Finally, Chapter I

The Adventures of Becca and Freddie, The Turtle Dated 11 September 2009

Chapter I

This story takes place in New York City, home of a gazillion people. My name is Hannah Rebeccah Harris, and this story is about my future turtle, Freddie. I come from a Jewish home, not ultra religious, but we have a great love for God and His Word, and for each other. My Mother is called Ima, My Father is Abba. My family calls me Becca all the time, a shortened version of Rebeccah. I like that name.

My best adult friend is Bubbe – my Grandmother. Bubbe and my Grandfather live in the same building as I do, but they live about 9 stories below, on the first floor. Bubbe takes me to school in the morning, and picks me up after school. When I have friends over after school, Bubbe sometimes makes us cookies, and sometimes we’ll just have cheese and crackers with bread and butter pickle slices. Yum! My favorite!

My home with my parents is in the penthouse apartment right across the street from Central Park, in the Upper East Side. This city is full of very tall buildings, many of them buildings where people go to work, and many of them apartments where families live. A penthouse is the very top story of an apartment building, and it’s quite special because you can walk out onto a large porch area that has trees and flower pots, and in our case you can see right across the street into Central Park.

Central Park is quite special, as it has wonderful trails where people jog every day, and a big play area for kids, like me. The Central Park Zoo is close by, and Friedsman Carousel is so very much fun. There is a wonderful small lake where people can rent a canoe and paddle away for hours; there are large rocks quite popular for the boys to climb; the forests are thick and dark, home for little critters like squirrels and chipmunks, little field mice and bugs. LOTS of bugs, even fire flies at night that are fun to run after and catch in little jars. But you have to be careful to let them go after awhile so they can join their family.

My parents both work full time; Ima works in a bank and helps people start new accounts. Abba sells property, like office space in the large buildings called “sky-scrapers”. Our whole family, including my Grandparents, gets together every Friday night to have dinner together. We welcome in the Sabbath with candles and a beautiful braided loaf of bread, called Challah that Bubbe bakes, with my help of course! Abba shares from our Bible great truths we need to know about and remember. On Saturday, Abba and my Grandfather leave early in the morning for Synagogue, at Temple Emanu-el and later we take walks through the Park, often times having a picnic of left-over Challah with cheese and fruit. I love my family!

Sometimes after school or during summer break, Bubbe and I take the subway to the Museum of Natural History, or just walk through the park. Once in a great while Bubbe treats me to a carriage ride and I always prepare myself by bringing a couple of whole carrots for the wonderful, gentle horse. My friend Sophie and I get together quite often, and her little brother, Jacob, often comes over with her. Jacob is just a year younger, so the three of us have a great time together. I think they are my very best friends!

I love being with Bubbe, but … well, some days I just want to have something to take care of by myself, instead of being taken care of. One day, Bubbe and I sat down after school, when it was just the two of us. It was storming something fierce outside and we just sat quietly, watching the lightening out of the large windows. I was apparently more quiet than usual, as Bubbe asked me what was going on in my pretty little head.

“Becca darling, what’s troubling you, child?”

“Oh Bubbe”, I said sadly, “I love the time I spend with you and all the things we do together, but sometimes I’d really like to have something that I could care for, like a pet!”

“I totally understand,” said Bubbe, pulling me closer to her, her arm holding my shoulder tightly. “Sometimes a little girl just needs to have a buddy, other than a classmate or your old Bubbe.” We both giggled at that comment, as I didn’t ever think of Bubbe as old! Just a little crinkled here and there.

So, that night when we were sitting down for dinner, I prepared to have a little pow-wow with my parents. Bubbe had fixed our meal, and my Grandfather also came because he likes to eat too!

Bubbe spoke right up, “Becca and I talked today about her need to have a pet. I think she’s old enough, and with my watchful protection, she’d have an opportunity to take care of something, and learn things along the way.”

Becca chimed in, “Yes, Ima and Abba… I’d really like to ask your permission to have a small pet that I can care for!”

Becca’s Ima said, “I’d love for you to have a pet, sweetheart, but the apartment rules are such that they don’t allow dogs or cats. Let’s check with the Superintendent and see what he recommends. Perhaps a caged little pet would be acceptable.”

Abba spoke right up, “Yes, I think being eight years old is a great age to have some responsibility in caring for a pet. I think you’d be perfect as a pet owner.”

