Noah Green Saves the World

by Laura Toffler-Corrie

  At that moment, a loud version of “Sunrise, Sunset” blares from his phone.

  “Lake time!” Josh says.

  The rest of the campers quickly collect their stuff and bolt toward the shore. I glance back over at Mia, who’s trotting to catch up with her bunkmates.

  I think about what the rabbi said about tikkun olam. Mia sort of does that with her passion for the environment and her songs about the dangers of burping plastic.

  My mind snaps to Pops and his messages about saving the world. Could it be true? Could I really help save the world? Would that make me a hero of the Jewish people? I never actually thought about being a hero, but it might be nice. It would have to be a hobby, though, because I don’t want to give up my filmmaking career.

  Nathan slides up beside me, walking down the path to the lake in lockstep with me.

  “Hey, Noah,” he says.

  He’s wearing a loose, faded T-shirt and those big cargo shorts, with not one but three paperbacks sticking out of different pockets.

  “So I was wondering if you’ve given any thought to your Bar Mitzvah project,” he says.

  I shrug. “Not really.”

  “Okay.” He nods.

  Everyone’s chattering and laughing, jumping into different activities, climbing into rowboats and paddle boats, slapping balls over the water polo net, swinging out over the water in tree tires, whooping with glee as they belly-flop into the lake. Simon catches my eye and waves me over to the shore, where he’s climbing into a canoe.

  I glance toward Nathan, but he’s just staring with a longing expression at a group of counselors. He seems particularly interested in Janine, who looks kind of cute in her red bathing suit and white shorts. The big pair of gold-framed sunglasses resting on her head reminds me of a crown.

  I feel bad leaving him. “We’re going canoeing,” I say. “You wanna come?”

  “Me?” His big brown eyes slide over to mine. “I don’t like the sun. I burn easily.”

  “Then how do you do any activities if you don’t go in the sun?”

  “I mostly do inside activities,” he answers. “Aside from helping with pre-Bar and Bat Mitzvah consultations, I teach Not Your Parents’ Kabbalah.”

  “Oh.” I nod.

  “It’s the study of mystical Judaism,” he says. “In case you don’t know, that’s an ancient spiritual discipline that focuses on improving the world through mystical interpretations of sacred works.”

  “Oh.” I nod again.

  Huh? I think.

  “Noah!” Josh shouts. He secures his life vest and waves his arms around in big circles.

  “See?” Nathan says, showing me the cover of one of his books. It shows a shadowy drawing of an old white-haired guy.

  “This is a book about Rabbi Isaac Luria,” Nathan says happily. “He was a philosopher who lived in the sixteenth century. It’s very, very interesting.”

  It doesn’t look even a little interesting.

  “Is it?” I say, hoping that he knows I’m being kind of rhetorical and won’t answer.

  “Jewish philosophy sometimes gets a bad rap,” Nathan says, “People think it’s boring and antiquated. But that’s not true.”

  “No?” I say, glancing toward the lake, feeling the heat of the sun pounding down on my head, imagining how awesome it will feel when the cold lake water hits my skin.

  “It’s like what my dad was talking about—tikkun olam,” he continues. “Repairing the world. See, this Rabbi Isaac Luria from the sixteenth century, he kind of came up with the whole idea. They called him Ari the Lion. And there was all this stuff about divine light and shards of good and evil. It’s fascinating,” Nathan says excitedly. “But the thing is, it’s not just esoteric, out-there, like, woo-woo philosophy.” He wiggles his fingers in the air. “The basic concepts can be distilled into the simple idea of mitzvot. Doing good in everyday, real life.”

  “Oh, real life,” I nod. “I hear that. I’m a filmmaker, and I make cinéma vérité. That means ‘real life.’” I lean down and swish my hair to the side to show him my camera.

  “Hmm. Ingenious.”

  “NOAH! We’re pushing off!” Simon shouts, stepping into the boat behind the other kids. “LAST CALL!”

  “Listen, I gotta go,” I say, gesturing to the lake. “It’s time for my activity.”

  Nathan cups his hand over his eyes and squints toward the water.

