CHAPTER 7
Abra desperately needed to talk to Miss Benjamin after the funeral, but she didn’t want to call her from Charleston because she needed the privacy of her apartment where she could talk freely. It was too late to call her Sunday night when she got back so as soon as she got home from shopping on Monday, she dialed her number. When she heard Miss Benjamin’s voice, she knew she was in her safe zone. “Miss B., did you hear about Rachel?”
“Yes. I saw it in the paper and Adam called to tell me in case I didn’t know about it. I called you, but I didn’t leave a message because I remembered that you were in Charleston. I was waiting for your call tonight to tell you.”
“Do you know any specifics?”
“No. Just what I read in the paper. But Adam is trying to see if he can get details.”
“I can’t believe the way I found out. On Wednesday, when I was at National waiting for my flight to Charleston, I went to get a paper and my eye was attracted to the picture of her in the Post. I knew right away it was Rachel, even before I read the article. I don’t know how I knew. Just think, if I hadn’t gone to get a paper I wouldn’t have found out until I talked to you tonight.
When I saw the picture, I changed my plans and flew to New York. I spied on the funeral. I sat in a Starbucks across from the funeral home and got a glimpse of all of them. Jacob is grayer and heavier and even more bent over. Miriam was in a wheelchair and covered with a black veil, like something out of an Italian wake. Noah changed, he’s not so skinny. I didn’t get a real feel for any of them. I saw them for less than a minute before and after the funeral. What a media circus! This story will be around for awhile. They’re going to have more than their 15 minutes of fame”
“Oh, it’ll be around for a long time. We’ll see Jacob and Miriam on TV and anybody else who is remotely involved with them. I’m sure they’ll be on Larry King. Did you stay overnight when you came?”
“Yeah. I stayed at the Marriott. I didn’t call you. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I think I’m ready to talk now. I really need you right now.”
When Abra uttered these words, “I need you,” Miss Benjamin’s heart fluttered. This was the only person in the world who needed her and she would do anything to help her.
“I’ll come up and see you probably week after next. I have so much to catch up on at work.”
It turned out that the middle of October was the first opportunity Abra had to go to New York. She was busier than usual with a major crises at school, a second grader lost both his parents in an automobile crash. He was taken out of school by his grandparents and was going to live with them in Florida. The boy’s teacher informed his classmates that the boy’s parents had died. Abra and two psychologists from other schools held grief counseling sessions with groups of children. Practically all the kids verbalized their fears that their parents would die in a car crash. Abra sent letters home to the parents telling them how to discuss their fears with their children and offering to meet with individuals or groups. Abra and the other psychologists provided individual counseling to kids who needed it. Some kids didn’t want to drive in cars or even on the school bus. With all that was going on in school, Abra had no time to think of Rachel. Her attention was devoted to the pain and fears of the kids at Black’s Run Elementary.
Abra arranged to leave school early to make the 3:30 Amtrak train from Union Station in Washington to Penn Station in New York. She loved traveling by train. It was so much more civilized than flying. No waiting in long lines in her bare feet. No watching 80 year old ladies being searched for explosives when all they hid were titanium knee replacements. Not being squashed into narrow seats with her long legs cramped up to avoid skinning her knees on the seat in front of her. She recalled the excitement of her first plane trip, but the excitement lessened with each subsequent trip until 9/11. Then flying stopped being flying and became mass movement of humans, more like movement of cattle in freight cars.
After boarding the train, she found a seat by a window so she could watch the East Coast corridor rush by. She morbidly enjoyed seeing the crumbling cities that could only be viewed from trains. You couldn’t walk or drive in these neighbors, not if you were a white woman, a woman, a white, or a black that was not part of the inner city world.
