Ok, here it is... whew. I hope it stirs in the pagan teacher some kind of godly righteousness. And of course the formatting is all borked up.
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Lael -------
Freshman Seminar
Shere --------
Nov. 7, 2005
Paper #2: In Someone Else's Shoes
____"Ma, I just don't know," I finally sighed into the phone.
____ "Well someone did it. It had to have been someone. Things like this just don't appear out of nowhere. Your father and I have lived here for forty-three years and nothing like this has ever happened. Unbelievable. And to happen to us! What have we ever done to anyone?"
____ "Look, you're sure you and Pa are ok?"
____ "We are -- just a little rattled," she admitted.
____ "Okay, like I said, don't touch it anymore than has already been done. The police will need to do whatever they do to those things and you don't want to complicate it," I advised.
____ "Your father got so angry, he couldn't help himself. And I understand," she said.
____ "Okay. We need to stop talking now so you can call the police."
____ "Bah. They will probably just muddle the whole thing. The louts," she complained, hesitant to cut the line.
____ "I know, Ma, but we need to get them involved. I'll be over right away," I reassured.
____ "Ok, boobsie. Get here quickly."
____ "Bye, Ma."
____ "Love you. Bye-bye.
Leo! Stop pok-"
____ I hung up my cell phone and careless of scratching the dark cherry finish, I slid it roughly onto the nightstand next to my bed. Luckily, I hadn't thrown my clothes into the normal pile on the floor before I went to sleep a few hours earlier. Instead, I draped them neatly over the ironing board that I used before going out. At least I wasn't going to look like a total schlepp. My thoughts raced as I threw on my jeans and button-down and I caught a whiff of stale sweat and alcohol from the club. That was one of my least favorite parts of the morning after. It was nothing a quick dash of cologne couldn't fix, but I wasn't in the mindset to debate that foolishness.
____ "Why my parents? What could be the motivation behind this? And why now?" I frowned as I thought to myself, too busy to even try to answer my own questions.
____ I kicked on my glossy shoes and didn't think to tie them. I was always slightly on the lazy side when it came to shoelaces and always left them tied. Splashing some water across my hair, I managed it back into some semblance of order and then brushed my teeth.
____ Catching myself in the mirror, I stopped and looked into my own eyes. Looking back at me was anxiety and anger. Worry creased my forehead and dark circles from lack of sleep neatly framed those other person's eyes.
____ I knew I was Jewish, but what does a Jew look like? Black curly hair and brown eyes or black eyes? Big honking nose? Maybe my nose was slightly on the honkish-size, but other than that, I could have passed for any other red-blooded American male. Neatly cropped sandy-brown hair graced my scalp and there was plenty to go around, with no fear of shortage in this life. Foolishness. I had to get to Ma's house.
____ The drive over was uneventful and if anything, it left me sobered in thought. It was funny how things seemed all perfect and wonderful and then reality smashed through, whether we wanted it to or not. I never asked it to, at least. It was uninvited.
____ There was one odd thought that did emerge, though -- a memory. I never embraced my life as a Jew, nor did my parents. They did, however, grow up in the synagogue and drifted away before they met each other. I remember as an adolescent asking why people were fighting in the Middle East and Ma told me that it was meant to be. She said that in the Jewish traditions and the Torah, it was written that because the Jews did not do as God commanded and destroy all of the people of the region, that
they would be in continuous strife until the Messiah came.
____ I didn't understand what she said at the time, but it now made an eerie kind of sense. This conflict expanded ten-thousand miles away and landed in my parents' front yard. It included me whether I wanted it or not.
As I pulled up and parked in front of the house across the street, a squad car also arrived and joined the other two that were already choking off the aesthetic of the sleepy conservative neighborhood. The Crime Unit SUV was haphazardly backed up to the driveway, and the detective was
selecting gear from the opened hatch. Another officer was rolling out the typical yellow tape and establishing the police line.
____ I exited my car hastily and shut the door, but it closed on the seatbelt, making an ungracious clunking sound. Frustrated, I left it and hurried to Ma, who was standing at the front door.
____ "Boobsie!" she called and waved.
____ The officer-in-charge turned and with an amused countenance from her term of endearment, waved me in and I nodded as if it weren't my parents' home anymore. As I walked up the driveway, past the neatly manicured front lawn, I took in the slightly acrid odor of charred synthetic fibers and my gaze was drawn to the center of the lawn, which was obscured from the street by the squad cars. The Palestinian flag stood protesting and out of place, while below it, on the ground were the remains of the Star of David - Israel's flag.
____ Israel. My unclaimed heritage. The crime cried out to me and tore at my heart, but I was furiously calm. How it could affect me that way was beyond me. It was just a flag. It was a flag, but it was more. Flags are the embodiment of a people and it was an accusation that looked me dead in the eyes. It was those strange eyes that I saw in the mirror. They were my eyes and I wanted to know more about them. I wanted to know my people and their God.
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