rifkala
03-23-2008, 01:51 AM
This is something I wrote in high school, but no one has seen. I wanted someone else's opinion on it. I'm open for pretty much anything any comments or help anyone wants to give I'd appreciate.
I glance out the plane’s window one final time to see her before take-off. She stands pressed against the gate’s glass wall waving to me, trying to convey a final “I love you.” My tears blur her image, or is it the sleeping pill? Drowsily, I lean my head against the cold window and curl up in my cushioned seat for the nine-hour flight between the States and Israel. My eyes close to block out the harsh lights, but they can’t block out the soothing memories that flood my mind: My host mother and I raking leaves and jumping in the piles, building a snowman in the park, swimming in the ocean. In the background, the droning flight attendant reviews the airplane’s safety features. The engines rumble from somewhere below me and…
***
“Wallet, lipstick, Kleenex, glasses,” Mrs. Valinsky mumbled as her hand rummaged through the contents of her purse. Where was that piece of paper? “Check the screens again, Tal” she called to her fifteen-year-old daughter.
“There’s a plane coming in at 5:00, and there’s another at 8:00. None at 6:00 from New York.” Tal reported. She scanned the black screen searching the lines of fluorescent green type for her sister’s flight. The monitors’ displays were hypnotic; some lines flashed red to announce late arrivals while others flashed blue to signal an early landing. “You’re sure it wasn’t New-ark Airport, instead of New York?” she said, shaking her curly, dark hair out of her face.
Her mother stopped searching through her purse long enough to look at the screen Tal was reading. “New-ark? Oh, you mean Newark. Umm, she might have said that.”
“Mom,” Tal sighed.
***
“You’re sure you have everything—passport, money, boarding pass?”
D’vora nodded at the tall, blond woman, her host mother for the last ten months. “It’s all here, Aunt Beth.” She patted her denim purse.
Dr. Beth Green smiled. She remembered the first breakthrough, two weeks after D’vora arrived at her apartment. She was sitting on the couch in the living room filling out tmedicine charts for her patients when D’vora came in dressed in her pajamas. She sat at Dr. Green’s feet and looked up at her. “Dr. Green” she said hesitantly. Her voice was rough, like sandpaper on wood. “I was, uh, wondering if you would mind if I called you Aunt Beth? It’s just weird saying Dr. Green.”
A smile spread across Dr. Beth Green’s freckled face. “Only if I can call you honey and sweetie and all those other pet names that aunts call their nieces in America,” she joked.
“I guess that’s fair,” D’vora laughed.
Aunt Beth jumped up from the couch. “Come on, honey, go put on some real clothes. We’re going out for ice cream.”
“Why?” D’vora asked, puzzled at her aunt’s behavior.
“Because we’re finally a family! And ice cream is how Americans celebrate.”
Aunt Beth gazed at the seventeen-year-old girl standing next to her. D’vora looked so American now, wearing American Eagle jeans and her high school hoodie. She glanced at her watch, a Hanukkah gift from D’vora. Only two hours before the plane would take off. Only two hours before she would be childless.
***
“Found it!” Mrs. Valinsky shouted. The other travelers at Ben Gurion Airport stared. The scrap of paper was buried in her make-up bag. “She’s on flight LY-4.”
Tal glared at her mother. “That’s the one from Newark.”
Mrs. Valinksy laughed. “Newark, New York, they sound alike.” Even Tal rolling her eyes couldn’t bother Mrs. Valinsky today. At this moment, she was the girl with the perfect date to the prom. Her joy radiated in her bouncing gait, flushed cheeks, and glittering green eyes. Although her black hair was sprinkled with silver, her happiness smoothed away her wrinkles.
Ten months had been too long. At first, D’vora’s weekly emails almost pacified her maternal yearnings. But as Rosh Hashanah passed and Hannukah arrived, they were not enough. Seeing photos of D’vora playing in the snow for the first time magnified her oldest daughter’s absence. She missed giving D’vora a kiss before bed. She longed for the familiarity of yelling at D’vora for leaving her dirty laundry on the floor. She stared at D’vora’s vacant bedroom and wondered why it was so clean. She loved D’vora, even when D’vora drove her crazy. Now D’vora was coming home. Mrs. Valinsky looked at the American watch D’vora had sent her for Hanukkah. “Come on Tal, we’ve got an hour and a half left. Let’s go to the waiting area.”
***
“Name?” the security guard barked.
“D’vora Valinsky.”
“May I see your identification and boarding pass?”