She ate a sandwich and sipped a glass of wine while she let every muscle in her body go lax. She was going home to her only family, her Miss B, and to her only home, the spacious 11th floor apartment on Riverside Drive overlooking Riverside Park. She had visited Miss B monthly when she was in high school and then during vacations in college. She rarely got to see her when she was in grad school, but once she moved to Fairfax, she tried to visit her every other month. She had grown to love Miss B’s New York, and of course, with time she had grown to love Miss B more realizing how much she had done for her.
Abra sank into reverie and recalled how Miss B. became her family. The first time she saw Miss Benjamin was the first day of high school. Miss Benjamin was her advanced freshman English teacher. This short, plump, unattractive lady eagerly welcomed the class and told them that they were going to have an adventure of the mind. As she reviewed the syllabus, she glowed with the excitement about their joint learning venture. They were going to read about the world and they were going to learn to write about the creative ideas in their heads. “Can you think of anything more exciting?” Some of the kids groaned, but Abra was thrilled. This was the birth of her love of learning.
As Miss B reviewed the course assignments, some the students complained that there was too much work. Abra didn’t complain. The more opportunities for her to use her outstanding language skills, the better. The more her mind could be challenged, the happier she felt. After that first class, Abra didn’t notice Miss Benjamin’s appearance. She looked at her as if she were a demi-god. She never really looked at any of her teachers as people with lives, loves, fears, and wants. They were just dispensers of knowledge and positive reinforcement. Occasionally, she would notice a teacher’s clothes, especially the polyesters they seemed to favor before they became retro.
After Abra wrote her first paper, Miss Benjamin asked to meet with her. “Abra, this is one of the best papers I have ever received from a freshman.” This one sentence sent Abra soaring into a dream world where anything was possible. This spurred Abra to produce many papers and stories which she gave to Miss Benjamin for critiquing. They met every Tuesday after school to go over her work. Abra couldn’t get enough of Miss Benjamin’s praise. No one had ever talked about her talents before. In earlier grades, her teachers gave her the highest grades, smiley faces, and kind words, but no one was as effusive as Miss Benjamin. This confirmed Abra’s belief that she could use her mind as the means of escaping from the Ginzberg jail and make a new life for herself. Miss Benjamin made it possible for her to dream. She fed the fires of Abra’s fantasies of living in a modern penthouse apartment by herself, wearing beautiful suits to work and evening dresses to fancy dinners, and working in a Manhattan office. She wasn’t sure what she would do, but that didn’t matter. For the first time, she allowed herself to dream of a future with no Ginzbergs.
At one of their after school meetings, Miss Benjamin asked Abra about her family. As usual, Abra was evasive. She was just starting to lay the foundation for the privacy wall around her family. Miss Benjamin sensed that this was a taboo subject for discussion and didn’t broach it again. They developed an unspoken understanding about Abra’s family. Abra knew that Miss Benjamin had learned the basic facts about the family from her records and teacher gossip, but they spoke little about the specifics of her daily hell. Occasionally, Abra would allude to having to stay home to care for Rachel who was sick or having to go home early for a social worker’s visit or to go food shopping. She shared enough information for Miss Benjamin to know the never-ending demands made on Abra to run the Ginzberg household. Once, without Abra’s knowledge, Miss Benjamin drove by Abra’s house to see where she lived. She saw the crowded squalor of the building b
locking out whatever sunlight might be trying to reach the ground. She got access to Abra’s school files which described her parents’ status and her siblings’ educational needs. By the end of Abra’s senior year, Miss Benjamin knew all about Abra’s life, even the sordid everyday details. The more she knew about Abra, the more she loved her and the more she wanted to help her escape. Abra needed support and guidance, but more importantly she needed love. Miss B was there to give her all three.
Abra got all A’s her freshman year. Miss Benjamin told her that she would have given her an A+ if possible. During the next year, Abra dropped into Miss Benjamin’s classroom every Tuesday after school for their conversations about her writing, her readings, and life in general. Then Miss Benjamin invited Abra to her home for a Sunday brunch. That was the start of their life-long love affair.