  “That’s okay,” he says, looking a little deflated. “Hey, maybe for your Bar Mitzvah project, you could make a documentary covering a social issue or something,” he calls after me.

  And while I’m sprinting toward the shore, it hits me. Maybe for my Bar Mitzvah project, I could save the world.

  Chapter 12

  Canoeing for Dummies starts out awesome until Lainie from Bunk 7 rows in circles so fast that it makes Mark from Bunk 11 throw up chunks of breakfast that land on his friend, who also throws up. By this time, everyone is screaming and jumping into the lake with their clothes on.

  During Graphic Design for Kids, Mark from Bunk 11 googles “gross stuff,” which brings up sites about toe fungus, poop larvae, and even grosser stuff—until Brett, the counselor from Bunk 9, threatens to call our parents.

  Next we have soccer, where I foul out a bunch of times and trip myself once. But before I even hit the ground, Nurse Leibowitz is leaning over me, blocking out the entire sun, dabbing my knee with some smelly ointment that stings.

  After that comes water polo, where Josh gets hit in the eye with the ball, and in like two seconds, Nurse Leibowitz is back, half-marching and half-butt-sliding down the embankment.

  “Out of my way. Out of my way,” she commands even though no one is in her way. “Where’s the patient?”

  “I guess that would be me, but I’m really fi—” Josh tries to say while she takes his temperature, checks his blood pressure, and listens to his heart.

  “It’s actually just my eye.” Josh tries to squirm away. “And it’s not that big a dea—”

  “Quiet,” Nurse Leibowitz snaps, leaning in close, shining a light into his pupils.

  “It doesn’t even hur—” he starts.

  “Infirmary!” She shuts him down.

  “But—”

  “Infirmary. Now!”

  “She’s tough,” Simon whispers to me.

  “Can I at least change out of my swim—” Josh whimpers as she leads him by the arm up the embankment.

  “Later,” Nurse Leibowitz barks.

  “Help me,” Josh mouths, shooting us a pleading look over his shoulder.

  Finally, it’s Environment and You, and that’s the best. Mia’s there, sitting in the back, with Trina, Marisa, and Jyll yakking about new hair products and healthy snacks. Mia’s hair looks pretty—loose and bouncy. Every few seconds she’s like, “What?”

  And “Who?”

  And “Whaddaya mean?”

  And “Yeah, me too, totally!”

  When the counselor starts talking about plant studies and how plants have feelings, Mia gets all amped until Jyll is like, “I hope you’re not suggesting I don’t eat salads, because that is so not happening.”

  Mia looks crestfallen, so I shoot her a supportive look and go, “I like plants.”

  “You would,” Trina sneers at me, and Jyll and Marisa laugh.

  Mia doesn’t say anything for the rest of the class, even though she clears her throat a bunch of times like she’s going to say something and shifts restlessly in her seat.

  Finally, it’s time for the evening campfire roast, storytime, and sing-along.

  It’s a dark, misty kind of night, and the campfire spits and smokes, illuminating the woodsy sky with orange light. Mick Jagger runs over to me, and I feed him a piece of a tofurky hot dog. He barks appreciatively until Yipsy whistles for him.

  “New friend?” Simon asks. “Any messages tied to him?”

  I wonder when I’m gonna get another message from Sal and if the world still needs saving. I think about tikkun olam
, repairing the world, and Ari the Lion. It’s funny that saving the world was a thing even in the sixteenth century. I would have thought most people were more worried about having a place to sleep and where their next piece of matzah was coming from and whether the Cossacks were coming to kick them out of their homes.

  It hits me that maybe some people are just wired to worry about bigger things than themselves. I think about Mia and how socially conscious she is. I’m not sure if I’m wired to save the world, but think it might be cool to care about something bigger than myself.

  By the campfire, Josh and Tyler roast marshmallows and pull strings of goo from their sticks with their teeth. Simon veers off in the direction of Lily and her friends while texts ping on his phone. I’m looking for Mia when Mike Rottweiler knocks right into me.

  “Omph!” I stumble forward, causing him to splash his drink onto both of us.

  “Hey, watch it!” he erupts.

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re in my way,” he says.

  Jake sidles up to Mike. I’m frantically trying to get someone’s attention with my eyes.

