maybe he’d be able to bike back down there once he got a bike. But then he’d have to knock on the door, and introduce himself, and everything…

He got distracted with the road, almost immediately, though. It was a cool road, curving, and climbing up this hill. They passed two driveways to their left, which, he could see, led to some nice houses and then, finally, although it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes later, a driveway off to the right, leading steeply downhill through the woods.

He craned his neck, but couldn’t see the house. There were trees, a whole forest of trees, on each side of the driveway which, after a few yards, bent sharply to the left.

Three more interminable bends and then, finally, the driveway leveled out into a clearing and everyone, even Bradley (Natalie having woken up when Andrew yelled about the boy) drew in a sharp breath.

“Cool!” Andrew said and,

“Weird!” Bradley said.

The girls both squealed, but Mom said, “Charles!”

“Well,” Dad said, kind of gulping. “I knew it different.”

They were all staring at the house, of course. It was painted kind of a dark pink. Rather like a raspberry flavored sucker, with white trim. It was a three story house. Or, rather, Andrew thought, two stories and a high attic. The windows were huge, at least the ones he could see, the ones on the second story. The first story had an awesome porch running all along the front of the house and wrapping along the side, and the attic, well, it had some gables with little windows.

And the steps! It had a wide staircase leading up to the porch; really wide with carved handrails on either side.
But the coolest touch as far as Andrew was concerned were the gargoyles. The roofs were just surrounded by them. All fat, naked little demon things with short stubby wings. Andrew had never seen gargoyles like them. For one thing, gargoyles were always made of stone, and these were wood. For another thing, they were all painted. Painted in bright colors, or colors that had been bright when they were painted, Andrew figured. And in all sorts of bright colors. A couple pink like the house, but others were bright green, yellow, orange… the bright blue ones seemed almost calm compared to the other colors.

And these gargoyles were, like, grinning. Smiling grinning, not, you know, grimacing or leering or any of the ‘nasty’ grins, but really grinning… like they were all telling each other some great joke.

And the yard! The front yard was full of lawn animals, or whatever they were called, you know, all made of stone. And not boring turtles and flamingos and all (although there was a turtle) but really cool ones… fauns and centaurs and even a dragon! And, again, these were all painted; in this case more ‘realistically’ if you can call it that with a fantasy animal like a faun.

“This is just so awesome!” Andrew said, and while the other kids didn’t say anything he thought they agreed, even Bradley… who was OK when he wasn’t wrapped up with girl stuff.

“Different!” Mom said. “Charles, that house is down right bizarre. When on Earth was it built?”

“I’m not sure,” Dad said. “It is one of the oldest houses in this area. My great uncle was kind of a strange bird.”
“A strange bird indeed,” Mom said. “His wife died in a lunatic asylum!”

“It was a nursing home!” Dad protested.

“They call them that,” Mom said. “But everyone knows she was nuts.”

“She was very nice,” Dad protested. “I was her favorite nephew.”

“You were the only one who would visit her in… anyway, she was very nice, as you say, but you can’t deny she wasn’t right in the head.”

“She told great stories, Mom!” Natalie protested.

“If you like that kind of thing,” Mom said.

“I like the house!” Natalie protested. “Especially the cherubs.”

“Cherubs!” Andrew said, disgusted at his sisters description. “They aren’t cherubs, they’re gargoyles!”

“Their naked, fat, baby’s with wings,” Natalie said. “That’s a cherub.”

“They have horns!” Andrew protested. “That makes them demons, and demons are gargoyles!”

“Anyway, whatever they are, and whatever the house is like, it is ours now, and we live here, so we will have to make the best of it,” Mom said. “It looks large, anyway. Let’s go in and pick out bedrooms and all.”

Andrew rushed into the house, all excited. Bradley, Mom, and Dad kind of ambled after him, with Ruth clinging closely to Mom’s hand, but Natalie raced with him. Twins, Andrew and Natalie had an odd relationship. They were super close, and super competitive. Right now, for example, they were both looking for the ‘best’ bedroom.

