Time-Out Zone, she’d called it, for singles needing a break from shidduchim. A quantum-mechanically operated “time brake”. A place to escape decisions, escape my bed piled high with clothing, escape the reality of what to do about — but for how long?
“P
latform Nine and Three-Quarters?”
A street musician with dreadlocks banged on a set of drums in the corner of the train station. I pressed my hands over my ears trying to block out the noise as I gaped first at the wall looming ahead and then at the woman next to it.
I’d first met her two hours earlier that evening when she’d intercepted me wandering the neighborhood trying to clear my head after a particularly bad blowout with my mother.
“You’re overreacting!” Ima had yelled. “Those pastries were on special! I’m not forcing you into any decisions! Shuli calm down! Okay okay stop crying mammele see I’m putting these nice cakes right into the freezer no need for a l’chayim this week — well it would be good actually with Leah’le and Moishe still here from Chicago… Shulamis Esther Levine calm down! No that is not pressure! I’m being pragmatic! You can’t schlep forever…”
I hadn’t believed Rochela Kokosh at first as the middle-aged woman explained her shidduch program in a slight British accent. She was dressed all in black except for the green ribbon tied around her sheitel and matching green eyeglass frames. Time-Out Zone she’d called it for singles needing a break from shidduchim.
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