URI:
   DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Kotiah-Yovanovitch International School
  HTML https://kyis.createaforum.com
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       *****************************************************
   DIR Return to: Weekend Activities
       *****************************************************
       #Post#: 42--------------------------------------------------
       Run, Run, Run Away -- Part I
   DIR By: StoryGod
       Date: December 12, 2019, 4:01 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       It was a long walk down Ridge Road, to Hillcrest, to Hartsdale
       Avenue, and finally down onto Central Avenue where the suburban
       homes shaded by large, old trees gave way to traffic, and old,
       renovated stores. This could have been Rockland County  if not
       for the Chinese characters over at least one storefront. More
       than one girl complained.
       "It's less than a mile," Albina responded. She was no longer a
       mora. She was a gym teacher. Tikvah categorically hated gym
       teachers because they sided with the bigger, stronger, more
       graceful girls. Tikvah was neither big nor strong, but she kept
       her mouth shut. There was a great word, illusion. Tikvah smiled.
       "What's the joke?" Corianne asked.
       "No joke, I was thinking about gym teachers at my old school."
       "You liked gym!"
       Tikvah shook her head.
       "Gym sucked," Corianne replied. "They say I can sign up for
       intermediate swimming to get out of regular PE."
       "I'm stuck in beginning swimming."
       "Swimming is better than gym."
       "If I swim," thought Tikvah, "the water will wash everything
       that matters out of me." It did not matter that Corianne could
       swim and seemed solid and strong. She was... There were words
       Tikvah no longer used, not because it was politically correct,
       but because the words did not really make sense. Corianne could
       be any number of religions or ethnicities. Asking about this was
       a delicate matter.
       "OK, I need everybody to follow me across the street," Albina
       called out. "We're going to catch the truck to White Plains and
       all of you are going to try an ATM. After that we can do some
       shopping for the things you need. If we get back to dinner late,
       there won't be a line."
       "More grownup trickery talk," thought Tikvah as she draggled
       along across Central Avenue. She could always pretend Central
       Avenue was Route Fifty-Nine. "I've been gone a year and a half.
       That's one and a half tenths of my life or fifteen hundredths
       which makes fifteen percent. It's a dime and a nickel." Tikvah
       visualized the coins.
       On the far side of Central Avenue, Albina pointed out how to
       find a Beeline bus stop. Bee Line buses were for Westchester
       County, and they were like MTA buses in the city or TOR buses in
       Rockland County. Mommy never took buses in Rockland County
       because....mommy was not so politically correct in those days.
       Mommy got a ride with a woman driver and a car service. Tikvah
       remembered mommy and the driver making small talk in Yiddish. In
       boarding school, one took buses.
       The bus stopped in front of a jewelry store in a stucco building
       painted the color of gentile, yellow mustard, not the good brown
       kind, though brown mustard color would have been ugly for a
       building. The yellow paint on the jewelry store went well with a
       blue awning.
       The girls stood in a cluster by the bus stop pole, while Albina
       turned from gym teacher back into mora again.  "Can someone tell
       me what kind of stores we have around here?"
       "There's a Duane Reade," an African American girl with copper
       hair spoke up. "That's a drug store chain in New York City."
       "Good and what else do we have?"
       "Dairydel," Corianne read the name off the store across the
       street. "I think that's a supermarket."
       "It's a convenience store and small supermarket. What else do we
       have?"
       "There's a Central Avenue Deli," spoke up one of the few other
       small girls besides Tikvah and Corianne.
       "And they serve swine's flesh there," thought Tikvah.
       "Now what are some good things you can buy here?"
       "Jewelry," suggested Tikvah.
       "Do you have enough money?"
       "I will some day."
       "OK, what else?"
       "Candy," suggested Jupita.
       "Toothpaste," said the... girl who had forgotten hers.
       "Hey doesn't Duane Reade sell toothpaste?" asked the girl with
       long braids.
