Corianne sat nursing her precious sanity in the high school library. The middle school had a library, but the high school library was better. She was intensely grateful that Ms. Albina had given her a pass. Playing games would have been the last straw of a totally retched day. It was time to email her mother:

Dear Mom,

Everything fell apart today. Over the weekend Albina, the Suite Advisor, and me discussed book reviews and how it is perfectly OK to write a bad one. I was looking forward to writing a critique that had real criticism in it, but now we are doing grammar in English. Grammar is stupid! It is baby stuff! I know about subjects and predicates. It also takes all the fun out of English. I guess I like literature much better.

In swimming, we did canoe rescue, which is fine, but I'm the smallest kid in Advanced Aquatics and a big boy with disgusting chest hairs had to pull me into the boat. I'm not sure I passed because I am so small. I'm not sure what my gym will be in January. That means I'll be playing ball, and it will be just like Baird, Indiana. Blech!!!!!

We're doing the continents in social studies. That is the stupid part of geography. I mean I thought everybody knew this already! They say we'll have to memorize countries and the names of cities and rivers. They say that this hasn't been taught in sixty years, but they want to bring it back. It was more fun to do the earth and the sun and maps with scales and land types. I think the teachers  make us memorize stuff in geography because it is easy for them.

I hope everything is alright with you in the Emirates and that the principle stood up for you against that rich family that wanted you to change their daughter's grade. Here, if I fall on my face, you won't bother with changing my grade. You'll just say "Corianne, you can do better." I try, but sometimes it is not easy.

My roommate and I get along even if she gets up very early Saturday morning to go to Synaugogue. She is quite religious, but she has never told me I'm going to Hell. She also likes all her subjects. She even likes geography. She says her favorite book when she first moved to Brooklyn with her mother was an atlas. She wrote her book report for English on a book about light. She had to learn powers of ten to understand it. She has to learn about angles and a bit of geometry to do metal shop.

I'm just doing metal cut outs in metal shop so we'll see. I'm illustrating the 148th Psalm.  My roommate is not sure you can illustrate a Psalm. I think it violates the Second Commandment, but Ms. Albina says there is a long tradition of religiously inspired art, and it means I am getting something out of reading the Bible. Is art inspiration spiritual? Please let me know?

Love and your daughter,
Corianne

Marion and Zia went through the motions of finding a table, leaving Marion's rag tied to a bracket that held a wandering Jew that was growing out of its basket, and heading off to peruse the menu.


LBD Lunch 9/14/20

Main Line
Mexican Beef Patties and Rice
Chicken Romanescu Bow Ties
Pain Baignat Tuna Sub
Egg Salad Plate
Sweet Corn
Braised Escarole


Cold Bar
No-Meat Waldorf Salad
Green Pea DeLite
Canned Peaches
Fresh Fruit
Assorted Baked Desserts

Specialty Station 1 -- Quick Bread Bar
Apricot Almond Bread
Potato Muffins

Specialty Station 2 -- Deep Fried Delites
Breaded Fried Mushrooms
Fried Green Tomatoes

Have a great week!


"So many decisions," smiled Marion.

"I know I want mealies, I mean corn on the cob," answered Zia. Marion gave her a look of disappointment and headed off to deep fried delites and then to the cold and beverage bars.

"It looks like somebody's happy the burgers are gone," complained Farley as Marion sat down. "And that," he eyed Zia's tray, "is not a burger."

"It's a Mexican beef patty," Zia replied.

"Are you a good eater or brave?" Farley asked.

"Neither. I  like beef and corn."

"The tuna sandwich is not half bad," commented Mounish

"The fried veggies are better," answered Marion.

"If you like vegetables," commented Farley.

"The chicken is pretty good," Oded replied.

"I can't believe we get girls at this table and all we talk about is food!" Farley burst out.

"You started it," Marion told him tartly.

"OK, so what's everybody up to..." Farley seemed to reluctantly change the subject.

"The Legion D'Honneur Francaise is silk screening its posters today," Marion announced.

"How exciting," Farley replied.

"STEM Club is going to discuss speakers. That girl, Charlotte did research and I my Dad says he knows some doctors at Sloane Kettering."

"Sometimes I'm glad I'm not in extracurriculars," Farley observed.

"What do you do?" Zia inquired.

"I take Assembly Language and the engineer who teaches me is only available via SKYPE in the late afternoon."

"I take Kikuyu over Skype," Zia replied.

"What the fuck is Kikuyu?"

"A language that is popular in Kenya."

"You want to go to Kenya."

"I want to return there some day. It's my country," Zia replied.

"Well why didn't you stay in Kenya then?"

"Because one can get a better education abroad, but I'll need to read and write Kikuyu for when I return."

"Well that must be interesting."

"It's very interesting."

"Why do I feel like I landed on some alien planet," Farley mused.

"Go back to Planet Engineer," Zia teased.

"Yeah... You don't think of where it will all end up what you're doing."

"I'm thinking of a future job in government or business," Zia answered.

