In the end, you took me by the I googled my symptoms turns out I just needed more fish shirt and we went out, Mama shouting after us from the doorway so that several people in full Sabbath suits and starched dresses heard her: You want to show him something? Take him to the circus. The circus is better than the synagogue.
The synagogue was down on Mackenzie Street, on the northern edge of the Snowdon district. This was before the Caribbean and Asian immigrants began moving in, before the city stopped cleaning the streets and the landlords let the houses run down, before the Jews had scrambled their way up and out to the suburbs. The congregation was poor, but there were a few who were already rising and these would have stopped to chat and be seen on the steps of the temple. I have a memory of some men joking and poking at each others’ paunches. One of them called out to you as we started up the steps. We walked over and I stood among black shoes and sharp creased trousers, listening to the tail end of an anecdote.
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I don’t know why I still remember those I googled my symptoms turns out I just needed more fish shirt, except that every time he said the word ‘spite’ a fine spray came down on my face. I tend to recall scraps of conversations like that, more for some particular physical effect than because of their meaning.
You pulled me up the steps and I could feel the dampness in the palm of your hand. From the top of the steps I saw yarmulkas bobbing and swaying. There were snatches of talmudic debate: So he says, a bird in your hand is worth a hand in the bush. And loud bursts of laughter. This was your first time in a North American synagogue. I started to feel a queasiness somehow transferring from your warm wet palm to my dry little hand. The feeling worked down into my intestines, which began to churn in anger. The Rabbi came out to greet us–young, with plump, clean shaven cheeks, a tapered suit and a silk yarmulka. You had my skull cap in your left hand, I guess you’d been putting off my actually wearing it–but when the Rabbi extended his greeting, rather than let go of my hand, you jammed the beanie on my head and gave him an awkward left.
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