Alana was back to being herself. Her ankle was fine. She went out for a run along Queens Boulevard. She was fine. She and Mac hopped into her car to drive to the City for Anat’s baby shower.
Alana decided Aunt Solica would host it. Anat was delivering groceries to her. The only people attending were Alana, Ann and Jen. It would be a small party. Alana’s aunt was okay having people to the penthouse. Everyone going had been tested negative for Covid-19.
Alana decided to serve fish, bagels, cheeses, falafel and hummus. She would provide red and white wine. Aunt Solica always had a bottle of Arak. So the ladies would toast with a shot or two.
Anat walked up to the building with a few grocery bags. The concierge said she could bring them up. She never happened. She always left them with him. Many times Alana was there and brought them up. She was nervous. She hoped she looked okay. She knew she was going to her once mortal enemy’s aunt’s residence.
She exited the elevator and knocked on the door. A member of the house staff opened the door. She took the bags. She was invited in. Anat gingerly waits in the hallway. The next thing she heard was the beat of the Sisters of Mercy. She thought that was strange for an old lady. But maybe Alana was there.
Seconds later the member of the house staff directed her to the living room. She was nervous. She had been doing well and hoped this wasn’t a trap. She didn’t think Alana would try to fight her again. But she was always on her guard. She entered the living room and was in tears when the ladies yelled surprise. This was the first time anyone threw her a surprise party.
Alana led everyone in a toast. Shots of Arak went down their mouths. Solica thanked Anat for always being on time with her groceries. Jen walked up and thanked her for the woman she used to abuse for helping her when Jay was attacking her and her kid. Anat smiled.
The ladies sat down to eat.
Meanwhile, Marc was posted at the building as a watchdog. His eyes scanned everything. All was quiet. Marc and Alana would probably provide security when Jerry was brought to Anat’s home in three days. Anat would be too busy to fight. But they knew she would if she had to.
Anat got some nice baby gifts. More important she got a warm feeling in her heart. She knew things would be fine when she officially became a mom.
Since the outbreak of Covid-19 much has been said about essential workers. Much should be said about the dedication they take while putting their lives at risk. I have several family members who are doctors and nurses. I have heard stories from them. A few contracted the coronavirus.
I have friends who are EMTs and members of the NYFD and NYPD.
Thank you. Everyone has gone way beyond duty. I also have a few friends who work to keep our mass transit system running. Thanks for helping us get from point A to point B. We know the risks everyone is taking.
All of these folks are essential to our everyday lives, whether it be during today’s times or before.
But are there more essential workers? Can we redefine it? Yes. Last Sunday, I was at Central Park along Museum Mile. A sign read, “I didn’t think my job was essential. But everybody thanks me every day.” That quote was from a groundskeeper. He may not be part of the official list of essential workers. We know he’s not an emergency responder or providing us with our groceries. But he is essential.
The groundskeepers are keeping NYC’s legendary park in shape. We always need our parks to be well maintained. But in today’s times, that’s paramount. For safety reasons, we need parks to be clean. We always do. Today more than ever. With all our traditional sources of entertainment shut down, our parks offer a nice respite.
In addition to parks, some of NYC’s fine museums are partially or fully open with rules in effect to keep people safe while gazing at a Paul Cézanne, Claude Monet or Camille Pissarro.
Having been through the Guggenheim, the Jewish Museum and MOMA PS 1, I can attest that’s its employees are working hard. They have provided answers to many questions from visitors and are helping to keep our city alive in many ways. They are essential.
Thanks to our musicians for your Zoom streams. Many are at no cost. We’d all rather be watching you at the Garden. But thanks for zooming. I’m glad to have been able to listen to new bands this way. Here’s to Brewester Moonface, kind of Janis Joplin sound. I discovered them in Coney Island. And the gothic Weird Wolves. Found them online. The shot of the Wolves is a streaming show. The shot of Brewster was taken at the Coney Island Brewery on January 1 after the Polar Bear Plunge. Live music in the venue with fans is essential. One day it’ll be back. Thanks for giving us hope.
Today, I did my last haircut at Astor Hair. Sadly, Covid-19 is causing the close of this NYC legend. The barbers are essential.