D’vora pulled her passport and boarding pass from her purse and showed them to the security guard. The photo depicted a scrawny teenager with dark, wavy hair and large, brown eyes. The guard glanced at the passport and absently waved D’vora through the metal detector.
Aunt Beth started to follow D’vora. “Sorry,” the security guard said, not sounding sorry at all. “Only passengers are allowed on this side of the gate,” he explained curtly, gesturing for her to step out of line.
Aunt Beth thrust a letter into the security guard’s hand. Looking haughtily down her long, thin nose, she explained, “I’m here to see D’vora off. She’s been living at my house as a foreign exchange student for the last ten months.” The security guard grimaced, but after reading the letter, reluctantly let her pass.
***
Mrs. Valinsky sat on a dirty blue airport chair waiting for D’vora. Once the plane landed, it would still take some time for D’vora to go through Israeli customs, but soon she would be reunited with her daughter. “I wonder what she will look like when she comes home,” Mrs. Valinsky thought out loud.
“Umm, Mom, probably the same. We’re still talking about I’d-prefer-comfort-to-fashion D’vora.” Tal responded.
But she’ll be different, Mrs. Valinsky thought. She won’t be just my daughter anymore. Coming home is going to be hard on all of us. What if she wants to leave again? What if she no longer considers our house her home?
***
“D’vora, tell me again what you will do once you get to Israel,” Aunt Beth demanded.
D’vora recited in her best sing-song voice, “I will call you before I go through customs in Israel—are you sure you don’t mind me calling you internationally?” Aunt Beth made a “pah” sound like a cushion being sat upon. “Ok, then I’ll call you when I find my family and again when I get my luggage. Is that all?”
Aunt Beth nodded her head. “That sounds like everything. And when are you going to take your sleeping pill?”
“As soon as I get on the plane,” she smiled. “This tiny pill makes Israel only seconds away. I’ll curl up in my seat, close my eyes, and when I wake up, I’ll be home.”
D’vora looked around the terminal. “You know, this airport is the last thing I’ll see in the States, and it’s ugly.”
“What do you mean?”
“The walls are a dull gray, the floors are dirty, the only color comes from the vending machines, and everything smells stale.” D’vora crinkled her nose.
Aunt Beth laughed at D’vora’s blunt statement. She was painfully aware that D’vora’s piercing remarks were just one more thing she would miss tomorrow. “And is Ben Gurion any better?”
D’vora tilted her head to the side. “No,” she said, “but everything else is better in Israel.”
The intercom crackled, “Attention all passengers. El-Al Airlines flight LY-4 from Newark to Tel Aviv will begin boarding in ten minutes.”
***
Mrs. Valinsky took out her mirror and debated applying more lipstick. Absently she put the mirror back in her purse and pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail. With her long hair flowing down her shoulders she wondered if D’vora would recognize her. Hastily, she retreated to her familiar hairstyle. She glanced at the clock mounted on the gray wall. It was 6:00 and the plane would touch down momentarily. Only customs separated her from D’vora. What would happen when D’vora came home? Would she still love to eat falafel? Or would she just say, “Yeah, this is good, but it was better in America.”
***
“We’d like to begin boarding rows 20 through 35 now,” the flight attendant announced.
“Come on, let’s get you in line,” Aunt Beth said, placing a comforting arm around D’vora’s shoulders. But instead of allowing Aunt Beth to guide her into the queue, D’vora turned and wrapped herself around her host mother. “It’s ok, honey. I know you’ll miss me, and I’ll miss you, too,” Aunt Beth muttered comfortingly. “You can always email me or call me.” She hugged D’vora and whispered, “You’ll be home soon, and your family can’t wait to see you.”
Aunt Beth’s heart was breaking. She didn’t know when she would see her Israeli daughter again. She would be childless and alone in the apartment. No more giving D’vora a kiss on her forehead before bed. No asking her to do a load of laundry and then walking in to find the laundry untouched. No reminding D’vora to clean her room. She loved D’vora, even with all her faults.
But it was time. “I love you,” D’vora whispered to Aunt Beth’s tear stained blouse. She released her hold on Aunt Beth and walked towards the plane.
***
…the wheels come down and we land safely. I emerge groggily from the airplane. No time has passed. This gate is the same cold, dull gray. This airport also smells stale. As I walk through the archway, I hear my mother and Tal calling, “Welcome home, D’vora!”
Behind me, I hear someone whisper, “D’vora,” in an American accent. I spin around, searching for Aunt Beth. I can’t find her freckled, smiling face among the throng of passengers and families. But I see my mother, her hair in its usual ponytail, her green eyes brighter than ever. Aunt Beth is an ocean away, a language away, and a culture away. My mother is here before me. And I am the bridge.