Right inside the house, like in one of those old movies, was a big wooden staircase, like the kind you see the heroine standing on halfway up. Natalie and Andrew raced side by side up the staircase. At the top of the stairs there was a hallway branching off to the right and left, and they split up there: with Andrew darting off to the right, and his twin sister off to the left.

Andrew raced down the hallway opening door after door, and exclaiming over the rooms. They fit with the rest of the house: wood floors, walls, everything. None of them had bathrooms, though, and Andrew wanted to see them all, so he raced to door after door throwing them open with a series of bangs.

He finally found a bathroom at the end of the hallway, one with an old fashioned tub, you know, the kind with the feet. No shower.

He closed the bathroom door and saw that there was one more door, here, at the end of the hallway, and he opened it.
It wasn’t a room, but a stairway, and, for a second he thought of closing the door but then, instead, he darted up the stairs. Two reasons, really. First because he was curious. It was a skinny little wooden stairway, and he wondered where it went. Secondly, because he had this bizarre thought that maybe it did lead to another bedroom, one like in ‘Secondhand Lions’, which was one of his favorite films.

It wasn’t a bedroom, but it was cool anyway. It was a big, long, low attic. Totally filled with stuff, too! Within seconds Andrew was lost in explorations. All this stuff!

The attic ran the whole length of the house, with an aisle all the way down the middle. On either side was piles and piles of stuff… all organized in stacks. At the far end of the attic, where Andrew could barely see, were what looked like bookshelves.

But, nearer, were boxes… actually old trunks, like one sees in movies, with stickers all over them. He went down one stack and saw an enormous trunk that said, “Tahiti”, on it, and sat down, and opened it…

“Andrew!!” Andrew started, hitting his head on a rafter, holding back the curse that wanted to come out. He didn’t curse, his dad would kill him, but he had friends that did and, nowadays, they always wanted to come out.

“Up here, Mom,” he yelled back, frantically putting stuff back in the trunk he had opened. He would have to come up here, later.

“What are you doing up here?” His mom said, her voice appearing above the pile of junk by the stairs.

“Can I have this for my room?” Andrew blurted out.

“Don’t be silly,” his mom said, looking around. “This is an attic, not a bedroom. And all this junk! What are we going to do with it? I wonder if any of it is valuable?”

She looked around, and then started, “Anyway, you have a friend waiting for you outside. I guess you were right,” she said, “that kid on the bike must have been following our trailer. I have no idea how he knew what driveway to come down, but he did, and he asked if you could come out.”

“Your father said you could,” she said, sounding slightly disapproving. “He said that it was good…”

“Thanks, Mom,” Andrew said, darting past her down the stairway. A friend, already!!

“I get this room!” Natalie called to him when he reached the hallway, standing beside a door on the far end of the hallway with a box in her hands, obviously eager to stake her claim.

“Fine, whatever,” Andrew said, dashing down the stairway. What did he care for rooms when there was a potential friend waiting outside, one he wouldn’t have to go ‘meet’ on his own!

The boy was sitting on his bike, with his feet on the ground, just under her window, and he grinned when Andrew came out the front door and race over to him.

“Hey!” Andrew said, sticking out his hand.

“Hi,” The boy said. “I’m Danny, Daniel Rappaport.”

Rappaport? Andrew thought to himself. What kind of name is that? It sounded French. Whatever. He looked nice, anyway. “I’m Andrew, Andrew Smith,” Andrew said. “You live down there, where I saw you?”

“Yes. It was totally bizarre. I had just gotten done meeting this other guy, and then your van goes by.”

“How did you know where we were going?” Andrew asked, remembering the way the boy had frantically chased after them, and how he had tried to get his Dad to slow down the car so he could follow.

