No One Must Know (8 page)

“It matters to me,” Mrs. Pearlman said. “Marnie is too young, but you should join the B’Nai B’rith Youth Organization as soon as possible. I’m sure they’re active in this town too.”

“They are,” I said. “Last year, my Sunday school class had a bowling team. We bowled against several BBYO teams at the annual city-wide roll-off. They were pretty good.”

“I like bowling,” Jacob said. “We should go sometime.”

Mrs. Pearlman stared at me solemnly. I noticed that her smile had slipped. “So you go to Sunday school,” she said. “When you mentioned your grandmother’s candlesticks, I was quite certain that you were …” Her voice trailed off.

“Mother, stop it!” Jacob cried.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Fine,” she said before turning back to me. “Which church does your family belong to?” she asked.

“St. Stephen’s Catholic. I go to Sunday school there every week.”

“I see. Your last name is Gal. Very unusual. Where’s your family from?”

“They came from Hungary before I was born.”

She frowned. “Ah, I didn’t realize you were greeners.”

“Greeners?”

“Immigrants, dear.”

Jacob jumped up from the table. “We’ve got to leave or we’ll be late,” he said.

His father checked his watch. “We’ve got lots of time, but I’ll take you now if you want.”

As we left, both Jacob and his father kissed the tips of their fingers and then touched the metal cylinder on the doorpost. Jacob saw me looking at him.

“It’s a mezuzah,” he explained. “Most Jewish homes have one. We always kiss it. It’s supposed to protect our home.”

Fifteen minutes later we were entering the school gym, decorated for the night to resemble a cabaret more than the hall of sweat I was used to. Balloons of different colors and sizes were hanging from the ceiling, and a rainbow of crepe-paper streamers festooned the gray walls. A long table had been set up in a corner. It held bottles of Coca-Cola and bags of potato chips, the student council’s fund-raising project. A professional
DJ sat with his collection of rock ‘n’ roll records and amplifiers by the opposite wall. A pretty woman in a green dress, her hair gathered in loose curls on top of her head, approached us on the arm of a man in a gray suit. It took me a minute to recognize Miss Wilton and Mr. Bradford, our chaperones for the night, in their civilian clothes.

“Time to have fun! Time to dance!” boomed Mr. Bradford.

“You look very pretty, Alexandra,” said Miss Wilton.

“Thank you, Miss Wilton. So do you.”

As we walked over to the refreshment table, Jacob and I passed Christie Sutherland and her clique of the popular kids in our grade. I smiled at her, but she turned her back on me.

“What a snob,” Jacob said.

“She was friendlier at Guides. I don’t know what’s bothering her.”

“Forget about her,” Jacob said as he pulled me onto the dance floor.

Only a few couples were dancing. Most of the kids were standing by the wall – the boys on one side of the room, the girls on the other. Molly and Jean were jiving with each other. Molly waved to me, but Jean seemed to be lost in a world of her own, staring into space and not
meeting my eyes. I moved a little closer to Jacob and rested my head on his shoulder. Everybody can see that he is my boyfriend, my heart sang.

We didn’t leave the dance floor except to buy a bottle of Coke. At ten o’clock, Miss Wilton announced the last dance of the evening. The lights were turned lower and Elvis’s romantic voice crooned “Love Me Tender.” Jacob pulled me even closer to him. I put my arms around his neck and followed his lead, our steps a perfect match. Both of us were lost in a sea of movement, of music, of feelings.

“Alex,” Jacob whispered, “I like you. I really like you a lot.”

“I like you too,” I said.

I
was in my room sweating over the math problems Miss Wilton had assigned for homework when Dad called up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Alexandra! A phone call for you.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. A boy,” he said.

I bounced down the steps two at a time.

“Careful! Watch where you’re going.”

I took the receiver and turned my back on him. He took the hint and went into the living room. I closed the door of the foyer before settling down on the bottom step.

“Hi,” Jacob said. “It’s me.”