  “Was that you watching us from your cabin window the other night?” Mike asks.

  “Yeah, you spying on us?” Jake adds.

  “You filming us?” Mike bites out, holding his red plastic cup halfway to his open mouth, piercing me with his gaze.

  “Um . . . no?” I say.

  “What? What do you mean, Turtle?” Mike snarls, moving close up into my grill. “Were you spying on us or not?”

  “Are you asking, or is that rhetorical?” I say.

  “You being smart?” Mike shoves me.

  Jake shoves me from the back. “Whatsa matter?” he growls, his eyes gleaming with meanness. “Where are your friends now?”

  I’m wondering the same thing as I’m being violently bounced back and forth between them. I feel like one of Mick Jagger’s toys when he grabs it by the neck, shakes it hard, tosses it across the room, pounces on it, and starts again.

  No one seems to notice what’s going on, and everyone around me is just a blur of colors and faces.

  “Yeah, no one likes a smart butt.” Jake pushes.

  “Yeah, no one.” Mike pushes. “Or a freakin’ spy.”

  “I—leave me alone—” I stammer, fighting pinpricks of tears.

  “Ooh, he’s gonna cry,” Mike sneers.

  “You gonna cry?” Jake taunts, then shoves me hard back into Mike.

  “I—” My teeth are rattling now. “I’d like not to.”

  “Spy on us again and you’ll really have something to cry about.” Mike shoves me harder.

  “And if I see your camera anywhere near us, you’ll be crying for days.” Jake slaps my head.

  Out of nowhere, Simon, Josh, and Tyler appear.

  “Leave him alone,” says Simon.

  “Yeah,” Josh says, although he’s much less convincing than Simon.

  “I’ve got this,” I say, my voice all warbly, as Jake and Mike continue to bat me around.

  “I said let him go.” Simon steps in closer.

  The Rottweilers pause. They’re big, strong, and hairy, but Simon is super athletic.

  Their eyes slide from Simon to Tyler to Josh, and there’s a hot second when I don’t know what they’re gonna do.

  “Simon is very good at soccer,” I say, taking a quick swipe at my wet cheek with my shoulder.

  Jake snorts a laugh. “Does anyone ever know what this kid is talking about?”

  Simon chest-butts up against Mike and levels a feral gaze at him.

  “Whoa, take it easy, Brit boy.” Mike backs up and lifts his palms.

  “Hey, what’s going on here?” Lily is suddenly at my side, and a little crowd is gathering around us now.

  “Oooh, now you got a girl defending you?” Mike sneers. “Hey, cute thing.”

  “Shut up, butt wipe,” Lily snaps.

  “Oh, I’m scared.” Jake pretends to shrink away.

  “Yeah, don’t hit me with your purse!” Mike laughs.

  “How about I hit you with my fist?” Lily says challengingly. “Self-defense class teaches empowerment and is a great workout.”

  Now Yipsy is pushing his way toward us, with Janine, Cooper, Sarah, and Nathan following close behind. Mick Jagger barks wildly at their heels.

  “What’s going on?” Yipsy demands.

  In the sea of faces, I spot Mia and her bunkmates.

  “Ugh, not that kid again,” Jyll sneers in my direction.

  “Let’s go.” Trina rolls her eyes. She and the other two spin on their heels. “Mia, you coming?”

  Mia chews her lip uncertainly, then follows them.

  “Everything’s fine, Yipsy,” Simon finally says.

  Yipsy looks like he’s processing this, maybe trying to figure out if we’re telling the truth.

  “We were just leaving, right, Jake?” Mike smiles sweetly at Yipsy, then brushes hard against my shoulder as he makes his way to the fire pit.

  “Okay, cool.” Yipsy bops his head up and down, looking kind of relieved. “Come on, the marshmallows are getting cold.”

  “How can marshmallows get cold?” I ask.

  The crowd starts to disperse, except for Nathan.

  “You okay, Noah?” he asks, looking shaken up.

  Before I can answer, Lily turns on me angrily. “Oh my God, Noah. What were you doing?!”

  “Nothing,” I say in a small, guilty voice.

