
##1012950 Maggie knows she 's breaking her family 's strict Christmas rules . And she can only hope her sisters will understand why . <p> December 24 , P.M. I 'm in the mall . So is most of the county , from the look of things . Frantic mothers are making a beeline for Mega-Toys . Puzzled-looking men are pacing at jewelry counters , pointing at bracelets , then earrings or pins . Teenage girls pack the discount makeup shop . Teen boys are draping themselves over the side of the escalator on their way to the electronics store on the second level . I actually finished my Christmas shopping weeks ago , but I 'm suddenly worried about my choices : They 're all wrong , I think . Too odd . Worst of all , when my family opens the gifts tomorrow afternoon , they 'll know my secret . I am the youngest of four sisters and the only one who is n't married . But before you start thinking " old maid , " I have to tell you that my seven nieces and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 'm the one they call when their mothers are giving them a hard time . Also , I 'm only 34-and until recently I had a serious boyfriend , so while nothing 's imminent , marriage is n't exactly out of the question . Unsure of what I want to do about the presents , I turn to go outside . It has begun to snow , and in the dusky light , the trees at the far edge of the parking lot glisten with the white dusting . Maybe I 'll just go ahead and give my family the presents I 've chosen . Yes , it will change everything . But that will be OK . December 25 , A.M. The snow is about two inches deep and crusty from the cold . It 's a brilliant day-bright sunshine and no clouds . Standing outside , I feel brighter myself , though I did n't sleep well last night . No matter how the family gathering turns out , I know it 's going to be a strange day . My dog , Duffy , a Lab mix , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on the few roots poking through the thin layer of snow . I feel bad that he 's going to have to be inside most of the day , but I ca n't bring him to Christmas dinner . There 11 be too many kids , too many people rushing in and out of my sister 's kitchen . So I linger , leaning against the back door of my tiny house . It 's a cottage really-two bedrooms with gabled windows . And while I love it , the real-estate broker had n't lied when she described it as a " charming fixer-upper . " I look at my watch . Time to get ready . 1 call to Duffy , who bounds onto the small back porch and patiently lets me towel him down . I feed him in the kitchen , his damp , black fur glistening against the shabby beige tiles . The kitchen is the room that needs the most work . My old boyfriend , Nick , who 's an architect , was drawing up remodeling plans that would fit my minuscule budget when we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , feeling depressed every time I look at the dreary floor and stained counters , the sink with the chipped enamel . But I 'm not ready to start over with new plans . Not yet . I did n't meet Nick by hiring him as an architect . Tm a social worker at a senior center , and I 'd met him there by chance . Every Sunday night , the center serves a community dinner-a hot meal for people who might not have much more than cereal and soup all week . We rely on volunteer cooks and servers . One Sunday last February , a particularly bitter evening , Nick showed up to help . After we 'd known each other a couple of months , he confessed to me that while he liked old people , he had another reason for volunteering . His girlfriend had just ended their twoyear relationship , and when he 'd seen the center 's notice in the local paper , he 'd thought , Why not ? Might meet someone . Of course , I had n't known this at the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with shaggy brown hair and a wonderful smile . You could tell that he was n't a phony . As he served the pot roast and gravy , he asked the guests their names and introduced himself . I was standing next to him , scooping the potatoes and smiling to myself as I saw each man or woman light up at his friendliness . The center 's dining room is pleasant but utilitarian-long Formica tables and plastic molded chairs . Yet Nick had made it seem as though he were the host at a gracious dinner party . When we were walking to our cars , he asked me out for the following Friday . I was thrilled . After that , Nick and I spent pretty much all our free time together . We went cross-country skiing . We ate at quaint inns with trendy menus featuring unknown and unloved vegetables . We went to movies and concerts , and one Saturday we drove into the city for an art exhibition . But mostly Nick and I started fixing up my house and making plans for bigger renovations-a new @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was as eager as I was . One time , standing in the upstairs bathroom where we 'd just scrubbed the tile and rccaulked the tub , I joked , " It 's the house you really love , is n't it ? " All through the summer , we painted , sanded , and repaired , the dog always underfoot , getting covered in plaster dust . Once , just like on a sitcom , his tail swiped a freshly painted wall , and I had to stop and clean him off outside . All of it was fun and lighthearted and , for me , exhilarating . Then , in September , things started to shift . Suddenly , Nick was busy a lot of the time . " Work 's crazy , " he 'd say when I asked . When we got together , he seemed remote , sometimes sad . Finally , late on a Sunday afternoon , just before I had to leave for the communitv dinner , he told me that his ex-girlfriend , Jennifer , wanted to give their relationship one more try @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it was n't fair to keep me hanging while he made up his mind . He was right about that . I told him to leave . Then I stormed around the house , throwing pillows and sweaters and my hairbrush , before collapsing on the velvet sofa opposite the fireplace and sobbing . Finally , I was all cried out . I stood up , walked into the bathroom , scrubbed my face , and headed out to the center . That was three months ago , before the extraordinary event that was going to make this Christmas unlike any other . December 25 , P.M. Since our parents moved to a retirement community in Arizona six years ago , my sisters have taken turns hosting Christmas dinner . This year , it 's at Cathy 's house . Cathy is the sister I 'm closest with . We 're only 18 months apart , and though our lives are very different-she 's got a husband and two kids-we talk almost every day . She was almost as upset as I was about Nick 's defection . " That creep @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I used the good china when he came over . " Normally , our parents fly in to be with us for the holidays . But this year , my two oldest sisters-Liz and Joanne-are planning to go to Arizona with their families for New Year 's . I 'm going out in February , and I 'm hoping Cathy will come , too , but she is n't sure . She 's always worried about money . Her husband , Greg , is a musician-he plays keyboard in a jazz band-and while he has a lot of work over the holidays , January and February are going to be slow . I pull up in front of her house . Only Gregs parents are there , I see . Should I bring the presents in with me : I wonder . Or explain first , then fetch them from the car ? I decide to bring them-the kids will freak out if I appear empty-handed . I 've just opened the trunk when my sister Liz parks behind me . " Have you gone mad , Maggie ? " she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 's all this ? " " Do n't forget , I 'm bringing some of the food too , " I answer lamely . Nothing in the trunk looks like food . " You have n't broken the rules , have you ? " Liz demands . The rules are these : One gift per niece and nephew , each costing no more than $25 ( less for the little ones ) . And at Thanksgiving , we sisters draw lots , so each of us buys just one present , not three . This year , I 'd drawn Cathy . It was n't exactly random . Because I knew things were going to be so different , I 'd volunteered to write the names for the drawing and put a tiny mark on the outside of Cathy 's paper . Then I 'd made sure that I drew first . " Hey , Liz , Merry Christmas ! " I say , giving her a quick kiss and turning to hug her 16-year-old twin daughters . " Merry Christmas , kids ! " Liz CiJ n't help it , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ To my surprise , Cathy is even more upset when she sees my haul . " That 's not fair , Maggie , " she protests . " We made the rules so nobody would feel inadequate and the kids would think about something other than presents . " " I know , sweetie , " I say , looking sheepish . " But please do n't worry . " Cathy is particularly stressed this year . In addition to her usual money worries , she just had to replace her hot-water heater . Her children-Amy , four , and Matthew , six-have been warned that Santa is on a tight budget . I know how it must look : Aunt Maggie sweeping in with the contents of the entire North Pole , outshining her strapped sister . I can only hope that she will understand . Matthew and Amy have each taken hold of one of my legs and are dragging me over to the tree to see what Santa already brought . They do n't seem to have noticed the tight budget , happily showing me fancy marking pens @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ books , doll clothes , cameras that squirt water , and very high-tech-looking flashlights . I admire Cathy for keeping things modest but fun in an oldfashioned way . Am I going to ruin that ? I worry . Then Joanne arrives with her brood of three , and by the time we each get a glass of punch , the kids are begging to open their family gifts . Squatting near the tree-a balsam fir covered with homemade ornaments-I appoint myself Santa . That way , I think , I can control things a little better . Carefully , I pick the first package : It turns out to be a red hoodie for one of Liz 's twins from Joanne . The other twin gets a yellow hoodie . In fact , all the nieces and nephews get sweatshirts from Joanne . Cathy 's gift to Liz is a beautiful desk calendar illustrated with old photographs of immigrants arriving at Ellis Island . Liz is working on our family tree and is very into the theme . Cathy 's children give me a picture of Duffy taken one day @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Amy 's clothes-hat and sunglasses and all . I laugh and hug them both , promising I 'll put the picture on my mantle . " What about your presents , Aunt Maggie ? " little Matthew is asking . " When do we open those ? " I take