I know I left out many others who are essential. I apologize.
During today’s unheralded times’ many people are packing up and leaving metropolitan areas, including NYC. Why? The reasons cited are endless. Some make sense. But to quote R.E.M., “Leaving New York never easy.” I’d never.
Let’s jump back a few years. I was having a business meeting in the upper west side apartment of the “Internet Mom,” a well-known tech reporter. With a colleague, we showed off Vonage’s latest devices. Meeting ended. My co-worker and I jumped on the train in about 8 minutes we were at John’s of Times Square for pizza. She left. I went to buy tickets for “Wicked.” Hopped back on the train and in about 5 minutes I was at Astor Place for a haircut. It is so sad that today’s times are causing this NYC legend to shutter its doors in about two weeks. They hope to come back. I will be praying it happens. I was able to go to very different neighborhoods in less than 30 minutes. Where else can you do that?
One of my closest friends, a former New Yorker said, “You should leave. NY’s a piss pot.” She’s right. But it is my piss pot. And it is overflowing. In all fairness, she hasn’t lived in NYC in several decades. She’s in a beautiful city. But it is not NYC. Back to R.E.M., don’t go to her city on a bus.
Let’s jump to yesterday. The weather was perfect. No need to sit in my residence and stare at the screen. The day was made for heading up to Museum Mile to snap photos with my Nikon camera (had to quote Paul Simon) along the path of the Jackie Kennedy Onassis Reservoir. No need for a jacket. I just needed a pair of jeans, Skechers, a long-sleeved black t-shirt and my brand new authentic Mitchell & Ness Iron Horse jersey. That’s another story.
I reserved an 11:00 a.m. ticket for the Museum of the City of New York. Naturally, I arrived about an hour or so early. Perfect. I walked the reservoir and snapped away. We no longer get impressive fall foliage. But we got a little. I explored parts of the park that I rarely walked through or never did. It was wonderful. The park was quiet. We had some joggers and cyclists. A few little kids with mom and dad were walking around. And of course, a few folks were walking their dogs.
At 11, I went up to the museum. The security guards said we are closed. I said I have a ticket. He directed me to the ticket desk. She said we are closed today. If you had a ticket, we can reschedule or refund. She said it was closed due to a mechanical incident. I was thinking Covid-19. Who knows?
I was disappointed. Let the record be set, this not the first time I’ve been up there and it was closed. Before Covid-19, I went there. It was closed. They were setting up for a fundraiser. Its website said it was open regular hours. The museum is great. It has interesting timely exhibits. It has some great historical ones. Some of those are still very timely. What did I do? That day, I decided to walk over to the Guggenheim. Had a great time.
Yesterday, I did the same thing. I pulled out my iPhone and reserved an 11:30 a.m. ticket. As I was walking to it, I saw a sign on the Jewish Museum stating it had free admission until the end of 2020. I whipped out my phone and ordered an 11:15 a.m. ticket. I spent about 45 minutes there. Normally you need more time. But it was empty. For the most part, I had all the galleries to myself.
Exited around noon. I walked over to the Guggenheim to see it would honor my 11:30 ticket. I got in. A few people were milling around. It was not a typical Sunday crowd. But it had life. Good to see.
Last Sunday, I started the day off at L&B Spumoni Gardens and then headed over to Coney Island. Snapped shots of the Coney Island Polar Bears in the medicinal waters, the Cyclone, Wonder Wheel and of course, Nathan’s. Sipped a Coney Island Mermaid in the Coney Island Brewery’s outdoor seating section and headed home.
So New Yorkers, we are down. Are we out? No. It will take a while. It will be tough. But that’s what New York is made of. Let’s support our city.
Remember all the greatness of our City. We have so many firsts, i.e. Jackie Robinson breaking the color barrier in baseball. Remember Reggie’s three homers on three pitches v. Los Angeles in the World Series and Don Larsen’s perfect World Series Game? And more. Much more. While people are leaving New York, remember the Babe left Boston to come here. We are the birthplace of punk, have the best bagels, pizza and pastrami.