Miss Benjamin lived in an eleventh floor apartment on Riverside Avenue on Manhattan’s upper west side. It was a “classy” building with a doorman, a spacious tiled entryway, and an elevator operator. It was filled with rich, old, well-educated Jews. Miss Benjamin. had grown up in the apartment and lived there with her parents until their deaths. Afterwards, she continued to live in the apartment without changing a thing.
The apartment looked like something out of a 1950’s movie. There was heavily-upholstered furniture, velour drapery, oriental rugs, and lots of antiques and fragile pieces. Abra moved gingerly whenever she walked near any of these for fear that she would trip and break something of personal or financial value. She never touched any of these fragile pieces lest her mere touch shatter them. Miss Benjamin’s father had been a successful lawyer and the apartment reflected the wealth he had accumulated. The apartment even had a library with over a thousand books. Abra would stand in awe at the doorway of the library. She never imagined that people had libraries in their homes. Libraries were in schools or buildings where you had to present your library card to gain access to the paper treasures. Abra loved randomly plucking a book from a shelf and immersing herself in it. She would nestle in a leather wing chair while burying herself in the words. Miss Benjamin encouraged her to borrow books, but Abra feared for what would happen to them in the Ginzberg household. They might be torn or puked on or stepped on, but certainly they would be damaged. There was no respect for books in the Ginzberg house.
The apartment was immaculately clean thanks to a maid who came to clean four hours every morning. The maid, a black lady named Minerva, had worked for the Benjamin family for 20 years. Abra loved the neatness and cleanliness of Miss Benjamin’s place. It made her feel clean. It made her feel as if she had just stepped out of a luxurious bubble bath in an oversized tub and was toweling off with a plush white towel followed by a massage with magnolia scented body cream.
During the last three years of high school, Abra brunched at Miss Benjamin’s apartment once a month. Often Miss Benjamin’s family would join them. Her brother, Seymour, was a lawyer who was carrying on his father’s law practice. His wife, Arlene, was the stereotypical Jewish lawyer’s wife with carefully coiffed, highly teased hair dyed a shade of orange that did not exist in nature and lots of diamonds weighing down her ears, neck, and fingers. She was a professional volunteer serving on the boards of several hospitals and Jewish charities. She was the proverbial Jewish mother always encouraging everyone to eat their vegetables and to bundle up when they went out in the cold. She was always friendly and warm to Abra.
Their only child, Adam, was three years younger than Abra. He was quiet so it was hard to tell that he was intellectually gifted. Abra knew that he had a crush on her because she would find him peeking at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. His expression was much like that of a child receiving a puppy as a gift, pure joy at seeing a thing of beauty.
Miss Benjamin, Seymour, and Adam looked alike. They were short and stocky. They were fireplugs. Miss Benjamin and her brother had fat faces with jowls and brown spots. Someday Adam, too, might sprout jowls and spots, but right now he was a chubby kid with pale white skin and a thick head of straight black, greasy hair. Abra was sure he washed it regularly but it still exuded a sheen of oil.
Miss Benjamin had never married. She knew that she was the proverbial old maid. She hadn’t married, not because she was gay, but because she was the type of woman men did not find attractive. Furthermore, she was afraid of men. She would have loved to have married and have kids, but she long ago resigned herself to the realization that that would never happen. If she had lived in more contemporary times when a single woman could adopt a child, she would have done so. She had so much maternal love in her heart and the only one who was around to get it was lucky Abra.
Miss Benjamin was content with herself. She had a remarkable self concept, she understood who she was and she liked who she was. Abra was sure that was a result of her parents who had loved and admired her. They had laid the foundation for her healthy emotional development. The way she saw herself was reflective of how her parents saw her and not how the outside world viewed her. To her parents, she had been loving, smart, and good-hearted, everything they wanted in a daughter. To the outside world, she was smart and unattractive.
She had a group of women friends with whom she went to the theatre, museums, and concerts. The group had season tickets to the Met and always lunched at an exclusive restaurant before going to a Saturday matinee of Tosca or Madame Butterfly. Miss Benjamin liked her life, especially once Abra entered it.