a deep breath . I 'd been planning to make my announcement first , but suddenly I ca n't . " Now , sweetheart , " I tell Matthew , reaching for a box . I choose carefully , something that wo n't be too telling . It 's a hardcover edition of a new biography I know Greg has wanted to read . Our family never buys books in hardcover-we get them out of the library or wait for the paperback . " Wow ! " he says . " This is special , Maggie . Thanks ! " Now I just plunge in , reaching for the iPods for Liz 's twins , with all the accessories ( stylish carrying cases , speakers , connections so they can be hooked up to the car radio ) . The girls @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , but I know everyone 's looking at me . " Next ! " I call in a strained voice , handing Joanne 's oldest boy , Michael , a pair of Nordica ski boots . The room is utterly quiet . I fuss with a ribbon on one of my packages , knowing that everyone now realizes how extravagant the gifts are . " Maggie ? " Cathy asks . " What 's going on ? " I ca n't answer , ca n't even look at her . " Aunt Maggie , did you win the lottery or something ? " Michael asks . " Yes , " I whisper . " I did . " I keep fussing with the ribbon , not sure what to do next . " You won the lottery and did n't tell me ? " Cathy says . " I ca n't believe it . " She gets up , and without another word , goes into the kitchen . I start to follow , but hearing my steps , she turns and puts up her hands . " Please do n't @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ GIVEN ME THE TICKET ON MY birthday , back in October . It 's a joke in the family that Cathy always tucks a lottery ticket into her presents . Once , when she 'd given me an instant-winner scratch-off card , I 'd won $5 . Then nothing , not even free tickets . This year , Cathy had gone for the big weekly lottery . " I figure you probably need more money now , " she 'd said , no doubt tired of hearing me complain about how expensive my house was turning out to be . Just to make the down payment , I 'd used up all my savings and my portion of the small inheritance our grandfather left us . " Sure do , " I said , tossing the ticket into my purse . I 'd forgotten all about it until a week later when Cathy called . " I know this is weird , " she began , " but they just announced on TV that no one 's claimed last week 's winning lottery prize . And ... , " she paused @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I laughed . " Must be mine . I 'll look as soon as I walk the dog . " Bur another week went by before I came across the ticket when I was digging through my purse in search of a lost receipt . Why not check ? I thought . That way I can toss it . I logged on to the state lottery Web site and scrolled to the right date . There they were-the six numbers of my ticket . $2.1 million dollars . I scrolled up and down the list , staring at the numbers . I could n't really make any sense of it . What now ? I thought . What am I going to do ? I started to pick up the phone to call Cathy , hut then I put it down . I was n't ready to tell her , not until I got over the shock . For the next few days , everything seemed strange . I 'd see a fancy car on the road and think , I could buy that . But I did n't want a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . The funny thing was , I had no idea how to claim the prize . So I went to ShopTown , and after asking a whole lot of people ( without revealing my reason ) , I finally found out that I needed to present the ticket at a state office 30 miles away . For some reason , I did n't rush . In fact , it was another week before I made the trip . Once the lottery check arrived , I simply put it in the bank . Maybe if the breakup with Nick had n't been so recent , I would have been able to think about fixing up my house . But every potential project reminded me of him-his plan to strip off the layers of paint in the dining room to expose the original wooden wainscoting , his idea to find just the right end tables in some out-of-the-way secondhand store . I 'm not that into clothes , but one day I found myself in the fanciest boutique in town . I told myself , Just this once , 17/ buy something without @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gray sweater that I 've never worn . It 's in my dresser , with the tags still attached . " Then , just before Thanksgiving , I hit on the idea of surprising my family with an abundance of gifts . Plane tickets for Cathy and her family to by to Arizona . A new refrigerator for Joanne . A week at a resort for 1.17 and her husband . And dozens of wrapped packages for everyone : books and CDs and fancy food and sports stuff . All the electronics and toys and clothes that the kids craved . I thought I would have fun choosing the presents , but each purchase made me uneasy . It was so unlike our family to spend a lot of money . It was so unlike me-I felt as if I were showing off . December 25 , P.M. Now , I ca n't help thinking , I should n't have done it . Cathy is still in the kitchen , and Grcg has joined her there . Everyone else is quiet . " I wanted to surprise you , as a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I finally say . " But Maggie , it 's so much , " Joanne protests . " You 'll spoil the kids and .... " Her voice trails off . " And what ? " I demand . " Maggie 's right , " says Phil , Liz 's husband . " She 's had a windfall , and she wants to share it with all of us . What 's wrong with that ? " Then everyone begins to talk at once . " Well , I suppose , just this first Christmas .... " " Maggie meant well .... " " And the kids are already spoiled-ha ha .... " Slowly , everyone starts to act normal again . Cathy returns with some hors d'oeuvres , and though she is n't talking to me , she seems OK , encouraging the others to finish opening gifts so we can have dinner . In the corner by the glass doors that lead to the deck , I see her open the envelope with my special gift for her . She gulps hard , shows Greg , and then-still avoiding @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the plane tickets , I 'd opened college funds at the bank for both of her kids and a savings account just for her . Wc cat too much , as usual , and then , while the adults sit over coffee , the kids wander into the living room to play with their new things . Cathy still is n't speaking to me , but later , after everyone leaves and she 's settled Amy and Matthew in bed , she and I start to clean up . Liz offers to help , but we tell her no . Cathy and I know that we need to talk . Standing at the kitchen sink , looking out at the tall birches and evergreens at the edge of her yard , I say , " I 'm sorry . " She nods as she pulls the box of plastic wrap out of a drawer . " I 'm sorry too . I was just so shocked that you had n't told me . So hurt . " I dry my hands and hug her hard . And then for the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ load the dishwasher and hand-wash the pors and pans , we talk . By the time I leave , we agree that no I amount of money can change how we feel about each other . " Especially if you take me to that boutique , " Cathy jokes as she walks me to my car , a bag of garbage in her hand . December 25,11:30 P.M. My cell phone rings as I 'm opening the kitchen door . I put down the packages and let go of the key to get the phone out of my purse , bur I 'm too late . Missed call , it reads . I push View to see the number , sure that it 's going to be Cathy . But it 's not . I literally gasp as 1 see the number that flashes up on the screen : It 's Nick 's . I stand on the porch , looking at the number . But then I realize that Duffy is jumping at the door , desperate to greet me and get outdoors . There 's no choice-still holding the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ watch as he runs from tree to tree . Gingerly , I flip the phone shut . Standing under the deep sky , with the snow sparkling and the trees creaking gently from the cold , I decide I can wait to hear Nick 's message-and to call him back . Whatever he has to say , it will still be Christmas . Sidebar No matter how the family gathering turns out , I know it 's going to be a strange day . Sidebar At Cathy 's house , I appoint myself Santa . That way , I think , I can control things a little better . Sidebar I thought I would have fun choosing the presents , but each purchase made me uneasy . Sidebar Cathy still is n't speaking to me , but later , after everyone leaves , she and I start to clean up . Author Affiliation Toni Gerber Hope is an editor at Good Housekeeping . She lives in New York City with her family . <p> 
##1012956 An excerpt from the new novel by Fredrica Wagman <p> They lived next door ... on the other side of the high green privet hedge that separated their world from ours ... the first time I saw him he was standing on their terrace looking into our garden through binoculars - enormously tall and thin with very white skin and no hair , not even then , not one hair on his long bald head , making him completely colorless as though he were a statue - Otto von Ochsenstein ! - the world-famous composer , pianist and the famed conductor of the Philadelphia Philharmonic , then , the greatest symphony orchestra in the world . I was not quite 11 when they moved into the huge white house on the other side of the hedges , that great white stucco mansion set at the top of long sweeping lawns , old copper beech trees , every kind of fruit tree ... even a small peach orchard in the back with a fish pond in there that in the autumn was the color of opals in the sun @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of their house directly facing ours , a trellised arbor that in the summer was heavy with purple grapes latticed around a sprawling redbrick terrace , which was where I would often see him looking into our garden through those black binoculars . In those days , blinded by youthful awe and by the agonizing mistake that there are such people among us who are better - greater ... more deserving ... everything on their side of those high green hedges that separated their lawn from ours seemed as though it were from a completely different planet - so different , in fact , that to push my way through and cross over onto their property was to cross into another world ... a wild , resplendent world extreme in a variety of such astonishing ways as to be completely terrifying ... extreme in the genius of the world-famous conductor Otto Von Ochsenstein and the aristocracy of intellect that that world reflected ... extreme in wealth and fame and celebrity and the enormous power that came with it ... extreme not only in the ravishing beauty of the Maestro 's wife @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ home and their art and their grounds and their gardens , making them in their white stucco palace on the other side of the hedges , with all their dogs and cars and servants ... their chauffeur Crump , the cook , the butler and all the maids as close to royalty as one could get as their daughter Juliet and I , compatriots ... bound by the love we had for each other , that first great love affair would lie together on the grass through the long green summers of childhood ... making fun of everything , telling secrets and laughing . I must have still been 11 that day , the one that stands out so clearly ... the memory like a little island ... unattached ... still floating through time without a shadow ... the Maestro , accompanied by a short silent little man , both of them in gray business suits walking toward me ... it had been raining so I was soaked through - my dress and my hair plastered to me as I was waiting for Juliet at the far end of their living @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ back to back , as though they were curved from the same massive piece of ebony - their huge black wings that day raised for flight ... as Otto von Ochsenstein and the short silent little man kept walking toward me ... " this one ! - this is the one ! - Look at This ! " the Maestro whispered to the silent little man as they both stood in front of me - the Maestro 's thick-lidded heavy ice blue eyes like the shining eyes of an iguana , or a crocodile ... his huge towering height ... his pale colorless skin and completely hairless head ... mingling with the terrifying knowledge of who he was ... Otto von Ochsenstein ! ... the world-famous composer ! ... pianist ! ... Otto von Ochsenstein ! ... the world-renowned conductor of the Philadelphia Philharmonic ! as he came closer , clasped me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes as he whispered ... " never apologize for this beauty , never cringe - never be ashamed ... because whether you know it or not , " he said as he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the universe hungers for , " he was whispering , his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath . And as I listened ... and understood ... in the way that children who are precocious in some seamy wavs always understand ... and as I watched him staring at me ... and felt the strength of his grip on my shoulders ... I began to understand what power is . We lived in an old fieldstone house on the other side of that high privet hedge , a simple very old house with nothing exceptional about it except its age , a long front porch and remarkably beautiful gardens that were as bountiful , innocent and silent as the woman who tended them ... my grandmother , who scratched and dug out there when she was n't teaching , either in our house or at the prestigious Curtis Institute ... all day sometimes , bent over with her hoe , patting , planting and pulling each little thing , as brown and as lined and expressionless as the earth she always had her bare hands in ... @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ smell that filled every room she silently entered ... this slight , frail mindful woman , who in her childhood in Prague was destined for the concert stage - a prodigy , who at the age of seven began studying with the great cellist Maestro Oskar Stigl , but because of the war the family left ... she taking the cello that Maestro Stigl had given her ... and although she never played on the concert stage as he had expected - she became a famous teacher ... and I , her prized student from the time I was old enough to hold a bow was where she put her greatest dreams , her highest hopes - dreams and hopes I never shared ... and as much as I loved her , when she was old she became stone deaf ... and this made me ashamed . My father , Leonard Gold , her son-in-law ... was a surgeon , a professor of medicine and a medical inventor who devised the famous Gold Clamp - the first to make inroads into the understanding of blood coagulation , the dangers of heavy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a leading expert on sulfa drugs , bacterial infections and peritonitis , as well as an authority on fevers , sub-normal , persistent and uncontrollable but none of this made even the slightest difference to my mother - it did n't matter ... nothing did ... not my grandmother 's enormous gilts as a musician and a teacher , or any of my father 's contributions , achievements , long list of accolades or all the honors that were heaped on him all his life - none of this counted because my mother wanted action ! endless thrills ! - Life ! ... this small thin , highly charged woman , Kosi Gold , my remarkable grandmother 's only child - a wild hybrid with her endless stream of cigarettes , dyed straight black hair and her fierce rage to live - this thirst - this hunger that made her restless , dissatisfied and overly pushy because her burning passion " to live life to the hilt ! " never found a way - what drove my mother was excitement ! like the brilliant world of glamour and lame nourishing on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with ambition from the instant the von Ochsensteins moved in ... and this drive ... this ravenous hunger for " Everything ! " as she put it ... made the mysterious sense of shame I carried , even more unbearable . Our bedroom , my grandmother 's and mine , with its dingy organdy curtains , gray and stiff with neglect , our twin beds - our little night table and my desk and desk chair , faced directly into the Maestro 's music room on their second floor , which was a huge room with a black concert grand piano and a piano bench , where the Maestro would sit for hours every day practicing or composing in front of a long wall of glass windows that looked out over their latticed terrace - over the hedges ... over their long sprawling lawns , their swimming pool with the high diving board and into our bedroom , my grandmother 's and mine ... and every night ... after the concert at the Academy ... when everyone in both houses was sleeping - I 'd turn my head slowly toward the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the other side of the night ... every night ... night after night ... I would see Otto von Ochsenstein ! ... the great composer ! - pianist ! and famed conductor of the Philadelphia Philharmonic ! in a satin dressing gown with a satin scarf around his neck , peering into our bedroom through heavy black binoculars . Author Affiliation Fredrica Wagman , a native Philadelphian , is the author of four other novels . His Secret Little Wife is now available from Steerforth Press . <p> 
##1012957 There was something in the air , something in the wind . It was a kindly wind . Trees were swaying , though gently , and their leaves were rustling as if in applause to the change in the weather . <p> This had been going on for several days . The men and women who gauge the climate on television were exultant over the unusual run of good weather as if it was they who had brought it on . No violent winds , no rains , no fouled air , no floods . <p> It seemed as if the violence in the world had lessened . The wars , the massacres in Africa and Asia , had slowed to a halt . No killings , no bloodshed . Quiet was in the air . Something was happening . <p> It seems , now in its retelling , that it all began with a traffic jam in Jerusalem . It was eight in the morning , a frantic hour for traffic , which was crawling slowly uphill on the main highway into the city . The police @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ what was holding up the traffic but were helpless to unsnarl it . Traveling up the hill at a snail 's pace was an old man holding the reins of a horselike animal on whose back perched a rider of indefinite shape . <p> The old man leading the beast had the face and the figure of a patriarch . He had a full , flowing white beard , was tall and full-bodied and was wearing a robe of an odd material and shape . On his head was a large silken hat formed like a turban , which had a debonair tilt to it . His passenger seemed somewhat younger , though it was not evident because of the billowing garment in which the rider was wrapped . The robe was a rich purple color , which is not commonplace in Israel or even in Paris . <p> An Israeli policeman hurled himself out of his vehicle and ran to the old man and his passenger . " Hey there , cbevniman , you 're blocking traffic . Move to the side of the road with your horse and passenger @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ young man , " the patriarchal type told him . <p> " Whatever . Just move your ass and fast . " <p> The old man looked at the policeman kindly . " Do you know who I am ? " <p> " I do n't know and I do n't care . You 're a nudnick and you 're blocking traffic . " <p> " My name is Elijah , " he said . <p> " So ? " die policeman said . <p> " I am known as Elijah me Prophet , if you must know . Does my name mean anything to you ? " <p> " It does have a ring to it , but I do n't know why . " <p> The patriarch smiled . " I was at your bris , young man . Of course you would n't remember diat . I was also at the bris of your fellow officer in die car . I remember him well . <p> " Why ? " the cop asked . <p> " I wo n't tell you . " <p> He continued . " @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 's wine , at his Seder , Chaim . " <p> " Chaim ! How do you know my name ? " <p> " That 's my profession , young man . I go to all brisses and I drink at all seders . " He paused . " Does that tell you something about me ? " <p> " Maybe , " Chaim answered . " Who 's your passenger in that fancy purple cloak wearing that funny hat , Uncle , " he asked . <p> " You ca n't guess ? " the patriarch asked . <p> " No , papa . Just give me his name . My partner is writing you a summons and he needs identification . Okay ? That 's the trouble with you old bastards . You have no respect for the law . " <p> " Which law , Chaim ! " <p> " Israeli law , for Christ sake . " <p> " Oh , that law . I thought you meant God 's law . " <p> " Do n't be disrespectful , old man . Just give me his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ " My passenger is descended from the House of David . " <p> The cop was furious . " I do n't give a shit if he is descended from the House or Rothschild . Just give me his name . " <p> " Very well , officer . My passenger is the Messiah . " <p> " Messiah , " the policeman shouted . " The Messiah . You 've got to be shitting me . " <p> " I 'm afraid not , Chaim . " <p> Chaim approached the donkey and its rider . " I 've got to take a look " He removed the headgear from the