Other cities have their sites. But what other city has Yankee Stadium? There is no need to say anymore. But some people aren’t sports fans. Strange as it is, some don’t like the Bronx Bombers. That being said, besides, we have the Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, the Coney Island Cyclone, Lincoln Center, the South Street Seaport, the Staten Island Ferry and the best theater on Broadway that’s aching to come back. And that’s just a small snapshot of our city.
To quote a Jersey guy, Frank Sinatra, “New York, New York.”
Jerry was going home to Anat in about 10 days. She had so much work to do. She spent a fortune on clothing in Bloomingdales, Gap Baby, Lacoste and Ralph Lauren. She went to Crate & Barrel and ordered furniture for him. She had to room painted light blue. She wanted him to be a Red Sox fan. But knew she had to let him make his own choice. Of course, mom would influence him. She would still love him if he rooted for the Yankees. She decided at the beginning not to post any posters of Pedro, Yaz and others. But she found a Babe Ruth photo of him in a Red Sox uniform. She couldn’t resist. It came as a pair. It had the Bambino a Red Sox uniform and then the uniform of champions, the Yankees. She removed the Yankees photo. She would let him decide what he wanted in that slot. So much for letting him make a free choice. She would let him listen to whatever music he liked. She just hoped it wasn’t country.
She hadn’t heard anything about Jay. She has not heard at all from Alana or Marc since they went to Reno. She knew when they were coming home. She was busy. She did plan on inviting them over for dinner once she was settled with Jerry. She and Dan were getting closer. She thought of reaching out to her parents. She hasn’t spoken to them in nearly three decades.
While Anat was getting herself together to be a mom, Alana was discharged from the hospital. She wound up ok. She had a sprained ankle that was on the mend. She did many CT scans and MRIs. She didn’t have a head injury. She texted Marc.
Marc was better from his battle with Jay. He was determined to take out Jay. He has been working from home and training in the gym. Marc saw Alana’s text. His heart sank. She told him to stay home. She felt well enough to drive. She would be coming straight to him. They had much to discuss. She put herself back into planning Anat’s baby shower. Much work to do.
Candle lighting time approached in Anat’s home. Dan was coming over. Anat still lit. She did it in memory of her grandparents. She baked challah, made salmon, chicken schnitzel, rice and beans. Dan brought a lovely bottle of Kishor red. Anat loved that wine. It was produced on a kibbutz by disabled people of all ages. Money made from sales of it went to help the winemakers.
She thought long and hard as to why she was still lighting candles and preparing this meal. She wanted to believe her change and newfound happiness was a result of her devotion. But in many ways, she believed it was due to her choice to change. Coupled with the beating she took from Alana and Marc. She wasn’t 100 percent sure it was some higher being. She often wondered where he was for those with disabilities, job loss and if he was a myth.
She was mixed. She kept trying to believe. She had many moments when she’d throw it all away. She wasn’t mean. She always knew she was different. Perhaps if her parents paid attention to her she wouldn’t have been such an unusual kid. But that didn’t stop her. She still did well in many areas.
Dan walked in. She helped him lead the blessings over the wine and bread. They did a L’Chaim and settled in for dinner.
Alana went to her cousin’s in Bala Cynwyd. She had fun with Marc in Reno. Since they’ve got back they’ve both been keeping to themselves. But usually, talk. Marc hasn’t answered any of her texts or other communications. She was worried.
Shabbos started. Alana was getting tired of it. Like Marc, she did things in spurts. She always quoted Leonard Cohen, her faith was strong but she needed proof. Anyway, her cousin was less religious. She used to be frum. But walked. Alana did light candles.
Her cousin brought out a delicious meal of home baked challah and a baked Virginia ham. Alana doesn’t eat ham. She settled for the oysters. Dinner was finished and she fell asleep.
She woke up and went for a run. She had Anat’s baby shower on her mind. She wasn’t even sure why she was planning it. Anat didn’t have any friends. She and Alana were not friends. They have gone through so much together. And Alana watched Anat’s transformation from a dirtbag to a soon to be a mom. Alana still wished for a kid. But she knew it wasn’t in her plan.
She kept running. She wondered who she’d invite? She figured she would invite Ann. She was doing much better since Jay attacked her and was back at work. She even spoke to Jen, one of the people who caused Anat to go crazy. Jen was still shocked that Anat saved her from Jay a few weeks ago. She agreed to go. She even bought a gift. Alana ran harder and harder.