Miss Benjamin’s parents had died and left her a hefty inheritance so she had the wealth to appreciate living in New York City. Not having to rely on just a teacher’s salary, she was able to travel to Europe or Asia every summer. She did not use her wealth on clothes or material possessions for herself. She just wasn’t interested in things. Her students never suspected she lived a life of affluence when she wasn’t with them. They often judged wealth on the basis of clothes and a car. Miss B’s wore non-descript clothes and she drove a Volvo which she traded in every seven years. They could never have imagined Miss Benjamin living as she did. Although Miss Benjamin got along with her colleagues, she didn’t socialize with them outside of school. Her lady friends came from her synagogue and her classmates at the Ethical Culture School and Barnard.
During the family meals that Abra shared with the Benjamin family, she had her first glimpse of a happy family. This was certainly not a “typical” happy family. This was a brilliant, rich, unattractive family. It was obvious that everyone loved and respected each other. They spoke to each other with a gentleness that Abra had never experienced or imagined. They carefully listened to each other’s statements and mulled over their responses. But mostly, they laughed. They laughed at the corny jokes Seymour told, TV programs or movies they had seen, and funny life experiences. There were always jowls bobbing up and down at Miss Benjamin’s dining room table. When they looked at each other, they smiled and visibly took joy in each other. They also were physically affectionate. When they came into the apartment, everyone got a tight hug, including Abra. When they left, the hugs were repeated. There were coming-in hugs and going-out hugs. Adam would kiss Miss Benjamin, but only give Abra a muted hi with averted eyes. The adults smiled knowingly at his visible crush.
Miss Benjamin introduced Abra to culture. Other than school and TV, Abra lived in a vacuum. Miss Benjamin took her to shows, concerts, and museums. They always went during the day because Abra couldn’t be away at night. They would go on Saturdays or Sundays when Abra’s grandparents could stay with the family. Someone “normal” always had to be on call in the house to see to Jacob, Miriam, Rachel, and Noah. They couldn’t be left unsupervised. They were all children who could get into unforeseen trouble. They might find matches and set a fire, they might open the door and leave, or they might start hitting each other and not stop.
She knew that her family didn’t like her being away, but she ignored their objections. She made sure there was enough food for everyone before she walked out the door. She left detailed dire
ctions for her grandparents on any specials, like the times for giving Noah salve for his unknown rash. They never asked her about what she did when she was away from them. Nor did they ask her who she was with. She could have been with a child molester or a serial killer, and they wouldn’t have known. When she got back from her outings, they would talk about their needs and what she had to do because she had been away. She suspected that they knew she was seeing the outside world that they would never know. They were afraid that this was the beginning of her leaving them and they were overwhelmed with dread.
At the end of her junior year Abra started talking about college. She shared her desire to leave New York with Miss Benjamin. When Miss Benjamin showed support for this idea, she told her that her family wanted her to stay in New York so that she could continue to help out at home. Miss Benjamin told her that she would find a way to help Abra go to a college out of New York. Abra was dumbfounded. How could she do this? Miss Benjamin explained how she would find potential colleges that would fit her needs. The two spent hours poring over Peterson’s Guide to Colleges and college websites. When Miss Benjamin hit upon Jackson College, she knew it would be a perfect match for Abra, and she was right.
Some of the Abra’s classmates at York wondered about her relationship with Miss Benjamin. When they asked Abra about it, she told them that she was her mentor and was helping her with her writing and finding a college. She didn’t tell them that she found someone she could trust, someone who was helping her become a competent person who would be able to function in the outside world, someone who was becoming her conspirator in escaping from Queens and the Ginzberg family, and someone she was growing to love. They could never suspect that Abra and Miss Benjamin were molding the foundation for their unique mother-child relationship.
Seymour also wondered about his sister’s relationship with Abra. One day while they were at his summer place at Montauk, he asked “Edith, do you think it’s healthy for you to be so close with Abra?”
