Chanukah Retold

      “Raffi! Oh my God, did you hear about the party at the big mansion in the Hampton's? It’s this Friday!”

      “No… but it sounds amazing!  I’m so ready for a party!”  I was super excited.  A party in the Hampton’s, I was ecstatic.  “It’s probably going to be cold… oh, I’ll wear Uggs and a jean skirt! Ah, I can’t wait, Lizzy!” I said in a shriek of excitement.

      It was only Monday, but I was bored with the week already.  All I could do was daydream.  Uggs and a skirt would be perfect, all I needed was a puff vest… no, a puff jacket with fur on the hood.  The day went by slowly, like the painting where the clock is melting. 
 

      “Hey mom, I’m home,” I called as I walked through the door.

      “How was your day, Honey?” she yelled from her office.

      “Fine,” I shouted as I raced up to my room. 
 

      “Hey Raffi…” I heard Adam say in his annoying fifth grade voice.

      I took three steps back and stood in his doorway. 

      “What do you want?” 

      “I’m bored.  Wanna play “Guess who” or somethin’?  Your choice,” he said, obviously trying to convince me.

      “No. I’m good.”  I had stuff to do. 

      I went into my room, picked out my favorite shade of nail polish and called all my closest friends.

      “Hey Janey, what’s up, girl? Did you hear about Friday?” Everyone was just as excited as I was.  “Hey Rebecca! Have you heard about the mansion party in the Hampton’s on Friday. You tryin’ to go?” I said, almost smug because I heard of it first. 

      “Shit! This sucks,” Rebecca exclaimed.

      “What?” I asked sounding worried. 

“I can’t go.  I’m going to my Grandparents’ house because Friday is the first night of Chanukah.”  Rebecca said sounding genuinely upset.  “And you have to go?” I didn’t really understand why Rebecca was just going to go along with her parents’ rules, but it was her loss. 

      That night at dinner was pretty much the same as always.  Ms. Perfect herself, my older sister Christine, bragged about her knowledge in the oh so important subject of science, snore, and Adam almost got me with the classic ‘fork on the seat.’  My dad sat quietly, while my mom occasionally blurted out a stupid, uninteresting conversation starter.  I couldn’t truly get along with any of these people.  I was the odd man out.  But instead of being odd, I was the only non-boring, non-ugly member of my family.

      “It sure is winter,” my mom said pathetically.

      After a long pause of no one saying anything, I said “good job,” in a sarcastic tone. 

      “It’s supposed to start snowing Thursday,” she said trying to redeem her winter comment with another one. 

      “Yes!” Adam yelled.  “Sledding!”

      “Just as long as it doesn’t snow on Friday…” I said, almost to myself.  I don’t usually ask my parents’ permission before making plans.

      “Why?” Christine inquired sharply. 

      “I have stuff to do Friday and I don’t want it to snow,” I said nonchalantly.

      “Honey, make sure you’re home by 6:00 because it’s the first night of Chanukah,” my mom said.

      “Yes, but there are seven more nights, so I don’t see what’s so important about the first night.”  I was starting to get annoyed.  I was going to that party. 

      “You’re father and I planned a family Chanukah for that night and you are a member of this family.”

      “Saying ‘your father and I’ isn’t going to make me cancel my plans. Your schedules are more flexible than mine.  I have plans on Friday.  You and Dad can plan the family Chanukah for another night.  Oh, and to the ‘member of this family’ comment, it’s only technical.”  I was mad.  I was ready to scream.

      “Raffi, you have your priorities really screwed up,” my dad glared at me. 

      “No.  You guys are being unreasonably inflexible,” I said, still standing my ground.

      “Raffi,” my mom said in a stern but quiet tone, “there will be more parties.  But Friday night is a Jewish holiday and you need to respect that, as well as Dad and I.”

      “You never want to help me out or accommodate my schedule.” I found myself shouting.  “This isn’t fair and you know it.” 

      I ran up to my room and slammed my door, loud enough so my big, happy family could hear the angry bang.  Why did they want to ruin my life?  They probably planned it on Friday so Christine could have something to do Friday night. 

      I paced around my room with my arms crossed, catching a glimpse of my livid reflection every time I walked toward the mirror.  I saw that my shiny, pink lips were pursed and my eyes were squinted and glaring, like swords piercing their prey. 

      “Hello, Janey?”  I asked frantically into the phone. 

      “Hey, Raff, what’s wrong.  You sound worried,” Janey questioned compassionately.

      “My fucking parents aren’t letting me go to the party,” I said fuming. 

      “Are you kidding me? Why not?  You have to go, this sucks, Raff!”  Janey shouted rapidly.

      “I know!” I yelled, “It’s because we’re having a family Chanukah.  They won’t even make it on any other of the eight days, either.  They’re being so selfish.” 

      “They really are,” Janey agreed.  “Why can’t they just do it Saturday night?”  She almost sounded disgusted.

      “Because they don’t want me to have fun.  And they’re just doing it to be mean, purposefully mean.  Well, it’s not working, I’m not hurt.  Just mad.” 