       "They do, but there are drug stores and Walmart in White Plains.
       We can get stuff there. Also everybody's bank is in White
       Plains. I want to see all of you girls try out the ATM."
       "But I already have money," protested Corianne.
       "You can do a balance inquiry."
       "Now there was a nice adult word," thought Tikva. "Inquiry. It
       meant to ask." It was something you could do without hurting
       your balances. Banking was a fourth language. Finally, the bus
       came. It was semi-crowded but everyone could still sit near each
       other. Tikvah thought about tucking her beaded credential into
       her polo shirt, but Albina shook her head. "This is a school
       outing," she said. "Your D-Card is like a uniform."
       The bus passed fancy apartment buildings, a gentile cemetery,
       some office buildings and a large shopping center, and older
       apartments. It turned at a large theater called Westchester
       County Center, and it passed more stores until it crossed the
       Bronx River Parkway and entered a city of tall buildings called
       White Plains.
       White Plains was much nicer than Route 59. Albina led her
       charges off the bus and down one street, past the exterior of a
       large, shopping mall called The Galleria. "They opened this when
       my mother was in high school," Albina recounted as they turned
       right onto a broad four lane street with tall official looking
       buildings on each side. The first floors of these tall old
       fashioned structures were smallish stores and restaurants.
       "Swine's flesh everywhere," thought Tikvah. Some were bars,
       where kids were not allowed to go, thankfully.
       "This is Mamaroneck Avenue," Albina proclaimed, and it was a
       grand street with a grand name. "We'll do our banking first, and
       then shop on the way up. There's the only dollar store for miles
       around on this street and there's Walmart at the top of the
       street about a block to our right. It used to be a Sears way
       back when."  Albina had the grace not to ask how good this plan
       sounded. She was after all in charge.
       The broad shouldered girl groaned before they reached Martine
       Avenue, location of the Key Bank ATM. Tikvah was glad she had
       had cereal and a muffin and a big glass of grapefruit juice.
       There was a crowded pizzaria on the corner. The two girls who
       used Key Bank, each tried the ATM. Both withdrew cash. They
       smiled. Using an ATM felt like getting a birthday present.
       Two blocks further was the Chase ATM where four girls had
       accounts. They formed a line. "It's hot out," complained the
       girl with long braids. "Enjoy it before it gets cold," Albina
       resorted to adult trickery language. "When I am grown up, I'll
       speak that language too," thought Tikvah as they continued on.
       At the corner of Mamaroneck and Maple was the Wells Fargo ATM.
       Tikvah withdrew twenty dollars, and Corianne did a balance
       inquiry. "We have the same bank and Corianne passed up her
       present," Tikvah glanced at her roommate. "I've already got
       cash," came her haughty woman of the world reply. "She'll learn
       trickery talk before I do," thought Tikvah.
       Then it was time to walk back down the other side of Mamaroneck
       Avenue. "Can we take a rest," the broad shouldered girl asked.
       "Why? It's all of five blocks."
       "Trickery talk again," thought Tikvah.
       "It's hot. I'm tired," broad shoulders found her voice.
       "You are stronger than you think. " Albina would let no one out
       talk her.
       "Can you let her buy some water?" asked Jupita
       "If you want, but it's a good way to blow your allowance." They
       didn't stop. They glanced in store windows. They passed patios
       where carefree adults enjoyed Sunday dinners sometimes
       accompanied by children learning the ways of the world, or their
       world. Tikvah wasn't sure it was her world too. Before they
       reached the corner of Mamaroneck and Martine, they crossed the
       street.  "Here's the Dollar Tree," Albina called out. "And Suri
       if you want a drink, you won't get skinned alive  here."
       The Dollar Tree was nothing to be excited about, just a typical
       junk store, but it had plastic baskets that could work like
       toiletry pails for the girl who forgot one. It also had nail
       polish for the girl who wanted to do her nails. Corianne who had
       cash and wanted to buy nothing looked through the silk flowers.