A long silence. I searched my brain for a clever comment, but nothing came to mind.

“I’m calling to tell you that I had a good time at the dance the other night,” he said.

“So did I.” Another pause. I seemed to have forgotten all the small talk I’d ever known. “I have a lot of homework,” I finally managed to croak.

“Me too,” Jacob said. “I guess I’ll let you get back to it. I don’t want to keep you.”

“No, no! I
want
to talk to you.”

Relieved laughter on the other end of the line. “That’s good. I was beginning to wonder.” Jacob laughed again. “Alex, would you like to come to the movies with me next Sunday?
G.I. Blues
is playing at the Odeon. It’s supposed to be good.”

I clutched the phone to my chest and did a silent dance. A date! A date! He was actually asking me for a real date.

“Alex? Are you still there? If you don’t want to come, that’s okay too.” He sounded disappointed.

“I’d
love
to come. I heard it’s a fantastic movie. Elvis is my favorite star.” Seeing the picture with Jacob would mean breaking my plans to see it with Jean and Molly, but I knew they would understand.

A sigh of relief blew through the phone lines. “That’s
settled, then. Let’s go to the matinee. I’ll pick you up. If we take the bus, our fathers won’t have to drive us.”

“Okay, but I’ll meet you at the Odeon.” That way I won’t have to introduce you to Mom and Dad, I thought.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind coming to get you.”

“It’s easier to meet you.”

“Okay. I’ll phone you on Saturday to let you know what time. Bye for now.” With a click, he was gone.

I went into the living room to face my parents. They were on the couch, watching some comedians on Ed Sullivan.

Mom moved closer to Dad to make room on the sofa for me. I sat down beside her.

“Who was that on the phone?” Dad asked. “You know I don’t like you to interrupt your homework with phone calls.”

“It was Jacob Pearlman. He asked me to the movies next Sunday.” It all came out in a rush.

“You can’t go,” Mom said instantly.

“Why not? I already went to the dance with him.”

“You’re too young to be alone with a boy.”

“Your mother is right,” Dad said. “You’re not going on a date at your age.”

“I’m almost fourteen!”

“It’s out of the question.”

Mom was silent, her face pale.

“Mom,” I beseeched her. “I’m not a baby. Please let me go!”

“It’s not only that you’re young. The boy is …”

“Is what?”

No answer from her.

I took a deep breath to get my voice under control and turned to Dad again. Forcing myself to speak quietly, I said, “It’s not like we’re going out at night. We’re going to the matinee. Please, please let me go.”

“Haven’t we made our feelings clear?” Dad asked, his voice rising in frustration. “It’s useless to talk about it any more. You’re
not
going. End of discussion.”

I turned to Mom once more. “Please, Mom. Let me go.”

She didn’t look at me. “You heard your father.”

I jumped up from the couch and rushed to the door. “I
will
go out with him! You can’t stop me!” I cried, slamming the door behind me as loudly as possible.

The uniformed usher led us to our seats at the Odeon Theater. I sat down and took the tub of popcorn out of Jacob’s hand before he slid into the seat next to mine. A moment of awkward silence followed. I took a handful of popcorn.

“So is your family settling in?” I finally asked. “Do they like it here?”

“Dad says that business is good, and Marnie has made
some friends. Mom had a tougher time at first, but she joined Hadassah to meet people. She’s never home now.” He sighed. “She makes me so mad sometimes. She keeps complaining that we didn’t buy a house in the North End. She nagged me so much that I joined the BBYO bowling league.”

I took another handful of popcorn. “You’re lucky your mother likes to go out. My mother hasn’t got any friends, and she never goes anywhere by herself. One of us always has to go with her. It’s hard for her. She was in a bad car accident in the old country and almost died from it. There’s a large scar on her arm and one on her leg that never healed properly.” Changing subjects, I asked, “What about you? Do you like it here?”

He shrugged. “The kids at school aren’t very friendly. The boys in my bowling league are much nicer.”