passenger and was astonished . <p> " Listen , Elijah or whatever the hell your name is . Your passenger is a woman . " He stopped and looked at her suspiciously . <p> " What 's going on here ? Is she a hooker ? " the policeman asked . <p> " A hooker . What 's a hooker ? " the old man inquired . <p> " A hooker is a whore . A prostitute , for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to take you in , but first I 've got to read you your rights . This is serious business . " <p> He read him his rights in a monotone . He took out his cell phone and began to speak rapidly . He was being transferred from one office to another . With each transfer , Chaim 's voice became more panicky . He sounded flustered and confused and irate . He did not enjoy his last conversation . Abruptly , he completed his call . Without any explanation , he turned to his two visitors and said , " I 'm ordered to deliver you to the Prime Minister 's residence . " <p> They entered an oversized office that contained a large number of archaeological millennia-old vessels . Seated at a large relic-strewn desk was the Prime Minister , who rose to greet them . <p> " Welcome , " he said , and was about to say more but he was interrupted by Elijah , who pointed to an ancient urn on the Prime Minister 's desk . <p> " You should not have this relic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Kohane ( a member of the priestly class ) and this relic is a Phoenician funerary urn and should not be in the same room with you . It will render you unclean . " <p> The Prime Minister ignored Elijah 's warning and said to him smilingly . <p> " I assume you are Elijah , the alleged prophet . " <p> Elijah responded . " I am Elijah . I am he and I have come here to announce the arrival of the Messiah as I have been instructed to do . " <p> " Instructed ? By whom , may I ask ? " <p> " By God , of course . " <p> " Of course , " the Prime Minister repeated . He cleared his throat . <p> " We are honored that you have come to Israel to do what it is you have to do . But first I must ask you . Do you have any identification ? Some sort of document or license , with a photograph of course . " <p> Elijah replied . " You must realize , Prime Minister @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for photographs or identification . We all know each other . For millennia , I would say . " <p> " Of course . Of course , Elijah . But we are a nation of laws and I am required to abide by them . You understand that , I am sure . " <p> " Naturally , Prime Minister . I would imagine , however , that because of the grave nature of our visit you would choose to bend your laws and dispense with the legal folderol , " Elijah said . <p> " Perhaps we can in this instance , " the Prime Minister said . <p> " Thank you , Prime Minister . " <p> " I must say , Elijah , you look every bit like Elijah the Prophet should . You have a flowing white beard , you speak well , you have a commanding presence . I confess that I can not identify the fabric of your garment . " <p> Elijah replied . " My garment is made with haircloth , which I prefer . And the girdle is leather . " <p> @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ <p> " Yes it is . " <p> " And does n't it attract flies ? " <p> " No , Mr. Prime Minister . Bees . " <p> " Bees . That 's very interesting . We are the land of milk and honey , you know . " <p> " I believe these are God 's words . From Genesis actually . Shall I quote you the verse , Prime Minister ? " <p> The Prime Minister answered . " That will not be necessary . " He turned to the Messiah . <p> " Welcome to Israel , madam . I hope you will enjoy your stay here . " <p> " Thank you , Prime Minister , " she acknowledged in a sweet and musical voice . " I would not characterize my presence here as a stay . " <p> " Whatever , madam , " he answered . " Call it a visit or a sojourn , to use the biblical term . " He changed the subject . <p> " If I may say so , madam , I greatly admire your garment . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I ask you why you selected green ? <p> " I call it misty green , Prime Minister . I thought it would go well with the purple of my gown . " <p> " It does indeed . " He hesitated for an instant . " I must be candid with you , madam . Your presence here today comes as a complete surprise to me . When I announce your arrival at a special press conference later this afternoon my constituents will be stupefied , if I may use the term , that you have finally arrived and that the Messiah , the anointed of God , is , how shall I put it , a member of the feminine community . A woman , I mean . " <p> Elijah interrupted . " No press conference . That is my final word . " He stopped briefly and then said : <p> " Prime Minister , let us have no circumlocution . The Messiah , the anointed of God , is a woman and should not be referred to obliquely as a member of the female genus . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if you will excuse the vulgarity . Is that clear , Prime Minister ? " <p> " Yes , of course , " he mumbled . <p> " And we will make the announcement of the arrival of the Messiah in the manner selected by God , " Elijah said . <p> " And how will that be , Elijah ? " <p> " With this , " Elijah said and withdrew from his cloak a shofar . " I will trumpet forth one long drawn-out blast of the shofar and God 's world on earth will change . It will signal the coming of the Messianic age . Is that clear , Prime Minister ? " <p> " Not exactly , Elijah . There are complications . " <p> " Complications ? " Elijah asked . <p> " I 'm afraid so . " <p> " And they are , Prime Minister ? <p> " The Rabbis , " he answered softly . <p> " The Rabbis , you say . " <p> " Yes , Elijah . You see , we are a democratic government . We rule by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Religious Party , which is headed by the Chief Rabbi . Whatever we do that is religious connected must have the approval of the Chief Rabbi . Is that clear , Elijah ? " <p> " Yes , " Elijah answered . <p> " The arrival of the Messiah falls eminently into that category , " the Prime Minister said . <p> " So what you are saying , Prime Minister , is that we must meet first with the Chief Rabbi . " <p> " That is true . " <p> " In that case , Mr. Prime Minister , would you arrange without delay the appearance of the Chief Rabbi . Heaven is not happy with the delay . " <p> The Prime Minister said rather smugly , " I have taken the liberty of summoning the Chief Rabbi and his spokesman . They will be here shortly . In the meantime , may I offer you and your companion a cup of tea or some other beverage ? " <p> " Thank you , no , Prime Minister , " Elijah answered . <p> " And the lady @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you , Prime Minister , " she answered with a smile . " We take our nourishment in the evening . " <p> The Prime Minister 's assistant entered the office and announced that the Chief Rabbi and his spokesman had arrived . They were ushered in and seated . The Prime Minister was about to introduce his visitors to the Chief Rabbi and his assistant , but the Rabbi raised his right hand as if to indicate it was not necessary . He looked directly at Elijah and said in a firm voice , " You say you are Elijah . Elijah the Prophet . " <p> " That is true , Jacob , " Elijah answered . <p> " You call me Jacob though we have never met . " <p> " That should not surprise you . " <p> " Why ? " <p> " I am a prophet . I have known you for a thousand years . " <p> The Chief Rabbi squirmed in his seat . He seemed uncomfortable . " If I may say so , you are a master of trickery . But @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be Elijah the Prophet ? " <p> " I am he , " Elijah answered . <p> " You are mentioned in Scripture as wearing a garment made of haircloth . " <p> " I am wearing it now as you can see , " Elijah said . <p> " You claim that you are present at every bris . " <p> " True . I was at yours , Rabbi . Shall I describe what I saw ? " <p> " That will not be necessary . " He continued , " And you claim you attend every Seder on Passover and that there is a Cup for Elijah waiting on the table for you ? " the Chief Rabbi asked . <p> " Exactly . I was at yours . If I may say so , Rabbi , the wine at your table was not fully matured . " <p> " That is true , " the Chief Rabbi admitted . He pressed on . <p> " It is written that Elijah was fed by ravens and ate grasshoppers for sustenance . " <p> " That is something of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I was a fugitive at the time , you understand . " <p> " Does that complete your biography ? " <p> " No , Rabbi . There is more . " <p> " More ? " <p> Elijah answered very leisurely . " You know , of course , that I never died . I was taken alive to God in heaven in a chariot of fire . " <p> The Chief Rabbi snorted . " Everyone knows that . It is in our Scriptures . Kings 2 , Chapter 2 , Verse 7 . But it was not you . " <p> Elijah interrupted . " Verse 12 actually . " <p> " Perhaps , " the Chief Rabbi said . " You are standing on a mountain of lies . All lies . " <p> " You doubt what is written in Scriptures , Rabbi ? " <p> " Of course not . You are the fabricator . " <p> " You want proof , Rabbi , " Elijah said . <p> With a single movement , he opened his haircloth robe and revealed a torso that was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to be unhealed and splattered . It was a charred body . <p> The Rabbi averted the sight and Elijah refastened his cloak . The Chief Rabbi was pale and shaken . He appeared to be on the verge of collapse . His assistant asked for water and a damp cloth . He swabbed his superior 's brow and in a short while , the Rabbi appeared normal . <p> " What happened to your body ? " he said softly . <p> " I was on fire in the chariot , " Elijah answered , " I missed a step and fell directly into the flames . The horses too were afire , you know . " <p> The Chief Rabbi turned to the Prime Minister and told him that he was ready to interview " the other one . " <p> " I assume you mean me . I am the Messiah , the anointed one , " the Messiah said softly . <p> " She is the one , " the Rabbi said . <p> The Messiah addressed the Chief Rabbi . " Elijah and I are pleased @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The Chief Rabbi was silent . His assistant said , " Thank you . " <p> Elijah turned to the Prime Minister . " Is the Rabbi unable to speak ? " <p> The Prime Minister replied . " He does not speak directly to women . " <p> " Why ? " Elijah asked . <p> " They say it is forbidden , " the Prime Minister said . <p> " By whom ? " Elijah asked . <p> " By rabbinical tradition . " <p> " What about God 's tradition ? " the Messiah asked . <p> The assistant answered for the Rabbi . " We believe that rabbinical tradition is God 's tradition . " <p> The Messiah said with a laugh . " Did God tell you that directly ? " <p> " Of course not , young woman . " <p> " Then how do you know ? " <p> " Through our interpretation of Scripture . " <p> She continued . " And you say that God revealed that you may not speak directly to a woman . " <p> This brought a rejoinder @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ assistant , " Tell her that it is not that we may not speak to a woman but that we should not speak to women directly . " <p> " Why ? " the Messiah asked . <p> " Because they may not be worthy , or they may be unclean , or they may not be intelligent enough , " the Chief Rabbi answered her directly . <p> " I see . " She smiled archly at the Rabbi and addressed him directly . " Do you think I am the Messiah ? " <p> " Of course not , " he replied emphatically . <p> " Why do you say that , Rabbi ? " <p> " Because it is ludicrous to think that God would make a woman the Messiah . " <p> She turned to the assistant . " Do you know the meaning of the word Messiah ? " <p> " Of course . It means ' the anointed . ' " <p> " Do you believe I was anointed by God ? " <p> " Of course not . Ridiculous , " he answered . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ " Would you permit your assistant to feel my head ? " <p> " Why should he feel your head ? " <p> " Because God has anointed me . " <p> " You are ridiculous and brazen , young woman . " <p> " My hair is still redolent with oil . It is a mixture of myrrh and virgin olives . And all the ingredients are kosher , I assure you . " <p> " What is myrrh ? " the Chief Rabbi asked . <p> " An ointment , " she said . " It is a kind of incense . " <p> " Then I 'm sure it is not kosher , " the Rabbi said . <p> The assistant whispered in his ear . He turned to the Prime Minister . " My assistant tells me it is allowable . " <p> " In that case , Rabbi . Would you wish to touch my hair ? " she asked . <p> " I must refuse , madam . " <p> " Of course you must . " She paused and smiled at the Chief Rabbi @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ <p> " What proof , young woman ? " <p> " The white donkey which was led by Elijah the Prophet . Elijah 's strange garb , the haircloth robe , his shofar which will change the world . And of course myself who will bring you there . All this was ordained centuries ago , Rabbi . Do not trifle with the inevitable . " <p> " This is the first time I have heard of the presence of a white donkey . I would like to examine him . Where is he ? " the Chief Rabbi demanded . <p> " He is in the custody of the Police , Rabbi , " the Prime Minister answered . " We can bring him here , , if you wish . " <p> " I do indeed , " the Chief Rabbi answered gruffly . <p> " You may interview the donkey , Rabbi . He speaks , " Elijah said . <p> " Does he speak our language ? " the Rabbi asked . <p> " He speaks all languages . " <p> " All languages , you say @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ " Elijah said impatiently . <p> " I will want to interview him , " the Rabbi said . <p> " Why ? " the Messiah asked . <p> " I love all animals . Please bring him to me , " the Chief Rabbi said emphatically . <p> Both Elijah and the Messiah were silent . It seemed as if they were listening intently to some faraway voice . They looked at each other and Elijah turned to the Prime Minister and the Chief Rabbi . <p> " Gentlemen , we have received word from God that the Messiah 's mission has been cancelled . Scrubbed , as they say in your country . And I must say that God is somewhat miffed at the lack of faith of you people down here . We are being recalled and will return at a more suitable occasion . We have other fish to fry you know . " <p> " Other fish to fry ? What does that mean , Elijah ? " <p> " Think about it . You 'll have plenty of time . " <p> The Rabbi pondered @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not about fish . It must be some form of revelation from God . " <p> The Messiah turned to bid farewell to the hosts , but Elijah interrupted . " Transportation is on its way to bring us back , Messiah . We must not be late . " <p> Almost immediately , a fiery chariot drawn by a pair of flaming horses landed in the Prime Minister 's garden . With them was the white donkey , who was chattering away with fiery steeds . <p> Elijah assisted the Messiah into the chariot and then tripped as he stepped into the flaming vehicle . He gasped and his last words were , " Oh , God . Here I go again . " <p> The Prime Minister , who was standing close by , swore he heard a voice coming from the heavens . It sounded very much like the word " idiot , " but he could have been mistaken . But they all agreed that there was a slight barbecue aroma wafting through the Prime Minister 's garden . <p> Sidebar 
##1012962 How the people of the Cherokee Nation became exiles in their own land <p> Prologue Narrator A : Again and again , rifle bulls struck cabin doors . The doors burst open , and soldiers with bayonets barged in . People at their meals , including children and the elderly , were forced from their homes and cursed at . Farmers in the field were dragged away , unable to join their families . Narrator B : In he spring and summer of 1838 , life changed forever for the Cherokee Indians of the American Southeast . Narrator C : President Andrew Jackson had already forced some Cherokee Io give up their ancestral lands for territory far to the west , in what is now Oklahoma ( see map . 20 ) . Beginning in May 1838 , the U.S. Army drove the remaining families from their homes . How could this happen in a country dedicated to the rights of its citizens ? SCENE ONE Narrator O : Our story begins in 1829 , when the United States is a country of 24 states , lying mainly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ its boundaries-and white settlers are hungry for land . The Cherokee of the Southeast have tried to adapt to the newcomers . Many are farmers and live in wood or log houses . The most prosperous Cherokee wear the fashionable clothes of white city dwellers , ride in handsome carriages , and live in two-story plantation houses . Narrator E : On territory granted to them by treaties with the U.S. , the Cherokee create their own government and constitution , modeled on those of the U.S. The heart of Cherokee Nation lies in Georgia . In their capital of New Echota ( EE-choh-tuh ) , Principal Chief John Ross meets with his adviser Major Ridge , Ridge 's son John , and Elias Boudinot . The men are worried . John Rosa : Bad news . Whites have run off with more of our farmers " horses . Major Ridge : The trouble has grown worse since the Georgia Legislature claimed our lands last year . Whites think they can steal from us , and the U.S. government refuses to honor its treaties with the Cherokee . John Ridge : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the war against the Creek . Ca n't you persuade him to protect us ? Major Ridge : I do n't know . Long ago we buried the tomahawk and accepted the white people . I 'm proud that you have been educated in their schools and speak their language so well . What else can we do ? Ross : Whatever it is , I am determined that it will be peaceful . We can not go back to the days of war . Narrator F : There is a loud noise outside . The men rush to see what is happening . A horse-drawn wagon carrying three white settlers rides recklessly through town . Cherokee Woman ( shouting after them ) : Bad men ! Watch where you 're going ! Roes : They heard that gold was discovered here . Now settlers are pouring in . John Ridge : Another reason to get rid of us . We must stop them . Ellas Boudlnot : We should organize and force Georgia to honor our treaties with Washington . Narrator A : The Cherokee file the first of two @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the state honor the federal government 's treaties with the Cherokee . Both suits will go all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court . John Ridge : However long it takes , I am confident that we will prevail . SCIiNlE TWO Narrator B : President Andrew Jackson intends to " remove " the Indians to unsettled lands west of the Mississippi River . At Jackson 's urging , Congress passes the Indian Removal Act in May 1830 . Still , the Cherokee hope to win in court . In February 1832 , John Ridge and Boudinot receive news from a white supporter . . . Supporter : Did you hear ? The Supreme Court has spoken ! Chief Justice Marshall and his Court ruled that Georgia 's laws are unconstitutional . Boudinot : At last we have won ! John Ridge : Our long wait has paid off . Narrator C : But soon thereafter , Ridge hears disturbing news from a friend in Washington , Friend : I 'm sorry , John . President Jackson will not make Georgia obey the Court 's order . Narrator D : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ John Ridge : Mr. President , the Supreme Court has ruled in our favor . But will the United States government back us ? Andrew Jackson : Out of respect for your father , I will tell you bluntly : No . The people of Georgia want your land and , in the end , they will get it . John Ridge : But our treaties Jackson : Look . John . In the vacant lands of the West , the Cherokee Nation can grow to be the equal of the U.S. But if you try to stay here , your people will risk utter destruction . I beg you to go home and convince them . It is for your own good . John Ridge : Sir , you have put me and my people in a terrible situation . Narrator E : Ridge leaves in despair . He soon comes to realize that the Cherokee have nowhere to turn . SCENE THREE Narrator F : Months later , Cherokee leaders meet in Red Clay , Tennessee . By now , John Ridge believes that the Cherokee must agree to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ihe white man 's deal and leave our land " Those are Ihe words of a traitor ! John Ridge : And yours are the words of a fool . We have to make the best deal we can with Washington . Otherwise , Georgia will surely seize our land . Ross : We must fight on ! In the Court 's ruling we have a strong weapon-the strongest in this land . John Ridge : Your head is hard , and so is your heart ! President Jackson will not enforce the Court 's ruling . You are giving our people false hope . Ross ( turning to Major Ridge ) : And you , old friend ? Where do you stand ? Major Ridge : My heart grieves to say this , but I believe my son is right . Narrator A : The dispute causes a bitter split among the Cherokee . The Ridges and Boudinot form a faction called the Treaty Party . Most Cherokee stay with Ross 's National Party , which opposes removal . President Jackson refuses to deal with Ross and his group . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at New Echota to sign a new treaty with Jackson 's representative . John C. Schermerhorn : My friends , the Great Father , President Jackson , has been more than generous . With this Treaty of New Echota , the U.S. government will give the Cherokee 5 million dollars ! In return , you agree to trade your land here for an equal amount in Indian Territory . Major Ridge ( to his son ) : Look around . Most of our people have stayed away . They want no part of this new treaty . John Ridge : Ross thinks he can beat the U.S. government . We must save as many of our people as we can . Major Ridge : Yes , but by signing this treaty , I fear I am also signing my death sentence . SCENE FOUR Narrator B : By late 1837 , the Ridges and about 2,000 Cherokee have already moved west , to land granted them by the Treaty of New Echota . Then , on May 18 , 1830 , a shock comes to Ross and the many Cherokee who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a cabin door ) : Open up ! By order of the U.S. government , you must leave this place today . Cherokee Girl : Mother , I 'm scared ! Cherokee Boy : What 's happeningWhy are soldiers here ? Cherokee Father : Get out of my home ! Narrator C : Cherokee are thrown into temporary camps without enough food and water . Then they are forced to move west . Some are packed into disease-ridden boats or railroad boxcars . Most must travel by foot . In winter , the journey becomes more difficult . Cherokee Mother : Why have we stopped moving ? Cherokee Father : There is ice on the river and no way to gel a boat across . We must wait for a thaw . Cherokee Girl : Mother , that man is just lying there in the snow . He will die if we do n't help him . Cherokee Boy : Many people have given up . They have no blankets or shoes . Cherokee Mother : Set your face to the sun , children . We must look to the future @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of more than 800 miles takes several months . Of the estimated 18,000 Cherokee who set out in 1838 , at least 4,000 die . One of them is John Ross 's wife , Quatie , who had given her blanket to a sick child . Narrator E : The survivors come to call their path the Trail Where They Cried . We know it as the Trail of Tears . SCENE FIVE Narrator F : As Major Ridge predicted . signing the treaty proves fatal to him . On June 1839 , Ridge , his son John , and Elias Boudinot are all assassinated by opponents of the Treaty Party . Narrator A : Removal to Indian Territory does not solve the Indians " conflicts with the U.S. Soon , the country will grow to surround and claim much of their new land . But Jackson 's prediction is also right . Removal allows the Cherokee to avoid destruction and retain their identity as a tribe . The misery it caused will become another part of the Cherokee heritage . -Bryan Brown Sidebar Characters John Ross , Principal Chief of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Cherokee leader ; Major Ridge 's son Cherokee Woman Supporter Friend Elias Boudinot ( BQO-dih-noh , editor of The Cherokee Phoenix ; John Ridge 's cousin Andrew Jackson , President of the United States John C. Schermerhorn ( SKUR-mur-horn , President Jackson 's representative to the Cherokee Soldier Cherokee Father A Cherokee Mother Cherokee Girl Cherokee Boy Narrators A-F Sidebar Think About It 1 . Do you think the Treaty Party made the best decision under the circumstances ? Why or why not ? 2 . Was President Jackson justified in removing the Cherokee ? Explain . UNALIIENABLIE RIGHTS ? For nearly two centuries , Native Americans did not have the full benefits of U.S. citizenship . 1789 : The U.S. Constitution gives Congress power to " regulate Commerce ... with the Indian Tribes . " Indians are not counted as U.S. citizens . 1887 : Congress passes the Dawes Act . It is partly an attempt to break up Indian tribes in the West . The law offers citizenship to every Indian who moves off Indian land " and has adopted the habits of civilized life . " 1890 : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ citizenship , as immigrants do . 1924 : The Indian Citizenship Act extends citizenship and voting rights to all Native Americans . Some states continue to have laws that discriminate against Indians . 1957 : Utah repeals reverses ) a state lawthat says Indians living on reservations can not vote . Utah is the last state to eliminate such discriminatory voting practices . 1968 : The Indian Civil Rights Act gives Indians protections against theirtribal governments similarto those of the U.S. Constitution 's Bill of Rights . <p> 
##1012964 With its depiction of warring ethnic factions and a tiny , oil-rich nation half way across the world , Gary Shteyngart 's second novel might have been ripped from the headlines . But with a title like Absurdistan , a dazzling , sardonic style , and a plot involving multinational corporations like Halliburton , it 's clear this writer has a wide range of satiric targets ... in Leningrad in 1972 , Gary Shteyngart is the author of The Russian Debutante 's Handbook which won the NFJC 's 2003 Samuel Goldberg &; Sons Foundation Prize for Emerging Jewish Writers . His fiction and essays have appeared in The New Yorker , Granta , GQ , The New York Times Magazine and many other publications <p> ( ProQuest Information and Learning : ... denotes obscured text omitted . ) When I graduated from Accidental College with all the honors they could bestow on a fat Russian Jew , I decided that , like many young people , I should move to Manhattan . American education aside , I was still a Soviet citizen at heart , afflicted with a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at the topography of Manhattan , I naturally settled my gaze on the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center , those emblematic honeycombed 110-story giants that glowed white gold in the afternoon sun . They looked to me like the promise of socialist realism fulfilled , boyhood science fiction extended into near-infinity . You could say I was in love with them . As soon as I found out that I could n't rent an apartment in the actual World Trade Center , I decided to settle for an entire floor in a nearby turn-of-the-century skyscraper . My loft had a startling view of Miss Liberty greening the harbor on one side and the World Trade Center obliterating the rest of the skyline on another . I spent my evenings hopping from one end of my lily pad to the other : as the sun fell on top of the statue , the Twin Towers became a fascinating checkerboard of lit and unlit windows , looking , after several puffs of marijuana , like a Mondrian painting come to life . To complement my sleek art deco apartment , I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of a certain munificent bank . The whole thing was set up through the career office at Accidental College , which specialized in finding socially uplifting and highly unpaid internships for young gentlemen and ladies . And so every morning , around ten , my morning gown bedecked with glistening medals from the Accidental College Department of Multicultural Studies ( my academic major ) , I would roll over three blocks to the bank 's filigreed skyscraper and perform my filing duties for a few hours . My colleagues regarded me as something of an oddity , but nothing compared to the young man who dressed up as a hamster during lunch and wept violently in the bathroom for exactly one hour and fifteen minutes ( a fellow alumnus of Accidental , needless to say ) . Whenever the wisdom of having a sleepy Russian Gargantua clattering around the already tight quarters came up , I merely had to say something like " Malevich ! " or " Tarkofsky ! , " letting the reflected sheen of my countrymen 's accomplishments glisten off my Multicultural Studies medals . Eventually the hamster @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a festive affair . Free of having to support their families , they mostly have gay parties on rooftops where they reflect at length upon their quirky electronic childhoods and sometimes kiss each other on the lips and neck . My own life was similarly sweet and free of complexities , with only one need unaccounted for : I had no girlfriend , no buxom hardworking ethnic girl to urge me off the couch , no exotic Polynesian to fill my monochrome life with her browns and yellows . So every weekend night I would trudge up to these rooftops where Accidental College graduates would huddle together next to groups of students from similar colleges , their conversations forming barbed networks of privileged fact and speculation stretching from the Napa Valley to Gstaad . I basked in this information , making witty observations and absurdist jokes , but my real purpose was more traditional : I was looking for a woman who would accept me for who I was , for every last pound of me , and for the crushed purple insect between my legs . There were n't any @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . " Snack Daddy ! " the boys and girls would shout as I ascended the narrow stairways to their rooftops . Back then the girls drank buckets of bitter champagne through straws , and the boys swilled forty-ounce containers of malt liquor , wiping their mouths with the back of their skinny ties . We were trying to be as " urban " as possible without passing into caricature , our eyes briefly skirting the darkened constellations of housing projects pressed menacingly against the distant horizons . I would stand to the side of the snack table , letting my fat settle around me in protective layers as I jabbed a long carrot into a bowl of spinach feta dip . The girls regarded me as a safe confidant , as if my weight had rendered me a beloved uncle . They hoisted buckets of champagne to my lips while complaining of their passing boyfriends , those diffident young schlemiels who were also my close friends but whom I would readily betray for just one occidental kiss tasting of spinach and feta . Filled with champagne , I would return @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my clothes , and press myself against the windows , letting the city lights flicker deep inside me . On occasion I would wail this deep-sea arctic wail invented specifically for my exile . I cupped what remained of my khui and cried for my papa five thousand miles to the east and north . How could I have abandoned the only person who had ever truly loved me ? The Neva River sprang , unprompted , from the Gulf of Finland , the Nile from its Delta , the Hudson from some prosperous American source , and I sprang from my father . Feeling lonely , I would talk out loud to the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center , which I had nicknamed Lionya and Gavril , begging those two iconic hulks to make me more like them : lean , glassy-eyed , silent , and invincible . Sometimes , when a helicopter passed overhead , I would get on my knees and beg to be rescued - to be hoisted beyond the party-filled rooftops and billowing deck umbrellas onto a secret landscape , an inverted New York @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ water towers and mansard roofs striking through the center of the earth , much as I wished to strike between the sweaty thighs of my former classmates-those infinitely clever and unflappable girls carved out of soft California rock and Roman tufa who breathed more inspiration into my life than all the pale Marxian offerings of the Accidental College Library combined . From Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngart . Copyright c 2006 by Gary Shteyngart . Published by arrangement with Random House , an imprint of Random House Publishing Group , a division of Random House , Inc. 
