Date: Tue, 27 Feb 2018 09:05:58 +0100 (CET)
From: john.matthews@tutanota.com
Subject: Noah and Mariu Part 2

Dave 2

All good things have an end.  That's the way of it.  So Sunday evening
crashed in upon us like an unwelcome, but inevitable visitor.

I was so sad to leave Dave.  It just about broke my heart.  He reminded me
he lived two minutes away and he had a phone.  I was 12 nearly, (well,
going on for...) and I wanted everything NOW.  Patience was not my strong
suit.  Dave actually carried me home.  I hung onto him like a limpet.  When
we got to my door he whispered that we have to be cool, or there could be
problems.  We cranked inside and I rushed into the living room where most
everyone congregated on Sunday evening, and shouted "Dave got it all
right... no mistakes. YAY!"

Mumma took this as personal vindication.

"Bubele Davko, mayn schatz, mayn shayne schatz!"  She gave him motherly,
slobby kisses.  He looked shocked.  I giggled.

Mumma turned to me with a glint in her eye that meant I shouldn't have
giggled.  "And you have done what?  Taught him a couple of tunes he could
easily have learned by himself and made yourself a nuisance to him – and
what's more..."

"I'm sorry to interrupt Aunty Rivka..."

Mumma stopped in full flight.  A phenomenon that had not happened in our
house since Adam was a boy.  Mumma stared open-mouthed at Dave.  I moved in
to protect him.  I noticed my father notice.

"It would have been impossible without Noah, and that's for sure."

Dave put his arm around my shoulders.  He looked at my mother fearlessly.
I heard a chuckle from my father.

"Well Rivka, he wants to be a crim defence lawyer, and I think he has the
balls for it.  He's passed his first test – David v. Mrs Goliath."

I couldn't believe my dad had said that.  I pushed myself closer to Dave.
My mother stared open-mouthed at my father and sat down with a plop in a
big overstuffed armchair.

"The men in this house are getting too mouthy... and I include you in the
men, David Klein.  What's a poor little old lady like me to do when it's
four against one?"

She had also included me among the men.  She had counted four men!  I could
feel my chest swell.

"Well Noah Hakoah, it looks to me that you have done a good job."

My father interrupted again.  "You have done better than a good job, you
have made a great mitzvah... and haShem will bless you for it... and you
will be forever loved."  It was weird that my father made such a religious
comment.  I had never heard him do anything like that before.

Mumma looked at dad with a very strange look.  She said "Omayn".

Suddenly I was very tired.  I almost began to fall.  Jase said that he
would put me to bed.  I hugged Dave and said to him "mazeltov" and he
kissed me on the head.

"Thanks Rebbe... see you for more practice tomorrow, I guess.  Good night,
sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite..."  He laughed and was gone.

Mumma was sitting in her chair.  She looked as if she was about to cry.  I
teetered over to her and gave her a kiss.  She almost wept and gave me a
cuddle.  "Sleep well baby, sleep well.  I love you."

"Love you too mumma."  She sniffed and Jase took me to bed.

He helped me undress and grabbed my dick.  I didn't even bone.  He smiled
to himself.

"Had a bit of a workout, huh?"

I smiled at him and hugged him.

There was a gentle knock at the bedroom door.  It was dad.

"May I come in?"  Dad always asked.  So did mumma for that matter, unless
she was really mad about something.

"Scram!" he said to Jase, not unkindly while running his finger down
Jason's cheek..  Jason scarpered.

"OK, champ.  I think I know about you and David Klein.  Don't worry,
already.  I'm your father and I'm supposed to know everything."

I must have gone red or something.  I know I smiled when he said David's
name.

"Yeah, you've got it bad.  You know Chaim and I are partners... and I know
when he travels to Melbourne...  You think I'm a schlemiel?  Did you have a
good weekend with Dave?  Looking at you I think you did."  He smiled his
biggest, warmest smile and ruffled my hair.

"It's good to share with friends.  But sometimes friends can be selfish and
we can get hurt.  If you are ever hurt, or you want to talk about anything,
come talk to me."  He gave me a big kiss on the cheek and tucked me into
bed.  "I love you Noah Hakoah."

"Love you, dad."  I was asleep before he left the room.


