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Saturday, December 6, 2008

Story Saturday

This story was inspired by a photo taken by the talented Daryl. Go here to see which one....


Esther was walking in the rain, on the Upper West Side of Broadway, lost in thought, her left hand absently clutching the handle of her open black umbrella. Her son, David, was coming home for Shabbat dinner for the first time in three years, and he was bringing his shiksa wife, Amy, with him. He'd tried to convince his mother that Amy had converted to their faith, but Esther wasn't so sure.
"Give the girl a chance" Myron had begged her last night, as she slammed around the kitchen, checking on what groceries she needed to go out and get.
"Why should I?" Esther cried. David was their only child, and she'd had such high hopes. She was sure, when he was just mere hours old that he was going to be a Rabbi, marry a traditional girl, and provide her with many grandsons. Instead, he was a psychologist (not even a doctor!) married to his receptionist, a baptist of all things. And after four years of marriage there was no sign of children yet! And he'd had the unmitigated gall to leave New York City to live in Teaneck, New Jersey!. It just boggled Esther's mind. Her thoughts on this continued as she walked, briskly down towards her favorite bakery. She'd had the time this morning to make the Challah, her special recipe, and she had a brisket in her slow cooker all day. But she had wanted to serve some marbled rye as well, it was a particular favorite of Myron's, and David's. Looking at her watch she groaned, it was nearly 3:30.
"Nice watch, lady" said a greasy redhead, suddenly appearing at her left elbow.
"Yeah nice watch!" said an equally unattractive brown haired boy coming up to her left side.
"I think you need to give it over"
"Yeah, give it over!"
Esther felt a moment of panic, she had been given that watch by her mother on the eve of her wedding to Myron. She always had that watch. Her mother was gone, now, and the watch was one of the few reminders she had left of her.
"Hand it over old woman!" the redhead demanded
"Give it!" echoed the ugly brown haired kid.
Suddenly, Esther saw red. Without even realizing what exactly she was doing, she turned, and, decompressing the umbrella a little, she began to forcefully beat the red headed kid with it, crying, and shouting at him in Yiddish about respecting his elders the entire time. The crowd, milling on the street stood to watch in awe as this little, grey haired lady no taller than 5 feet proceeded to beat him, until he ran off, his friend in tow, and her umbrella lay, spent, and broken, in the street.
"He tried to take my watch" she announced, loudly, still angry, at everything.
"Then you did good, ma'am" offered one of the onlookers, secretly impressed with how she'd handled it.
"Thank you" said Esther, and, feeling the last vestiges of red hot anger leave her, she traveled the last few blocks, to the bakery, and got TWO loaves of marbled rye.
That night, during Shabbat dinner, Esther was very kind, and talked more with Amy than she ever had. When Amy and David announced their coming child, no one was happier than Esther. She decided that having a shiksa daughter in law might not be so bad, after all....

2 comments:

K said...

I like it.

Everyone needs to release a little rage now and then (I generally prefer the treadmill).

Daryl said...

I like that .. I am glad that umbrella got that way in a 'good' way .. Esther would love Zabar's onion rye .. ;-D

:-Daryl