by by Ruth
"Aunt Rachel! Tell us a story!" The children swarmed around their aunt. The candles had been lit, the drediel spun. The mothers had been trying to get the children to bed but they were lingering.
"Tut!" said their aunt. "You've heard the stories. Uncle Yassil read you a whole bunch of stories. . ."
"But we want YOUR story!"
"Yes, your story!"
"Oh, please, please, please."
"Tell them Rachel," groaned Golda. "Tell it to them or we will never get them to bed."
"All right, all right," Rachel settled into the big stuffed chair - "the storytelling chair" and the children gathered around her. Little Naomi, the youngest, claimed her lap.
It was our first Hanukkah since Mama died. Papa tried so hard to make it right, but he grated his finger with the potatoes and burned the latkes. It was not going to be the same and we all knew it. Everything had changed. Friendly Major Kolchek from the Earth Sphere Alliance had been replaced by a Colonel Araxa, who imposed a strict curfew. The officers we all knew were gone. Instead, there were people in black and white uniforms who never smiled, took what they wanted and beat up anyone they thought disrespectful. There had been some sort of revolution, Papa said, but we children didn't care because Mama was so sick.
I was all of seven and lighting the candles of the menorah. Papa stood behind me to help me reach. I tried to stand straight like Mama. The menorah was Mama's. She said her great grandmother's great grandmother hid it in the bottom of an old box when they ran from a place called "Russia." We were to be proud of it, it was a symbol that meant our people would never be lost. I didn't understand what she meant back then. It was old and made of brass. Mama kept it carefully polished.
"Bar- Baruch ata adonai. Elohainu m-melech ha'olum. . . ." I couldn't remember the rest and I thought I would cry. The flame wavered and I missed the shemash candle.
Papa wrapped his hands around mine and held them steady. He whispered to me the translation of the prayer. Mama was the scholar, he said, she was the one who knew the Hebrew.
"Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Hanukkah light."
I turned to light the second candle when there came a knock at the door. The twins, Yassil and Jakob looked scared and baby Golda (yes, your mother!) whimpered in her highchair. Papa told me to stay where I was and he went to the door. I thought he was so brave.
"Please, sir," said a young man's voice. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but I'm afraid we have no place to stay and yours is the only house we saw a light in. . ."
"The patrols are looking for us," said a second voice, deeper and sharper in tone.
"Come in, quickly," said Papa. They were two young men. One had soft golden hair, very pale skin and dirty, worn clothes that had once been neat. The other seemed taller because he stood so very straight, with skin as dark as Papa's or your Uncle Jakob's, spiky brown hair and ragged clothes that had never been neat.
"I'm sorry we're disturbing you," the blond said.
"Sit," said Papa. "We don't have very much."
"Papa," I said, "Mama always says we have just enough and just enough is plenty."
Papa gave me a funny look and for a moment, I thought he was going to cry. "So she did, Rachel." He came back to the menorah and we lit the second candle and said the prayers. He gave the boys the leftovers from dinner. The dark haired boy ate the burned latkes. The blond only wanted a cup of tea. They gave their names as Heero and Quatre, although Quatre did most of the talking. Yassil and Jacob got him on the floor and they were all playing drediel. Heero sat quietly in the back of the room, but you could tell he was watching everything. Papa cleared the plates while I tended to Golda. She was sleepy and whiny and didn't want me to rock her.
I wondered who the boys were, where they had come from and why would the troopers be looking for them. Papa came back in and took Golda. She didn't want him to rock her either. She was like that sometimes, I think it was because she missed Mama. Papa sat down in the big storytelling chair we had in the parlor (no, it was not this one, but it looked very much like it)and told the old stories. He told of Maccabees and the return to Jerusalem. He told of strangers that came to people's houses and turned out to be angels in disguise.
I looked at our two guests. They were both thin and sad, with dark hollows under their eyes. Quatre slumped as if he carried something very heavy on his shoulders. Heero's eyes were never still, as if he were looking for something. They didn't seem like angels. The twins slept with Papa that night and our guests had their room. I slept with Golda in mine.
The next day, Papa and I took the twins to Shul. While they were learning lessons from Rabbi Skopiz, Golda and I went with Papa into the temple. I had to keep Golda quiet while Papa talked with the other men. It wasn't fair. Rabbi Skopiz said girls shouldn't be allowed to read the Torah. He and Mama had argued about the Torah all the time. He said Mama's sickness was a punishment from God. Papa said Rabbi Skopiz was an ass, but he was the only Rabbi we had right now.
The other fathers and the unmarried men were talking about what the soldiers had done, what Araxa was up to, then they began whispering about something that had happened to the south. A big boat had rammed a refueling platform and OZ was blaming two Gundam pilots.
