“Hello, Ellie,” she said. Her expression oozed concern. “How is your grandfather?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “He’s still with the doctors.”
Her heels clicked on the flagstone as she stepped farther into the garden. “I can only imagine how worried you must be. Devon was beside himself when I stopped at Benedict’s tonight. He just had to see you.” She wore a peach skirt and a dressy white blouse that shimmered like crystals of snow. While I’d been fighting with Zeydeh, she’d been at a party.
“Can I do anything for you or your family?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I just need to tell you something. About my grandpa.” Now that the moment was here, I couldn’t work up even a little fear over this conversation. I just wanted it over.
“Of course,” she said.
I wove my fingers through my hair and tucked it behind my ears. “You once asked me about him, remember? You asked me his name.”
She nodded.
“I told you it was Samuel Morris. But that was only half of it. His whole name is Samuel Morris Levine.” I raised my chin. “I didn’t tell you because he’s Jewish. Because I’m Jewish. It wasn’t all a total lie,” I couldn’t help adding. “My dad was raised Lutheran. But I was raised Jewish.”
Her blue eyes had turned darker than the sky.
It didn’t matter. I was almost done. “I did it because I wanted the scholarship, and Devon said I’d have a better chance if you only knew the Lutheran half.”
Her throat worked up and down, but she didn’t say anything.
“Anyway.” I shrugged. “I’m pulling my application for the scholarship. I don’t want it anymore.”
I steeled myself for her to get mad or mean or both. But instead she took a step closer. Light circled her hair like a silver halo. “If that’s how you feel,” she said softly. “But for the record, I already knew you were Jewish. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I wanted you to have the scholarship.”
I must have looked ready to faint, because she gestured to the cement bench. “Why don’t we sit down?”
She sat on one end, crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt over her knees. I sat on the other end, knock-kneed and gripping the bench for balance. “I don’t understand.”
She looked toward the lit entrance to the hospital. “This really isn’t the place, but perhaps now is as good a time as any.” She smiled gently. “First of all, Ellie, I’m not a racist.”
My grip loosened, along with my stomach muscles. I felt like I could take a full breath for the first time in days.
“Racism is ignorance. I hope you’ll agree I’m not an ignorant person.”
“I know that.”
“I grew up with Jews, Ellie.” She smiled comfortingly. “I speak from experience. They’re truly not like the rest of us, and they don’t want to be.”
An icy shiver shot through me, freezing my breath. I heard the words, but I couldn’t make sense of them.
“You’re young and naive,” she said, “and you’ve been filled with stories. Of course, you’re confused. What I’m saying to you now you’ll need to think about. I understand that. I want you to know I understand a lot of things. I’ve been watching you,” she added. “I think you’re starting to see there’s more in this world. There’s a greater truth. Another path.”
I clutched the bench harder. It was still warm from the sun and the heat felt good against my numb fingers. If only I could figure out the soft smile, the kind voice.
“You and I are a lot alike, Ellie. In fact, I see myself in you.” Her smile widened. “I was also a competitor. A hard worker. I didn’t grow up wealthy, but I was determined. We’re similar in other ways, as well. You and I are both strong enough to know ourselves. To be honest with ourselves.”
When would this start making sense?
“There’s a reason you wrote ‘Christian’ on that application. I think it was a cry from deep within yourself. Maybe not consciously done, but nonetheless.”
I gasped, words finally coming from my cold lips. “You think I want to be Christian?”
She smiled as if she knew more than I did. “Your mother’s phone call only confirmed it.”
Confusion spun through me. I felt dizzy. “What do you mean, my mother’s phone call?”
“The message she left, informing me quite clearly of your Jewish background.”
“You said you didn’t get the message.” I remembered Devon hinting that something wasn’t right. But it hadn’t made sense for her to lie. It still didn’t.
“I admit, I was angry at first. But I’d seen you in church just the previous day,” she went on. “I watched you pray, Ellie. I could feel there was a connection for you. It started to make sense.”
“No. You don’t understand. I was just trying to fit in! For the scholarship.”
Diamond earrings flashed like prisms as she tilted her head. “Perhaps that’s how it began. But I wonder if that’s all it really is. I’ve seen the way you and Devon connect. The way you’ve fit in so well with the group from Benedict’s. You didn’t just keep your faith secret from me. You kept it from your classmates and your teacher. Believe me, I understand. Why would you want to identify yourself as one of those people?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You’re just saying that because of a bad business deal with someone Jewish. Devon told me.”
She smiled a little. “Is that what he said?”
“But my family is really nice,” I said. “If you got to know them—my grandpa is terrible at business. He can’t even balance his checkbook. My dad has to do it.”
Her smooth hand squeezed mine. “It’s very sweet, Ellie, your defending your family. I commend you for it. But you cannot defend an entire race. Certainly not to me,” she added. “I know exactly what they’re like. Arrogant and self-important. Wrapping themselves in the mantle of ‘the chosen people.’ ” Her eyes narrowed as if she were seeing a long way off.
I rubbed the ache at my temples. “I don’t understand why you say things like that. Why you think that way.”
She studied me for so long, I had to look down. “You think I’m being unfair, don’t you? You might be surprised, Ellie.” Her lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “Yes, I think you might be very surprised.”
“About what?”
“About the fact that once, a very long time ago, I fancied myself in love with a Jew.”
I gaped in surprise. “You were in love?”
“I imagined myself so,” she said with a nod. “As young girls will.” She laughed as if it was funny, but there was nothing funny about the intense look in her eyes. Goose bumps prickled on my bare arms.
“He was a boy I met in college,” she explained. “A Jewish boy. I ignored my natural apprehensions and allowed myself to become involved. We even talked of an engagement.”
“He broke it off?” I guessed, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
She looked at me, her eyes sparking blue fire. “Certainly not. He was very much in love. It was his parents who opposed the relationship. They didn’t consider me suitable,” she said with icy precision. “Can you imagine? No shiksa was good enough for their son. You must know that word, Ellie. As a non-Jew, I was unacceptable.” She laughed again, a harsh sound that felt like sandpaper over my skin.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Do not. Be. Sorry,” she snapped. “On the contrary.” She paused, and I could see her take a long, deep breath. Her voice level again, she said, “I owe them a great debt of thanks for opening my eyes. And it has been one of the pleasures of my life to know I’ve succeeded in every way beyond that family.”
“But that was just one family,” I said. “And they were wrong.”
“No, they were right,” she corrected. “They belong with their own kind. Just as we belong with ours.”
They? We? Ours?
A hospital helicopter flew over us. The noise roared in my head like a living thing. I covered my ears, but the confusion was inside me.
Their kind. Our kind.
What kind was I?
The helicopter faded, and I think Mrs. Yeats said more, but I wasn’t sure what. Then she reached for my hand again. “I want to help you. If you attend Benedict’s, I know I can.”
She pressed her hand over mine, waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t think what to say. I couldn’t think.
She seemed to understand. “There’s no need for you to say anything right now.” She stood up, her expression full of understanding. “It’s a lot to take in, and especially when you’re terribly worried about your grandfather, as you should be. I’ll pray for his health. And for you.”
I closed my eyes. Wished I could escape into the blackness behind my lids. But her voice flowed around me. Through me.
“Don’t worry about camp this week. Assuming your grandfather is recovered sufficiently, I’ll see you Thursday night for the oratory final. I realize your speech won’t be polished, but I don’t want you to worry about that. You understand?” She paused. “Your performance is only a formality, Ellie. The scholarship is yours.”