1. Arrival
Lying flat on the grass where the table would be, I gazed at the criss-crossed wooden slats, cornstalks, pine branches, and shafts of sunlight that composed the magical roof of the sukkah, a hut where my family would eat for the next eight days, on the festival of Sukkos, a fall celebration of the Jews wandering in the desert for forty years to receive the Torah at Mount Sinai. The eighth day would be Simchas Torah, representing the joy of receiving the Torah.
“It’s the opposite of a gas chamber,” I thought, deeply breathing in the sweet country air. Like a clubhouse, the sukkah could be easily blown over by a big wind, yet it felt so much safer than places like windowless public bathrooms, that I was always afraid would somehow fill with poison gas, especially if there was a strong smell of disinfectant. I held my breath and watched the people around me, to see if they were okay, before I took a breath. If no one was there, I’d either leave or breathe slowly.
Once, when I was in Hebrew school, I went to the bathroom, and with that sick disinfectant smell I began to feel faint, the inside of my head getting cold, my vision darkening to a pinpoint of light on the brass doorknob of the bathroom. I pulled the knob with all my strength.
This is what it felt like for them to die, I thought about my gassed relatives. I could barely pull the door...
Subscribe now to keep reading
Please enter your email to log in or create a new account.