Meanwhile, Marc was home nursing his wounds from his fight with Jay. He went into isolation. He listened to a lot of Joy Division. He took his talit and used it to dust. Eventually, he went to an old friend from camp, who was now a physician. They kept in touch. But for some reason stopped. They were too busy. Marc walked into the office. The doc apologized profusely for not keeping in better touch. He examined Marc and sent an Rx to Walgreens for some creams to put on his wounds. He said he’d be fine in a few days. They shook hands and promised to grab a beer.
Alana kept running. She was so high. Running did that to her. She didn’t see the break in the ground. She ran right into it and fell hard. She banged her head into the pavement and passed out. EMTs arrived. She was medivaced to a trauma center.
They came to their dwellings. Nothing wrong. They are who they are. Marc woke up humming Elton John’s “Levon.” “And the New York Times said God is dead. Marc was feeling it. His internal iTunes mixed switched XTC’s “Dear God — Do you make mankind or did we make you?”
And the songs played on. Marc decided not to say any morning blessings. He decided it was time for a break. He did religion in spurts and was ready to move away. These days it did nothing for him. He just said the words. He wondered about the truthfulness of it. It all seemed like a fairy tale.
He had some cereal and headed out. As he got toward the subway he started getting battered in glass. He was being hit on all sides. Jay nailed him in the forehead. Marc ripped off his shirt to use to clot the bleeding. He took a quick breather. He started firing pomegranates. He missed. He reloaded with honey. He missed.
Alana was nowhere to be found. He texted. No answer. He reached out to Anat. No answer. He was getting slammed. This never happened.
His blood was everywhere. He ran after Jay, who was screaming something about camp. Marc had no idea what he was saying. Jay is about two years older. They weren’t in the same group. Marc was in a group that offered better programming. People were jealous. They worked hard to create the best opportunities for the kids in camp. Many people are one with the Force. Marc is. But in his group, they sought to be one with the buffalo.
Marc kicked Jay. He fell back. Jay regrouped and let loose much larger pieces of glass. Marc was down.
He needed a hospital. But kept on fighting. Jay retreated. Marc stood on the street bleeding.
Anat jogged down to the children’s center in her new black Lacoste trainers. She had the Psychedelic Furs “Heartbreak Beat” pumping into her Apple EarPods. She loves that band. Funny enough this song has special meaning to Marc. He experienced many firsts, whether they be in camp, college or elsewhere with that tune playing.
She jogged right into the front door. Ann was there. The two hugged. She asked if she was allowed to tell Jerry he was going home with her in 10 days. Ann told her to keep it quiet. She could tell him soon enough. Both of them had medical exams. Both were fine. Anat was able to hide her powers during the tests. She planned on testing Jerry. She knew about his dad’s mischievous powers. Jerry smiled and jumped into her arms. Tears fell from her eyes. Ann was leaving the center to go buy brownies for a child’s birthday party. For some reason, the bakery was usually out of them. She hoped she’d get lucky and they’d be in stock.
As she walked out Jay who had been camped out on the roof for days jumped down and knocked her onto the ground. She screamed. He punched her in the mouth. She was bleeding. A security guard heard her yells and came out. He punched Jay, who laughed. One of the center’s physicians came out and started to treat Ann.
Anat was still inside playing games with Jerry. His friends were watching. She wondered if he’d miss them. She didn’t want him to go back here. But she wanted him to still see these kids. She knew they formed a special bond. She kissed him goodbye and headed toward the exit. She saw a commotion going on out front and heard sirens. She saw Ann on the ground bleeding. She saw a security guard being beaten up. Then her eyes opened wide and she saw Jay.
As usual, she was dressed in all black. The corridor where she was standing was painted black. She clung to the wall. She opened her hands and fired raisins and dates at Jay. She hit him in the head. But he didn’t stop. He punched the security guard again. The sounds of the sirens were getting nearer. But not fast enough. Anat had no clue if it was the NYPD or EMTs. She hoped for EMTs. She could handle Jay.
No one noticed her. They were too focused on the chaos outside. She kept firing dried fruit. Jay took a step back when the giant raisin nailed him in the eye. He fired glass into the air.
