Free And The Rat Laughed by Nava Semel Page B

give me a name! I was absolutely begging for it in my heart.
    And suddenly I had an awful thought, the worst. Maybe she can’t even remember her own name, the one her parents gave her. I’d rather not think about what if the name I know her by isn’t even–
    So what is real anyhow?
    Just at that moment, the doorbell rang.
    Grandma got up. Slowly. She was tense.
    Who could it be?
    I didn’t understand why she was so nervous. I said, Maybe it’s just someone collecting for the blind or for disabled children. Those people never tell you in advance.
    She leaned on the wall, right where she’d made room for the computer. And she started to cough. She covered her mouth.
    I asked if she was expecting anyone?
    She didn’t answer.
    Maybe they’re finally delivering the computer?
    She didn’t move.
    Should I get it? I asked.
    The doorbell rang again, and I didn’t bother waiting for her answer any more.
    It was my mother, even though we hadn’t arranged for her to come pick me up.
    Mom said: I was worried, so I came to pick you up. Then she tried to grab the notebook away from me.
    I told her I’d be back whenever I was ready. I promised.
    I think you’re too young for this, my mother said. This project can wait for high school when you’re older. I’m going to file a complaint against your teacher. Don’t you dare, I told her.
    My mother said: You’re still a child. Don’t you understand that? What’s the rush? Why grow up before your time? Where is everyone running to? Your generation has no childhood left. I feel sorry for you kids.
    You don’t get it, I told her. Our childhood – it’s not up to us. The world has changed.
    She pleaded with me to come home. She said Grandma would understand. Let me explain it to her.
    You’re spoiling everything, I told her. You’re always spoiling everything.
    I wouldn’t let her in. I nearly pushed her away.
    In the end she turned around and started down the stairs, turning her back on me. And as she walked down she said: I can’t even tell if what we know about her is what she really is, and maybe it’s better that we don’t know, because I don’t know what it could have done to me ... to us ... maybe destroying everyone’s life.
    That final sentence reached me as a little echo from the floor below.
    When I came back into the room, Grandma was determined.
    A legend.
    Or nothing.
    All right then. I had no other choice.
    So if this project is a disaster, I take full responsibility, Miri. At least I’ve brought in a legend, and maybe it’s worth a passing grade. It’s all she gave me. As far as the rest is concerned...
    I don’t know.
    Just a minute, Miri, one more thing, before you decide about me. I almost forgot. I think – I mean I’m not sure – that I did manage to get one name out of her.
    Stefan.
    I think that’s what she called the rat.
    My grandmother’s legend goes all the way back to the story of Creation. But her Book of Genesis is different. It starts on the fifth day, when God created the animals. We know all about that because it’s all there in writing. And He gave them all their animal traits. That much we can figure out even if it isn’t written in the Bible.
    On the seventh day, after God had created man and had a chance to rest a little, He was ready to go back to work, because He realized He hadn’t put the final touches on His successful start-up. Despite what it says in Genesis He really was a pretty hardworking God. Can’t take that away from Him. The thing that was on His mind was how to upgrade man, because He’d already figured out that He’d gone about it too quickly and probably messed it up.
    I’m not saying it was His fault.
    The following Sunday, exactly one week since He’d started creating the world, God was working His ass off again, if you’ll forgive the expression, to work out a program that would provide man with a set of human features, because He thought it would all amount to some sort of improved version.