Mean

by Justin Sayre

  Mom comes down showered and looking a lot better than she did. She’s dressed and a little calm, when the doorbell rings. It’s Ducks’s mom with a basket full of breads and things. See, something gets figured out even when you don’t plan on it. Ducks’s mom and my mom talk for a long time while I think about the ways to get us up to Aunt Claire’s. I leave them to talk and go up to my room to think for a minute of all the things I need to do.

  I keep thinking about what I said to my mom. Alone in my room, I think about all the things happening to me and my family and everyone I know. It all does seem like too much. All of it overwhelming and awful, but also a lot of it isn’t. A lot of it’s lovely. A lot of it’s funny and beautiful and sad. How are we ever supposed to do it? But we do. We all do. That’s part of being a woman. It’s not being one thing, but being true to all the things you are. Not simple. Not all good or all bad, but just yourself. Not Mean or Husky or Pretty or any other word you can try to boil a person down to. To be a woman, or at least the woman I want to be, is a lot of things. And I want to be all of them. Even if some hurt.

  I just want to be all of myself.

  Chapter 26

  When Dad comes home with Hannah and her new dress, I tell him about my plan. He thinks it’s great and thanks me for being such a help. He says he’s proud of me, and it’s not like he’s never said this to me before, but in this moment it feels more important. He packs up some things to take with us, and we all head to the subway together. Hannah holds my hand the whole way and signs me so many questions it’s almost hard to keep up. I answer everything that I can, and smile at her for the ones I can’t.

  At Aunt Claire’s, everything just seems to make a lot more sense. Bubbe smiles and hugs us, happy to have her family with her. Aunt Debbie hasn’t gotten there yet, but they’ve heard from her and she and Shelley will be there in about an hour. Mom and Aunt Claire make the rest of the phone calls telling everyone about the funeral tomorrow. Bubbe sits with Hannah and me and gets me to sign everything she says to Hannah, who loves the attention.

  The rest of the evening is mostly laughing. I know that may sound strange, but it’s true. Aunt Debbie comes over with Uncle Andrew and Shelley. We order food and make our way through a lot of the stuff that Ducks’s mom had given us earlier. We talk about Zayde, remembering all his jokes and sayings. One by one all the girls tell about something special that Zayde did for them. My uncle and my dad tell how he gave almost the identical speech to each of them when they were marrying his daughters. “If you ever hurt her, I won’t kill you. But I’ll help my wife bury you after she does.”

  Aunt Claire’s son, Aaron, gets in at around 9:30 p.m. from college. He’s gotten so much older from the last time I saw him and he and Shelley start talking to each other about older teenager things that apparently I don’t know anything about, but I don’t really care. I would rather sit and listen to the stories about Zayde. I love hearing about him. It makes him seem like he’s not so gone as he feels in the quiet.

  By eleven Hannah is asleep on the couch and Dad says he thinks it will be easier for us to stay here rather than come back in the morning for the funeral. Aunt Claire gets out some air mattresses and we all settle down for the night. It’s a weird way to have a sleepover, but in that moment it seems perfect. None of us want to be apart, none of us want to feel separate. We’ve had too much separation already.

  Bubbe and her daughters stay up late talking. I stay awake on the couch trying to listen to it all. I’m sleepy, snuggling next to Hannah, but I don’t want to miss anything. I think I’m getting it all, until I close my eyes for one minute and the next minute Dad is shaking me awake and telling me to get up and get dressed.

  It happened so quickly, but it’s morning and we’re all on a tight schedule to get everyone showered and dressed and over to the funeral home. It’s hectic, with only one bathroom, but we manage. I take a quick shower after Shelley and put on my black dress in Bubbe’s room. She’s sitting on the bed trying to put her makeup on without a mirror. All the mirrors in the house are covered for the shivah. It’s the period of mourning we do as Jews. We cover up all the mirrors, as a way of focusing on the loss. We can’t worry about how we look or what we’re wearing. We’re just there to mourn.

  “Am I getting this right?” Bubbe asks me about her blush.