      “I’d be mad too,” Janey said.  “What are you going to do, though?”  She asked, feeling bad for me.  “Don’t worry, Raff, it wasn’t even going to be that great…”

      “What do you mean?” I interrupted “it’s going to be amazing because I’m going to find a way to go,” I announced defiantly.  “I’m going to that party.”

      “What? How? You’re crazy,” Janey sounded shocked.  “They’re not going to let you leave the house.”  Janey was trying to be my voice of reason.

      “I’ll sneak out,” I said, as if it was obvious.

      “When you get home, you’ll be grounded all year,” Janey yelled.

      “No, because we’ll have Hanukkah on Saturday and they’ll see how stupid they are.  I need to think.  I’ll call you when I think of something.”

      “Raffi, you’re crazy.  Call me later.”   
 

      My mind raced.  I paced around my room, playing out different escape scenarios.  I saw myself climb out of the bathroom window, swing on to the oak tree, land in my driveway and run off.  I saw myself race down my stairs, push my parents and Christine out of my way and sprint out the front door.  I even saw myself slide down a rope that hung out of my two-story high bedroom window.  Raffi, you’re being dramatic.  When Mom and Dad say you can’t go, just walk out the front door. 
 

      It was Thursday.  One day before the party.  I was ready for my moment of defiance and my night of wild fun.  I was trying to ignore my family, which wasn’t hard because of the painfully boring conversation that went on. 

      “It’s really comin’ down out there,” my dad said, peering over his newspaper.

      The news said there is three feet of snow, and tonight there’s supposed to be three or four more,” added my mom. 

      Everyone ate their toast silently, involved in their own little microcosm.  I knew my mom was going to make sure I was staying home tomorrow tonight, because she had avoided the subject all this week.

      “Adam, do you know what tomorrow is?” my mom asked, trying to initiate the conversation.

      “Yea, it’s the first night of Chanukah,” Adam said proudly.

      “We’re going to make latkes, light the candles, play dradel… It’s going to be really fun.”  She was trying to get us enthused.  Failed attempt.

      “I love latkes!” Adam happily shouted.

      Christine was eating her toast and reading the newspaper, occasionally brushing crumbs to the side so she could read the words.  I drank my latte and looked out the window at the snow. 

      “So, Raffi, tomorrow night…okay?”  My mom timidly hinted.

      “Uh, yeah,” I said, still watching the snow hit against the window.

      “Raffi, I’m glad you realized that family comes first,” my dad said in an authoritarian tone.

      “Uh huh,” I half smiled and nodded.  Why should my family come first when they’re not fun and they’re selfish? I can’t wait to get out of here. 
 

      On Friday, I awoke up to a white, winter wonderland outside my window.  There was at least four feet of snow built up on the ground.  I went to school, and talked about the party.  Talking about how much fun I was going to have made the boring school day fly by. 

      “See you there!” I would say after parting with an acquaintance.  “See you tonight!” I told all my friends. 

      I got home right after school.  My mom hardly said anything to me, so as not to upset me and change my ‘decision’ about Chanukah.  I took a nap so I would be rested.  I woke up an hour and a half before I had to leave, to get ready. 

      Adam and Christine were in their rooms.  My mom was reading on the couch while my dad was watching T.V.  It was time.  I wore fur snow boots, leggings, a short jean skirt and a puff jacket with fur on the hood.  My hair was up, in a tight ponytail. My smoky eyes and shiny lips glowed with nervous excitement.  I pulled my purse over my left shoulder and walked nonchalantly down my staircase, my eyes locked on the door, the whole time.  Both my parents could see the doorway from the couch. 

      My mother saw me out of the corner of her eye, “Raffi! What are you doing?” She shouted, knowing exactly what I was doing. 

      My dad whipped his head around at me, “Raffi, What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He yelled. 

      I ignored them both, and turned the top lock to the left.  I grabbed the knob and turned my hand to the right while pushing the door forward.  It didn’t budge.  I pushed it again, but harder.  What’s happening? I tried to unlock the door again but it didn’t move.  In a fit of rage I pounded on the door and screamed.  “What the hell?!”  I shouted.  My anger turned to defeat.  It wouldn’t open.  I sank to the floor as makeup streamed down my face. 

      My mom calmly walked over to me and patted my back. 

      “Raffi, we’re snowed in,” she said in a soothing, comforting voice, as if I hadn’t just tried to do something wrong. 

      “I want to go!” I muffled through crying.  I couldn’t have my way and I was embarrassed to admit my defeat.  I ran upstairs, buried my head in my pillow, and cried.  Fuck the snow.  I was pissed.  The last thing I wanted to do was sit through stupid ass Chanukah.  I heard my mom walking down the hall to my room.  I heard her knock. 

      “Come in,” I said in a monotone.

      My mom sat at the foot of my bed and faced her body toward me. 