**********


June, and Jason's birthday was coming.  These past few months had been
hellish for him.  Just before Pesach (Passover) in April his voice broke.
I think it was early March that his voice not only broke, but, according to
mumma, smashed into more pieces than a glass at a wedding.

I love Jason wildly of course.  He's my brother.  So I sat with him nearly
as much as I sat with Dave, helping him with his parsha and haftorah.  He
squeaked and warbled then boomed and did whatever the opposite of squeak
is.  For two weeks this went on... yeah, that's right, till about two weeks
before Pesach, which would have been the middle of April.

I had read something on the internet about voice training and not to strain
or work too hard when the voice was breaking.  I told Jase to stop trying
and to relax.  For some reason, when it came to Bar Mitzvahs (Jason's,
Dave's and eventually mine) mumma didn't argue.  I do have to say, I found
this worrying.  I suppose, even at my age then, I knew without a doubt, if
on the day disaster struck, I too would be struck – by mumma – a
thought that made me tremble more than a little.  I hoped I was doing
everything correctly.  I even prayed a little.  "Hello God, please help
Jase and Dave and then, if I try hard, me, through our bar mitzvahs.
Please don't let me be wrong about Jase. Omayn"

I had told Jase not to practice for a week and to rest his voice.  It
seemed he was let out of prison and spent a lot of afternoons with Dave.
He always took me with him.  I was still totally in love with Dave (and
still am today).  He was still totally in love with me (and still is
today).  However, I did know that from time to time he and Jase would have
a little get together in his bedroom, which brought them closer and closer
together.  I never interfered.  Dave talked to me very seriously about
this, and I told him I didn't mind because I loved Jase very much and I
knew Dave loved him and me.  And that all the love in the world was inside
Dave.  Dave cried when I said that.  He also said he never wanted to leave
my life.  He said he wanted to be my partner forever.  Dave made love to me
nearly every day.  I felt myself grow continuously stronger because of him.
I didn't understand the half of it, but I felt it.

When Jason's week was up, we sat at home on his bed for one of our
brotherly talks.  This time I cuddled him to me.  It seemed I was beginning
to understand I didn't always have to be little Noah.

I pointed to the closed tenach on his desk and said, "Za robotu!"

His eyes widened and he just laughed and laughed and laughed.  He of course
spoke Yiddish too.  It was the only way we could communicate with our
zaydeh, that is mumma's dad.  Bubbe (granny) spoke perfect English.  When I
say perfect, I mean perfect.  She had a slight accent, but who from Eastern
Europe didn't?  She knew when to use who or whom; she told me never to
split an infinitive, and I promised solemnly I never would.  I didn't
actually understand this, so, quite early in my life, I mentally crossed
nuclear physics off my possible career list and it made a lifelong pacifist
of me.  I also once heard my zaydeh on the phone negotiating some business
deal.  His command of English also was perfect – so perfect it almost
made my hair curl – when I asked dad the meaning of one or two of the
words his reply was, "Ah, you have heard zaydeh negotiating, have you?" and
left it at that.  I think the words were `mouldy cunt' and `arse in a
sling'. The `fuckings' I understood already.

Sometimes when I was talking to zaydeh, I wouldn't be able to find the
Yiddish word, and I would use an English word.  He would look at me as if
he didn't understand.  Sometimes bubbe would help if she was around. If
not, I would then hunt the word out in an English Yiddish dictionary, and
then the light of understanding would illuminate his face.  These days my
Yiddish is perfect and the old fraud sometimes talks to me in English,
sometimes in Yiddish and quite often now in Hebrew.  It's the same with him
and Jase too.  The ancient buzzard told me he never wanted the old language
to die. I don't either.  I like some old traditions.  Anyway, I digress.

"Za robotu!"  After we finished laughing, Jase opened the book to the well
worn pages and started to chant.  A miracle!  His voice had started to
settle.  Perfect it wasn't, but he had the beginnings of a nice baritone.

I nuzzled into his shoulder and he put his arm around me.  I put my hand
into his lap and squeezed his cock.  He wasn't expecting that and he
squeaked and we both laughed.  He went through the whole parsha and
haftorah once.  I could now hear his voice getting tired.  "Stop! That's
enough! We'll do some more tomorrow. Don't say anything to mumma."

