The World Outside (9 page)

I didn’t know what to say. All kinds of thoughts crowded my brain as I turned the documents over in my hands. I remembered that Papa had told David he was wasting his time in college, and that the Rebbe had
told us to devote ourselves to religious studies. But then I remembered how happy I felt when I sang.
Hashem gave me my voice out of the kindness of His heart
, I said to myself.
How could I ignore such a gift
?

“I have to think about this.…”

“Don’t wait too long. The deadline is next week. You’ll find a stamped envelope among the papers. Put your application in it and mail it on your way to school.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and took out a folded-up piece of paper. “This is my address in the dorm. Use it instead of your own information on the application.”

“Why are you in a dorm? Doesn’t your family live in New York?”

He sighed. “In Manhattan, actually. Both Mom and Dad have apartments close to my college. My parents are divorced. It’s easier to be in the dorm than to choose sides. I pay for my room and board by working as a lab assistant during the summer session. All my mail comes to the dorm. I’ll give you your letter from Juilliard as soon as it arrives.”

“What if you don’t see me?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it to you somehow. I’ll keep learning with Yossi until you hear from Juilliard. That should make him happy, and it’ll give me an excuse to come to your house.” He chuckled. “Everybody will get used to me roaming around Crown Heights. Nobody
will think it strange if I hang out around town and happen to run into you.”

It took a moment for what he was saying to sink in. I jumped up and began to pace the grass.

“Are you learning with Yossi just because of me? Don’t you see the beauty and the rightness of what he’s trying to teach you? It’s the Rebbe’s wish that he reach out to you!”

He stood up and faced me. “I can see what Yossi is doing, but mostly I just want to see you.”

He must really, really like me
, sang my brain. But then I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. I had to make him understand somehow, for his own sake.

“Don’t you see that Yossi is teaching you what Hashem wants for us?”

“I realize that your beliefs come from your heart,” said David. “As do Yossi’s. It’s my religion too.” He leaned toward me. “But your lifestyle isn’t for everybody, Chanie. It’s beautiful and pure, but it’s not for me. I couldn’t follow all your rules and regulations. I don’t even want to.”

“Hashem wants us to! Living a Torah life binds us closer to G-d, to Hashem. Nothing is more important than that.” As I said these words I felt at peace, whole, as if I were a frothy wave in a vast and beautiful sea.

He stepped so close that I could see every pore on his face. “There’s more to life than you know, Chanie,” he said. He pointed toward the City, toward the faint
outline of the tall buildings straining toward the sky. “There’s more out there than you can imagine. There is music there! Think about it. Music!”

And, for a moment, I did think. I thought of a world full of possibilities. A world full of sound. But then I moved away from him and was back in Prospect Park. I slung the schoolbag over my shoulder.

“I have to go now. I told Mama that I’d be home for dinner, and I don’t want her to call Devorah Leah’s house because I’m late.”

He held out the Juilliard application. “Don’t be mad at me. Take the application, please,” he said when I kept my hands closed by my side.

I finally took it from him and stuffed it into my bag.

He smiled. “Same time next week?”

“Same time next week,” I said, echoing his words.

A sharp jab in my ribs made my eyes fly open. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was.

“Wake up!” whispered Devorah Leah, sitting next to me.

“So, Chanie Altman, you finally grace us with your attention. Perhaps you’ll be kind enough to put your solution to the problem on the blackboard.”

I stared in bewilderment at Mrs. Potash before she stomped back to her desk at the front of the room. Every girl in the classroom had her gaze fixed on me.

“She’s talking about the geometry problem she assigned for homework,” Devorah Leah said quietly.

I shook my head to clear it, picked up my notebook and made my way to the blackboard. I thanked my lucky stars for the hour I’d spent in my room solving the problem after I left David. Luckily, I had done a thorough job, and all I had to do was copy the equations from my notebook onto the board without any heavy thinking. Mrs. Potash’s three chins shook in frustration as she waited for me to make a mistake.

“Correct,” she said grudgingly when I finally finished. “But pay more attention in class. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled.

The bell rang and she turned her back to me. I gathered up my books with the other kids and headed for the door.

Devorah Leah ran up to me. “What’s the matter with you?” she asked. “You never fall asleep in class!”

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” I tried to pass her, but she grabbed my sleeve.

“What’s going on, Chanie? Can I help?”

I fidgeted with the strap of my schoolbag to avoid having to look her in the eye. “Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired. I hardly slept the last three nights.”

“Are you feeling guilty for meeting David in the park?” she whispered as she followed me into the hall. “What happened there?”

“Nothing happened! I already told you that I only saw him that one time to ask him to leave me alone.”

Devorah Leah drew even closer. “If your conscience is clear, then why can’t you sleep?”

As I noted the concern in her eyes, I suddenly had an overwhelming desire to confide in her. I wanted to tell her that I was planning to see David again. I wanted to tell her about Juilliard. The words crowded to my tongue.

“Okay,” I whispered, “I’ll tell you what’s really—”

Just then, the bell rang and the hall began to empty of students.

“Oh, no!” she cried. “I have to go. I have Chumash class next period. But let’s talk later!”

I stared after her, frustrated and relieved at the same time.
It’s a good thing she had to leave
, I said to myself.
I have to make this decision without any help. What should I do?
To be surrounded by music would be heaven on earth. And to be able to sing would make me happier than I could even imagine! However, Mama and Papa would never permit me to study singing. And they would be furious with me for trying.

