Chapter 3
Macy

The next day I got up quickly and got ready for school. Ima and Abba smiled at each other, misunderstanding my eagerness. They probably thought I was excited to get to school because yesterday went so well. The truth was, I was just anxious to clear things up with the other kids and go back to being Meskerem from Katzrin, not Macy from America.

When I reached the school, I spotted a couple of kids I recognized from my class yesterday. “Hi,” I said hopefully. The tall one with the messy ponytail, Sarah, looked up from her animated conversation with Helen.

“Oh, it’s Macy, the American,” she said sarcastically. “I was wondering, when did you make aliyah and move to Israel?”

“Actually, I was born here,” I almost whispered.

“Are you kidding me? Every day a different story!” Sarah almost spat at me. She turned to the others and said, “Ignore her. She’s just a liar!”

“But it’s the truth,” I mumbled miserably.

“Well, if you were born here, how come you know English so well? We heard you yesterday in English class!” said Gadi.

“People like you weren’t born here,” added Helen.

“What do you mean by . . . people like me?” I asked, confused.

“You know what we mean. Black Jews come from Ethiopia,” Gadi stated.

“Maybe she’s not even Jewish. Maybe she’s just black!” Sarah scowled at me.

“I am Jewish!” I cried and turned and walked away as fast as I could. The last thing I needed now was to burst into tears in front of those horrible kids. I was furious! How dare they!

My desire to tell them the truth had faded and gone.

During recess, I hung out in the pet corner with two white rabbits, three hamsters, and a blue-and-yellow cockatoo. Ariella showed me where they kept the food and how to clean the cages and left me to it. I was happy to keep busy in the pet corner. I did not even want to look at the kids in my class.

• • •

When I got back from school, I went to my room and opened my closet. I took out the two white embroidered shirts that Adi’s dad had brought me from Addis Ababa and hid them under some old jeans. From now on, I would wear the colorful printed tees from New York and Miami that Grandpa Dave had sent me for my last birthday. I folded the pretty white dress Grandma had made for me, with the carefully embroidered blue stars of David. I didn’t like wearing dresses, anyway. Then I took my box of hair accessories and removed all the green, yellow, and red ones I had so keenly collected last year. I was busy trying to erase the name Meskerem from my art folder when my mother came into the room and asked, “What are you up to?”

I jumped.

“Nothing.” I tried to act casual, flipping over the art folder so that she wouldn’t see what I had done.

“I’m going shopping. Want to come with me?” asked Ima. Usually I love shopping with my mother. She’s always so busy, it’s fun to be alone with her and talk about things. But now all I could think about was what would happen if the kids from my class saw me with her. What would they think?

For a second I thought of pretending that she wasn’t my mom if we bumped into them . . . It seemed easier just to stay at home.

“No, Ima, I’m not in the mood. I could look after Lemlem and Abeva for you,” I offered, trying to be helpful.

“That’s nice of you, but I’d rather you came with me. We could talk on the way. I don’t see enough of you lately.” Ima smiled at me, and she came closer to stroke my hair. I hurriedly slipped the art folder down between the bed and the wall and squirmed away from her hand.

“I don’t want to go,” I said grumpily.

But instead of leaving, Ima sat down on the edge of my bed and asked gently, “What’s the matter, Meskerem? You know you can talk to me.”

I looked away miserably and didn’t answer.

“You know you can tell me anything, anything at all,” Ima tried again, stroking my arm. Suddenly, I was angry—furious. I wanted her to leave me alone. I wanted her to somehow understand without me having to explain, because there was no way I could put into words what was going on.

“I can’t tell you!” I shouted at her, tears streaming down my cheeks, “You don’t understand anything!” I ran out of the room, leaving her gaping at me in surprise, a good, considerate mother with a bad liar for a daughter.

I ran out of the apartment and down the stairs, afraid I might bump into Abba if I took the elevator. I kept running until I got to the park on our corner. I sat on a swing. Where could I go? In Katzrin I would have gone straight to Grandma’s house, but here I had no one. I was just too far from home. I started undoing my braids, pulling at my hair till it hurt. I hated myself. I threw the colored beads into the bushes. When the mosquitoes started biting, I walked home slowly.

When I got back Abba tried to talk to me, but I told him I wanted to go to sleep.