Evelyn 3

The day drags out to all eternity and then some. Sarah and Brent hang out together at recess and lunch, as if he's afraid she'll "forget". Talk about nerve, he sits there brazenly at lunch and does her math. I mean, it's not like other kids will squeal to the teachers, but the kids'll know.
Finally it registers on me, I'm jealous, losing my friend. And that is to say nothing of losing access to cable TV. Mum doesn't have, we only get CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corp). Then I fell hot shame thinking of this, it's like saying the TV is more important than our friendship.
Finally, the day is over, I head home to do laundry. As I work, I comfort myself with one thought: tonight is Retro Western, from original films and TV shows of centuries ago. It's the only thing I ever watch at home, the rest of CBC is pure mind-numbing drivel.
By the time Mum gets home, the laundry is out on the clothesline in our postage stamp size backyard and the potatoes and vegetables she put out are peeled and sliced.
As we eat, she says, "time we had a talk."
I'm on edge, knowing that tone well.
"By now you know enough Jewish history to know it could happen anywhere, anytime. Not that you have to worry, you have an absolute right to go to Israel. Still, the job market there is never wonderful. To arrive without at least working class Hebrew would be a disaster. You have a duty to learn."
By now I'm planning strategy. If I openly defy here, argue any, it'll make her thrice as stubborn. I'll never be able to wiggle out of it. But she is a flake, moving from one idea to another at the drop of a hat. (with the notable exception of the dresses.) If I seem cool, relaxed, accepting, likely disinterest will set in in her in a couple months, hopefully.
"Yes Mum, I think you're right. Some kids are rude to me, because I'm Jewish. Guess it wouldn't hurt to enrol me in the basic course."
Proud smile, "glad you agree dear. Just one problem. The rabbi won't take any girls in the class, says it's too disruptive. I'll have to teach you."
I feel the Grand Canyon yawning open in front of my feet, the dizzying vertigo as I look down. Why me G-d? What did I ever do to you?"
"No time like the present, we'll start tonight."
I could argue that tonight is the only TV I watch, but it wouldn't work, just get her mad. So I counter-attack, "but Mum, you do office work. Your eyes must be tired."
"They are. That's why we'll do spoken weeknights and written weekends."
I groooan inwardly, oy!
Next morning I hafta get up earlier, take in the dry laundry. And yes, after school today, I hafta do some of hers, but not as much.
I'm already in a foul mood as I exit for school. Just before arriving at Sarah's, that foul mood becomes more so. There he is, brazenly walking her to school. I turn around another street so they won't see me.
And so I arrive at school a little later than they. There's a huge throng of kids, loud, gathered together.
Then I see it's Himself, proudly showing off the bruises on his butt. Some boys and girls congratulate him on finally finding a girlfriend. Some girls shamelessly pinch his butt, promising the same or more if he gets tired of Sarah.
I glance at the nearby window. Those morons could be in big trouble, if any teachers are in the staff room, hear the noise, look out. No face at the window. Where are they? Other side of the building, Smokers' Corner, making two hands do the work of three as they juggle coffee, cigarette and cell phone.
A nearby girl says, in smart ass tone, "see, missed your chance."
The bell rings, so I don't bother to reply.
"Guy's a total moron," she asserts, "best kind. Train em to do an-nything!! And I mean anything. How come you're so stupid you didn't?"
She's now talking to empty space, as I'm on my way inside.