"And that's enough," Farley asked.

"More than enough. I'm thinking about Spirit Week next week," Marion waded into the desultory lunch talk.

"That is so exciting, I swear I'll faint dead away," replied Farley.

"Same here," Mounish piled on.

"I'm looking forward to putting the silk screens together," Marion was not going to go down to defeat easily.

"Somebody has to be well rounded," Oded found his way into the conversation again. "I'll be at STEM Club this afternoon," he told Marion. "They still are having conflicts."

"Is STEM Club that much better than Legion d'Honneur Francaise?" Marion poked at her classmate.

"Yeah...I mean STEM is the future."

"French is also the future."

"Huh...."

"Three more years of it."

"Yeah if you think of it that way."

"I do."

"Girls," sighed Farley

Zia wanted to tread water and talk with Marion in the middle of the deep end in the worst way on Monday morning, but Zia had to work on that infernal crawl and Marion squatted in dive purgatory on the side of the pool letting her self fall in head first. It was an awful and clumsy parody of a dive, something even the ten year olds in advanced swim could do.

And yes, there was a ten year old in advanced swim, a tiny thing in a red bathing suit covered with orange flames. She reminded Zia of a little water bird or of a chiclid fish that could glow in the dark. the advanced swimmers had the canoe this Monday and were practicing tipping it and righting it again in water over their heads. The little one had trouble getting into the canoe once it was right side up and a big boy nearly tipped it again when he lifted her. Then the kids tipped the canoe voluntarily, and began the whole process again. They righted and tipped that canoe several times during class, and more than once Zia stopped her swim to tread water and watch. Treading water was really a handy skill.

Marion did not watch the canoe show. She practiced her dive, swam angry, breast stroke laps, swam a backstroke lap that nearly went in circles; for she was quite clumsy, and she practiced diving again, terrible, squatting, ungraceful dives.

"Let's see a real crawl, Zia!" Ms. Wrinkles whose real name was Ms. Finnix yelled. Crawl was stupid and unproductive. Crawl went nowhere. Crawl took forever to get from one end of the pool to the other. Zia submitted to the slow motion of the overhand stroke and straight kick. "You don't have to turn your head to the side every time you bring your arms around," Ms. Finnix commanded.

"How often do I breathe?"

Ms. Finnix smiled and replied. "Whenever you need a breath." That gave the crawl no rhythm. and even less rhythm than the dog paddle. Zia decided to breathe every third stroke, and went a bit faster. Then she had to swim another lap, and a third, and a fourth. Then the motherly female swim instructor who was the head of aquatics pullled Zia aside. "I want you to do me a favor," she said.

Zia wondered how she could have gotten in trouble. All she remembered was last week's kickboard but she had picked it up and taken it back to the pile. "Can you swim down the pool with one of the younger girls?"

"Sure but she'll beat me."

"No Tikvah won't beat you, because you'll stay with her. You can tread water so you stop and tread water and let her catch up."

"What if something happens."

"I'll be watching and the side of the pool is right there."

Tikvah had a navy blue bathing suit and hair like a wet pelt, in the way that Caucasian girls typically abused their hair. Tikvah and Zia found their way to the lap lane. Tikvah took the inside and pushed off in a splashing, truly wretched dog paddle. Zia, relieved not to be crawling, dog paddled along side Tikvah but with a straight kick. Since she moved faster, she had to tread water. Tikvah said nothing, and Zia was also quiet. Slowly, slowly, they made it down to the deep end of the pool where Tikvah found the ladder and climbed out.

"Holy shit!" thought Zia. "That was the way I passed my swim test," except Tikvah had not really passed it. She'd barely passed. "Great job Tikvah!" called out the head of aquatics. "She still has to learn the crawl," thought Zia who jumped into the deep end and began to tread water and then to swim her own wretched version of the crawl back to the shallows. "I can't dive either," Zia said to Marion in her head.

Tikvah found writing her first book report of fifth grade brutally hard. The book had been fun to read, but the usual "what is this book about?" question left her without a pat answer. As much as Tikvah, despised (Oh what a wonderful word!) fiction, there were standard lines for writing a book report for a fiction or biography book. They did not apply to a book about electromagnetic radiation that had no plot. Maybe that was why the English teacher wanted to make sure that Tikvah understood what she was reading. Albina had to help her with powers of ten, but now that she understood them, she understood the book. The pictures were helpful. The book had even inspired her to draw wave designs for art activity this afternoon.

But a book that gives you facts about light, radio waves, X-rays, microwaves, etc.... is not a story, except that someone, a character without a name -- wait an author (Yes!), is trying to explain something. That is the story of a science book. Tikvah knew the author wanted readers to know about electromagnetic radiation because it was mostly invisible, but (Fantastic conjunction!) electromagnetic radiation was also about what made colors, even if it made them in a backwards way, by reflection and absorption, and colors made the world beautiful. The world was beautiful even if a rainbow as just sunlight reflecting and refracting off water droplets. It was all HaShem's creation when you thought about it.