I glance out the plane’s window one final time to see her before take-off. She stands pressed against the gate’s glass wall waving to me, trying to convey a final “I love you.” My tears blur her image, or is it the sleeping pill? Drowsily, I lean my head against the cold window and curl up in my cushioned seat for the nine-hour flight between the States and Israel. My eyes close to block out the harsh lights, but they can’t block out the soothing memories that flood my mind: My host mother and I raking leaves and jumping in the piles, building a snowman in the park, swimming in the ocean. In the background, the droning flight attendant reviews the airplane’s safety features. The engines rumble from somewhere below me and…
***
“Wallet, lipstick, Kleenex, glasses,” Mrs. Valinsky mumbled as her hand rummaged through the contents of her purse. Where was that piece of paper? “Check the screens again, Tal” she called to her fifteen-year-old daughter.
“There’s a plane coming in at 5:00, and there’s another at 8:00. None at 6:00 from New York.” Tal reported. She scanned the black screen searching the lines of fluorescent green type for her sister’s flight. The monitors’ displays were hypnotic; some lines flashed red to announce late arrivals while others flashed blue to signal an early landing. “You’re sure it wasn’t New-ark Airport, instead of New York?” she said, shaking her curly, dark hair out of her face.
Her mother stopped searching through her purse long enough to look at the screen Tal was reading. “New-ark? Oh, you mean Newark. Umm, she might have said that.”
“Mom,” Tal sighed.
***
“You’re sure you have everything—passport, money, boarding pass?”
D’vora nodded at the tall, blond woman, her host mother for the last ten months. “It’s all here, Aunt Beth.” She patted her denim purse.
Dr. Beth Green smiled. She remembered the first breakthrough, two weeks after D’vora arrived at her apartment. She was sitting on the couch in the living room filling out tmedicine charts for her patients when D’vora came in dressed in her pajamas. She sat at Dr. Green’s feet and looked up at her. “Dr. Green” she said hesitantly. Her voice was rough, like sandpaper on wood. “I was, uh, wondering if you would mind if I called you Aunt Beth? It’s just weird saying Dr. Green.”
A smile spread across Dr. Beth Green’s freckled face. “Only if I can call you honey and sweetie and all those other pet names that aunts call their nieces in America,” she joked.
“I guess that’s fair,” D’vora laughed.
Aunt Beth jumped up from the couch. “Come on, honey, go put on some real clothes. We’re going out for ice cream.”
“Why?” D’vora asked, puzzled at her aunt’s behavior.
“Because we’re finally a family! And ice cream is how Americans celebrate.”
Aunt Beth gazed at the seventeen-year-old girl standing next to her. D’vora looked so American now, wearing American Eagle jeans and her high school hoodie. She glanced at her watch, a Hanukkah gift from D’vora. Only two hours before the plane would take off. Only two hours before she would be childless.
***
“Found it!” Mrs. Valinsky shouted. The other travelers at Ben Gurion Airport stared. The scrap of paper was buried in her make-up bag. “She’s on flight LY-4.”
Tal glared at her mother. “That’s the one from Newark.”
Mrs. Valinksy laughed. “Newark, New York, they sound alike.” Even Tal rolling her eyes couldn’t bother Mrs. Valinsky today. At this moment, she was the girl with the perfect date to the prom. Her joy radiated in her bouncing gait, flushed cheeks, and glittering green eyes. Although her black hair was sprinkled with silver, her happiness smoothed away her wrinkles.
Ten months had been too long. At first, D’vora’s weekly emails almost pacified her maternal yearnings. But as Rosh Hashanah passed and Hannukah arrived, they were not enough. Seeing photos of D’vora playing in the snow for the first time magnified her oldest daughter’s absence. She missed giving D’vora a kiss before bed. She longed for the familiarity of yelling at D’vora for leaving her dirty laundry on the floor. She stared at D’vora’s vacant bedroom and wondered why it was so clean. She loved D’vora, even when D’vora drove her crazy. Now D’vora was coming home. Mrs. Valinsky looked at the American watch D’vora had sent her for Hanukkah. “Come on Tal, we’ve got an hour and a half left. Let’s go to the waiting area.”
***
“Name?” the security guard barked.
“D’vora Valinsky.”
“May I see your identification and boarding pass?”
D’vora pulled her passport and boarding pass from her purse and showed them to the security guard. The photo depicted a scrawny teenager with dark, wavy hair and large, brown eyes. The guard glanced at the passport and absently waved D’vora through the metal detector.