I was SO excited, I jumped up from my seat at the table and gave each Parent and Grandparent a BIG hug and a kiss on the cheek. Later that evening Abba had to go to the neighborhood market for milk and bread, and returning to our building, bumped into the Super (short for Superintendent) in the elevator.

“Hey there, Walt. You know our Becca quite well; say, what do you think about our getting a small caged pet for her?” Abba asked the Super. “Would that be acceptable to the rules of our building?” Walt agreed right off, without even thinking in great detail. The Super has known me since I was about four, and we’re pretty good buddies, anyway. I guess he just couldn’t turn me down - I always give him a big smile in the elevator.

So, that night in bed, I was so excited that I could hardly sleep at all. When I finally drifted off to sleep, my dreams were filled with all sorts of pet options: hamsters, goldfish, a ferret maybe? When I thought about a turtle, I was sure this idea was unique and a great decision. I fell asleep finally and dreamed of a turtle, not just any turtle, but MY turtle!

Pre-Story Ramblings

I'm getting all my ducks in a row, Per Se. A lot of my investigation is in place, and Jerry fixed up a lap top that I didn't even know we had! Blew some dust off the top, and it will work well once we get to the New Mexico cabin on Friday. Gee, I can even work on things in the car while driving! When I return to the Blog next week, probably Wednesday, I may have my first chapter!

Speaking of Blogs, and Computers, sometimes I see the merit of such conveniences. Ordering NetFlix by website, or even ordering a movie right off the TV to watch instantaneously! Writing future chapters of this dream while riding in a car! Visually talking to our son in Japan - through the aid of a web-cam and microphone to hear his voice. So many marvels in our time, but there's something melancholy about the way life used to be.

A time when life was slower-paced, kinder, fresher. I'm thinking about the way I used to help Mom put the laundry out on a line. Better memories yet... of when I helped my grandmother in Cheyenne, WY do her laundry in the basement of their home, on a wringer-washer. The silly machine would be agitating in soapy suds, then Grandmother would pull the plug, and the water would go down a hose into a drain on the floor. The tub would fill up again, the agitator going in full motion. This time, as the soapy water went down the hose into the drain, we'd take an item of clothing and run it through this wringer (hand-operated, mind you) which would squeeze every drop of water from the article of clothing. We'd fill that apple basket to the top with clean clothes. Oh my, the scent of fresh-clean laundry is still memorable!

Out to the clothesline Grandmother and I would go. In those days they had wooden pegs that held the laundry onto the line. I was tall as a pre-teen, so I didn't need a stepping stool to get the clothes hung. On breezy days I'd hear those sheets crack as they flew in the air.

Then there was ironing to be done. My Grandmother took in laundry to add to their income, and I always got to iron the hankies. Men's hankies were always white, and pretty basic to iron. BUT, ladies hankies were MOST fun! There were hankies that were laced all around that I took special care with the iron's heat. They were usually in the most adorable prints as well.

Grandmother would even iron the sheets and pillow cases, and the men's underwear; of course, I'd get embarrassed. I think even kitchen drying-towels got a lick and a promise of an iron, nothing was wrinkled in my Grandmother's house!

I remember growing up using a party-line in our house. It was mainly our neighbors we were tied up to, which was OK because we all knew each other and it was OK to pick up the phone, needing to use it, and interrupt the Armstrong's next door to say, "could we use the phone for a minute to make a doctor's appointment?" I miss that - people actually talked with each other, and we were always visiting the neighbors and taking over a pie if we made two.

I don't think I'll ever be a "texter". I don't like the concept at all; but lots of people find it's a time saver, and I guess these days, that's important. I rather like popping over to my neighbor Cheryl, or calling another friend a bit further away. We have a cell phone, but most our family and friends know by now that it's probably plugged in at home rather than being in my handbag. And we buy minutes instead of being billed monthly. It's like for emergencies. It's just the way we are!

Remember the old TV commercial for Calgon Bath Beads? "Calgon!!!!!.... take me A-W-A-Y!" I want to cry the same chant, but with emphasis on returning to the times when I was much, much younger - things were simpler, and somehow...kinder. Sometimes wallowing in "What Used to Be" is like a hot bath, filled with Calgon Bath Beads. "Take me away!!!!!"