  “Yes, you look good,” I tell her.

  “Oh, good. He’d like that.” Bubbe smiles.

  We’re all showered and dressed earlier than we expected, so we’re left to just sit around for a while, which makes us all laugh. “This is the first time this family has ever all been early for something ever,” Aunt Claire says. I guess we all wanted to be ready for today, though I don’t think any of us really are.

  We get downstairs and into cabs as we head over to the funeral home. The rabbi there is an older man with thick glasses who remembers my zayde from when he used to live in New York. We all go in and get into our seats up front. We’re early, but slowly people start to crowd in. It’s a little different than how I expected to see any of these people, but here they are. It’s a lot sadder than how I imagined it.

  So many cousins and friends. People Mom and Dad work with. Friends of my Aunt Debbie. Ducks and his mom are there. Even his grandmother. Sophie comes with her mother. Charlie is there with his mother. Also, surprisingly, Allegra. My initial thought seeing her is that she just wanted an excuse to get out of school, but I think I should just be grateful that she is there. If I can be more than one thing, so can she.

  Rabbi Jessica comes in, which seems so great and a lot more of a comfort than I thought it would be. She smiles at me from the back and sits down, saving a seat for Noah and his dad. Noah’s wearing a dark suit and a yarmulke, and he looks so beautiful, I can’t help but smile. Bubbe sees the smile, and says, “Is that your Noah?” She clicks at me. My mom hears this and looks at me.

  “Who’s ‘your Noah’?” she asks. I tell her I will tell her later, but that doesn’t stop her from turning around and taking a look. Which makes Aunt Debbie and Aunt Claire and Shelley and my dad all take a look too. Is it bad to say that you want to die at a funeral? Because I feel like I do, even though I don’t.

  Finally the rabbi begins the service. The small casket that holds Zayde is in the middle of the aisle. It’s so strange and awful to think of him in there. He was just here. He was just getting ready with all the rest of us for the big party tomorrow. And now he’s in there. So alone, and I don’t know why it hits me so hard, but I realize that he’s truly not going to be with me tomorrow. Tomorrow when I have to speak my haftarah portion and become a woman in front of all these people, Zayde won’t be there. I start to cry.

  I just want to leave, but I know I can’t. I don’t want to become a woman without Zayde. It’ll seem so different without him. I want to be a little kid again, when none of this happens or if it does I don’t know anything about it. I don’t want to feel the pain of loss like this, and I don’t know how it goes away. I want to go back, and I start to cry like the child that I really am. The tears aren’t just sad, but confused and lost and losing.

  Everything’s changing, and part of that change means losing things. Losing people and places and all the things that I think matter and maybe even one day losing myself. I hate to be thinking about myself at this moment, but I do, because I’m afraid, and I want it all to stop. But it won’t, and I don’t know what else to do but cry.

  After the service, we head out to the reception room for tea and coffee before we go out to Queens for the burial. We all go around and thank all the people who came. I get passed around from one group of adults to another, thanking everyone and listening to how sorry they feel for me that such a terrible thing happened right before my bat mitzvah. I finally make my way over to Sophie, Ducks, and Charlie to get away from all the pitiful looks. Each hugs me so tight it makes me snap out of the weird feeling of hating and loving everyone here.
/>   “How are you doing?” Ducks asks.

  “Okay, I guess. It’s hard to say,” I answer.

  “I know,” Ducks says and holds my arm for a while. I know he does, he lost his grandfather a few years ago and it was awful for him. But he lived with him and he had more time with his grandfather than I did with Zayde. Sophie tells me she likes my dress and she’s glad I’m wearing one of the bras we bought. I know she’s being silly just to make me laugh and I appreciate it. She always knows how to be the perfect amount of wrong.

  Allegra comes out of the bathroom and comes over to us. She’s a little shy, which is weird to see. But she slowly comes in for a hug, and because I have no idea what else to do, I hug her back.

  “You must feel terrible. It’s, like, a terrible thing,” Allegra says as she pulls out of the hug.

