Zombies at the Bar Mitzvah: a novella Read online

  My face turned red. I said, “Uh, I know.”

  And that was it. Can you believe that? This was my chance to ask her how her day was or what she was doing over the weekend, and all I could say was I know! Who says that?! Apparently I do.

  Another time at my locker, she asked me if I was going to the school dance, and I said, “Ha, that. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Wouldn’t dream of it? I dreamed of going to it with her!

  “Oh,” she frowned, and walked away.

  But there was no getting out of this one. She stopped by my locker.

  “Hi Marc.”

  “Hey.”

  “Just wanted to let you know I got the invitation to your Bar Mitzvah.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, you sent it to me, remember.”

  “Right. I knew that.”

  “Well, I’ve never been to a Bar Mitzvah before, so it should be interesting. And fun.”

  Holy poop!

  She was coming. She wouldn’t understand a thing, and my voice would crack like taking a basketball between the legs at gym class.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she said.

  I wasn’t.

  But I didn’t say anything more to her, just nodded and walked off as my face burned red.

  SIS TAKES THINGS SERIOUSLY

  One day after coming home from my lesson with Cantor Stein, Karen came to visit me in my room. I was dressed in my pajamas and reading a Batman comic. She was wearing her PJs and was chewing gum and had her hair in a ponytail. She seemed to be up to something. I didn’t know what.

  “Guess you survived Hebrew School today?”

  “Yeah. Somehow.”

  “Those fellows can be pretty dangerous.”

  “Yup,” I said, flipping the page, wondering when she was going to leave.

  “I hear you invited most of your class.”

  “Not really.”

  I studied some of the line drawings. I wished I could be a comic book artist. That’s gotta be the best job in the world.

  “So I hear you invited Laura Moody.”

  I looked up and she had the biggest grin on her face. In fact, I didn’t know she could grin that big. She waved goodbye. Embarrassed again, I could no longer read my comic. Now on top of everything, I had to learn that my sister knew of my feelings for Laura. I felt so aggravated, so confused.

  I quietly lay down in bed on my back. It got so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat, and it beat with confusion and panic, dreading the aforementioned day when I would be embarrassed for all time.

  MEANTIME THIS IS WHAT RABBI MEYERWITZ AND HIS BROTHER DID TO TAKE CARE OF THE VANDALISM PROBLEM

  “The vandalism is getting worse,” said Rabbi Meyerwitz. “We should go to the police. It’s the only sensible thing to do.”

  David Meyerwitz tilted his head in curiosity. The two were in the rabbi’s study quarters.

  “No, I don’t think so, brother.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t think so?”

  His brother reached beyond his head and pulled down a dusty old tome. He dropped it on the rabbi’s desk and began to flip through it.

  “What the heck are you doing? This is no time to be reading.”

  “Is it not?”

  The rabbi seemed to catch what he was getting at.

  “I still think the police would be better.”

  “Do you know what kind of problems that will cause? People will stop coming here. They’ll be scared.”

  “So you are going to do what I think you are going to do?”

  “Hopefully. Yes. What our people have done before hundreds of years ago.”

  They spent days gathering the proper materials. The rabbi had called up several friends in search of clay. Lots and lots of clay. His brother still did not like the idea even though he helped the rabbi pack his office with supplies.

  “I still think this is a very very bad idea. Very bad.”

  “I heard you the first time and all those other times. Now stop.”

  Rumor was they were working on something secret. It spread through school. In fact, it was more secretive than we thought. They wouldn’t talk to anyone. Sandy Green, our Hebrew School Teacher, tried to talk to them and they refused to open the door to their study. Cantor Stein had also popped by the rabbi’s study and knocked on the door. But the rabbi told him to go away.

  Little did we all know that they were making a monster in the rabbi’s office, sculpting one out of clay. They had built everything but the head so far. The problem was the ceiling didn’t go high enough and the creature was about nine feet tall.

  “What the heck do we do?” said the rabbi standing on a ladder.

  His brother put his hand to his chin and tapped his finger repeatedly.

  “I guess we will have to make him sit.”

  They didn’t get it right right away because when they bent the body down to sit the creature ended up sitting on the rabbi, and his brother had to pull him free. He was not happy despite the fact that they had now reduced the creature’s height and could put a head on it.

  They were almost done. They worked on the head.

  The final step would be breathe life into the creature.

  MOM MAKING EVERYONE CRAZY BEFORE THE BAR MITZVAH WHEN REALLY SHE SHOULD HAVE JUST GOTTEN HERSELF SOME TEA

  At Bloomingdales I got fitted for a new suit. I had tried on nearly seven suits so far and Mom couldn’t make up her mind which she liked best. My opinion didn’t matter apparently. Then I stood there when she had finally settled on something that she liked (and told me that I liked it too) while the tailor measured my arms and legs. My sis stood in the background playing her PSP without showing much interest in the day’s proceedings.

  Mom struck up quite a conversation with the tailor, who kept shoving her ruler in my crotch. I kept shoving it away.

  “So you are going to be a man, huh?”