I stopped in my tracks when the cold reality suddenly hit me. I finally realized that my parents would never have to be told about my ambitions because there wasn’t even the slightest possibility that a world-famous music school would accept me as a student. Why, I couldn’t even read music! There would be no harm if
I wasted my time filling out the application and mailing it back to Juilliard. Didn’t I owe David at least this much for going to all the trouble of getting it for me?

I won’t be hurting anybody if I apply
, I told myself. I was sure of it.

That night, I waited until the house fell silent, then crept out of my bed and tiptoed to my schoolbag. The creaking of the old wooden floor was as loud as thunder.
Please don’t let it wake up Mama
, I prayed silently.

I took the application to the window and filled it out in the moonlight. I didn’t know how to answer some of the questions, so I left them blank. I hesitated at the last question, but then decided to leave it blank also. I folded the application and stuffed it into the envelope David had given me. Before sealing it, I took the pages out again and reread the last question. I stared at it for a long time.

“Why do you want to sing?” the question read.

“Because it makes me happy,” I wrote.

Then I licked the envelope shut and put it back into my schoolbag. The next morning, I mailed the application before I had a chance to change my mind.

CHAPTER 9

M
y teachers were attending a conference, so I had a day off school. It was a treat to have breakfast with my family. Only Yossi was absent. He’d left for his yeshiva before I even woke up. Any other morning, I would be long gone too, having gobbled down something I’d grabbed from the fridge. But today was different.

Baba sat next to me at the kitchen table. She was very quiet, her face pale. She fiddled with her food.

“Are you feeling okay, Baba?”

“I’m fine. I just have a little indigestion, a little tightness in my chest,” she said reluctantly. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” She broke off a corner of her toast and began to chew on it.

Papa put down his fork. “Tightness in your chest? Mother, it could be your heart! You must see a doctor.”

“I’ll make an appointment with Dr. Deutsch,” Mama said. She transferred some eggs from the frying pan to my plate before picking up the phone.

“I’m not going to the doctor!” Baba shook her head, her fingers working at folding her napkin into smaller and smaller squares.

“Nonsense!” Mama muttered as she dialed the doctor’s number and described Baba’s symptoms to the nurse. I heard her say, “Really?” and saw her eyes dart toward Baba. Finally, she said, “Thank you. I’ll have her there by two this afternoon,” and hung up.

“The nurse thinks you should see Dr. Deutsch as soon as possible,” she said to Baba.

“I’m not going. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Mama glanced in Papa’s direction. “But I already made the appointment.”

“Do it for me, Mother. You know how much I worry about you,” Papa said. “Go, just to put my mind to rest.”

Baba took a deep breath. “Well, if it’s so important to you, Natan, I’ll go. But I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to worry.”

After lunch, I put Moishe down for his nap and went to the kitchen to say good-bye to Mama. She was at the table with a cup of coffee in her hand. I plopped down beside her.

“Good luck with Baba. I hope the doctor doesn’t find anything serious.”

She nodded. “I hope so too. But the sooner Baba has her checkup, the better. What will you do while Moishe sleeps?”

“My homework. I have to write a book report.”

“Take Moishe for a walk after he wakes up. I’ll go to the supermarket with Baba on the way home. We should be back by dinnertime.” She pointed to a large casserole dish on the counter. “I prepared it this morning. Put it in the oven at four o’clock to warm.”

“I won’t forget.”

“Can you get Baba for me? The taxi will be here any minute.”

“Okay.” I stood to go.

I ran up the stairs to Baba’s room on the second floor, but when I knocked on her door, there was no answer. I knocked again, harder this time. Silence. I hesitated for a moment. I knew Baba didn’t like people going into her room when she wasn’t there. She guarded her privacy so fiercely that she even cleaned her room herself. But my mind had filled with visions of her lying helplessly on the floor, so I turned the knob and swung the door open.

The first thing I noticed was an unusual smell. My eyes traveled the room, but everything was as it should be. The place was immaculate. The bed was made and
Baba’s purse sat on top of it. Her slippers were standing guard in front of the bed. Her religious books were arranged on a shelf above the chest of drawers. A large framed photograph of Zaida hung on the wall across from her bed, where she could see it as soon as she woke up. Two other walls were taken up with photographs of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I could see my younger self in several pictures. On the remaining wall hung a portrait of our Rebbe.

I walked around the room, sniffing. Where could the smell be coming from? It seemed strongest by the chest of drawers.

I pulled out the top drawer, then the one below it and finally the bottom one. All three were filled with mounds and mounds of rotting food. Small bugs swarmed over putrid meat. More bugs were feasting on moldy bread. When I saw a worm working its way through a heap of decomposing potato, bile rose in my throat. I grabbed Baba’s wastepaper basket and lost my lunch.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I whirled around. Baba was in the doorway, leaning heavily on her cane.

“How dare you barge into my room like this?” She was trembling with rage. “Why are you spying on me?”

“I’m not! I knocked but you didn’t answer, so I came in to see if you were okay. Mama asked me to tell you
that the taxi will be here any minute. She’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. This is my private space.” She could barely look at me, she was so angry.

“Close the drawers!”

I obeyed but couldn’t help asking, “Why did you fill your drawers with rotting food? I don’t understand.”

She sat down on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes for a moment. “You don’t have to understand,” she finally said.

I just stared at her wordlessly, afraid to speak.

She stood up heavily and picked up her purse. “Don’t you ever again come into my room without being invited. Do you understand?”

I was nodding so vigorously that I thought my neck would break.

“Now go,” she said, her tone softening just a touch.