       Albina made the girls set an alarm on their phone and gave them
       twenty minutes to shop independently.
       Tikvah told herself the flowers were garish. "Do you really want
       to buy those?"
       "I don't have anything to put them in. Besides, you know what I
       want. I think I'll have to buy it online."
       "I'm sorry..."
       "Don't be. It's just a really good idea. You know how parents
       are always after you to put your nightie away. Well with a
       pajama keeper, it would have been a no brainer."
       Tikvah said nothing. They were back out in the hot sun soon. As
       promised they made a right on main street and reached a two
       story Walmart with stone steps like a pagan temple. "OK, I want
       all of you to set an alarm for forty minutes from now. You have
       forty five minutes. This tree," Albina touched the gray bark of
       a scrawny sapling growing from a hole in the steps. "Is our
       rendez vous point. Remember it. This is your first big rendez
       vous. I'll give you some grace if you're a minute or too late
       but not much. Let's try to all be back on time. Go. "
       That was it. No worries, no pleading, not even much in the way
       of threats and they could explore the whole big Walmart. There
       was toothpaste and shoe laces for those who needed such things.
       There were probably more silk flowers, though Corianne stopped
       to glance at the costume jewelry and purses.
       And then it hit. Tikvah checked her phone's battery. It was at
       ninety percent, more than enough. The only problem was she
       didn't trust Corianne. It was not that she was bad or evil, but
       this was their first full day together, but Tikvah couldn't just
       dump her roomate or could she.
       "I need to use the bathroom," Tikvah said.
       "OK, good idea," Corianne replied, and Corianne found the store
       directory and from there found the bathroom which was behind the
       children's clothes department. Each girl picked out a stall.
       "OK," Tikvah told herself. "This is it."
       #Post#: 43--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Run, Run, Run Away -- Part I
   DIR By: StoryGod
       Date: December 12, 2019, 5:00 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       When no one was looking back in Brooklyn, Tikvah had added her
       father's cell phone number to her contacts. It was a kosher cell
       phone, but the phone part still worked. If he would pick up....
       Tikvah had a 694 area code. That would be New York. "Pleaes
       HaShem, let my father pick the phone...."
       Tikvah sat fully clothed on the toilet seat letting memories
       flow over her. If swimming could wash away memory and identity,
       speaking Yiddish, the mama loshen, brought it all back. Tikvah
       counted the rings in her native tongue.
       "אַזוי איך
       קענען
       באַקומען
       מיין
       ספּענדינג
       געלט. איך
       האָבן אַ
       דירעקט
       אַוועקלייגן."
       "איך זען."
       "ביסטו
       בסדר?"
       די מאָראַ
       האט אונדז
       צו
       וואָלמאַרט
       אַזוי מיר
       קען גיין
       שאַפּינג
       און געזאגט
       אַז מיר
       האָבן 45
       מינוט. עס
       איז נאָך
       פינף מינוט
       איבער. איר
       קענט קומען
       און
       באַקומען
       מיר? דער
       לערער קען
       נישט
       באַמערקן
       ניטאָ. "
       "קענט איר
       מיר געבן א
       גאס אדרעס?"
       There was a maps application on the cell phone and Tikvah found
       it. She read the street address back to her father.
       Silence....too much silence. This was really going to happen.
       She was going to make it happen.
       "טיקוואַ,
       איך קען
       נישט האָבן
       אַ מאַשין
       איצט.
       מייַן
       מאַשין איז
       אין די
       קראָם
       אַזוי איך
       מוזן נעמען
       אַ פאָר.
       Just then Corianne pounded on the stall door. "Tikvah, are you
       OK?" she asked.
       Like Albina, Corianne pronounced Tikvah's name correctly. It
       wasn't something she realized until just then. "I'm fine,"
       Tikvah returned to English.
       "ווער איז
       דאס?"
       "מייַן
       רומייט.
