S o I’m on my way home from cheder and I’m in a really big hurry and who steps out right in front of me so I can’t pass by? Zalman who else? You really have to know Zalman to appreciate what that entails. You see I’m taking a shortcut between buildings and “the path is narrow but Zalman is definitely not.”
You might ask why I don’t just turn around and go back the way I came. Especially since Rova Zayin in Ashdod is full of paths between apartment buildings through parks even under certain buildings through their basements where tenants park their cars. Well I can’t do that because I know it would hurt his feelings. Zalman is a special kid you understand? I’ve seen Zalman when somebody said or did something mean to him and it can break your heart to see his eyes cloud over and his lower lip quiver instead of stretching out in his trademark ear-to-ear smile.
So I stop. “Hey Zalman.”
“Meir!” He has a slow way of speaking it sounds kind of like “Mmmayrrr.”
I pinch his cheek as if he were a little kid instead of a boy two years older than me. His smile is like sunshine but my patience is pretty thin. I bounce on my feet. “I have to go ” I tell him slowly.
