Chapter 25: DIRTY LAUNDRY
God's Little Drop of Water
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Taliya and Yair arrived home from school one afternoon. They boarded the small elevator (which had been repaired). Technically, they weren’t supposed to be using the elevator without the supervision of an adult.
But Taliya was tall enough to reach the buttons. As far as she was concerned, if she could reach up and press the number 4, she was old enough to ride the elevator. And Yair, too. It was certainly better than climbing the stairs to the fourth floor!
Just as the elevator door was closing, Keren entered. Keren was the same age as Yair, and she was from Argentina. She had moved to Israel last year with her family. Taliya knew that Yair liked Keren very much. He spoke of her often. They were in the same class together as well. Taliya had suggested many times that Yair go and speak with her and ask her to be his girlfriend.
But Yair was too scared. He was afraid Keren might say no to him.
Now, the three of them were alone in the elevator.
“Keren, you like my brother, Yair, right?” Taliya asked.
Keren smiled and nodded.
“Yair, you like Keren, right?”
Mortified, Yair managed to nod his head as well.
“Keren,” Taliya continued, “do you want to be Yair’s girlfriend?”
There was a distinct thump! as Yair tried to plaster himself against the wall of the elevator, the walls of which were painted bright yellow.
Keren nodded her head once more and said, “Ken!” which meant Yes.
“Yair,” said Taliya, “do you want to be Keren’s boyfriend?”
Yair glanced at Keren, who was smiling broadly. She had lovely teeth.
Yair nodded. Slightly. He was very excited about Keren being his girlfriend, but he was not certain about Taliya’s methods of arranging their new relationship.
“Great!” said Taliya. “You’re now boyfriend and girlfriend.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the third floor and Keren exited the elevator, she asked Yair if he wanted to come in for a piece of warm banana bread, because her mother had just baked some.
Yair said that he did, and he exited the elevator with Keren.
Taliya was very pleased that she had been able to make Yair and Keren happy.
♦♦♦
The next day, Taliya was at home, and was in her bedroom after school, playing the flute when the front door slammed.
It was Yair.
He flopped on the sofa, arms crossed, and quite upset.
Taliya asked what was wrong. Yair proceeded to explain that his new Argentinian girlfriend Keren had moved back to Argentina with her family that day. She had gone! He hadn’t noticed any evidence when he’d been in their apartment the previous day. No boxes, no piles of stuff waiting to be packed, no one-way airplane ticket with Keren’s name on it!
Taliya asked if at any time while they were enjoying warm banana bread had Keren or any member of her family mentioned the big move back to their home country.
Yair assured Taliya that Keren had said nothing.
Anyway, it didn’t matter. Keren had gone. And Yair was very sad.
To cheer him up, Ima prepared one of Yair’s favorite meals, spaghetti and meatballs with marinara sauce.
Yuck! During dinner, when no one was looking, Taliya grabbed her entire meatball and casually left the table. She’d promised not to throw the flute out the window, but she’d made no such promises about meatballs.
Taliya drew back her arm and hurled the meatball out the window. She then hurried to the restroom, the sherutim, eager to wash the meaty sauce from her hand. She flushed the toilet, washed her hand, and returned to her place at the L-shaped table, where she finished her delicious spaghetti noodles.
The next day, Taliya was once more in her bedroom after school, working at learning to play the flute, when there was a great pounding on the front door.
Ima opened it to reveal a neighbor, a woman who lived downstairs. The woman stood there, holding what appeared to be a soiled bedsheet. The pristine white sheet had spaghetti sauce all over it, which was just as red as the woman’s face. She wanted to know who was throwing tomato sauce on her clean laundry, which had been hung out to dry yesterday afternoon.
Ima rebuffed the woman’s accusations, herself becoming quite indignant, and quite loud, as Ima was known to occasionally do. Ima insisted that her children would never do such a thing.
After several more minutes of hysterics, Ima closed the door in the woman’s face and returned to grading her students’ papers.
Taliya was grateful, and relieved, that Ima did not ask her if she knew anything about the soiled sheet. Taliya then resolved that throwing meat out of the window was no longer a feasible method of disposal.
That evening, she tossed her meatball behind the washing machine.
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