I cleared my throat. “Um, what about me?”

He smiled. “And you too, of course, Alex.”

“I wouldn’t worry. You’ll make friends soon enough. It just takes time.”

“I hope you’re right.”

There was a brief commotion, and then the manager of the Odeon appeared on the narrow stage in front of the tall crimson curtains covering the screen.

“May I have your attention, please,” he cried. The noisy audience fell silent. “It’s time for our weekly draw.
Ten lucky kids will get free Eskimo bars. Get your ticket stubs ready!”

Jacob fished our tickets out of his pocket. “Here, you hold them,” he said.

The manager reached into his box. “The first lucky number is 19122001,” he announced.

It matched the number of one of our tickets. I waved my hands in the air. “We won! We won! Go get it,” I said to Jacob.

“No, you go.” He nudged my arm to lever me out of my seat. “Go, before he gives it to somebody else.”

I made my way to the front of the theater to the sound of loud clapping from Molly and Jean, who were sitting a few rows ahead of us.

“Remember the ice cream at the beach?” Jacob asked when I got back to my seat. “You almost dropped your cones when those stupid kids threw the ball at you.”

“It’s a good thing you caught it,” I said, smiling at him. “Today, you get to eat the ice cream. You paid for the tickets.”

“Don’t be silly, Alex. I want you to have it.”

“Okay, let’s share. I’ll break it in half.”

“Let me cut it in half. Breaking it will make a mess.” He took a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and sliced
the bar down the middle. “I got this knife for my bar mitzvah,” he explained. “I knew it would come in handy someday.”

Just then, the house lights dimmed, the curtains opened, and the Road Runner appeared on the screen. Jacob’s hand snuck into my lap and grasped my free hand. I glanced at him in the semi-darkness and saw that he was smiling at me. I smiled back. The next two hours passed by like two fleeting minutes. I was aware of only the warmth of Jacob’s shoulder pressing against mine, his closeness, the pressure of his fingers entwined with mine. When the house lights came on at the end of the movie, it was a rude shock.

“Time to go home,” Jacob said. He checked his watch. “If we hurry, we’ll catch the five o’clock bus. I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. And your parents will be mad if I don’t see you to your door.”

“They’re not home. They usually go for a drive on Sunday afternoons.”

With some luck, I’ll get home before them, I said to myself, and they’ll never find out that I went out with Jacob. I had told them I’d be window shopping with Molly and Jean.

“That’s all right,” Jacob said. “I still want to take you home.”

The bus was clattering to a stop at the street corner just as we got there. A large group of kids elbowed their way up the steps ahead of us. We dropped our tickets into the receptacle and settled into two empty seats. The driver closed the folding doors and was just revving up the motor when through the window I saw Molly and Jean dashing out of the Odeon in our direction.

“Wait! Wait!” I cried. “My friends are coming.”

The driver opened the doors again to let them in. Gasping for breath, the girls threw themselves down on seats next to ours.

“I thought we’d missed the bus for sure,” Molly said. “The next one doesn’t come for another hour.”

“Alex told the driver to wait for you,” Jacob said.

“Thanks a million!” Molly beamed at me. “How did you guys like the movie? I loved it! Isn’t Elvis the cutest guy you ever saw? I guess you wouldn’t think so, Alex –
not now”
she said, looking at Jacob and speaking at shotgun speed, as usual.

Through all this, Jean sat silently peering out of the window, her legs primly crossed, her hands clasped in her lap.

“What about you, Jean?” Jacob asked. “Did you like the movie?”

“It was okay,” she mumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on the street outside.

“What’s the matter with you?” Molly said.

“Nothing.” She shrugged but wouldn’t look in our direction. Molly rolled her eyes behind her back.

“Your friend Jean doesn’t like me,” Jacob said as we walked down my street from the bus stop.

“Sure she does. It can’t have anything to do with you. I’ll talk to her tomorrow and find out what’s wrong. She’s one of my best friends. She’ll tell me what’s bothering her.”