Anat deflected it with prunes. She added figs into the mix. She knew she was on her own. Marc and Alana were going out to Reno to meet Marc’s best friend’s old roommate. This guy spends his time between Reno and the Bronx. Anat kept firing. She aimed for Jay’s eyes.
He was bleeding out of his mouth and nose. People started to go back into the center. She figured the cops would come to file a report. They must be on their way. Dan was off today. She didn’t want to bother him.
She looked at Jay from a distance and fired some more. She hit him in the back of his neck. He started to run.
Yesterday, I served as an NYC poll worker in Forest Hills High School, located on Ramones Way.
It was my inauguration to being an official poll worker. My experience in working elections goes way back.
I grew up on Staten Island. Nearly three decades ago, I spent many years in politics. I worked for a former NYC Council Member and mayor. I served on many winning and a few losing elections.
I am sure my readers remember the old school voting machines. I miss those. A day or two before Election Day we would go to the Staten Island NYC Board of Elections District office to inspect the machines. We went in with a bulldog of an inspector. We looked at each machine. We checked to see if the ballots were installed correctly and the machine’s levers worked. Of course, we found mistakes, which were corrected.
Jumping ahead
My dad and some of his friends served as poll workers in Plant City, Fla. I used to tease him and his festive gang. They served with pleasure. Last September, I applied to be a poll worker. I was selected to do the training course at the Queens Board of Elections office.
I arrived for my class. The other trainees and I were ushered in and seated. The trainer said we are all here for the poll worker training class, right? We said yes. She began to give out paperwork. A woman seated to the left of me got confused. She asked where she could get an absentee ballot. That is what she came for. There are signs in the building that direct you to the floor for that and to the training room. The instructor told her to go to the tenth floor. She remained seated. The class started. Several minutes into the class she again asked about an absentee ballot. She was escorted to the elevator and told to go to the tenth floor.
The class went on for about three hours. I took the test and got 100%. We are supposed to get $100 for taking the class regardless of pass or fail on the test. The caveat is you only get paid for the training class if you are selected to work the election and you work. Not fair. If I wasn’t selected, I feel I should have still gotten the $100. I agreed to work if asked. It was not I saying I would not work.
A few weeks later, I was assigned to Forest Hills High School. That’s a five-minute walk from my residence. I was happy to be placed at this poll site. I was expecting to see Sheena or Cecelia. I didn’t. But I felt sedated by the end of the day. I had to get that out. FYI — The Ramones and Simon and Garfunkel graduated from this fine institution. Captain Kangaroo and the founder of Woodstock, too.
My assignment was a scanner inspector. Over the years, in Fla., my dad was both an inspector and a deputy. He has been gone for over six years. Somewhere I have his poll worker badges. I looked around my apartment. I could not locate them. I wanted to keep them in my pocket while I worked.
Yesterday, at 5 a.m. eastern, I arrived at the poll. I went to the cafeteria and was told to stand near “scanner D.” I received the police envelope and went to work. I was only a scanner inspector for about 10 minutes. I did notice that the red police seals on my scanner didn’t match what was printed in the envelope for my scanner. People at other scanners noticed similarly. The election coordinator told us not to worry about it. During the training, we were told everything had to match.
A woman came over and said I had to leave the scanner. Someone else was going to take care of it. She gave me a bag of face shields. I was told to distribute. I did. Then I was assigned Election District (ED) 44/ Assembly District (AD) 28 as a table inspector. Two friendly women worked with me. They were in charge of scanning in voters. I gave out the ballots.
Thankfully at the table next to me was a gentleman from a shul I once attended. It was his 12th Election Day. He’s a super guy and was very helpful. I was hoping we would be working together.
The table workers got the iPads ready to scan in voters. We set up ballots and waited for the clock to strike 6 a.m. It did. Our coordinator yelled, “Polls are open.”
Working the day from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m. was a great learning experience. Including, the training, the salary is a total of $350. We must break down the day into different categories. There are many. However, ballots, how to vote, the use of an iPad, and language ability are key to hone in on.