"What's a Gundam?" I asked Papa.
"Not now, dear," Papa said. He pulled his friends Saul and Avaram aside and told them about our guests.
"They may have run away," said Avaram. "There have been rumors that OZ is conscripting soldiers."
"They need some clothes, that I'm certain of," said Papa.
"Let me see what I can do," said Saul.
He came back with some plain dark suits, like the boys at the Shul had to wear. Papa took me home.
"Thank you," said Quatre as he took the clothes. "You're kind, but I don't think we should stay any longer."
"You had better stay," said Papa. "Araxa has ordered everyone leaving the city to show a pass saying where they are going and when they'll come back." His voice dropped very low so I couldn't hear well. I heard him say "Kolchek" and "mountains."
"Rachel," he said. "Take your sister upstairs and play." I did as I was told, but Golda was sleepy from last night and decided to nap on my bed. I sneaked down the staircase and sat just behind where it turned the corner to listen. Quatre was talking to Papa. It sounded like he was telling a story. He and Heero had been on the moon, fighting against the OZ organization in space. They had been captured and had escaped in a shuttle to Earth. They'd been captured again on Earth but had escaped again – and they had captured an entire ship. They had rammed the refueling platform to escape from OZ a third time. They were the pilots the men at the temple had been talking about! I still didn't know what a Gundam was, but clearly, these were not ordinary boys after all.
Papa could only say "amazing," for a while, then he called me to bring Golda back down so we could go pick up the twins. The two boys were dressed in their new clothes and once they pinned on their yarmelkes, they looked just like any of the older boys from the Shul.
We walked down the sidewalk. It felt like everyone was looking at us, wondering who our visitors were. Papa stopped and bought some groceries. Quatre tried to give him some money, but Papa looked insulted.
"Is there anything your Papa likes?" Heero asked me. I pointed to the tins of peppermint drops. Papa liked those very much, but hadn't bought any since Mama died. Heero whispered to Quatre and Quatre bought a small tin. He gave it to me to give to Papa as a gift. I still have the tin. My jewelry is in it.
The next few days were peaceful enough. On the seventh day, Avaram made a big show of inviting everyone to his house for the last night of Hanukkah. Papa went for passes and came back late.
"Nothing," he said when Quatre asked him. "The soldiers had a few extra questions for me."
Heero and Quatre looked at each other. Papa went to fix dinner.
"We have to go tonight," Heero whispered. "They're in danger."
"We could take them with us," Quatre whispered back.
"Where?" Heero frowned at him. Papa called me into the kitchen. I didn't tell him what Heero and Quatre were saying. Papa looked worried and sad. The next day, there seemed to be soldiers everywhere. Papa was worried, but we all piled into Mr. Gorski's big truck and drove out to Avaram's house. It was just after we were inside, when all the mothers were heading with their covered dishes into the kitchen that I noticed Quatre and Heero had slipped away.
It was a good party, we all had fun. There were songs to sing and games to play and new stories I'd never heard before. I had kept the tin of peppermints to give to Papa that night. He smiled and told me to keep them until we went home. It was very, very late when we went home.
And when we got there. . . ." Here Rachel gulped hard and blinked away tears. "The soldiers had come while we were gone. They smashed everything and took Mama's menorah."
Papa just stood in the street, his face all white and still like at Mama's shiva. Golda was crying, Jakob and Yassil started crying, I started crying too. Papa's friend Saul and his wife Anna took us into their house. Everyone stayed in their houses until the Sabbath. When we finally went to temple, there were fewer soldiers in the town. We learned that Colonel Araxa had gone out looking for rebels in the hills outside town and had disappeared. His headquarters had mysteriously burned to the ground.
And – seven days later a box arrived, all the way from the Sank Kingdom and what do you think was in it?
Yes! Mama's menorah! The very menorah we've lit tonight. Papa believed that Heero and Quatre had sent it to us, at least Quatre signed the note. So, even though Heero and Quatre weren't angels, they were able to give us something back for our trouble."
"Did you ever see them again, Aunt Rachel?"
"No, David, I didn't, but they remembered us. Many years later, we found out that Winner Enterprises set up a scholarship at Tel Aviv University in Mama's name. It seems Quatre the blond boy Papa let in that night was THE Quatre Raberba Winner. That was how I went there to school, and Jakob and Yassil went there too."
"All right," said Golda, "the story has been told, to bed now!" Jakob and Yassil's wives joined in and the children were hustled off, still whining for one more story.
Rachel went over and looked at the glowing menorah.
"We can never be lost, Mama," she said very softly. "Thank you, Heero. Thank you, Quatre. Where ever you are, mazel tov!"