“There’s only three houses on this road,” Danny said. “That and the Forest Service station, and I knew you weren’t going there. I’m know kids that live in each of the other two houses, and I was pretty sure they hadn’t moved out, so, I thought you were coming here. I never imagined anyone would come here, though.” Danny added, looking up at the house.
“It’s cool, isn’t it?” Andrew asked, looking back at the house himself. “My great aunt owned it, and she just died, so we got to come live here.”

“Wow. You’re lucky. There’s all sorts of trails and everything out behind the house, going off into the state park. My friends and I camp out there sometimes… not on your land,” he said, hastily, “in the state park. It runs all along this side of the road, except for here, and we just go off into the woods.”

“Wow,” Andrew said. “You want to come in?”

“No, I can’t,” Daniel said. “I have to study.”

“Study?” Andrew said. “It’s the middle of the summer! Oh, are you homeschooled? We’re going to be homeschooled.”

“No,” Daniel said, “I’m studying for my Bar Mitzphah.”

“Bar… Oh? You’re Jewish?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, sounding kind of annoyed. He looked like he was going to say something else, and Andrew was just getting ready to tell him that this was cool, that he had never met anyone Jewish before, when, suddenly, from above their heads…

“Hi!” Natalie said, startling Danny so much he almost fell off his bike. “I’m Natalie!”

“Hi,” Danny said, recovering himself, as Andrew frowned at her. She was leaning out a window just above their heads.

Trust his twin sister to try to be all ‘social’ when he was just making a friend all on his own. She was useful to take to parties and things, where Andrew never knew what to do; but he was doing this on his own!v
“How old are you?” Natalie asked, ignoring Andrew’s frown.

“Twelve,” Danny said, “Twelve and a half.”

“I’m eleven and a half,” Natalie said. “And so’s Andrew.”

Andrew watched Danny’s face as it went from confusion to comprehension, the way people always did when Natalie played the ‘twin’ card. “You’re twins?” Danny asked, wonderingly.

“Yep,” Andrew said, frowning again at Natalie and trying, again, to get her to go away.

“I… I’ve never met a twin before,” Danny said, falling into her trap. Natalie was always getting people to say this, just so she could say…

“Well, now you’ve met two!” Natalie said, grinning.

“Oh, just ignore her!” Andrew said, “She likes doing that to people. You sure you don’t want to see the house? Just real quick?”

Daniel looked at his watch, frowned, and sighed, “I can’t, really,” he said, “I’d love to, but I can’t, not right now. I gotta get home or my mom will kill me…”

“Can you come back tomorrow?” Andrew asked, and Daniel’s face lit up.

“I’d love to. What time? I’m sure my mom will let me come. I’ll tell her I’m helping you move in and all.”

“I’ll save some boxes for you to move,” Andrew said, grinning. “And we can explore the house, and you can show me the woods.”

“So, what time?” Daniel asked, picking his bike up from where it had fallen and getting on it.

“Whenever,” Andrew said. “My Mom and Natalie get up early, and they can just send you to my room if I’m asleep. Anytime, really. You can stay for lunch and all, too, I’m sure my mom will let you.”

“Great,” Daniel said. A few minutes later Andrew watched Danny pedal up the driveway, his heart pounding. A friend! Already!

And Jewish, too. That would be interesting to learn about. Andrew would have to check out a book about Jews out of the library when he got there. Of course, the Bible talked a lot about Jews.

“Have you picked out your room, yet, sport?” Dad asked.

“Not yet, Dad, I was busy meeting my new friend.”

“That was certainly good luck for you,” Dad said. Andrew saw that Dad was carrying a box through a door, so, curious, he followed Dad.

“Is this your room?” he asked, looking at the large room, right off the front porch. Dad was taking the box into a bathroom, a large open room with another of those old-fashioned bathtubs.

“Yup, this looks like the master bedroom.”

“Cool!”

“Actually, yes. It has some excellent cross ventilation and was built right off the porch so it should be, indeed, rather ‘cool’.”

Andrew went back into the living room, and was checking out the formal dining room and kitchen when Natalie found him. “Hey, come on up, I’ve picked a room for you. next to mine.”