  “They won’t bother him again.” Simon straightens and rolls his shoulders back. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lily looks skeptical. “Of course he’s fine. He’s always fine. I’m the one who’s not fine. Noah, we need to talk.”

  Mick Jagger barks, wags, and dances around Lily’s feet.

  “Ugh,” she says, trying to disengage from him. “Could you please tell your new friend to heel or something?”

  “Find Yipsy!” I command, pointing toward the flagpole.

  “Okay,” Nathan says, turns, and zips away.

  “I was talking to Mick Jagger!” I call out after him.

  Lily grabs my arm and spins me around. “How am I supposed to have any fun if you keep getting into trouble?”

  “I’m not in trouble, Lily.”

  She stares at me for a few moments while the light of the fire, like a strobe, accents a bunch of emotions streaking across her face. I can’t read her room at all.

  “Why do I bother?” she says softly, more to herself than to anyone else.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  Her expression settles into the stony, indifferent mask I know pretty well. She turns to Simon with the kind of smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

  “It was really nice of you to watch out for him,” she says.

  “We were here, too.” Josh raises his hand. Tyler nods.

  “Later,” Lily says as she flips her hair and pivots toward her friends. But not before glancing at Simon one more time.

  “What was going on with you and those Rotties?” Simon frowns at me.

  “They were creeping around the woods the other night, and they think I was spying on them,” I say.

  “Were you?” Josh asks.

  “Sort of.”

  “What were they doing?” Tyler says.

  “Don’t know.” I shrug. “But it might be something bad. And maybe,” I add, thinking aloud, “we should try and find out.”

  Chapter 13

  The next night, the mess hall sounds like a hundred buzzing bees. I find Yipsy at the counselors’ table eating a big bowl of chicken noodle soup, trying to stab a bobbing matzah ball with his spoon.

  “Hey, Noah,” he says, wiping broth from his beard, missing a few strands of noodles that hang there like worms. “What can I do for you?”

  “I want to show my opus.”

  “Hmmm.” He frowns. “I’m not following, little bro.”

  “Show my stuff,” I say.

  “Oh!” He brightens and goes to slap me f
ive, which I do, even though his fingers are slimy, because it’s awkward not to slap someone five when they offer. I explain what he needs to do and give him the thumb drive containing my opus.

  Back at the table, I’m too excited to eat. Mia’s in the corner with her bunkmates, but I can’t seem to catch her attention.

  “What’s up with you?” Simon narrows his eyes at me suspiciously. “You look like you have a secret.”

  “You’ll see,” I say, grinning.

  Lily is sitting with her friends a few seats down, but I must have activated her bro-dar because her head snaps up in my direction.

  “What kind of secret, Noah? What’s going on?” Lily puts down her fork and frowns at me.

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  “Noah,” she says in a warning tone that reminds me of Mom.

  “He’ll be okay.” Simon talks to Lily like he’s already her boyfriend, which worries me. She might like him, but she’s not that loyal. When I was little, I used to think I was important to her too.

  When we’re all done eating, Yipsy is like, “Okay, everyone, it’s time for . . .” He cups his hand behind his ear.

  Nothing.

  “Come on, I can’t hear you. It’s time for . . .”

  “Not this again.” Josh slaps his hand to his head.

  Big belches emanate from the Rottweilers’ table, followed by snorting laughter and guffaws.

  “Me!” I exclaim.

  “All right!” Yipsy smiles wide. “Noah is gonna show us his stuff. Cool!”

  “Noah.” Lily leans toward me. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably not a good idea.”

  “How do you know?” I ask. “And what do you care?”

  For a second she looks all surprised and hurt. “I care,” she says softly.

  “Yeah, right,” I say in my best sarcastic voice. Because all of a sudden, I’m feeling pretty freakin’ good.

  “Noah, come on down!” Yipsy gestures at me, wheeling a TV and an attached laptop into place.

  Mia cocks her head in my direction. Wait until she sees this!

  Someone lowers the lights, and my opus begins.

  All the images from A Life So Far flash across the screen: the aquarium, the Bigfoot hunt, the sixth-grade dance—all the most important bits from the last year. I’m nervous and excited, and it feels like time is slow and fast at the same time. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.