Tikvah quietly thanked HaShem and taking her laptop, typed the "what is this book about" paragraph. She typed it, revised it, and smoothed out the language which was starting to sound like grownup writing talk. Then she wondered if Corianne was having the same problem with the Book of Proverbs in Tanakh. The English teacher thought that was a very good idea for a book report, book, but she hadn't looked to see if Corianne understood.

Corianne seemed to be typing something, and given the state of her book report, Tikvah was sure it was not a letter home. Corianne typed and typed. Tikvah went back to her favorite part of the book. It was not a part of the book so much as learning about waves, which repeated over and over in a pleasing rippling design. They had an eternal feel. They cycled like a circle. Waves were nice. Perhaps they were beautiful, but that was not something you'd say in a book report.

The important part about waves was appreciating them, and learning the words that described them and then being able to understand. That was why Tikvah was glad her book on light had lots of illustrations. The illustrator was another character in the story of making someone like her understand about waves. Tikvah wondered for a moment if she especially liked learning things. She knew Suri could have cared less, but maybe you don't care if you can walk around with exquisitely braided, shiny, golden brown hair. Waves did look like braids when you thought of it.

Zia decided the kids from the liberal Protestant church service were cynical when it came to school but kind enough to the broader world that they were true, Christians. Besides she loved Laurence' voice.

This week, Laurence figured out what activities he would be taking for tenth grade. "I'm going to do Yoga club and Young Democrats."

"Do the Young Democrats take people under eighteen?" Zia asked.

"They have to if they operate here. Of course, most of us can't vote, but we can bring in speakers and talk about the candidates. I still hate that all we have are old people running for President."

"Old people are wise."

"Old people can get sick and die."

"We all can get sick and die."

"You look pretty healthy, Zia."

Zia thought about the swimming pool where she would touch base with her roommate. She could tread water now so could find a corner of the deep end and just talk or she could practice her slow, graceless crawl. For some reason, learning to swim really mattered.

"What activities did you join?" Laurence asked?

"Junior Achievement and chorus. They had tryouts for chorus."

"You're really sticking with Junior Achievement."

"We're going to set up a factory of sorts."

"You want to be a factory worker."

"We'll automate it so we don't have to do heavy labour."

"OK, I guess it's time to be unpleasantly surprised." Zia and Laurence were about to approach the menu or rather the dual menu for brunch.


LBD Sunday Brunch I   9/13/20

Main Line (Breakfast)
French Toast
Scrambled Eggs
Hard Boiled Eggs
Ham
Roman Meal

Cold Bar
Canned Pears
Fresh Fruit
Assorted Pastries and
Fresh Baked Muffins

Specialty Station (Custom Breakfast)
Waffle Bar

Good Morning!


....AND....


LBD Sunday Brunch II 9/13/20

Main Line (Lunch/Dinner)
Pork Goulash
Herbed Chicken Tenders
Tilapia with Mango Chutney
Grilled Tofu Sandwich
Creamed Spinach
Zucchini and Carrots
Buttered Egg Noodles

Cold Bar
Cauliflower Gardinera Salad
Vegan German Potato Salad
Assorted Cakes, Cookies, and Pies
Fresh Fruit

Specialty Station (Custom Lunch)
Pageant of Pita Sandwiches

Good Afternoon!


"Well what do you make of that?" asked Laurence

"I'm either getting herbed chicken or a pita sandwich. It's better than last week."

"If you like goulash or tofu. Where do they dream this stuff up?"

It took a while for Zia to get her food together. She was grateful for cucumbers with Thousand Island dressing and a couple of naked pieces of toast to fill out her meal of chicken tenders and noodles. She also got an orange for dessert.

It took even longer for Zia to find Laurence and the rest of the crew who had managed to find two tables at once and then had to reorganize. "....Your Suite Advisor is worried about you," red cheeks explained to the ninth grade wrestler who was in one of the upper divisions and up against boys who were really big. "That's why all the family meals. My ninth grade Suite Advisor was like that too. They get tired of it eventually."

Zia could not picture Miella ever getting tired. She would have made a good Anglican Sister, but she had no vocation. She was gone all this afternoon anyway, on her way to New York to take drama club kids to the theater to see one of her friends in a play. She'd be back for family dinner tonight, but Zia did not consider that all bad.

"Some kids can't do their weekend schedules," Zia replied to red cheeks.

"That's odd. I mean, the first time maybe... Shit, you know there are learning disabled kids here."

"They take everybody," said a boy with a comb over and thick glasses.

"Why shouldn't they. They need the tuition and they took me," Laurence replied.

Red cheeks asked Zia what she was making for Junior Achievement, and Zia had to confess the group was still deciding.  Red Cheeks who was in both the Rainbow Club and Environment Club said that they had stuck a poor freshperson with the recycling bin project that had gone nowhere the year before. Red Cheeks made a sad laugh, and Zia remembered that her roommate was in the Environment Club. She seemed to like it well enough. "Next year, I will be a cynic," Zia decided.