“Ok. Just a sec, let me grab a box of my stuff.”

He went and grabbed a box of books and Natalie, having gotten a suitcase with some clothes, led him eagerly up the stairs. They always worked like this. When they both cared, they competed. But when one of them was busy or distracted, the other one ‘picked’ for them… often giving up whatever they would like for the other twin. Natalie was all right.
“What do you think?” she asked, leading him to a room across from hers.

The room itself was like the other rooms, but the window… “This is awesome, Sis! I can see a creek!”

“I thought you’d like it.”

“Kids! Dinner!” Mom called and Andrew ran downstairs with Natalie, very content with his first day in his new house.


Andrew awoke, casting a bleary eye around his room, looking for his cell phone, which was insistently buzzing. He crawled off his mattress and burrowed in a pile of his clothes from last night, finally finding it.

“Hello?” he asked, sleepily. He had gotten rather distracted, last night, going through his boxes of books, and found a couple of books he hadn’t even remembered he had, and stayed up way late reading them.

“Oh, hi, Andrew? Did I wake you?”

Andrew’s mind whirled. Who was this. “Danny?” he asked, suddenly sitting up, excited. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry for getting you up?”

Andrew looked outside, “No, no, I should have been getting up anyway. You coming? Are you here?” he asked, getting up and looking out the window. Perhaps Daniel had been too nervous to knock on his door.

“No, no, I haven’t left yet. But there is this other new kid, you know, the one I told you about, the one with the van next to our house. I was wondering. Would you mind if he came too? I mean, I haven’t asked him yet…”

“No, no, that would be great,” Andrew said. “When can you come?”

“I don’t know,” Daniel said. “I haven’t asked him yet. Do you think I should?”

“That would be great!” Andrew said.

“Oh, well, OK… I guess I’ll go do that…”

Andrew stared at the phone. That was odd. “I better go get in the shower,” he said to himself. “Who knows when they will get here? And how do I shower, anyway, in that funny bathtub?”

01: Friendly Strangers and Stranger Friends

“Daniel, have you practiced today?”

Wincing at the sound of his mother’s voice, Danny paused in the middle of bouncing balls off the garage door. Summer was almost over, he’d done nothing, and it was all an account of practicing for his bar mitzvah. “I’ll do it later, Mom,” he called back. Enviously, he watched a red-tail hawk wheel in the sky. Nobody was making the hawk practice. And why did he have to have such a long reading, anyway?

It wasn’t fair. None of his non-Jewish friends had to do it, and most of his Jewish friends had gotten theirs over with before the summer. His best friend Joey had had his in May, and had been allowed to spend six weeks in camp this summer.

“Not this year, Daniel,” his father had told him. “The bar mitzvah is costing us too much money, and you need to be practicing anyway.” So Danny had struggled with the tape Cantor Papir had made for him, trying to get the strange words and tune just right. Joey’s reading had been just ten verses – less than half of what Danny had to do.

But then there were the presents. Joey had gotten an iPad and a bunch of video games and a new bicycle… That what was kept Danny going – he knew there was a big payoff: the party and the presents. It was just that at times like this, with all of his friends away while he was stuck practicing, sometimes it didn’t seem worth it. At times like this, bouncing the ball against the garage and catching it in his mitt was about as much fun as he could get. If only his friends were around…

The sudden appearance of the moving van felt way too much like the answer to a prayer. Suspicious, Danny watched it stop next door, followed by a silver minivan. It would be too much to hope that this new family would have a 12-year-old boy for him to play with. Probably it would be all girls or all little kids or something like that. As he watched, the passenger-side door opened and a Mom came out. She immediately opened the side door and, to Danny’s disgust, lifted out a baby. Two more little girls followed.

I knew it, Danny thought, and turned his attention to the movers. At least that might be interesting, seeing them muscle the heavy furniture into the house. He heard, but did not see, the doors on the driver’s side open. If there was a boy, he should be out soon, but chances were, he’d be little, too, Danny moaned.

