Recap: Hope and Bonnie go to the Jacobsons for Friday night dinner. Henry, the little boy who was tripped in the store, is there with his father. Hope enjoys the Shabbos meal and atmosphere. When she gets home, she overhears news coming from the television. Three civil rights workers are missing in the South.
Just then, Mrs. Bowers strode into the den. “Edward, I found the perfect tiles for our new kitchen.” She glanced towards the television. “Uch, they keep showing those reports about those men in the South. I don’t know why they have to keep interrupting all the shows with these boring reports. Those young men should never have gone to the South to try to change people there. It was wrong. The Southern people wanted their way of life, and I don’t see anything wrong in it.”
A dark cloud passed over Mr. Bowers’s face. “You don’t see anything wrong in keeping people away from their right to vote? In treating people in inhuman ways because of their skin color?”
“I don’t know about all that. I’m just saying…”
“You should be ashamed,” he said. “How can you talk like that?”
“I want to know about the tiles.”
“We’ll discuss it another time. I have to go do some work in my office. Do not disturb me.” He shut off the television and marched to the other end of the house where he had his home office.
I hurried away. I didn’t want her to know I’d heard them quarreling. I was secretly glad that Mr. Bowers had stood up against her. Mrs. Bowers was a small-minded person. I saw that. I wondered how he ever could have decided to marry her.
That night, I went to sleep thinking about the Shabbos dinner at the Jacobsons. There was something so special there. I wanted to go back again. I wished I could tell my parents about it. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before. For some reason, I started thinking about Grandma Belle. She had told me once about Shabbos. I tried to remember the conversation.
It was the same time she’d taught me the Sh’ma prayer. She told me there was a special time of the week when the family was supposed to spend time together and not do any work. I hadn’t understood what she meant. Now, I had actually seen it in action. Somehow, she must know about it, I mused. She must be smiling down on me, and she must feel happy knowing I had a Shabbos experience.
…
The next day, Mrs. Bowers was in an especially foul mood. When I stepped into the kitchen, she scowled at me. “You slept late. So lazy.”
I glanced at the clock when I came into the kitchen. It was 8:00. “You’re needed at the store right away. You’ll have to skip breakfast.
I headed out the door. It was a sunny July morning. The scent of roses and fresh-cut grass wafted in the air. The sky was pure blue with no clouds. I strolled down the street humming some of the Shabbos tunes from the previous evening. I wouldn’t let someone’s angry mood make me unhappy. I wouldn’t. Father always taught me that it isn’t what is happening that makes you happy or unhappy; it’s all about your attitude. Have an attitude of being grateful, he said.
I wanted to be grateful. I hated this house I was in, and Mrs. Bowers, but I was grateful that I had a blue sky and a sunny day with flowers and trees, and I had Bonnie and my new friend Rivkah.
I wondered what it would be like to spend a whole Shabbos at Rivkah’s house. She had mentioned that they went to synagogue in the morning. I wished I was going there instead of to work.
Maybe, one time, Mr. Bowers would let me go there for a whole Shabbos. No, Mrs. Bowers would never let me miss work. She was a cruel lady who only cared about herself and her daughter Diana and making money.
When I reached the Five and Dime, Patricia opened the door for me. “Hi, Hope, how are you?”
Her warm smile helped melt some of my resentful feelings.
“Will you be able to manage here by yourself today? My husband is under the weather. “
I wanted to say no. I didn’t want to run this store all by myself. I was only 14. Didn’t anyone realize that?
“I hope he feels better,” I heard myself say.
“You sure you can manage now, honey? I hate to do this to you.”
I nodded slowly.
“Just be sure to count up the money at the end of the day and bring home the receipt.”
I watched Patricia leave, wishing I could leave with her.
The time moved forward slowly. A few customers came in and bought sodas and some chewing gum. Then an older man and his wife walked in. “You have a broom, young lady?” the man asked.
“We probably do. Sorry I’m new here. I’ll go to the back to see.” The couple hobbled behind me.
While I was searching the back shelves frantically, I heard the tinkle of the bell on the front door. Someone must have walked in. I would help them soon, I said to myself.
I passed the floor cleaners and the laundry detergent. A broom should be somewhere near these items.
“There they are.” The wife pointed to a pile of brooms propped up against the back wall.
I pulled one out with a dustpan attached and carried the prize to the front to ring it up for the couple.
I glanced around. No one else was in the store. Funny, I’d heard someone come in. They must have left, I thought.
…
Finally, the big clock on the wall said 4:45. I was so glad my time here was almost over. I took the receipt that showed the day’s transactions and stuffed it in my pocket.
I was about to leave when Mrs. Bowers marched into the store. “I want the receipt for the day,” she said.
She didn’t bother with any thank yous. She just hurled demands.
I handed her the receipt. She looked it over and then she opened the cash register and began counting out the money.
“Go turn off the lights in the back, and I need you to make sure the shelves are tidy. The toy shelves get disorganized when children come in.”
I was busy straightening a shelf of teddy bears when I heard a loud scream. “Hope, this receipt is not matching the cash.”
I trudged back to the front of the store.
“I counted it three times. We are short a significant amount of cash.”
I felt my stomach plummet. She was staring at me in such an accusatory way.
“How can this be?”
I shrugged.
“This has never happened before.”
The whole way home, I felt her accusation hanging in the air between us like a storm cloud.
I blinked back angry tears. I would not cry in front of this wicked woman. I would not.
To be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of the newly released historical fiction novel, Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishers, 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers, 2022), A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishers, 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, and “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022).