  “Not if you keep poking me,” I said.

  “That’s a very big day. You should be happy.”

  “Happy about what?”

  “He’s embarrassed,” said Mom.

  Sis took a moment to look up from her PSP and roll her eyes.

  “Going to help out around the house now, hm? Take out the garbage, clean, cook, do laundry?”

  Mom and the tailor laughed. I shoved her ruler aside while she rolled up my pant legs.

  “Well, it’s a very nice suit. You look very sharp. I’ll have it ready end of the week.

  “Can we go now?”

  “I still have dresses to try on,” said my sister, and she stuck out her tongue.

  I grabbed her PSP away from her and heard her character die with a bloop bloop wenh.

  GETTING READY TIME

  Over the next few weeks I went to my lessons and practiced hard. I sacrificed my schoolwork just so I could get things right for the upcoming ceremony. For once Cantor Stein didn’t criticize my work either. At the end of one lesson he told me: good job. And that was all he said, but he never said that so it was encouraging.

  Mom continued to pester me every evening before bed and ask me if I was getting enough sleep and getting ready for the coming weekend. 1.) I would have slept better if she didn’t keep me up asking me how I was sleeping. 2.) I probably couldn’t get any more ready since my every waking moment was devoted to the ceremony.

  Karen still popped by my room to tease me about Laura Moody, asking me if liked her, if I wanted to sit in a tree with her K-I-S-S-I-N-G. I usually just threw something at her and she’d disappear laughing.

  Dad kept mentioning the suggestion box he was going to put out. I kind of had no idea what he was talking about, but if that’s what he wanted, okay.

  And Grandpa never really came up to see me because he didn’t like going up stairs. At least I was spared by one person.

  MOM CONTINUING TO MAKE EVERYONE CRAZY

  Mom prepared beef brisket and popovers for dinner, my favorite. I guess she was doing this for me. A last meal? To
morrow was the big day after all. Yes, I was nervous. No, I didn’t want to think about it though it was hard not to seated with my whole family eagerly anticipating the big day.

  We dug into our food and filled our faces. We ate silently until Grandpa decided to unleash a Chicago wind on us with a lengthy belch.

  “Thanks for sharing, Pops,” said Mom. That’s her nickname for him. Sometimes we called him that too. Not always. Took some getting used to.

  “Be glad it wasn’t from the other end.”

  “We are,” I said.

  “If only Esther were still here.”

  “She’s here in spirit.”

  “I know, but she would be so proud. Our grandchild is about to become a man. That is something special.”

  There’s that word again: special. I didn’t feel special. I didn’t want special. I doubt I’d even like being special.

  “I’m not so sure I want to be around for this,” said my sister.

  “How can you say that?” said Mom.

  “Look at how unhappy this has made Marc. It’s going to be very uncomfortable.”

  “Thanks sis.”

  “Karen, that’s enough. You put a twisty sardine puller over your mouth and seal it up. Marc’s got a lot on his mind and doesn’t need you worrying up some more trouble for him.”

  The rest of dinner was rather uneventful, even quiet. Karen’s comment had left a gloomy cloud over the festivities for the evening.

  Before bed that evening Mom came by and made sure I had my suit laid out and told me I had to go to bed early. I said I would try, and I did, but that didn’t end up happening. Instead I spent the night lying in bed sweating over what was going to happen the following day.

  I didn’t want to screw up. I didn’t want to be embarrassed. I had all these images of my making an ass of myself, knocking over the podium when I came up to the microphone, belting out swear words over the microphone when I screwed up, tripping the rabbi. The worst might have been the dream I had too that woke me at some point in the middle of the night. Naturally when I got up on stage I somehow had no clothes on and Laura Moody was seated in the front row. Instead of freaking out I took my yarmulke and covered up a certain are a and then went on with the ceremony to the horror of everyone present. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but boy was it scary.

  THE BIG SHOW

  The next morning I woke to Mom screaming WAKE UP! for us to wake up. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility to get woken up before your alarm went off because your parents were impatient. I popped out of bed, showered, and then dressed. When I came out of my room, Mom was still screaming. Karen had trouble waking up and often never set her alarm so they were, as ever and always, doing everything they could to make her get ready so that we weren’t late.

  We were late. We were all waiting in the kitchen, had already eaten, and still Karen hadn’t come down to breakfast. Now she wouldn’t get the chance to eat, in fact would be lucky if Dad let her have a pop tart in the car.

  She yelled downstairs that she was almost ready. Mom yelled back upstairs that she should have been ready half an hour ago. She yelled back down to leave without her. Mom yelled back up that they were thinking about it.

  Dad went to warm the car. He had lost his patience.

  I was a bundle of nerves trying not to throw up.

  “Can we somehow hurry this shindig up?” said Grandpa. “I’m growing old waiting here.”

  “You already are old.”

  “Well, I don’t want to grow more old. At this rate I might as well put on some loungewear.”

  He farted.

  Finally Karen came downstairs.

  “Wow, you made it. What’d you do, fall in the toilet?”