We told mumma we were going over to the Kleins.  She asked me about Jase's
practice and I shrugged and rolled my eyes.

"You want you should hear hens cackling," I said to her in Yiddish.  She
laughed right out loud.  A rarity for my mother – however she did have
humour.

She replied with "Cheek, and in Yiddish yet!"  Jase and I laughed.

She roared after me.  "Noah Hakoah!  You're a bochur... a shayne hevruta, a
moreh gadol.  (You're a scholar, a beautiful study partner, a great
teacher...).  I was now eleven going on twelve... this was just a bit over
the top.  I ran to get my jacket from my room.

I heard mumma shout to dad.  "Dov Hakoah, those two men, those sons of
yours, are up to something.  Find out what it is or I shall.  Dov, do you
hear me."

"They can hear you in Jerusalem," was poppa's rather tart reply.  "The boys
have a tenach, two yarmulkes," (his speech quickened) "two cocks, four
balls, and above all two rather sharp brains, not to mention a mother who
would kill them if they got into trouble – but not before she killed
whomever" (bubbe had been here) " they were in trouble with. You may start
the borshch whenever you like."

"You could die from such a man," was the muttered reply.

We toddled off to Dave's.  Jase pulled out a fag.

"Jason Hakoah, you will not smoke!"  I held out my hand and he gave me the
cigarette and his lighter.  "However, my voice is not breaking."  I
immediately lit up and Jase gave me a very sour look.

I happily puffed away, and Jase said nothing but sulked the whole two
minutes it took us to get to the Klein's.  I discarded the gasper and then
we cruised up to the back door.  Jase just bowled straight in and I
followed.  This house was as familiar to me as my own.

"Shalom, boys."  This was David's mother.  It was one of those magic things
that I found out about my future family, they all, including Dave, spoke
Hebrew. She was a large woman, not fat.  She was strong, too.  She had been
in the Israeli Army.  "Jason, have you been smoking again?  I tell you,
it's no good for you."

Jase kind of snarled.  "No I haven't... Ask the Rebbe!"

She picked me up and sniffed me.  "Rebbe Hakoah, you stink like an
ashtray. I want you should go and clean your teeth before you kiss my son.
I don't want him getting lung cancer from your breath."

She fossicked in a cupboard and found an airline style single use
toothbrush and paste.  She pointed to a sink and ordered with great
firmness, "Brush!"

Jason was killing himself with laughter and I was shaking for a number of
reasons.  I had never run foul of Aunt Devorah in my life.  She had caught
me out smoking.  Somehow she knew about Dave and me, and lastly, oh most
horrible of fates, was she going to tell my mother all?

"Is that Jason down there ima (mother)? I hear him laughing."  This was
Dave.

"Yes it is... along with the littlest rabbi...  your, (what can a woman
say?) your betrothed."  I guessed `betrothed' meant `fiancé', and I
could feel my ears go bright red.

"Noah's there?" he shouted, "Why didn't you say. Send them up."

"No, I won't send them up.  Jase can go, but the rebbe stays until you
collect him."

I was still brushing furiously.  I always did, because I hated the dentist.
I could hear very quick clump, clump, clump coming down the stairs.  My
hero was coming to rescue me.

"What's with you, ima?  Do you have rheumatics in your tit?"

>From red to pale I could feel myself going.  I would never speak to my
mother like that.  I really enjoyed my life too much.

"Cheeky sot."  Aunt Devorah replied quite mildly.

Dave grabbed me and gave me a hug.  "What's Attila the Hen doing to
you... why... are... you... cleaning... your...teeth?"  He looked
quizzically at his mother.

"Why is the rebbe cleaning his teeth?  I'll tell you why the rebbe is
cleaning his teeth.  The rebbe is cleaning his teeth because his breath
stank of Phillip Morris or some such thing.  One kiss and your betrothed
would have given you lung cancer!  My boy in the Sydney Children's Hospital
with lung cancer and why?  I'll tell you why, because his future life
partner, his boyfriend, his fiancé yet, gave him the kiss of death,
that's why!"