“Oh Seymour, it’s not only healthy, it’s life sustaining for me. She’s the daughter I’ll never have. She’s smart and talented and beautiful and kind. She’s everything I would want if I could custom design a daughter. Seymour, I have so much love pent up in me and I’m giving it to Abra. I have to be careful. I can’t overwhelm her with it or let her know the depths of my feelings. She’s strong to be able to survive in that miserable home, but at the same time she’s fragile. She doesn’t really know what family love is. She certainly doesn’t know what motherly love is. I don’t think she realizes that I know all about her family. The social worker and the principal at the school know all the ugly details of how she lives. They shared them with me because they know I’m fond of her.”
Abra was jolted out of her reverie by the darkness in the tunnel approaching Penn Station. She was in New York City which was thousands of miles from Queens. She hurried through Penn Station so she wouldn’t have to look at the homeless people holding up the walls. She took a cab to Miss Benjamin’s apartment and soaked in the sights of the suicidal pedestrians daring the cars to hit them and the street vendors selling authentic copies of designer goods.
When she arrived at Miss Benjamin’s stately building, she was helped out of the cab by the doorman, Murray. He had been opening doors since she first visited Miss Benjamin 20 years ago. He greeted her with his wide smile, “Abra, it’s so good to see you again. You’re as gorgeous as ever. I’m sure Miss Benjamin will be so happy to see you.”
“I can’t wait to see her and I’m so happy to see you again, Murray. You never change. Handsome as ever.”
She walked over the sparkling black and white tiled floor to the elevator. She always felt as if she were skating on ice when she walked on these tiles. Wilson was still taking people up and down in the elevator even though the elevator could be operated automatically. He, too, gave Abra a wide grin and a warm greeting. Without her telling him the floor, he whizzed her up to the 11th floor.
Murray had rung Miss Benjamin’s intercom to let her know that Abra was coming so she was standing in the open doorway with her arms out. Abra dropped her purse and bag and grabbed little Miss B around the neck. She squeezed her tightly as she sobbed. Miss B gently patted her back as she silently cried and said, “You’ll be alright now. We’ll talk.”
After a minute, Abra let go and said, “I have to go to the john. I’m bursting. I didn’t want to use the john at Penn Station. The resident clientele there is shadier than ever.”
She went to the guest room she always used. It was her room. She was the only overnight guest that Miss B ever had. After a heavy pee, she sat on the closed commode and placed a cool wet washcloth on her face and released the tension through the washcloth. She had lived in several apartments since college, but this was the only place that felt like home.
She found Miss B in the kitchen. “Did you eat?’
“Yeah. I had a sandwich on the train. It hit the spot. But I could use some tea and cake.” Although she preferred coffee, she knew that Miss B was an avid tea drinker and so she always had tea at her home.
“How did you know that I had some of your favorite Fortnum and Mason Earl Gray and apple coffee cake?”
Abra unwound by telling Miss B about the child whose parents had died and what the school was doing in response to the crisis. When she was talked out, she said, “Miss B, do you mind if we talk about Rachel tomorrow? I just want to relax and unwind first. OK?”
They sat in the living room and watched Jay Leno until they both fell asleep on the couch. Miss Benjamin nudged Abra and said, “We’d better go to bed now.”
The next morning she slept until 8 AM. She couldn’t believe that she had slept so late. This was like sleeping till noon for anyone else. Still wearing her sleep sweats, she went out to greet Miss Benjamin who had been up for two hours. She had coffee and fresh bagels waiting. She probably had one of the building staff run over to the bagel bakery on Broadway to get bagels fresh from the oven. New York bagels were a unique delicacy to Abra. No other city could duplicate the perfection of the bagels created in New York bakery ovens.
After breakfast, Abra showered and then spent a while browsing in the library. Now she could take books home without worrying that they would be destroyed. She brought Bellow’s Humboldt’s Gift out to Miss Benjamin. “Miss Librarian, I’ve never read this. Can I check it out?”