  She stuck her tongue out at me when Mom had turned around. Mom would not tolerate that kind of behavior.

  Karen grabbed a box of pop tarts and we headed out of the house.

  “If you so much as drop one crumb in the car,” said Dad eyeing the Pop Tarts as we piled in, “I’m going to make you pick them up with a pair of tweezers while wearing a pair of my dirty socks on your head. I mean it youg lady. Last time you pulled this stunt you covered the back seat.”

  “It wasn’t me.”

  “You’re the only one that eats that stuff.”

  “That’s right,” said Grandpa. “I don’t even have real teeth.” Here he pulled out his dentures and flashed them at Karen. She squealed. Grandpa put them back in his mouth and smiled.

  Mom smacked a hand to her head and left it there. Dad sighed and pulled the car out of the driveway.

  It was going to be that kind of day. A memorable one.

  WHAT WAS I THINKING

  In the car ride over, I broke out in a sweat. My stomach also felt like it was experiencing some sort of zero G gravity. Everyone else in the car seemed cool and collected. The person riding in the passenger seat of the cars that passed by us always seemed to make eye contact with me. They could tell I was under duress. They seemed almost to reflect the sorrow of my gaze in their gaze. I suppose, then, I was not entirely alone.

  IN THE BELLY OF THE SYNAGOGUE

  I found Cantor Stein and Rabbi Meyerwitz up on the dais making sure that the chairs were aligned, the wine cup was out, and that everything was set up the way it was supposed to be. I had already separated from my family. It was probably better that way. Mom and my sister had stopped at the door to help hand out pamphlets for the ceremony so people could follow along. Dad helped meet and greet and usher people down the aisles. All of that seemed more interesting and fun to me.

  Cantor Stein asked, “Are you relaxed?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Try to be.”

  Easier said than done.

  He went over with me how the proceedings would get underway. Then the rabbi came by to shake my hand and tell me virtually the same things. Then he told me to relax and that things would get underway as soon as the seats filled.

  When he said this I made the distict mistake of looking out over the synagogue. I nervously watched as my classmates arrived, my neighbors, family and friends, relatives, all of them. The ones that wanted to put on yarmulkes at the door. I wish I could’ve warned them about the potential lice that can lurk in those things or other crazy things I had heard of. The ones that were worried about lice left them behind. Or they simply didn’t want to wear them.

  I reached to my own head to make sure mine was still there. Yarmulkes are funny things. Half the time you fret about putting them on your head, and then when they’re there, you worry about it falling off or tilting to the wrong side. It can be a very strange experience.

  My heart hit the wall. It began to thud thud thud as hard as it could. There she was: Laura Moody, wearing the most eloquent deep blue dress I had ever seen and her hair was up and she had make-up on. Wow, she wasn’t taking this lightly! She gave me a finger flutter wave when she entered. I felt my legs go rubbery beneath me. I wanted to collapse. My stomach began to feel twice as queasy. I was going to be sick, but somehow I had to get through this. I saw my parents and the rest of my family taking seats in the front row along with a handful of unlces, aunts and nephews. I swallowed hard. The show had to go on, right?

  The rabbi walked over to me.

  “We’re about ready to begin,” he said.

  Cantor Stein made some tests into the microphone. He asked everyone to be seated, and then the rabbi got up, introduced himself and began a lecture on what the significance of the ceremony was all about. He talked about how according to Jewish law when a child reached thirteen years old they became responsible for their actions. They become a Bar (son) of the commandments.

  Blah, blah blah was all I heard. Along with some audience members stifling some coughing.

  Afterwards I was called to the podium and asked to begin reading the Torah. With the metallic pointer, the rabbi indicated where I was to start reading. I did so in my sweet, high-pitched voice.

  Occasionally when I looked up from the sc
riptures, I saw a lot of my friends giggling and even saw Laura make a question mark of her face but she sat prim and proper and was very respectful. How relieved I was to see that! It made up for anybody’s misbehavior.

  I spent nearly an hour reading aloud everything I had spent so long rehearsing with Cantor Stein. Then we carried the Torah around the synagogue so that people could touch their prayer books to it. Finally I had to drink wine from the cup after the rabbi had had some of it. I nearly freaked out when I had to put my lips to the same cup that he had put his lips to—this was largely unsanitary—but I mimed doing so that I wouldn’t offend anyone. I couldn’t get over how proud Mom and Dad looked.

  And then sure enough it was over. But really just beginning…

  THE PARTY THAT MADE ME NOT WANT TO PARTY

  The room was behind the synagogue itself. There were a series of long tables all pushed together and connected in some way. Each table had a nametag of where you were supposed to sit and was accompanied by a salad, a few chocolate coin treats and other stuff of that ilk.

  Once I found my seat, which wouldn’t you know it, was at the center of the room so everyone could pay attention to me, there was a whole muddle of people ushering me into the next room. Music started up and they were singing some kind of celebration song in Hebrew that I really had never bothered to learn and all of a sudden I was up in the air and being floated around on a chair.