He did a double take and looked again at the Mom and the girls. Were they crazy? It was ninety degrees and they were all wearing ankle-length skirts and blouses with sleeves down to their wrists! Did they think, just because New Hampshire was north, that it didn’t get hot during the summer? Where were they from, anyway?

Then he saw the boy come around the back of the car and his heart leapt. He’s my age! he thought. I don’t believe it! The boy was wearing a black pants and a long-sleeve white shirt, so he also must have thought it was supposed to be cold out. He spotted Danny and took off his baseball cap to wave. That’s when Danny saw it. The other boy was wearing a yarmulke!

What were Orthodox Jews doing in Plymouth? Danny wondered, appalled. He’d known that there had to be something wrong with this new family. He’d never actually met an Orthodox Jew, but he knew about them. They took all this religion stuff to extremes, as though they were living back in the nineteenth century or something. I mean, how could you know how people like that would react?

He held his breath as the boy approached and greeted him with a big smile. “Hi! Looks like I’m your new neighbor. I’m Yitzy Feinman.”

“Um…” Danny stuck out his hand, trying to polite, but having trouble looking anywhere besides that skullcap. “D-danny Rappaport.”

The other boy stopped in surprise. “So you’re Jewish?” Evidently seeing Danny’s surprise, he explained, “Rappaport is a Jewish name, so I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Me too!” he grinned, pointing to the top of his head. “How old are you?”

“Uh… twelve… and a half.”

“When’s your bar mitzvah?”

“December… uh, the tenth.”

“So you’re older than me. I’m May 5th, Acharei Mos/Kedoshim. What’s your parashah?”

“My what?” Danny asked, confused at the unfamiliar words.

“Your Torah portion. What are you leyning?”

“What am I what? I don’t know half of what you’re saying.”

Yitzy looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. Are you reading from the Torah at your bar mitzvah?”

“Oh. Um… I’m doing the haftarah. Vayishlach. The whole book of Obadiah.” He’d been horribly shaken to learn that he had to read an entire book, until Cantor Papir had explained that it was only twenty-one verses.

“Hey, that’s cool!” He turned to the man who had come up behind him. “Abba, this is Danny Rappaport. His bar mitzvah is Vayishlach. Danny, this is my dad, Rabbi Feinman.”

An Orthodox rabbi? Nervously, Danny held out his hand. Rabbi Feinman wasn’t all that tall, but he had a thin dark beard and mustache, and of course, that frightening yarmulke. He was dressed like his son, in black pants and a long-sleeve white shirt, and Danny thought of how he’d learned that Pilgrims didn’t wear colors, due to some religious rule or other. Did Orthodox Jews do the same thing? He tried to remember how Mrs. Feinman and the girls had been dressed.

But at least Rabbi Feinman sounded friendly. “Very nice to meet you, Danny. It’s great to see that Yitzy will have somebody his age next door. Yitzy, go help your Eema.” And he turned back to direct the movers.

Well, at least I knew one word, Danny thought, I know that Eema means mother. He slowly backed away from the fence that separated the two properties, thinking hard. He couldn’t wait to tell Joey about this. Actual real live Orthodox Jews in Plymouth. Wow. He was still watching the men moving furniture and boxes, his baseball and mitt forgotten, when another moving van drove by, this one followed by a blue minivan. What was going on here?

As he stared after it, a boy in the back seat waved to him. It was another boy about his age, in fact. Then the truck and car turned down Village Mill Road and he knew weirdness had peaked. There were only three houses down that road, all a couple of miles away; he knew the people who lived in two of them well enough that he would have known if they were moving. But the third… the old Paisebel place had been vacant for as long as he could remember. Joey and he and several of their friends used to ride past it on their bikes and try to scare one another with stories about the last owner who, it was rumored, had died alone there decades ago. Who would have bought an old haunted house? He had to find out.

“Mom!” he shouted into the house. “I’m going for a ride! I’ll be back in an hour!” He hopped on his bike and sped after the van.