Turning Eighteen, Part Two

Mr. Mendes didn’t come back anytime soon. But that was ok; I guessed where he was. He must have gone to his synagogue. Teachers are supposed to take part in their church or synagogue or some other community thing. It helps them get their tenure—it impresses the Board of Ed, I think.There were two synagogues in town. I didn’t know which one Mr. Mendes went to, so I decided to try the closest one. I hid my backpack behind a couple of recycling barrels on the porch and then set off.I’d never set foot in the synagogue before—and now I knew why. It was like walking into a foreign country. The lady who greeted me didn’t even say ‘hi’ in English. “Shabbat shalom,” she said instead as she shook my hand and smiled at me.I had no idea what that meant so I just nodded. Then I stepped toward the pews, trying to spot Mr. Mendes. But I didn’t get far before the old lady politely tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a yarmulke.I rolled my eyes as I put the yarmulke on my head. Then I went back to scanning the pews for Mr. Mendes—no, for Aaron. I had to get used to thinking of him as Aaron. I couldn’t expect him to look at me as an adult if I kept calling him ‘Mr. Mendes.’He wasn’t in the pews. He was standing up front. A few men and women were standing up there with him, gathered around a lectern with some kind of scroll on it.Mr. Mendes looked different. It wasn’t just the yarmulke on his head. He was wearing this long, fringed shawl too—in fact, he swayed back and forth now and again to adjust it, folding it and refolding it over his shoulders.I looked around the sanctuary. All the guys had that same kind of shawl on, except that some of the shawls were shorter. A couple were so short that they looked like scarves. Some women were wearing the shawls too, but not all of them.I stared back up at Mr. Mendes. He was saying something in what I guessed was Hebrew. Jesus Christ—he couldn’t just be sitting in a pew? Now I’d have to wait to talk to him.I slipped into the last pew and waited for him to finish doing whatever it was he was doing up there. He didn’t talk the whole time—someone else read from the scroll for a while. Then Mr. Mendes spoke again and finally he came back toward the pews.He paused to shake hands with people as he made his way back to his seat. I stood up, hoping he’d notice me.He did. He stared at me for a long moment, almost as if he didn’t recognize me. I guess people look weird when they’re out of their element. It had taken me a minute to recognize him, too, with that shawl and all his Hebrew talk.His face was concerned as he hurried down to me. “Jason, what’s wrong?” he whispered, placing a hand on my shoulder.He must have thought there was some kind of emergency—I guess he couldn’t imagine me in his synagogue otherwise. I shook my head as I let him steer me out of the pew.“Nothing’s wrong,” I whispered back. “It’s just that…” I let my voice trail off as he led me out of the sanctuary by a side door and into some kind of dining room.I took a seat at one of the tables while he took off his shawl and folded it. “It’s just that what?” he asked.“It’s just that I turned eighteen,” I finished. “So I left home.”He sat down in the chair opposite of me as he took that in. “Is today your birthday?” he asked at last.I nodded.“Mazel tov,” he said, managing a smile. But I could still see the concern in his eyes. “I know how anxious you were to get out of your Mom’s house,” he continued. “But can you afford a place of your own?”“I have some money saved up,” I said. After all, I’d been working since I was sixteen.“Most landlords are going to want a month and a half in advance plus a credit check,” he warned me.“I know,” I answered as I stared down at my hands, hoping I looked embarrassed and wishful at the same time. “You see—well, I wasn’t thinking of getting an apartment. Not right away,” I added quickly. “I, uh, was hoping that I could crash with you for a while.”There, that sounded about right. I wanted to say, “Let me move in with you so that you can fuck me and spank my ass good.” But I resisted. I’d have to keep those desires to myself—at least for now.I risked looking up at him. He was raising his eyebrows at me, but I could tell that he wasn’t shocked by my request. We’d gotten pretty close since I left school. In a father-and-son way, unfortunately, but at least it was something.“I suppose you can stay with me for now,” he said. “I won’t charge you rent, but I will expect you to earn your keep. You can take on your share of household chores.”“I will,” I promised. “You can take a belt to me if I don’t,” I risked adding.He grinned. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” he said. “But I want you to keep working toward your high school equivalency diploma.”I nodded at that. He’d been helping me along with it this far; I saw no reason to quit now.“And I’d like you to study for your SAT’s,” he added. “And take them.”I made a face at that. “Why?” I demanded. “I’m not going to college.”He leaned toward me. “This isn’t negotiable,” he said. “If you want to stay at my place, taking your SAT’s is part of the price.”I stared at him. He wasn’t kidding. “Whatever,” I said with a shrug.He smiled. “All right then,” he said. “Come on—let’s go back to the house and get you settled.”