Aunt Beth started to follow D’vora. “Sorry,” the security guard said, not sounding sorry at all. “Only passengers are allowed on this side of the gate,” he explained curtly, gesturing for her to step out of line.
Aunt Beth thrust a letter into the security guard’s hand. Looking haughtily down her long, thin nose, she explained, “I’m here to see D’vora off. She’s been living at my house as a foreign exchange student for the last ten months.” The security guard grimaced, but after reading the letter, reluctantly let her pass.
***
Mrs. Valinsky sat on a dirty blue airport chair waiting for D’vora. Once the plane landed, it would still take some time for D’vora to go through Israeli customs, but soon she would be reunited with her daughter. “I wonder what she will look like when she comes home,” Mrs. Valinsky thought out loud.
“Umm, Mom, probably the same. We’re still talking about I’d-prefer-comfort-to-fashion D’vora.” Tal responded.
But she’ll be different, Mrs. Valinsky thought. She won’t be just my daughter anymore. Coming home is going to be hard on all of us. What if she wants to leave again? What if she no longer considers our house her home?
***
“D’vora, tell me again what you will do once you get to Israel,” Aunt Beth demanded.
D’vora recited in her best sing-song voice, “I will call you before I go through customs in Israel—are you sure you don’t mind me calling you internationally?” Aunt Beth made a “pah” sound like a cushion being sat upon. “Ok, then I’ll call you when I find my family and again when I get my luggage. Is that all?”
Aunt Beth nodded her head. “That sounds like everything. And when are you going to take your sleeping pill?”
“As soon as I get on the plane,” she smiled. “This tiny pill makes Israel only seconds away. I’ll curl up in my seat, close my eyes, and when I wake up, I’ll be home.”
D’vora looked around the terminal. “You know, this airport is the last thing I’ll see in the States, and it’s ugly.”
“What do you mean?”
“The walls are a dull gray, the floors are dirty, the only color comes from the vending machines, and everything smells stale.” D’vora crinkled her nose.
Aunt Beth laughed at D’vora’s blunt statement. She was painfully aware that D’vora’s piercing remarks were just one more thing she would miss tomorrow. “And is Ben Gurion any better?”
D’vora tilted her head to the side. “No,” she said, “but everything else is better in Israel.”
The intercom crackled, “Attention all passengers. El-Al Airlines flight LY-4 from Newark to Tel Aviv will begin boarding in ten minutes.”
***
Mrs. Valinsky took out her mirror and debated applying more lipstick. Absently she put the mirror back in her purse and pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail. With her long hair flowing down her shoulders she wondered if D’vora would recognize her. Hastily, she retreated to her familiar hairstyle. She glanced at the clock mounted on the gray wall. It was 6:00 and the plane would touch down momentarily. Only customs separated her from D’vora. What would happen when D’vora came home? Would she still love to eat falafel? Or would she just say, “Yeah, this is good, but it was better in America.”
***
“We’d like to begin boarding rows 20 through 35 now,” the flight attendant announced.
“Come on, let’s get you in line,” Aunt Beth said, placing a comforting arm around D’vora’s shoulders. But instead of allowing Aunt Beth to guide her into the queue, D’vora turned and wrapped herself around her host mother. “It’s ok, honey. I know you’ll miss me, and I’ll miss you, too,” Aunt Beth muttered comfortingly. “You can always email me or call me.” She hugged D’vora and whispered, “You’ll be home soon, and your family can’t wait to see you.”
Aunt Beth’s heart was breaking. She didn’t know when she would see her Israeli daughter again. She would be childless and alone in the apartment. No more giving D’vora a kiss on her forehead before bed. No asking her to do a load of laundry and then walking in to find the laundry untouched. No reminding D’vora to clean her room. She loved D’vora, even with all her faults.
But it was time. “I love you,” D’vora whispered to Aunt Beth’s tear stained blouse. She released her hold on Aunt Beth and walked towards the plane.
***
…the wheels come down and we land safely. I emerge groggily from the airplane. No time has passed. This gate is the same cold, dull gray. This airport also smells stale. As I walk through the archway, I hear my mother and Tal calling, “Welcome home, D’vora!”
Behind me, I hear someone whisper, “D’vora,” in an American accent. I spin around, searching for Aunt Beth. I can’t find her freckled, smiling face among the throng of passengers and families. But I see my mother, her hair in its usual ponytail, her green eyes brighter than ever. Aunt Beth is an ocean away, a language away, and a culture away. My mother is here before me. And I am the bridge.