Ballots
Queens is the most diverse of the five boroughs. So our ballots were all printed in English. Bengali, Chinese, Hindi and Korean were included on the ballots. For example, you had a ballot where the top was written in English. The bottom was written in one of the aforementioned languages. My poll place had Chinese and Korean ballots.
When we check people in we had to note on the iPad, which they received. We told people not to worry. We had one English speaking Chinese man complain he received a Korean ballot. He made us void it and asked for a Chinese one. He expressed his loud dismay over receiving the Korean ballot. We had an English speaking Chinese woman receive a Korean ballot. She looked at us. She was told she could receive a Chinese ballot. She smiled. She said, “I am fluent in Chinese, English and Korean. I don’t care.” She walked off and voted.
How to vote?
Many people had no understanding of how to vote. Here’s the trouble we encountered.
We signed in a woman. I had handed her ballot. She said, “What’s this?” I said, “your ballot.” She thought she already voted because she was signed in. We had to explain to her to fill out the ballot and place it in the scanner. This took several minutes. She still didn’t seem to get that signing in wasn’t casting her vote
One woman came in saying she speaks Spanish and kept mumbling Espanol. We had Spanish-speaking poll workers. They spoke Spanish to her. She stared at them. She had no idea what they said. She went onto say her coat color is her party. And told how us she graduated from Forest Hills High School in 1974 and has been voting there since. She was given a ballot. She had no idea what it was. A poll worker had to explain how to vote and pretty much read it to her. Then she went on to say she’s written many books and continued to mumble about her Spanish fluency
One man didn’t have his scan card. We asked him the first three letters of his first and last names. He stood there. A minute or two later he cackled out the letters. We told him to sign. He picked up the stylus and said I have to sign. He started praising the L-rd, the holy father, mother and others. Eventually, he signed in
Some didn’t understand that you can only vote for a candidate once. Many candidates were cross-endorsed by several parties. People thought they had to vote for them in each party. They were told not to before going to vote. We voided many ballots. New ones were issued
One lady asked if she could vote for anyone she wants. We said yes.
Use of an iPad
You may remember during prior years, you went to the table for your ED and signed a book and was handed your ballot. Due to Covid safety precautions, this has changed. You still went to your ED/AD table to sign in to retrieve a ballot. However, you now signed in on an iPad. The NYC BOE mailed out scan cards to registered voters. They asked you to bring them to your poll to help with sign-in.
Thankfully, many voters remembered to bring the cards. The iPads scanned the voter’s information right in. For those who forgot it or didn’t receive it, we looked people up by name. Once we found your name, you were told to take an instrument that served as a traditional pen and stylus. You were told to use the stylus section to sign your name. Your signature must match how you filled out your election registration.
Once signed your ID card signature popped up. We did many re-signings. People do change their sigs from years ago. Several weren’t on file. We had forms for that.
Here’s more of trouble we encountered.
Many people tried to use their own pen or opened the stylus pen and dug into the iPad to sign. They were instructed on how to sign
Lefties said they couldn’t properly sign. I’m a southpaw. I did it and my official signature came right up
Some people didn’t understand how to sign on a tablet. In this day and age, how could you not? When you pay by credit card in Duane-Reade, Key Food and countless other merchants you sign a tablet with a stylus. Strange
Language Ability
Many languages are heard in Forest Hills. This includes but is not limited to Chinese, Hebrew, Russian, Yiddish and even a little English. The most common language you hear is Russian. There is a growing Asian population. But right now there are more people of Russian background. There are plenty of shops on 108 Street where everything is written that way. The BOE had Chinese and Korean interpreters sitting at the front table. I did not see anyone ask for them. For the most part, the interpreters spent their day conversing in English and eating junk food.
We had a woman at my table. She asked for a Russian interpreter. None were hired. What did we do? We told the election coordinator. She asked someone to look around the room and see if they could ID Russian looking people to see if they could help this voter. She did get to vote. In a heavy Russian speaking neighborhood, why were no Russian interpreters hired? Who knows? Perhaps it was political. Perhaps it was not.
In addition to the above, we encountered several folks who were not registered but claimed they were. We had them fill out affidavit ballots. Word on the street is that those are recorded and thrown in the trash. We had people who vote elsewhere. Some should have voted in a school a few blocks away. Some should have voted in Nassau County. But they all swore Forest Hills High School was their polling place. In many cases it was their polling place a decade ago.
