Chapter III

Eli's air-head behavior causes a problem at school and we learn more about who he is.

 I sat at a desk, there was sink on the desk and it had a several vials on the desk. There were assorted chemicals next to the sink, along with two textbooks next to the stools. I propped my feet up on the bottom of the stool and waited as Chaim sat next to me and started fingering through his textbook. 

The teacher was soon droning on about the process of hypothesis and teaching of harmful chemicals that could produce both fumes and flames if not used properly. I wondered how much he got paid, because the tone of his voice was quite monotone and it gave me a chill to think if I was his son. 

Chaim looked at me, "This is some boring s**t."

"I'm trying to pay attention, hard as it is," I replied, jokingly. Chaim giggled gently while he looked at the textbook. Before long, we were mixing chemicals and making interesting concoctions. I wondered how many chemical fires were started each year. Back in the early years, it was just biology and homework. Now we were mixing chemicals and trying to bring Frankenstein to life. 

Chaim whispered, "So what are you doing after school today?"

"Making dinner, homework, trying to build something of my life in literature."

"Well," he cleared his throat, "Let's get together and try to get a hypothesis started and finished. Think you could be up to that?"

My heart was beating hard again. I knew tonight would be an adventure worth writing about. Maybe I could even tell him a few interesting stories about my summer vacation to Poland, with my uncle, Shmuel. Maybe I could talk him into watching a movie, sitting ont he couch together, and maybe I could hold his hand. It would be a dream come true. 

Chaim's voice was in my ears, "Eli watch it. Eli? Eliyahu?"

My daze of thoughts was interrupted as the fire alarm went off and water sprayed throughout the room, and inevitably, throughout the school. People dashed outside of the classrooms. I looked at my desk, seeing a huge fire being put out by the waters, and was quickly pulled out of the classroom and into the parking lot with others. It was cold outside, my body was drenched in water and my sweater was weighted with water. As I watched firetrucks arrive and firemen break into the windows and let the firing inferno break out of the windows, I looked at Chaim who still had his hand tightly gripped around my right forearm. I made no move for him to let go, I felt safe in his arms, or well, his hand. 

He looked at me, then at my arm and quickly let go. Suddenly, I felt alone again, as Mr. Inglewood came up to me and said, "Fires need to be dealt with quickly, Mr. Leibowitz, I hope your absent-minded behavior isn't a continuous problem or we're going to have to learn in a fire department."

Chaim put his arm around my shoulders and said, "Don't let him get to you."

I nodded, his arm, his words, everything about him made me quiver slightly. I looked up at him and said, "The answer's yes. You can come over tonight." I have a feeling a pillow is not going to be enough to stop my tears tonight. School was cancelled that day. And everyone got to go home. Needless to say, it put me on the good side of several high school students and the bad side of several teachers. I only hoped that Mr. Hartman didn't hate me too.

I decided to walk home, knowing I was probably going to be a wanted criminal if I rode a bus, so I began to walk along the sidewalk and looked down at my feet as I walked along. First day of school and I had already set the damned place on fire. I really liked the school too. I wondered what was going to happen tomorrow, maybe school would be out, and I wouldn't have to go to classes that day. 

Another thing made me think.

I was in love with Chaim. I really hadn't realized it until I was in second grade. Chaim and I hadn't been close back then, but he was secretive and I was interested in mysterious people. By third grade, I was constantly wondering what he was doing and thinking about. On Valentine's Day, I wanted to give him my card, but I broke down and gave it to Alice Fieldman. Soon enough, in fourth grade, I knew I was gay. I didn't know who to tell or what to say to anyone. I didn't even think anyone would love me anymore if they knew I was. I sometimes wanted to die because in Hillborough it seemed to be a big crime to be homosexual. Conservatives ran the town into the ground and it was a bad thing to be LGBT or even supportive of those lifestyles. 

My father was supportive of homosexuality, as was my mother, and my grandfather even. That's why we were Reform Jews. In Reform Judaism, they teach about equality with women and men; they stress away the ideas of blood atonement, and finally, they stress acceptance of homosexuals. My grandfather was a Reform Rabbi, my father was studying for it whenever he was killed in a car accident, and I plan to one day attend a Reform Yeshiva. 

The tenets of Reform Judaism have been very helpful to my life. Even if I am in the closet, I am a thankfully observant Reform Jew and I know that that is all I need. All I need is to follow HaShem (G-d) and accept all who are willing to love H-m. 

Finally I made it to my house, making it just in time to look up the road and see the bus group getting off the bus. I unlocked my door and made my way into the house. It was cold outside, but the warmth of my house made it worth the long trip. It was a beautiful house. The walls had pictures of my family on it, the furniture was inviting, and the kitchen had a large refrigerator, cabinets, and a hooked-neck sink. I sat my backpack on the sofa, pulled my uneaten lunch out, and got to the dining table. Pretty soon, I was eating my bagel and drinking my coke. Everything was already in shambles and it was just the first freaking day of school.

Help me, I prayed in my head.

I wondered if Chaim would make good on his offer to come over to my house. I figured he would, he's always been there for me. We became really close friends when I was a freshman, because that's the year that my father was killed. I went to school broken-hearted, and the only person who was there for me was Chaim Weiss. Not my cousin, Jacob, or his sister, Rachel, or anyone else in my family. Even my mother was too distraught by his death to be there for me, but I don't blame her. She felt how I would if, well, if Chaim was killed.

I couldn't believe I just thought that. I really did like him. Chaim was worth the love, I thought, he was worth a hug and a night of coffee and talk.

I knew I might have a slim chance with this. Chaim's family wasn't Reform, they were traditionalists, Orthodox Jews. That seemed to be the only problem in my head with my love with Chaim Weiss. Reform Jews are liberal. We believe in acceptance, we believe in the love of others, and the less-than-strict observances of the traditions set in the Torah. Orthodox are very tradtional, very stern, and very hard on the teachings of the Torah and Talmud. And very few ever accepted homosexuality. 

That was Chaim's family. And I knew it would be a Shakespearean play if I was to ever become part of it.

Reviews

[Len Gesinski]

Good solid write, I already replied back to you privately on FB>