Chapter 27 Jewish Voodoo

 

Tuesday I woke to a sticky, breezeless morning. A groan escaped my throat as I sat on the edge of the bed and let my feet dangle to the floor. Every inch of my body still ached after Monday’s unaccustomed exercise.

There was a knock at my door. A glance at the stove clock told me it was seven a.m. I set my crossword puzzle aside, stood on creaky knees. I peeked out the kitchen window to see who was there.

I pulled the door open. “Esther! Come in.”

“I saw your light on and thought you must be up,” she said, slipping out of her rubber slippers.

“I was just finishing up the crossword.”

She took in my appearance. I hadn’t bothered to brush my hair or put on makeup yet. “ You are going to kanikapila at eleven, aren’t you?”

I sat on a kitchen chair with a sigh and pointed to the other one. “Come. Sit. Would you like some tea?”

“Oh, no. I just finished a mug of coffee. So … you are going, right?”

“I really wasn’t planning to. I woke up hurting after yesterday’s exercise.”

“It’s a good workout, isn’t it?”

“Oh my, yes. It’s deceptive. All those movements in the water seemed so gentle while I was doing them. The soreness crept up on me later in the day. By the time I woke up from my nap yesterday, I could barely move. I hurt in places I didn’t know I had.”

“Everyone says that in the beginning. It gets easier with time. I promise.”

“I hope Kaulana’s okay after her near-drowning yesterday. I couldn’t believe Romy—isn’t he supposed to be our self-proclaimed lifeguard? He just stood there and didn’t do a thing to help her.”

“Oh, Romy don’t like cold water. If someone seriously got into trouble, I’m pretty sure he’d help. But there’s no way he’s getting’ in the water if he don’t have to.”

“It looked pretty serious to me. The way Kaulana panicked, she could’ve drowned.”

Esther waved a dismissive hand. “Kaulana’s legs rise to the surface every time she gets in the pool. Let’s face it, fat floats. I mean, it happens to me sometimes, too. It’s just that I know not to panic. Kaulana, on the other hand, she panics every time. Starts screaming that she’s drowning, even though she’s in three feet of water and she’s got on a aqua jogging belt.”

“I think we both know a person can drown in three feet of water.”

Esther grew silent for a minute. “Anyways, I really think you need to be at kanikapila today. Have some lunch, enjoy the music. After that you can come home and take a nap if you want.”

After Esther left, I took another look in my nearly-empty fridge. In the freezer I found  the second loaf of challah I’d made Friday. I wrapped it in foil and put it in the oven. While the bread warmed, I threw on some capris and a tropical print blouse, brushed my hair, and dabbed on some light makeup.

***

Kaulana was a picture in pink, dressed in a floral-print mu‘umu‘u, tropical flowers pinned in her hair. “Aloha kakahiaka, Lillian.” The smile she gave me as I walked into the clubhouse was almost shy—or perhaps embarrassed?  

“Good morning.” I answered. I really needed to work on my Hawaiian greetings. I’d planned on asking her how she was doing after yesterday’s incident, but thought better of it. I’d let her be the one to bring it up.

“Glad you could make it, Lillian,” Esther said.

“Me too.” I set the warm braided bread, a stick of butter, and a little bowl of pineapple jam on the bar with the rest of the food and took a seat beside Sylvie on the sofa.

Kaulana, Tiare, and Mae played their ukuleles. Tiare and Kaulana led the singing in English and Hawaiian. I sang along to the English words of Pearly Shells.The chorus to We do it Island Style was quite catchy and by the end of the song I was singing along with it as well.

Every now and then Kaulana turned to Tiare and call out, “Pa‘ani,” which I took to mean You take it from here.

When the singing was done, the women stood and loaded their plates.

“What kind of bread is this?” Mae asked, looking at my challah.

“I brought a loaf of challah today,” I said.

“You brought holiday?” Sylvie asked, throwing her arms around me in a strong hug. . “I love holiday!”

“Sylvie,” Tiare said in a raised voice. “Lillian brought challah today.” She pronounced challah as if the word was completely familiar to her. “Turn up your hearing, Sylvie.” More quietly, she said, “Or turn up your brain.”

Sylvie released me and looked at Tiare with a pout.

“What’s challah?” Mae asked.

“It’s Jewish bread,” Esther offered helpfully. “Lillian bakes it herself.”

This drew gaping stares from Coralee, Violet, Francesca, and Mae.

“Bread is so fattening,” Coralee finally said. “Not to mention butter.”

What about Kaulana’s Bundt cakes, I wanted to ask but didn’t dare.

“I stopped eating bread years ago,” said Violet. “I decided to be gluten-free.” That hadn’t stopped her from eating Sylvie’s pot brownies.

“Gluten free—are you kidding me?” Coralee said. “You stopped eating bread because it bloated you up and made you constipated.”

Violet shot her a venomous look.

“I don’t miss eating bread at all,” said Coralee, smoothing her blouse down. With a look at me, she added, “Besides, you are what you eat.”

“I thought I smelled food.” The women’s faces lit up as Arnie strode toward the makeshift buffet.

“Here, let me make  a plate for you, honey,” Violet drawled. She grabbed a paper plate. “Do you see something that whets your appetite?” she asked suggestively, pushing her chest out.

Arnie looked right past Violet. His eyes locked on my challah,  he nearly shoved her aside. “Is that really challah?” he asked.” I swear it must be fifty years since I’ve tasted challah.”

Apparently he’d already forgotten the dinner we shared just four days ago.

He tore a piece from the loaf and shoved it in his mouth. “Mmmm … this is as good as my bubbe used to make,” he said with his mouth full. “It really brings back memories. Every morning before school Bubbe gave me a piece of hot challah slathered in butter.”

I felt the jealous stares as Arnie continued to swoon over my challah.

“Can I take some home?” he asked, his eyes bright as new pennies.

“Of course,” I said. “Please.”

He grabbed the entire loaf and took off with it like a kid absconding with a handful of cookies from the cookie jar.

“Better he eats it than me,” Mae said. “I don’t need the empty calories.

“She’s trying to work her Jewish voodoo on him, ” Violet spat, glaring at me.

“Yes, we prefer American food around here, Lillian,” said Coralee, linking arms with Violet.

“You ladies have something against Jews?” Esther asked.

“I didn’t mean that,” Coralee said, trying to backpedal. “Jews are in the Bible—”

“We know what y’all mean,” Tiare said in an exaggerated accent. “Maybe y’all better remove dem white hoods you’s wearin’!”

Sylvie shrieked. “There’s a rat in here!” She pointed toward the corner of the room.

Grateful for the interruption, I ran over to check. “It’s just a big roach.”

“I keep telling Romy vee need to fumigate,” said Francesca, peering over my shoulder.

“It was a rat,” said Sylvie. “I swear. I’m going home. I don’t wanna be here with a bunch of rats!”

Did Sylvie realize how on-point her comment was?

“Maybe I’d better go too,” I said quietly, taking my empty bread platter.

“Do not vorry, ladies,” said Francesca. “A man cannot liff wizzout meat. He vill come back zoon enough. You vill zee, uh huh. You vill zee.”