       מיר זענען
       אין אַ
       קלאָזעט."
       "אָוקיי,
       איך האָבן
       צו פרעגן
       עמעצער
       פֿאַר אַ
       פאָר."
       "זאָל איך
       וואַרטן?"
       תקווה האָט
       זיך
       אומגעקערט
       אויף
       ייִדיש.
       "לאָמיך
       דיר צוריק
       רופן," האָט
       דער טאַטע
       פון טיקווא
       געזאָגט.
       "איך האב
       דיר ליב,"
       [Quote]
       TRANSLATION
       "Tati!" she cried out.  "It's me Tikvah."
       "What is this number?" her father asked.
       "A cell phone. I have to have it for school. I'm at
       Kotiah-Yovanovitch International School. It's a.... " Tikvah
       would not use that word, not any more. It was meaningless. There
       was not just an us and them in the world but many flavors of us,
       not that a Jew did not have a special soul or neshama. "secular
       boarding school. Mommy and Grandma and Grandpa put me in it. I'm
       in White Plains right now at the Walmart. The mora took us out
       so we could get stuff and so we know how to use the banks. "
       "Why do you need to use a bank?"
       "So I can get my spending money. I have direct deposit."
       "I see."
       "Are you OK?"
       "I'm fine. The mora took us to WalMart so we could go shopping
       and said we had forty-five minutes. There's still thirty-five
       minutes left. Can you come and get me? The teacher won't notice
       I'm gone. "
       "Can you give me a street address?"
       There was a maps application on the cell phone and Tikvah found
       it. She read the street address back to her father.
       Silence....too much silence. This was really going to happen.
       She was going to make it happen.
       "Tikvah," her father said. "I don't have a car right now. My car
       is in the shop so I have to get a ride. Let me ask if someone
       can take me."
       Just then Corianne pounded on the stall door. "Tikvah, are you
       OK?" she asked.
       Like Albina, Corianne pronounced Tikvah's name correctly. It
       wasn't something she realized until just then. "I'm fine,"
       Tikvah returned to English.
       "Who is that?"
       "My roommate. We're in a bathroom."
       "OK, I have to ask someone for a ride."
       "Should I wait?" Tikvah returned to Yiddish.
       "Let me call you back," Tikvah's father told her.
       "I love you," Tikvah told him and he said he loved her and hung
       up.
       [/Quote]
       Tikvah slipped out of the stall. She barely remembered to wash
       her hands and hold them under the blow drier.
       "What was that all about?" asked Corianne.
       Tikvah was not sure what to say. "I called my Dad," seemed like
       a good enough answer. Tikvah wondered what she'd do with
       Corianne when Dad pulled up to pick her up. She hoped Albina
       would not be sitting guard duty by the tree outside. She
       realized she would not be able to recognize Dad's car because it
       would be someone else giving him a ride, probably a chevrusa.
       Tikvah told herself that it would be OK, if she left Corianne on
       the steps. The soon-to-be-former roommate  could go back inside
       and go back to the school with the rest of the suite. That was
       one problem solved, but there were still two other problems,
       recognizing dad's car, and time. It took more than half an hour
       to reach White Plains. If dad took more than ten minutes to find
       a ride and leave, then the whole plan came crashing down.
       "You said you needed shoes at brunch," Corianne reminded Tikvah.
       Tikvah felt too shattered to shop for shoes. It was going to
       happen. The Riboneh Sha Lelem would work out all the problems.
       Still, she had to keep calm. Ten minutes, that was all she
       needed. Tikvah pretended to be interested in trying one shoes,
       but everything felt not right. It wouldn't be right for back
       home, her real home. It wasn't right her mother uprooted her. It
       was time to put things right. Her mother had let her and Dad's
       fight mess up their children's lives and.
       Tikvah grabbed her phone.
       "נו?"
       "עס איז מיר
       טיקוואַה"
       "Remember the two things you need," Tikvah told herself. "HaShem
       is going to help you put things right."