Miss Benjamin smiled and responded, “Only if you bring it back in two weeks. Let me stamp your card.”
The weather was beautiful so they decided to walk in Central Park and took a cab to 59th Street. Miss Benjamin said, “Abra, have you ever taken a horse and buggy ride through the park?”
“No. I don’t want to do that,” she said insincerely. “Everybody will think we’re tourists.”
“Well I want to be a tourist today.” Miss Benjamin led Abra to the line of horses and said, “Pick one.”
Abra looked at the horses and buggies lined up for inspection. They all looked alike except for the flowers draped around the necks of the horses. The horses and the drivers looked bored, but a white horse looked at her as if beckoning her to pick him, and she knew he was the one. “How about the white one with the red flowers around his neck?”
Miss Benjamin paid the driver and they started off through the park as they were enveloped by the lush trees that were just starting to turn brown and red. The leisurely amble of the horse allowed them to look at the joggers, tourists, families, and everyone else luxuriating in the warmth and beauty of the day.
Abra looked up at the cloudless sky and said, “Do you think there’s a heaven? If so, I think Rachel is probably there. God must have different criteria for letting special people in. At least, I hope so. He must take their travails into consideration. He creates them with all these problems and makes up for his cruelty by giving them a free pass to heaven.
I hope He looks at Rachel with pity. She had to live with her disability, but she also had to survive without the
one person she loved most. Me. What must it have been like for her that day in August when I left? Remember you asked me about it when I got in the car and I said I didn’t want to talk about it. Well, let me tell you about it now. I’m only 16 years late in answering your question.
It was like a scene out of Dante’s Inferno. Over the few days before I left, I had shopped to store as much food and supplies as possible. I sorta prepared them for a nuclear attack. They were going to be in their underground bunker with enough food and soap and shampoo for a century. I talked with my grandparents and told them what they would have to do, but they didn’t want to talk. They said, ‘We’ll get by. Don’t worry.’ They also kept asking why I was going so far away. ‘Abra, it’s not too late to change your mind and stay here and go to Queens College. You could go anyplace with your grades. You could go to NYU. Why do you have to go so far away? Why do you have to go with all the goyim in the South?’ I didn’t answer any of their questions. At night, after everyone was asleep I packed and hid the suitcases under my bed and in the back of my closet so the kids wouldn’t ask me what these were.
Remember you asked me if I wanted you to talk to my parents and explain to them why I wanted to go away to college. What a scene that would have been. They probably would have blamed you for taking me away, which is true. You did take me away. They would have been so angry at you. I don’t know what they would have done. There would have been lots of screaming, and maybe some violence. The only time I’ve witnessed violence in person was in that house. They never hit me, but they did hit Rachel and Noah when they wouldn’t behave and, of course, the hitting led to more misbehavior and screaming. Rachel cried and Miriam hit her on the back or the leg, never the face. She didn’t want to leave any visible evidence. She wasn’t that retarded. She’d holler at Rachel, ‘Shut up. I don’t want to hear your crying.’ Then Rachel would cry more because Miriam hit her. It was this endless cycle. I stopped it by dragging Rachel into her bedroom.
As Rachel and Noah got older, they hit back and there were these brawls between Miriam and the kids. Everyone screamed and cried and struck out, except me. I was the peacemaker. I dragged the kids into their room and calmed them which wasn’t easy. Sometimes it would take me hours to settle them down. It’s a miracle the neighbors never called the police with all that noise.