  “It just is. It’s not like,” I reply. I know I should be nicer, I mean, she did come all the way up here, but I can’t help my almost reflex of annoyance with her.

  “It’s nice that Noah came too,” Allegra says, looking around the room for him. He’s over to the side with his dad, who’s talking with the rabbi in the thick glasses. Noah waves to me from across the room, and everyone sees but only Allegra says something. Of course.

  “He likes you so much. He was, like, crushed when you left Wednesday.”

  “Well, I had more important things to do,” I say, and sweep away from her and the rest of my friends, but I know they will understand. I walk over to Noah and say hello. He even smells nice, which on this day seems like the sweetest thing he could have done. Besides coming and seeing me, he sprayed on something to smell nice. He’s so great.

  “How are you?” Noah asks.

  “You’re the fortieth person who’s asked me that.” I laugh. “I’m terrible and okay and scared and a thousand things, I guess. How are you?”

  Noah smiles and puts his hand on mine and says, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  He flashes his eyes at me, then looks down at my shoes, and I can’t totally explain why, but in that moment, with Noah’s hand on mine in the front room of the funeral home where my grandfather is in a coffin, all I want to do is make out with this beautiful, sweet boy who is just letting me be whatever I want. I want to kiss him right now and probably never stop. I don’t care about what anyone would say or what anyone would think, but I don’t. I want to, but I don’t. I think I’ll get another chance.

  Mom comes over and introduces herself. She’s collecting me to help with Hannah. We’re heading out to the cemetery, and we all have to get into the dark cars outside to take us out to Queens. Mom needs a little help with Hannah, who’s jumpy and excited around all the people. She’s beginning to understand how sad and terrible this day is, but she’s also feeling so happy to be around so many people she loves. I take her by the hand and we start to make our way to the cars. Hannah asks me as we get our coats on and head outside if Zayde’s coming?

  Yes, I sign back to her. We’re going to bury him.

  That’s terrible, she signs back to me. I don’t want people to go away.

  I know, I sign to her. But I’m not going anywhere. I promise.

  Promise, she asks me.

  I promise. Forever.

  Even though I know it might not always be true, I want her to believe it. I want to believe it too.

  Mom and Dad put us into one of the rented cars with Bubbe and Aunt Debbie. Bubbe looks tired and hungry. I know she hasn’t eaten yet today, because I’ve been watching her a bit. She’s being so strong, smiling at everyone and thanking them all for coming. People want to feel sorry for her, but she would never let that happen. She’s holding it together but the strain of it all is starting to show.

  The minute the door closes, my Aunt Debbie starts talking about this Noah. Mom thinks he’s very cute and so does Bubbe, who perks up a little. Aunt Debbie says that his father is very nice. A very nice attorney, which makes everyone in the car groan and laugh. My dad doesn’t like any of this conversation and keeps asking to find out who this Noah is and why he didn’t get to talk to him. I tell them all to stop, I mean, it’s beyond embarrassing, but it’s also something to laugh about. I like laughing with them, and if I get to think about Noah at the same time, I’ll take it. I’ll take any of it today. Now Hannah wants to know who Noah is too.

  We drive for a while, till I think it’s almost impossible that we’re still in New York, but then I see the headstones. In New York there are so many people that even the cemeteries look crowded. We pull into a very crowded one, with thousands upon thousands of gravestones, and Bubbe sighs.

  “My mother is buried out here. We should say hello after,” she says, looking out the window. Aunt Debbie pats her hand and says of course. The car drives a long way into the cemetery past rows and rows of tombstones. Until finally the hearse, the car carrying Zayde in his coffin, stops. We’re here.

  The rabbi with the thick glasses leads us up to the site of the grave and Dad and my uncles and cousin all help to carry Zayde. The rabbi says a few words and then, one by one, we all watch as Zayde is put into the ground. It feels terrible and I want to cry again, but I want to watch Bubbe more. She’s so still. After they lower Zayde into the ground, the rabbi tells us that we’re to take some dirt, dirt that’s piled up beside the open hole in the ground, and place it in on top of Zayde’s casket.

