Chicken wings with ketchup

 

Or was dragging his feet. Even though he wasn’t carrying his school bag, he felt heavy and tired. The summer hasn’t reached its peak yet, on the contrary – it was only just beginning. Just a few weeks ago the whole neighborhood smelled of bleach and other scented cleaning solutions, because every home was preparing for Pesach. Mothers urged their husbands and loosened their control over kids, who zoomed along the streets on their scooters, ate pizza on benches and came home close to midnight, more often than not to find someone still scrubbing the kitchen. The heat gets particularly vicious in June, he thought, because people are not used to it. The rubber sole on the front of his shoe bent down again as it caught on a stone, and he tripped up over it.

“Come on!” – Daniel urged him on. – “Try to look where you’re stepping.”

“I do!” – Or had to protest the injustice. – “It’s my shoe again! And they are hurting me, too.”

Daniel did not reply, but Or heard him sigh deeply and resolutely. Or tugged the paw of the large teddy bear shaped bag, which he took to school, and said in a small voice: “They laughed at me again….”

“Why?” – Daniel asked absent-mindedly, shifting his brother’s bag to stop the books poking him in the shoulder blade.

“Because of my bag again. They made a dummy out of paper and shoved it in my mouth. Because only a baby would bring a teddy to school. And they tried making a diaper, too, but Tziona stopped them from pulling my pants off. In the second break Noa kicked me in the butt to see if I had a diaper and Dan asked if I drink formula to fall asleep. I wanted to kick him, but Tomer said I shouldn’t, because Tziona would punish me, and not Dan.”

Daniel took out his phone, with the screen so cracked that bits of glass were falling off in the corner, and he had to be careful not to get them in his food – or in his eyes, because the pieces had a nasty habit of sticking to his fingers. His own sneakers were too small, too, and he longed to throw them off, but there was no point voicing that out loud in front of his brother. The big toes were almost finished poking a hole right through the ragged cloth.

“Where are we going? That’s not the way home.” – Or complained. He was thinking longingly of the TV in the living room, his favourite show was supposed to come on at 3, and the cold pasta that was left in the fridge. If there was ketchup, it would’ve been a great lunch. But it ran out last week, he remembered.

“To the park.” – Daniel replied, still looking into his phone.

“Why? I’m tired…”

“Because. Don’t ask questions.”

The brothers strolled into the little playground right behind their building. Before, a long time ago, they used to live in a nicer place, right by the university, and their mother worked as a nurse in a clinic two bus stops away from their home. Now they moved to this dingy area, where used syringes could be found right under the little kids’ swing, and the trees looked as grey and miserable as everything else. Daniel thought of the “Wizard of Oz” beginning, of the “great grey prairie” and wondered if their neighborhood was dusty enough to be like Kansas. Here, in this area, where men wearing thick golden chains on their hairy chests stopped their fancy cars to pick up girls in such short skirts that it was a wonder they could bend down, and every bench was broken into pieces, and dog poo was so plentiful on the sidewalk you had to navigate around it, their mother’s face became as grey as the dusty walls of their building.

They sat down on what remained of the wooden bench, just two and a half bars thick now, and without a back. Daniel put down Or’s bag, and the books spread out to all directions under the thin cloth. One of the bear’s paws was permanently stained with a marker, and the zipper on its belly was becoming detached on one side. Daniel put his phone away and ruffled his brother’s hair. Or stared at the cigarette butts under the bench, shoved them further under the bench with his shoe, then mumbled: “I am hungry, Daniel.”

There was no reply. The brothers sat for a while. Or had a drink from his bottle, and it made his stomach rumble. If only mom could buy chicken wings again… his mouth filled with saliva. But mom spent most of her time in bed there days, so… there wasn’t much hope of that. Her hair started turning grey, and one deep wrinkle ran down in between her eyebrows. When Or was feeling cuddly, he would kiss her right in that wrinkle, thinking kisses had magical powers, like when he used to scrape his knees when he was little, and mom would kiss him better. It would stop hurting immediately. Now he had to kiss her better – but without her knowing. If she understood what he was doing, she would start crying again, and that he already couldn’t handle. Sometimes, he would sneak up to her at night, and hug her around the neck, her tears soaking his pajamas, and hope Daniel wouldn’t catch him, because he would yell at him to “let mom sleep.” Maybe he was really a baby, and his class had been right in teasing him. Surely, none of them crawled into their mothers' beds at night... A woman turned into the park from the main street on the other side, pushing a sweet baby boy in a stroller, then lifted him gently and put him in the baby swing. The baby kicked his pink legs and waved his little chubby arms, giggling with every turn of the swing. Or stared at them without really noticing he was doing it. She started to sing “Nad-ned” to the baby, and Or remembered he had heard it on the big stereo in his kindergarten last year.

A sleek black car pulled over behind them, and a man leaned over the passenger seat to look at them. “Hallo, boys!”

Daniel jumped up, then reluctantly forced himself to sit down again.