I was a nervous wreck the weeks before I left. I kept thinking that something would happen to stop me from leaving. You were away in Italy right before I left so I had no one to talk to. Every time one of the kids sneezed, I was sure they were coming down with the plague and I wouldn’t be able to leave. I tried to avoid talking to my parents and grandparents. When they initiated any conversation about college, I would clam up. This would make my parents mad and they would yell at me. Miriam became especially vicious. She would scream ‘I hate you, you ungrateful bitch. Look what we’ve done for you and now you’re leaving. What kind of person are you?’ Here was Miriam who rarely spoke to me over the last 18 years now screaming at me and telling me that they had done things for me. She had done absolutely nothing for me. I was the one who had done everything for her and the family. She used the vilest profanities with me, words that I would never speak to another human being. It took everything I could muster to keep my mouth shut. I’d mentally tell myself over and over to control myself. I never exploded maybe because I was afraid of the hurtful things I might say or because Miriam might turn her violence on me. When they started these screaming rampages, I’d ignore them or leave the room. But mostly I’d get out of the apartment. I’d walk around the neighborhood for hours. How I learned to hate them those last few weeks. The way they acted just confirmed that I was doing the right thing.
Miss Benjamin asked, “I’ve always wondered about your grandparents. Where were they in all of this?”
“They were scared and didn’t know what to do. They were these little people who make up the world, who just want to hide safely in their corner. They want to eat the same food, go to the same places, watch the same TV programs. They want the world to stay the same. My going away was changing things drastically and they would have to do things they didn’t want to. They were just simple people who were overwhelmed with the situation. I also think they hated Miriam. They rarely spoke to her. They loved their Jacob and kept saying what a shame he had a bad back and couldn’t work. He was such a wonderful worker. For God’s sake, he loaded newspapers on trucks. Not the greatest job in the world. Not a rocket scientist. At first they were helpful with the kids, but as they got older and more difficult to manage, they didn’t know what to do. I think they were afraid of them. Remember Rachel and Noah weren’t the sweet, simple type of retarded individuals. Much of the time they were angry, violent, and hard to manage. The population of the retarded is like the population of normals. Some of them are sweet and angelic and some are a little sweet and a little sour and some, like my sibs, were angry, mean, and hard to love or even like. But they loved me and I loved them. But more than love, I pitied them. I asked God. Why? Why did He give these innocents such a cruel mother and such a hard life?”
When Abra stopped for a breath, Miss Benjamin said, “Remember you told me that you didn’t want to know anything about what was happened after you left for school – good or bad – you didn’t want to know. I found out from your grandparents and sources I had in the schools. Soon after you left, the kids were placed in a foster home that specialized in kids with disabilities. The social worker found that your parents couldn’t care for their basic needs. They couldn’t cook or wash them or walk them downstairs to the bus. So the system came to their rescue. They couldn’t have left them with your parents who could hardly care for themselves, let alone the kids. Fortunately, the system saw that your grandparents couldn’t handle them either so they took over which in the last analysis was the best thing for their welfare. They were in a good home that did a better job of meeting their basic needs than you did. But of course, they couldn’t give them what you could – love. After the kids left school at 21, they were put in group homes. I don’t know why they were separated and put in different homes. I would think they would have wanted to keep them together, but I don’t know.”
Abra said, “Thanks for not telling me. I had to make a complete break and knowing anything that went on would have been horrible. It might have pulled me back. It certainly would have filled me with more guilt and I had enough guilt to last a lifetime.”
“Although your grandparents helped out, social services provided help to your parents after the kids were taken away. A nurse came in weekly to help with Miriam and Jacob’s health needs and then there was a home aide who came in a few hours a day to help with cooking and cleaning them and even cleaning the apartment. It was probably in better shape than when you did the cleaning”
“How do you know all this?”
“I tried to keep in contact with your grandparents so I got this from them. Your grandparents hated me and didn’t really want to talk to me. They blamed me for stealing you from them. They were angry that you wouldn’t be there to take care of the family after they died, but I also think they were concerned about your welfare. They once asked me if it was possible that you could be sold into white slavery. I tried not to laugh, but it showed me their lack of understanding of the world and their fear of the world. I also got some information about what happened to Rachel and Noah from the special ed teachers at school.”