      Her face looked understanding.  “Raffi.  You said you were having Chanukah with your family.  And you were willing to escape from the house to get out of that commitment.  I wish you would just choose to be with your family, but you’re a teenager. I understand that you don’t choose to be with us.  But now that you have to be, give it a chance because who knows, maybe you will enjoy it.  You used to like spending time with us.  Your brother, your sister, and believe it or not, me and your dad too.”  She was taking the friend route on this one.

      “I know I won’t have fun, but whatever,” I said sharply, rolling my eyes.

      “Come downstairs and we’ll put the finishing touches on dinner.”

      “I’m going to stay in my room.  Call me when dinner’s ready,” If I was going to be physically stuck in my house I was going to spend as little time as possible with ‘them’. 

      I fiddled around with stuff on my bedside table, rearranging it, trying to distract myself.  I twirled my curled ponytail with my index finger and stared at my bed post.  Nothing I could do could express my frustration.  I felt like a four year old on time out.  Tears ran down my red face.  I caught a glace of my disheveled appearance in my mirror.  I walked over to get a closer look when suddenly everything became pitch-black.

      “Ahhhhhhh!” I screamed out of shock. 

      “Raffi, are you okay?  I’m coming up there,” my mom shouted from downstairs.  I stumbled over to my bedside table and shuffled my hands around until I felt my cell phone.  I pushed a button and held it in front of me, lighting the way.  I reached the top of my staircase, “Mom?” I asked, in a shaky voice.

      “I’m right here, honey,” she said as she walked up the stairs with a flashlight. 

      “Are you okay?” she asked, as she hugged me.

      “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, hugging her back. 

      “Let’s go downstairs and find some candles.” She said in a comforting tone.

      We linked arms as we made our way downstairs.  Adam and Christine were sitting on the couch in the living room.  Adam pointed a flashlight in my eyes, “who goes there?” He said in his ‘make believe’ voice.

      “Adam, please lower the light,” my mom said covering her eyes. 

      My dad was in the kitchen, holding a flashlight up while he searched through the drawers for candles.  “Are you okay, Raffi?” He asked.

      “Yeah, I’m okay,” I said looking down.

      “Raffi, let’s go upstairs and get the candles in the den and on the mantel,” my mom said.  We walked upstairs and collected the candles that were scattered sparsely around the house.  I put them on the dining room table as my mom got matches from the kitchen.  Adam was playing with the light and quickly moving his hand so the light looked like a blotchy streak.  Christine held her flashlight over some reading material. 

      “Christine, help Raffi with the candles,” my mom asked.

      Christine got up and stood next to the dining room table, watching my hand light each candle. 

      “Oh, I forgot the candle on the shelf in my room, will you get it?” I asked her in an almost shy tone.

      “Yeah, sure,” she responded.  Looking surprised at how nice I was being.

      My dad looked at my mom with a pleasant expression. 

      “Good thing dinner was already done,” my mom said sighing through a smile.

      “I smell latkes!” Adam shouted.  Christine returned with the candle and placed it on the table.  She scurried off to the kitchen to help my mom.  I lit the candle and sat down on the couch.  Adam even seemed surprised to see me next to him.  I smiled at him as I confessed that I was, “excited for the latkes.”

      “Me too!” he rubbed his stomach and made a cartoon face.

      “Okay, everyone to the table, dinner’s ready,” my mom announced.

      I got up and headed for the candle lit table, as I realized, duh! The menorah wasn’t on the table!

      “Duh! The menorah!” I said to everyone.  “Some people are so oblivious,” I said almost mocking my own arrogance. 

      My mom chuckled as she brought it to the table. 

      “I know were not supposed to light all of them the first night, but I think it’s okay,” my mom said, looking at my dad.

      “It’s whatever, just light all of them,” I told my mom in a controlling but enthusiastic tone.

      I was standing over the candles as my parents were bringing food from the kitchen to the table.  Adam and Christine were already sitting down ready to eat.  The latkes smelled succulent and delicious.  

      “So I guess we have to say the prayer now, “ my mom said skeptically, looking over at my dad.

      I had only been to about four years of religious school, in which I probably only paid attention for two hours total.  I looked unsure as I asked, “are we really going to say the prayer? I don’t think one person here knows it.” 

      “Let’s try it,” my dad said optimistically.  “I know it, kind of.  I’ll start, but join in.” He said with a smile. 

      He began to chant the ancient prayer, but he only knew the first line.  After that, his solo trailed off into a mumble of Hebrew words, that randomly changed tones and intertwined pitches.  It was hilarious to watch.  I saw Christine crack a smile and chuckle.  My mom held back laughter through a wide grin and me and Adam just started cracking up. 

      My dad ended the ‘amen’ in laughter.  I couldn’t get over hearing his voice crack in and out of different pitches.  I sipped my water and controlled myself.  “You should do that every night before dinner,” I joked through laughter.

      Everyone broke into laughter.  The flickering candlelight swayed with the laughter, and the familiar smell of the holiday brought back joyful memories.  My dad looked over at me with a grin, but I was already looking at him.  My huge smile stretched from ear to ear.