While all this was going on, Jason was laughing fit to kill himself.  I was
frothy around the mouth and not the least bit amused.  Dave put his arm
around me, told me to rinse, which I did, and piloted me upstairs.  Jase
was still downstairs, sitting on a chair hooting away and sometimes going
"oh, oh, it `urts" and holding his ribs.  I hoped it would hurt more.

Suddenly everything was perfect again.  Dave kissed me and held me tight.

"Your mother knows everything... Will she tell my mumma?"

Dave kissed me again and I only could think of my love for him and his love
to me.

"Of course she's not going to talk to your mother, you nudnik..."  He
smiled at me and I just melted again.

"Do you think I'm a nudnik; do you really think I'm a pest?"

"Yes you are... one of those little pests that get under your skin and you
can't get rid of them and you learn to live with them, because you really
loved them wildly in the first place and that's you..."  This all came out
in a rush and I fell in love with my Dave all over again.  He kissed me and
rubbed my back under my shirt.

Giggles were coming upstairs.  My treacherous brother had arrived, still
cackling fit to lay an egg.

"You putz, Jason Hakoah."  I was cross for his `Ask the Rebbe' crack and
dropping me in it.  This only made him laugh more.

"Oh shit Noah, you should have seen your face.  Oh shit, oh dear!"  He just
couldn't stop laughing.  Unfortunately laughter is a highly contagious
disease, and soon all three of us were rolling on the floor laughing fit to
kill ourselves.  Dave gave Jason a kiss while still cuddling me and
gradually we calmed down.  I just couldn't stay mad at Jase.  I loved my
brother too much.

At that point Dave looked at me and asked me if I smoked.  I told him I
took an occasional puff of Jason's cigarette, and that was about the extent
of it.  He asked me not to do it please, because it might hurt my voice.  I
promised him I wouldn't.  I haven't had a ciggy since that day.  I should
say, that about three times a year we all have a cigar – invariably at
Purim, our crazy festival.  On this day we also get drunk.  I love Purim!

"It looks like Jason's voice might be settling," I said to Dave.

"I saw a movie once," Dave started off, "Where a cantor's son wanted to be
a show singer of some sort.  So he skived off from shabbat services and
went to the music hall and sang from the audience.  He was really good, so
the guy running the show asked him to come every Saturday and he did.  Then
one time his voice broke and he had to whistle his way to the end of the
song.  I think it was called the Jolson Story or something.  It was a shite
movie actually.

"So what?" asked Jason.

"Weeeeellll, I guess if your voice breaks midway through your parsha, you
could whistle your way to the end and do the haftorah the same!"

Dave and I fell about laughing.

Jason simply said, "Arsewipes!"

And he couldn't hold back either and started to laugh again.

Altogether, we had a crazy afternoon and pretty much used up our monthly
quota of laughter.  All the time though Dave had some physical contact with
me.  I couldn't help but love him more and more.

The afternoon sped past and Jase leaned over and gave Dave a really nice
kiss.  "I'm on my way home and so is the Squirt.  I'm off downstairs and
I'll see you there in a minute or two."  He gave me a hard look which meant
he was serious and trotted off.  This was the signal for Dave and me to
just totally love each other.  Though we couldn't be completely physical,
our kissing was hot enough to burn holes in the carpet.  Together we told
the other of our love.  It was time to go our separate ways.  We did, but
not without organising a practice for the next day.

Passover came.  It is always a nice festival with a lot of fussing and
cleaning beforehand.  Mumma was quite taken up with everything.  Zaydeh and
Bubbe came over to supervise.  Zaydeh might have had a mouth like a sewer,
but with tradition and ceremonies, he sure knew what to do and when.  While
he was fluffing around the house giving orders and bubbe was taking orders
but doing her own thing, my mother grabbed me by the ear and marched me off
into the study.  She kicked the door shut with her foot.

"The Kleins are coming tonight."

I thought, "This is news?"  The arrangements had been in place for at least
three weeks.

"They are coming for the seder."

I felt like asking her if she was certain they weren't coming to creosote a
rhinoceros. I thought better of it.  The kicked door was a clue that mumma
was not joking.