Abra turned sideways to look into Miss Benjamin’s eyes and said, “Let me tell you about that awful day when I left for school. You were picking me up at 7 so at 6:45 I took out my suitcases and put them outside the front door. I spoke to Jacob and Miriam and told them that I would call them and let them know how things were going. Miriam glared at me with hatred and screamed, ‘I don’t want to ever hear from you, you fucking bitch. Get out of here and don’t let me see your shitface again. Everything is for Abra. Nothing for this family. Selfish bitch. Selfish bitch.’ This was why I never spoke to Miriam.
I knew any words I spoke would provoke hateful attacks. The screaming brought Rachel and Noah out of their beds. They cried hysterically, knowing something terrible was happening. I hugged Rachel and said, ‘Good bye. Take care of yourself and be a good girl.’ Rachel wouldn’t let go of me. She clung to me as if her life depended on me, and it did. I told my zayde to take Rachel. He tried to take her, but she struck out at him. She swatted his glasses off. He pinned her arms to her sides and yelled, “Jacob, help me with her.”
It looked like a mini-riot. I ran out the door without saying good-bye to Noah or my grandparents. I had to escape the screaming and hitting. That’s why I was in the state I was in when you picked me up. That was why I couldn’t talk.
I’ve wondered what happened that day after I left. Rachel must have howled uncontrollably for hours. How did they calm her? Maybe, they never really calmed her. I think she probably missed me for the rest of her life. Maybe that’s why she yelled A-B when she was running through the park. I’ve tried not to think of how she and Noah felt, but I have to now. Saying that I was going away to college had no meaning for them. You were either there or not there. And I wasn’t there ever again. I wonder who calmed them and held them. Do you think maybe Jacob? Certainly not Miriam. During the day when they were there Bubby and Zayde probably tried, but physical nurturing wasn’t part of them. A quick juicy kiss was all they ever gave.”
After the buggy ride, they walked to a deli on 57th Street. Miss Benjamin ordered a pastrami on rye with a side of cole slaw and Abra ordered a salad even though she was at the mecca of delicious deli food. Her one concession to being in a Jewish deli was ordering a can of diet Dr. Brown cream soda.
After they settled into eating their food, Miss B turned the conversation back to Abra’s family. “Abra, you were in a situation where you had to save yourself. Rationally, you know that you had to leave or you would have not lived the life you wanted. You weren’t Mother Theresa. You were a bright girl who wanted to live life and not just exist. I have always thought you did the bravest thing in the world. Most people would do what was expected of them. They would take the easy way out and stay. You took the hard way and made a life for yourself, with no one to help.”
“What do you mean no one to help? Do you think I could have done anything without you?”
“I hope you’re right. I so wanted to be a mother to you.”
“You were and are.”
Miss Benjamin looked down as she silently cried tears of joy.
Suddenly Abra noticed that Miss Benjamin didn’t look well. Her skin was ashen and although her face was still jowly, it was drawn. “Miss B, I have been so focused on myself, I didn’t ask how you’re feeling.”
Miss Benjamin had retired from teaching the year before and immediately began having health problems. She developed diabetes and high blood pressure. She was 61 and felt 101.
“I’m ok although I’m still having trouble stabilizing my blood pressure despite taking 10 horse tablets a day.”
They took a cab back to the apartment so Miss Benjamin could rest. Then they went to a late afternoon foreign film at a nearby art theatre. They were a bit embarrassed at their joint viewing of explicit sex scenes with nude males. Alone, neither of them would have been bothered, but watching it with someone who was like your mother or daughter mad them cringe, but also laugh at their embarrassment.
Before Abra left, they decided that she would try to come up for several days during Abra’s Christmas vacation and Miss Benjamin would get tickets for a Broadway show. Before she left the apartment, Abra took Miss Benjamin’s hands in hers and looked deeply in her eyes, “How many different times and ways can I say thank you for giving me a life. I love you so please take care of yourself. I need you to live to be 100.”
Dirty Genes Page 7