  I don’t want to do it. It seems so awful and cruel and I tell Mom so, but she just looks at me. Dad says I don’t have to if I don’t want to, but Aunt Claire hears this and pulls me aside.

  “Ellen, it’s something more important than you know,” she says quietly to me. “It’s about covering him with love. It means something.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want to,” I say, a little louder than I want to.

  “That’s your choice, but I want you to think about this. When you take that dirt in your hand, think about all the love you have for Zayde. When you throw it in after him, you’re covering him with that love so that he can be held in it. I know it sounds strange, but it matters.”

  Aunt Claire’s tearing up a little and I tell her I’ll do it, though I still think it’s awful. I get in the line alone. Hannah is sitting with Mom, who smiles at seeing me change my mind. I don’t know that I have, but at least I’m in line. When I get to the pile of dirt, I take a handful and think of Zayde. His smile. His laugh. His jokes. Even the bad ones, and I squeeze the dirt in my hand and start to talk to him.

  Zayde, I’m sorry you’re gone. I wanted you to be here for my bat mitzvah, and I’m sorry that you’re not. Not because I’m trying to be selfish, just because I want you here, or anywhere. I miss you. And I’m sorry I didn’t say that more often or call you more often or spend more time with you. I am so sorry you were so sick, but I still wish you were here. I need you to be here. I love you so much. I hope you always know that.

  And I throw in the dirt, trying to think of covering him with love like Aunt Claire said. All the people at the graveside do the same, and while they don’t cover him completely, at least it’s nice to think about all the love he has there with him now. People start to get back in the cars, but Bubbe asks me to walk with her over to her mother’s grave.

  Aunt Debbie and Aunt Claire follow and so does Mom once she gets Hannah into the car with Dad. We walk for a while past so many headstones with so many different names. I don’t even know if Bubbe knows where’s she’s going, but we follow her until she stops and says, “Hi, Mama.”

  We’re all standing before a small gravestone with the name Klemowitz on it. It’s where my great-grandmother and great-grandfather are buried. Bubbe says hello to him too, and to her aunt Zelda, who’s just a stone behind. She pulls me close and introduces me.

  “This is our Ellen. She’s going to be bat mitzvahed tomorrow. Can you believe it? She’s a woman.” She hugs my shoulders hard and pulls me close to her. “We buried m
y Herb today. Watch out for him. I know you never liked him in life, but I did. I liked him very much and it would mean a great deal to me to know that you were looking out for him.”

  Bubbe starts to cry as she says this. And one by one we all move closer to her to hold her up. She puts a pebble on her mother’s stone and one on her aunt Zelda’s, and kisses them. When she turns around to look at us, she’s smiling.

  “Let’s get home.” She says. “I’m starving, and we have a long day tomorrow.”

  Chapter 27

  When I wake up the next morning, I don’t move out of bed. I just lie there. Yesterday was so much. After the graveside, we went back to Aunt Claire’s and sat with family and friends there. We didn’t get home to Brooklyn until almost eleven, and by then I was so wired, thinking about my Hebrew and my talk and everything else, that I could barely sleep. It wasn’t the excitement of today keeping me up. It was mostly the dread. I don’t know how I’m going to do any of it. I don’t even know if it’s possible.

  I lie there for a while, really still. Then I try to get up, quietly without waking up Hannah. She came into my bed, not because my mom and dad were fighting, but just because neither of us wanted to sleep alone. I get up and go over to the mirror in my closet and look at myself for a long time. I don’t totally know what I’m looking for. I know I haven’t changed overnight. I didn’t magically become a woman, not that I can see. I’m just looking. It’s not that I like my face that much, but I’m looking at it, just trying to see who I am and who I’m going to be today. I want something to look different, but I don’t see it. I tiptoe out of the room to get a shower. I don’t think anyone’s awake yet, but when I get out into the hallway, Dad’s already out there, waiting for the bathroom himself.