And the Rat Laughed - By Nava Semel Page 0,25

jams up and gets stuck. The idea that memory may have a will of its own suddenly gave me the creeps.

I looked at my empty notebook and realized that I didn’t have a thing – no story, no testimony, nothing that could be used to teach the coming generations a lesson, which is what you teachers are always after, and I knew that it was due the following day and that the whole class had already put together a tree and a genealogy and that they have everything they need, and I don’t have a thing.

She insisted: Just a legend. Take it or leave it.

I don’t understand where that legend idea came from, because she’s not one of those grandmothers who tell you a bedtime story or sing you a lullaby. I can’t remember so much as a single story or even half a lullaby that she ever ... just Grandpa. He was the perfect storyteller. He used to say it was for all the ones who weren’t able to tell, and he meant her.

OK, a legend. Whatever.

I had to go along with it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had anything to hand in, because if this was all I could get out of her, then either it’s a lack of talent that I’ve inherited from her, or else I just don’t have the patience or the technique.

One name at least. That’s all I wanted. Damn you, memory. Just 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