The clock struck 9 p.m. The last few voters shuffled in. They voted. We closed the polls and cleaned up.
There is a lot to learn from this day. We need people voting. But we need them to understand the process. The BOE has to up its game and have qualified people for the EDs it serves.
Dan was doing much better since Jay’s attack. He was back at work and everything was fine. Anat had to have child services come to inspect her residence to see if it was a suitable place for Jerry. The child services worker wanted to live there. She loved the granite kitchen, the original hardwood floors, the stainless steel Viking appliances, wine cellar and the original artwork. She had several hand-carved artsy buckets from Safed placed around her home.
The inspector said her place was fine. He even noted the three large sized bathrooms. Anat already bought a few stools to place by the sink so Jerry could wash his hands after he used the facility. She thought of everything.
Dan came over after work. Anat cooked steamed Dover sole Francese. She opened a bottle of Shiloh wine. All was well. Dan spent the night. Anat was so happy. They let the vocals of John Lydon set the mood.
This evening was much better than a few of her drunken stupors at Stanford with her occasional study buddy. That guy was now doing quite well as a hedge fund manager. As an economics major, she occasionally chatted with future Hall of Famer Mike Mussina. She even watched him pitch for the Stanford Cardinal Baseball team. The two were in many of the same classes. She always liked him.
The next morning Dan woke up and got bagels. Anat checked her email while he was at the store. She saw an encrypted email from Child Services. She typed in the password and verified it. She got Jerry. She jumped up and down. She was excited. There was some paperwork to process. But he could move in two weeks. She was so happy she started to crank Joy Division.
The doorman called to buzz up Dan. Dressed in her new black Eileen Fisher crewneck dress she waited at the elevator’s door. She jumped on top of him as he exited. Dan suspected she got the great news by her excitement. She smiled and kept kissing him. She then told him about the email. He was happy. They walked into her eat-in-kitchen. Anat had coffee and juice waiting. Dan loved his coffee. Anat couldn’t stand it. They finished breakfast. Dan went to the precinct. Anat went to the child services center. Jay was waiting on the roof.
It was a perfect fall day at Central Park’s Great Lawn. Alana arrived very early. She staked out her ground. She put blue and pink blankets six feet apart. Tzipora didn’t find out the sex of her baby. She wanted to be surprised. Didn’t make a difference for gifts. These days most people just gave Amazon gift cards for everything. Therefore, she could buy whatever she wanted when the kid came. She and Eran already chose names. He was all for the surprise, too. No arguments from him.
Stacey was helping Alana. Stacey was still seeing the guy she met a few months ago. She was happy. The ladies assembled on the lawn. Eran and Tzipora walked by the Great Lawn as she walked by she heard the ladies call her name. She stopped so fast she almost tripped over her own two feet. She started blushing. Eran kissed her and said he’d be back later. Trizpora marched over to the center pink and blue blanket and sat down.
Alana brought out the picnic baskets. Hummus and falafel were served with fresh-squeezed juices. There were fruit platters. They even included dates, apricots and raisins. Alana asked Anat about those. The Bumpboxx was playing a mix of Israeli music, Joy Division, Television, the Ramones and Ultravox. All were smiling.
Marc was perched up in a tree. Alana is the only one who knew he was there. He was ready to be a sniper or jump down and attack Jay if the occasion arose.
The ladies told old stories about Tzipora and were so excited she was about to enter motherhood. As usual, Alana was depressed. But she smiled. She knew she’d never have a kid. She was even hoping that Anat got Jerry. Things were looking good in that direction.
Alana knew her mission was to provide protection and be with Marc. The two of them haven’t fought each other for so long. We know how close they are. We‘ve witnessed several of their fights. But those seem to be done. The two couldn’t be closer.
Alana went to the cooler in her car and brought out the baby-shaped ice cream cake. She cut it up and put it on top of brownies. She served coffee and tea. She had plenty of milk for those who took their beverages with it.
All was still quiet.
Jay was lurking around the Central Park Boathouse. He was wounded from his fight with Anat, Marc and Alana. But was getting ready for an attack.
Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc. 