"If, Noah Hakoah, by word or deed, or even thought, you hint to that old
fossil out there, and by that I mean your beloved zaydeh, that you and
David Klein have a relationship, I shall bury you, immediately after I have
buried my beloved father.  If he so much as smells a hint of your
relationship, he will have a heart attack and die. Vershtan, nu?

Oh, I understood alright.  I felt very pale. My head was sweaty and I could
feel myself start to sway.  Mumma grabbed me just as I was about to tumble
over.

She sat down with me cradled in her arms.  I looked up at the love shining
in her eyes.

"Mumma, you know?"

"Of course I know... I'm your mother.  Mothers know everything about their
children's love life."

"Pop knows too."

"Oh does he then?  Well he is your father, and a saint all his life he has
not been.  Fathers know about their sons."

I was starting to feel a little better.  Also my dad hadn't ratted on me.
He had kept my confidence.

"How long have you known, mumma?"

I have known that David Klein has been in love with you since you were
about four and he was seven, maybe six.  I knew you were in love with him
forever. You didn't know, but I knew."

She held me a little bit more in companionable and loving silence.  She
cleared her throat.  There was more to come.

"Nochele," she kicked off... This was going to be big.  The diminutive on
my name gave that away.

"Nochele, I'd like you to learn to sing properly.  I spoke to the cantor at
the Temple and he is willing to hear you and he will determine if you are
worthwhile to teach.

I sat straight up and just about knocked her out as my head connected with
her chin.

"If you're not any good, I shall sell you to the army as a battering ram."

"Mumma, I would love to do that..."

"What!? You want you should join the army as a battering ram?"

"No, I think I shall learn to sing first."  We laughed together and got
back to cleaning the house.

The Passover meal (Seder) went without a hitch.  Well maybe one little
hitch.  Zaydeh said the tradition was to sit in ascending order of age.
This of course put Dave next to me, right where he wasn't meant to be.  The
ladies sat on one side of the table and the men on the other.  Bubbe, of
course was at the top as she was definitely the oldest lady.  Zaydeh was at
the head of the table.  We opened our Hagadahs or book for the Passover
meal.

Dave ate with us every week, just about.  The Kleins, rarely.  So Dave had
perfected a sneaky way to feel my leg.  He always used his napkin as a
cloak of invisibility.  Jase too would cover any slipups or indiscretions.

Zaydeh started the Passover ritual.  "Now in the presence of loved ones (he
looked very hard at David and me) and friends (he looked smilingly at the
Kleins) before us the emblems of festive rejoicing..."  Then the three
ladies lit the festive candles plus three extras for Dave, Jason and me,
then zaydeh started the blessings over the wine.

I had a little surprise for zaydeh this evening.  I had surfed the net a
lot for some music for Pesach and had found some from Russia.  I had
memorised it and when it came to my part of the seder (I was the youngest
and the traditional four questions fell to me) I would chant the tunes from
the old country for the old fossil.

Finally after untold blessings over wine, matza and other bits and pieces,
such as bitter herbs (horseradish), came the cue "To this day, our children
continue to join in our observance."

Zaydeh looked at me meaningfully and I responded with a slightly quavering
note. I had never sung in front of my zaydeh or bubbe before, and I have to
say I got a bit of stage fright.  Dave didn't really know what was
happening and neither did anyone else.  I got a kind of fierce look from
mumma, a curious look from dad and a squeeze on the thigh from Dave.  The
squeeze did it.  And just as zaydeh was about to say something, I launched
into the question in Hebrew with a Russian Yiddish tune.  Mah nishtannah...

This tune was a round, kind of like Row, row, row your boat.  Zaydeh and
bubbe knew it immediately and started bellowing it out as a round.
Everyone got into it and started clapping hands in rhythm and thoroughly
enjoying themselves.

Funnily enough, the seder seemed to pass very quickly.  We sang lots of the
seder together.  Zaydeh and bubbe had not done this since they had left
Russia a million years ago, and they joined right in.  Everyone seemed to
sort of know the tunes.  I guess they were kind of buried in their heads
from little kids and had never been really dug up since then.

By this time I had drank more than the proper quota of wine and I was
feeling very merry.  I was also absolutely delighted with zaydeh's reaction
to my singing.  Everyone was happy and I more than anyone.  I had my David
sitting next to me.

This had been one of the best nights ever, certainly the best.

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