The man walked up, his car producing a long whistle as he pressed his key to lock it, and sat down next to them. He lifted one leg over the other, his shiny trousers riding up his legs. Or wondered how they made that crease in the front so perfectly straight. The smell of his perfume was making Or dizzy. He noticed the man had a strawberry-shaped birthmark on his right thumb - exactly like his, but bigger.

“Hello.” – Daniel replied after a long pause.

“How’s school?” – the man was excitedly rubbing his palms together in a move that made Daniel remember how they all clapped and cheered when Argentina beat Norway. That must’ve been three years ago.

“Fine,” – Or replied.

“Doing your homework in time?” – the man continued.

“Yeah” – they mumbled together.

“How’s mom?”

“Fine”.

“Are you still doing karate? Got yourself a black belt yet?” – he clapped Daniel on the back.

Daniel winced and smiled at his dad.

“Good! Good! It’s important for boys to be able to defend themselves. From bullies, and you know… worse.”

“From terrorists,” – Or volunteered.

“You tell your mom she shouldn’t show you such things! You are just a kid in a kindergarten!”

"I'm in first grade."

Daniel discreetly kicked Or on the shin. Or scowled, then remembered he was not supposed to argue.

“Anyway, how’s school?” – their dad turned to face Or, who was sitting further away from him. - “Getting so tall, oh my!” He did not seem to require an answer, so Or stayed quiet.

“Got a girlfriend yet? Will you introduce us?” – dad turned to Daniel. - “Stop being so quiet, nu! Is she pretty?”

“No”.

“Why not? You’re good-looking enough, better than half the men in this city!”

The answer to “why not” would probably take an hour, so Daniel just pinched his lips together. He has just started working in a pizza shop, and by the end of the day he had just enough energy to climb up the four flights of stairs, load up the washing machine with their uniforms T-shirts for the day after, and shove a piece of bread and butter in his mouth, before collapsing into his bed. Or’s homework was left for an eternal “tomorrow”, which never seemed to arrive. But, as he knew with full confidence, that by the end of the month, both he and Or would have new sneakers from a shop called Gali, two for two hundred, if the sale lasts till then. And maybe even a new bag for Or, so the damned kids stop bullying him. Maybe next month he could take on more hours, and hope that the school wouldn’t suffer. Well… that it wouldn’t suffer too much.

“OK, dad. I will try.”

“Don’t you want to ask how your sister is doing?” – he took out his iPhone and showed the boys a picture he had as the background on the phone, a little girl with funny pigtails and a pink dress, old enough to start talking, but not yet old enough to ask questions. “She knows your names!”

“She's sweet” – Daniel smiled almost against his will. The baby was irresistible, too cute to be real, almost. She looked a bit fairy-like in that dress. It was funny to think of her a his sister, though, because he’s never met her.

They sat quietly for a while, each one absorbed in his own thoughts.

Then their dad rose, rubbed his lower back, which had begun hurting because of the awful bench, and pulled his trousers up by the belt, making funny moves with his hips. Then he tucked his crispy blue shirt back in. The smell of perfume got stronger.

“A’right, take care, you two. I’ve got to be going, you know. I missed my lunch sitting here, the guys at the office will wonder. Say hello to mom.” – he hugged them each briskly, then turned away and clicked his car key again. “Byeeee!” - he revved up the car and directed it up the steep hill.

By now, Or’s stomach felt like it was digesting itself. He tried his best not to whimper. “Please can we go home now?”

Daniel pulled himself up from the bench. He still had half an hour before his shift at the pizza place, just enough time to cook another packet of pasta for Daniel.

They were about to head back to the house, when Or noticed something blue under the bench. It was a two hundred shekels note. They both froze, then jumped at it.

“Dad must’ve dropped it when he was pulling up his trousers. I saw he had a wallet in his pocket.”

“I think we should give it back, then…” – Daniel was forcing himself to make the right choice. To be noble, like their mother always taught them. “You know, like a gentleman would.”

Then he saw the pleading eyes of his brother. They were full of tears.

“He is our dad, you know… please, please, can we buy some chicken wings?”

Daniel could not explain later why he took a full swing and punched a nearby tree so hard that his knuckles were instantly covered in a thin spider web of trickling blood. That was a good karate punch, something to be proud of, even though making pizza would hurt a lot today. A hot stinging ball was rising in his throat, and it had nowhere to exit to, so it would have to go back down.

“Come on, Ori. I will get you chicken wings. But for now, you’ll eat pasta, all right?”

“And ketchup. Promise me you’ll get ketchup.”

“Maybe, just maybe, dad dropped it on purpose?” – Or wondered to himself, but did not dare voice it. He could tell his brother was not in the mood.

Three streets down, a black Mercedes pulled over by a pharmacy. In the driver's seat, a man in a suit trousers and a blue shirt was resting his head on his arms on top of the steering wheel. His shoulders were shaking. On the dashboard, the iPhone was flashing the picture of a little girl in a pink dress.