Recap: Aida’s mother is experiencing pain that is worrisome. Her father left for his trip. Rabbi H got a shipment of siddurim and T’hilim books from Canada that he distributes to people in the Syrian Jewish community.
The next morning, I rose early to daven. I asked Hashem to protect Aba on his business trip and to help Ima have a r’fuah sh’leimah. She wasn’t complaining, but her face was creased with pain.
After davening, I hurried into the kitchen. Katlin was setting the breakfast table.
“Aida.”
She smiled at me and then she winced and sank onto the nearest chair.
“Ima, should I get Dr. Brownstein?”
“It’s not easy to get him. He’s so overworked now with all the restrictions.”
She spoke in Hebrew so Katlin wouldn’t understand.
“But I can go tell him what’s wrong and maybe he can prescribe something.”
“If it’s still this bad later, then I will let you get him. Please go check if any telegram came.”
Aba always sent one to tell us he’d arrived safely. None came yesterday, but surely today…
“Aida, hurry. You don’t want to be late for school.”
I kissed Ima and rushed out the door into the golden autumn day.
Stella was waiting for me at the corner.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Is everything okay?”
I told her about Ima being unwell and no telegram from Aba yet.
Stella’s brown eyes filled with sympathy.
“Hashem should help. G-d willing, you will hear from him today.”
“You know that today is the state math test, “ Stella said.
“I forgot about that.”
“You’ll do well. You have such a memory. I wish I could do half as well as you in math.”
I hadn’t studied. I did remember the review sheet. I could picture the problems in my mind. I recalled how Mrs. Abbar had accused me of cheating and my cheeks reddened at the memory.
We raced towards school and ran up the concrete steps.
Stella and I parted in the hallway. She strode towards her eighth-grade class, and I rushed down the hallway to my seventh-grade math class. The bell rang just as I slid into my seat in the back. Mrs. Abbar shot me a disapproving glance.
“We will begin the state test at exactly 8:30. Clear your desk of everything but a pencil.”
Mrs. Abbar handed out the tests. The room was hushed except for the scratching of pencils and an occasional cough from Tzivia Lehrer.
The problems were just like the ones on the review sheet and the word problem was the same, as well. I wrote quickly. The number answers flew from my pencil. The feeling of knowing the answer was like a soft breeze caressing my cheek.
I finished the test by 9:00, but I gazed around and saw everyone else still hunched over their papers. I didn’t want to call any attention to myself, so I pretended to still be working. I thought about Aba far away in a place called Canada. I thought about Ima needing the doctor. She had promised that if she was still unwell, she would go to the doctor later.
I started making up a story in my head. It’s something I like to do when I have time with my own thoughts. I thought of a brave main character named Ziva who had to take care of her family of six brothers and one sister. Ziva lived in a free place where she could be Jewish openly with no tormenters or restrictions. Ziva wanted to be a writer, writing for a famous newspaper. That was her life’s dream. I pictured a scene with Ziva walking by the news office where the paper was printed and looking in the window longingly.
Suddenly, a loud gong brought me out of my daydream. Mrs. Abbar was using her mallet to hit her gong. “All pencils down!” She announced.
She walked briskly down the aisle scooping up the test papers. I noticed her expression was always a scowl. Why was she such an unhappy person?
“You will go outside now for a recess. I will call you in when the papers are graded.”
The class rose and everyone scrambled out the door towards the sunny courtyard in back.
I followed my friends Vera and Leah.
“It was hard,” Leah said.
“Yeh, I didn’t even finish.” Vera motioned us to go near a shady corner of the yard where a honeysuckle vine had climbed over the fence. I breathed the sweet scent.
“Was it hard for you, too?” Leah asked me.
I shrugged.
“You’re a math genius with a photographic memory.”
I didn’t want to be different or thought of as so smart.
“I do not have a photographic memory,” I said. “I don’t even know what that is.” I wanted to divert the attention from me. “Look, there’s a Waldrop.” Its super long beak and its feathers sticking up on its head were features of Syria’s national bird. I was thankful Hashem had sent the bird when I needed it.
Vana and Hala approached. Vana wore a tan-colored burka. “Want to come play kickball with us?”
We followed them over to the grassy field.
“What did you think of the test?” Hala asked me.
“Not too hard,” I said.
“I wish I had your brain or Vana’s,” Hala said. “Vana is good in math like you.”
Recess lasted longer than usual because of the test marking. I was hot and sweaty from the game, when Mrs. Abbar called us back into the classroom.
“I’ve marked your tests,” she said with her usual frown.
“Many of you needed to study harder.”
She gave us an assignment in the math workbook. Then she called me to come speak to her in the hall.
I felt my stomach drop. Why did she want to speak with me? What had I done now?
To be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of an historical fiction novel, Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishing, 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers, 2022), A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishing, 2021), Secrets in Disguise (Menucha Publishers, 2020), Denver Dreams (a novel, Jerusalem Publications, 2009), Memorable Characters…Magnificent Stories (Scholastic, 2002), Befriend (Menucha Publishers, 2013), The Road Less Traveled (Feldheim, 2015), fiction serials and features in Binah Magazine and Binyan Magazine, “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022), and Alaskan Gold ( 2023-2024).