##1012965 The heroine of Rachel Kadish 's second novel , university professor Tracy Farber , is 33 and single . Make that happily single . But when a romance with an education policy consultant hits a rough patch , Tracy 's wry equanimity takes a tumble . Rachel Kadish is the author of a novel , From A Sealed Room , and her short fiction and essays have appeared in Story , Zoetrope , Tin House , and the anthologies Lost Tribe : Jewish Fiction from the Edge and The Modern Jewish Girl 's Guide to Guilt . She was awarded the Koret Young Writer on Jewish Themes Award in 2004 . <p> There it is . Right there on the novel 's first page . Right there in the first line , staring the reader in the face . A lie . Nothing against Tolstoy . I 'm an admirer . I simply happen to believe he 's responsible for the most widely quoted whopper in world literature . Happy families are all alike ; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way . Literary types swoon @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have they considered the philosophy they 're embracing ? If Tolstoy is to be taken at his word , a person must be unhappy in order to be interesting . If this is true , then certain other things follow . Happy people have no stories you might possibly want to hear . In order to be happy , you must whitewash your personality ; steamroll your curiosities , your irritations , your honesty and indignation . You must shed idiosyncratic dreams and march in lockstep with the hordes of the content . Happiness , according to this witticism of Tolstoy 's , is not a plant with spikes and gnarled roots ; it is a daisy in a field of a thousand daisies . It is for lovers of kitsch and those with subpar intelligence . Yolanda would say I 'm taking this far too personally . Yolanda thinks any idea that keeps a person home working on a Saturday night is hideous . Also , that I need to start wearing tighter clothing if I want my weekends to headline something more exciting than collating . But even she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ swallowing whole there 's nothing more likely to enrage Yolanda than the topic of happiness . For people who claim to want happiness , we Americans spend a lot of time spinning yarns about its opposite . Even the optimistic novels end the minute the good times get rolling . Once characters enter the black box of happiness , no one wants to hear a peep out of them . I 've learned exactly how hard it is to find a good nontragic American novel on academia 's approved-reading list . I struggle every semester to design my Modern American Lit syllabus with just one plotline that does n't make you want to jump off a bridge . Paine 's wish that " the New World regenerate the Old " notwithstanding , the tragic European tradition was hardly o'erthrown on our shores . Hester Prynne does n't make out too well in the end , does she ? Ethan Frome and poor Billy Budd and just about everyone Faulkner or O'Connor or Porter ever met are doomed . Even sensuous Janie in Their Eyes Were Watching God goes through three husbands @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lot . Moral of the story ? Never trust joy . ( Do not ever say this aloud on a conference panel . Literature professors do n't , ever , call books depressing . The correct word is " disquieting . " ) Let me be clear : some of my best friends are tragic novels . But someone 's got to call it like it is : Why the taboo ? What 's so unspeakable about happiness ? I think people - and I do n't mean just Americans - are terrified of happiness . And that 's why Tolstoy 's gotten away with that cheap shot all these years . But he 's got to be wrong . If happiness - let 's say , for hypothetical example , an honest , requited , passionate love - is really the death of individuality , why would anyone want it ? What I want to know is this : Can the American story have an ending that 's both honest and happy ? Can we ditch the venerable idea that life is meaningless without tragedy - that every one of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , with no option to check the box marked " other ' ? Or are the doom-mongers right ? I say there 's hope . And I do n't just mean early Mark Twain . Look for the subversive plot twist , the wink at the bottom of the page , the sly , stubborn sidestepping of doom . I want to write about what Washington Irving implies about happiness ; and Thoreau and Whitman , Eaton and Welty , Paley , Bambara , even Vonnegut . There 's a trail of bread crumbs to follow . There are American writers who dare venture into the treacherous waters of fulfillment . Most of them do it stealthily , as though it 's imperative not to get caught talking about joy . I 'm saving this , of course , for my post-tenure book . I 'm not naive . Talking about happiness is career suicide . I 'll be accused of championing pap - of responding to a book not as a critic , whose role is to dissect , but from my kishkas . Add to my crime the sin @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are n't supposed to address overarching concepts . We 're supposed to locate within context , place within tradition , and say as little as possible along the way about the original texts . One is not to cut a skylight in the intellectual house ; one is to rearrange a few sticks of furniture in the basement . Do more , and you 're accused of trying to be a public intellectual . When I first understood how mincing the academic conversation could be , how capable of silencing a novel 's heartbeat , I nearly turned tail . For three weeks I sat in a graduate school seminar on Moby Dick , no one mentioned the whale . I circled job listings . But I did n't leave school . I became , somehow , more determined to become a professor - a tenured one , able to forge my own path . I learned , when the occasion absolutely demanded it , to keep my own counsel , to stay mum about the leviathan lurking beneath the refracting surface of every line . I even developed a grudging @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pretentious , but it serves a function . It 's the antiseptic garb a surgeon dons before she cuts , for the life-and-death drama of the operating room demands that she be utterly dispassionate her keen eyes and masked face inspiring our trust in the sureness of her hands , their innocence of the germs of easy emotionality . Still . Upon accepting my faculty appointment , I made a private vow never to say " simulacrum " if " cheap imitation " will suffice . Never to decry the dumbing down of American culture while smarting up my own ideas with showy verbiage . Never to say " debative quality " when I mean " argument , " or hedge with " it might be said when what I mean is , I believe . Each morning I wake to the blandishments of my clock radio , set to a pop station I 'd never tolerate in anything but semiconsciousness . I dress , stuff my briefcase with the papers stacked on my bedside table , and walk twenty blocks to the building the English Department shares with Classics , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ home : its peculiar scrollwork and mustard yellow faade a thumb in the eye of the stately street ; its narrow elevator jammed with both faculty and students , mocking the professorial discomfort with intimacy . Anticipating the elevator 's closing doors , I quickstep into the building , but not before I 'm handed a flash of myself in the half-dome security mirror over the door : a somewhat lanky figure in muted professional attire ; pale curls restrained in a ponytail ; an unadorned , up-peering face that startles me with its gameness . I sit among books all day , lecture from them , underline their pages emphatically . Between classes I comb the library for a spark of insight left buried in the stacks by a thinker I 'll never meet . You get used to it : a life mining the ore of literature . It 's not as airless as it sounds . Anyone who thinks books are sterile objects has n't really drawn breath in a library . The older volumes are autumnal , evocative of smoke and decayed leaves . The newer ones @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a sound , too - turn their pages for enough hours and years and you start to rely on it , just as people who live by the shore assimilate the rhythm of the waves : the sweep and ripple marking the end of a page , a sound that seems to be made by the turning of your thoughts rather than the movement of your hand . Evenings find me at home on my sofa in sweatpants and threadbare socks , nursing a soda and doling out advice . Yolanda , my old Seattle high school classmate , now fellow New Yorker , phones with bulletins from the field : tales of relationships gone bust . It 's my job to be shocked . I 'm careful to share her outrage as long as she needs before helping her sift the love-wreck for salvage . Later at night my cousin Gabby phones from California to ask whether I think it 's okay to date a guy thirteen years older ; six inches shorter ; without job or hair or visa ; with accent , or wife , or laboratory results @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my toes through fabric worn to cheesecloth , I opine . Through relinquishing desire , say the Buddhists , one attains understanding . And through having no romantic life of my own , I 've discovered my calling . Tracy Farber : lit critic by day ; by night dispenser of romantic advice . How did this befall our dashing heroine ? Excerpt from Tolstoy Lied : A Love Story by Rachel Kadish . Copyright c 2006 by Rachel Kadish . Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company . All rights reserved . 