       "צי האָט
       איר
       באַקומען
       אַ פאָר?"
       "שמעון קען
       מיך נעמען
       נאך פינף א
       זייגער."
       Tikvah felt the store spin around her. This was a thing that had
       to be done right. Timing was crucial. Yes, there was a great
       English word, but it wouldn't work if Tikvah went missing before
       Dad could pick her up.
       "פינף
       אַקלאַק?"
       "יא, נאָך ער
       פּיקט זיין
       זון ביי
       טשעדער."
       "דאָס וועט
       נישט
       אַרבעטן."
       "וואָס
       טאָן איר
       מיינען אַז
       וועט נישט
       אַרבעטן?"
       "מיר מוזן
       זיין צוריק
       מיט די
       מאָראַ אין
       ...
       צוואַנציק
       מינוט. איך
       בין
       נעבעכדיק."
       "איר טאָן
       ניט וועלן
       אַז איך
       וועל
       באַקומען
       איר."
       "עס וועט
       נישט
       אַרבעטן
       טאַטע. איך
       בין
       נעבעכדיק.
       איך ליבע
       איר."
       "איך האָב
       דיך אויך
       ליב. זייַ
       געזונט
       טיקוואַה."
       [Quote]
       [Color=#DD4400]TRANSLATION[/Color]
       "Nu?"
       "Daddy did you get a ride?"
       "Yes, Shimon can take me at five o'clock when he picks up his
       son from cheder."
       
       Tikvah felt the store spin around her. This was a thing that had
       to be done right. Timing was crucial. Yes, there was a great
       English word, but it wouldn't work if Tikvah went missing before
       Dad could pick her up.
       "Dad, that won't work. I have to be back with the teacher in
       twenty minutes or she'll go looking for me."
       "You don't want me to pick you up then?"
       "It won't work Dad. I'm sorry.... "
       "Alright then I love you."
       "I love you too."
       "Goodbye Tikvah."
       [/Quote]
       "What was that about?" asked a clueless Corianne.
       "I was just talking to my Dad."
       "You look like you're going to cry."
       "I think I have to arrange for a visit the right way," Tikvah
       explained to herself. She'd see her dad then Maybe they could
       plan something so he'd show up when everyone's back was turned.
       If he failed, she told herself, she might never see him again.
       This way, he had another shot. It really was better this way.
       Tikvah slumped down on the shoe trying on bench. It was good to
       sit. Maybe she would never get up again, but just sitting there
       holding a shoe in her hands was weird. She didn't even want
       those nonJewish, ugly, she was not sure what, but it was not the
       politically incorrect term she used to use shoes. "I need air,"
       Tikvah found the words. She tossed the unwanted shoe under the
       bench and struggled to her feet.
       Corianne walked her outside. Albina sat on the steps under the
       tree, her phone open to something on a screen. "I could walk
       right past her," thought Tikvah. Albina looked up. "You're
       early," Albina chirped. Tikvah said nothing. "What you looking
       at on your phone?"
       "The App. It shows your location. No absconds today."
       "Does she know about all the time I spent in the bathroom?"
       Tikvah wondered.
       "What's an abscond?" asked Corianne.
       "Kids running off when their not supposed to."
       "You mean like running away?" Tikvah asked.
       "Yes. You can get grounded on campus or worse for that," Albina
       explained.
       Tikvah stared down Main Street toward Battle Hill. She imagined
       her father's car with its one white door in a burgundy body
       making its way slowly down the street. She imagined herself
       running down the stairs in front of the Walmart, dad opening the
       door on the inside, and all the apps in the world couldn't stop
       them, but a broken car could. "We'll do it better next time,"
       Tikvah told herself. Then she wondered if there would ever be a
       next time.
       "Tikvah are you OK?" asked Albina.
       "I miss my Dad," Tikvah wailed through the  tears.
       *****************************************************
       Page 1 of 1