##1012966 Sometimes , the hard way is the best way . <p> ( ProQuest Information and Learning : ... denotes formulae omitted . ) Scene 1 Narrator 1 : At the end of the school day , the last bell rings . Narrator 2 : Luke is talking to Sarah in the hallway . He is very angry . Sarah : Do n't yell at me , Luke . I wo n't stand for it . Narrator 3 : Luke slams his fist against a locker . Luke : When I asked you to go to dinner with me on Friday , I meant tonight ! Not next week ! Sarah : You did n't make that clear . Why are you so angry ? Luke : IVe got to go to work . Will I see you later or not ? Sarah : No , I do n't think so . Maybe at the pep rally tonight . Narrator 1 : Sarah walks away , and Luke once again pounds the locker before he turns away . Scene 2 Narrator 2 : Luke heads to his job . @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : In the carving shed lie several totem poles in various stages of completion . Luke 's boss , Sam , is working on one . Sam is a tribal elder . He looks up when Luke walks in . Sam : You 're late . Luke : I know . I had to talk with my girl . We had a fight . Sam : Relax . You 've got it easy . When I was a kid around here , there was so much hatred toward Native Americans that I could n't even play sports . My buddies and I had to sit on the sidelines . Luke : I know it was bad , but times have changed . I 'm the star of the track team ! I like that people recognize me . I like that major universities want me to go to their schools . And I like that the prettiest girl in town is crazy about me . Sam : I thought you had a fight . Luke : I 'll win her back . Maybe I 'll send her some flowers or something @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you something . Narrator 1 : Luke walks over to Sam . He is pointing at a crooked line in the totem pole . Sam : Do you see this line ? Narrator 2 : Luke traces a line in the wood with his finger . Luke : Oh no . Sam : That 's right . You carved into this line when you should have carved all the way to here . Narrator 3 : Luke opens his mouth to speak but Sam stops him . Sam : Do n't say it . I 'm tired of your temper . We 've got the tribal chairman coming by tomorrow morning , and this needs to be taken care of by then . Luke : But this will take hours . Sam : That 's right . And I 'm sick . I 'm going home . Luke : But 1 have the pep rally to go to tonight . Sam : You might make it if you work steadily starting right now . Luke : But why ca n't we paint over it ? Who would really know ? Sam @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Sam leaves . As soon as he is gone , Luke leaves for the flower shop . Scene 3 Mrs. Goldwyn : Luke ! I 'll bet you 're here to send flowers to that pretty girlfriend of yours . Luke : That 's right . Mr Goldwyn : I think you 're going to win tomorrow , Luke , and then go all the way to the state meet . Luke : Tm going to give it my best ! Narrator 2 : Luke finishes his business and leaves the flower shop . Scene 4 Narrator 3 : Luke runs into his friends Tom and Mary in the parking lot . Tom : Hey , Luke , you 're going to the pep rally tonight , right ? Luke : Maybe . I do n't know . I 've got extra work to do tonight . Mary : You ca n't be serious . Luke , this pep rally is important . You 've got to show up . There 's going to be a bonfire ! Luke : My boss would be really mad . Tom : Why do @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as if you 're working . Then Mary and I will come around and pick you up and drive you to the pep rally . If your boss cruises by , he 'll think you 're there . Mary : Come on , Luke . Tom : Why does it matter anyway ? You can get another job . But you might not ever have another chance to be the star of the whole town ! You can take a power saw to that totem pole to make up for lost time . No one will know you did n't do it by hand . Luke : All right . Come by at 7 . Scene 5 Narrator 1 : Back at the carving shed , Luke works silently by himself . Sarah comes in carrying a bouquet of flowers . She puts them on the desk . Luke : Why did you bring them here ? Sarah : Because flowers wo n't make things better between us . Narrator 2 : Luke is stunned at this turn of events . Luke : Does this mean we 're broken up for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do n't want to be around you until you get your temper under control . Narrator 3 : She walks out , leaving the flowers on the desk . Narrator 1 : Luke runs his finger over the mistakes in the totem pole . He is so mad that he starts to jam the knife into the pole . Narrator 2 : When he realizes he is only creating more damage , he stops . Slowly , he sits down and starts to carve , not noticing that Mary has walked in . Mary : Luke ! Let 's go . Tom 's got the car running . Narrator 3 : Luke stands up and takes a deep breath . Luke : I 'm not coming . Mary : You ca n't be serious ! Luke : I 've already messed up this day . I 'm not going to mess it up any more . Narrator 1 : Mary leaves without another word . Luke goes back to work . Scene 6 Narrator 2 : A short time later , Sam appears at the door . Luke : I thought @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ . Thought I would come see how you 're doing . Luke : Do n't you trust me ? Sam : Are you trustworthy ? Luke : Well , I did go to the flower shop , even though you told me not to . Sarah did n't even like the flowers . She brought them here a few minutes ago . Sam : She 's smarter than you are . Luke : But I did n't go to the pep rally with Mary and Tom . Sam : I saw them drive off just as I drove up . Why did n't you go with them ? Luke : Just seems like the day was going downhill fast . Going to the pep rally was going to make it even worse . Sam : I had a fear you would am out of time and try to use the power saw on the totem pole . Luke : Actually . I thought about doing that . I thought I could fool you and the tribal chairman . Sam : I 'm glad you 're here working . Narrator 3 : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but then turns around . Sam : I 'm proud of you for deciding to stay here . I could help for a bit . Maybe you could get to the tail end of the pep rally . Luke : No , thanks . Actually . I want the chairman to know I did this part of the pole by myself . Narrator 2 : Sam turns to leave . Luke : Hey . Sam . Do you think I could have fooled you and the tribal chairman ' ? Would you have known if it all had n't been done by hand ? Sam : Let 's just say you made the right decision . Narrator 3 : Luke grins and goes back to work . -Rita M. Rogers Sidebar Cast of Characters Narrators 1,2 , and 3-people who tell the story Sarah-Luke 's girlfriend Luke-the town 's track star ; a member of a Native American tribe Sam-a tribal elder ; Luke 's boss ... ... Sidebar KNOW YOUR WORDS The words defined here are in the play above . totem pole ( TOH * tuhm pole ) traditional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ( RE * kig * nize ) to remember seeing or knowing Sidebar KNOW YOUR WORDS ! bonfire ( BON.fi.yur ) an outdoor fire of piled wood bouquet ( boo.KAY ) a bunch of cut flowers " Flowers wo n't make things better between us . " Sidebar Discuss IT ! Why was it important for Luke to carve the totem pole by hand ? WRITE IT ! How can Luke win Sarah back ? Write a new scene for the play . Write the dialogue-the words that Luke and Sarah say to each other . <p> 