“Has the Department of Health really condemned the building? Are the maintenance workers really on strike? And is Mrs. Steinman really being held hostage in a foreign country?”

T uesday Aug. 29

Zeesy hummed as she ironed yet another uniform shirt. The final week of summer vacation! Feeling an urge to share her bliss she picked up her phone and dialed Faigy.

“Six more days” she crowed as soon as her friend picked up.

Silence.

“Faigy? Hello? Speechless from excitement?” Zeesy giggled. “So what’re we going to do the first day back? Definitely go out for lunch, and….”

The silence was unnerving.

“Hey, you okay?”

At last, Faigy spoke. “You didn’t hear the news?” She sounded as if she had a bad cold.

Dread clutched at Zeesy’s heart. “No.”

“Check your e-mail,” Faigy whispered.

From: admin@BYBSMR.org

To: ‘Parents’

Subject: Start of School Year

Dear Parents,

We hope this e-mail finds you well.

Unfortunately, circumstances beyond our control have necessitated a delayed opening to our school year. Be assured that as soon as circumstances arrange themselves, we will open without delay.

Our sincerest apologies and best wishes for continued nachas.

Naomi Steinman

Principal

Zeesy read the e-mail three times before calling Faigy back.

“Tell me I’m having a nightmare,” she demanded.

“You’re having a nightmare.”

“Good, because for a moment I thought I’d actually read that our daughters will not be starting school on time.”

“Oh, you did read that.”

Zeesy gave a little shriek. “What circumstances? The letter didn’t give any information at all! Not even a hint of when school will open.”

“Sure, they did. ‘As soon as circumstances arrange themselves.’ ”

“But what does that mean?” Zeesy sobbed.

Faigy sighed. “Why don’t you call up the school?”

“Hello, this is Zeesy Ziskin, I’m calling to find out why school opening is being delayed.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ziskin, but that’s classified information.”

“Classified!” Zissi spluttered. “I’m a parent! I have a right to know! Give me Mrs. Steinman, please.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ziskin, but our principal is on vacation.”

“On vacation! While the school’s in crisis! When’s she coming back?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say.”

This was getting ridiculous. “What’s the big secret?”

“No secret.” The lady didn’t elaborate.

“Well, you’re the secretary, for goodness’ sake. Shouldn’t you know what’s going on?”

A pause. ‘Oh, no, I’m not the secretary. The secretary quit last week.”

“Then, who are you?”

But the line had gone dead.

From: slevenstein@BYBSMR.org

To: nsteinman@BYBSMR.org

Subject: Please come back!

Hello Mrs. Steinman,

I hear you’re enjoying Costa Rica so much that you’ve extended your ticket yet again. While far be it from me to ask you to curtail a vacation, I’m going to. Please, please, please—

Mrs. Levenstein, long-time assistant principal of BYBSMR, jumped as the door to her office opened. In walked a woman she recognized as a school mother. But — she squinted, registering that something looked off — what was she doing in a curly blonde sheitel?

“Uh, hello,” Zeesy said nervously. Would Mrs. Levenstein recognize her? Impossible, she told herself; there were hundreds of families in the school. Besides, she was now blonde. “I — um — heard there was an opening for a secretarial position and wanted to — um — apply.”

Mrs. Levenstein gave her the look that could send the most fearless girl scurrying back to class. “Where did you hear we have an opening?”

Zeesy squeaked, “Someone told me the secretary quit.”

Mrs. Levenstein pursed her lips. “Too many leaks around here,” she muttered.

“Must be crazy right now,” Zeesy continued, raising her voice slightly. “With everything that needs to be done before the start of the school year.”

Mrs. Levenstein looked at her suspiciously. “Everything’s under control,” she said. She angled her computer screen away from Zeesy. “Thank you for coming, but—”

Just then, the door burst open, and a young woman wearing a ponytail sheitel raced in.

“Mrs. Levenstein, is it true?” she said breathlessly, without a glance at Zeesy. “Has the Department of Health really condemned the building? Are the maintenance workers really on strike? And is Mrs. Steinman really being held hostage in a foreign country?”

Zeesy’s mouth opened in shock. She turned to the assistant principal, whose face had turned a deep shade of purple.

“Mrs. Meyers, our preschool director,” she told Zeesy in a clipped voice, “has a penchant for the melodramatic.” She turned to the young woman. “The Department of Health hasn’t condemned the building, they’ve merely given us a list of required and expensive improvements that must be made to the premises before we can open. The maintenance staff is not on strike; they are merely demanding a pay raise before coming back to work. And Mrs. Steinman is not being held hostage; she is simply taking an extended vacation due to urgent business that arose during her stay in — er — Costa Rica.”

She glared at the preschool director. “And what are you doing here?”

Mrs. Meyers took a breath. “I just found out that Hindy Stern is on bedrest.”

The assistant principal groaned.

“Which means,” Ponytail continued, “What with Leah, Malky, Suri, Henny, Ricky, Debbie, and Tova all out on maternity leave, that brings our total number of working preschool teachers to… zero.”

Mrs. Levenstein closed her eyes. When reopened them, they had taken on a steely glint.

“Mrs. Ziskin,” she said, so sharply that Zeesy jumped. So she had recognized her, after all. “Yes?” she asked.

“You were interested in helping, you said.”

Zeesy sat up straighter. “I’m interested in doing anything I can to help the school open on time,” she said with stirring sincerity.

The assistant principal pointed a finger at her. “Find me a new building, a full preschool staff, maintenance workers, and a principal who’s not sunbathing on her private Costa Rican beach, and I’ll give you a school up and running by next Tuesday.”

Feeling like she’d been entrusted with the mission of her life, Zeesy said earnestly, “On behalf of all mothers desperate for summer vacation to end, I hereby accept the assignment.”

From: Mommy@ZiskinZeeskites.com

To: NesheiBYBSMR@googlegroups.com

Subject: SOS — Save Our School!!

Calling all mothers! Join us at an emergency meeting 8:30 tonight at the home of Zeesy Ziskin, 23 Maple Drive, to find out what YOU can do to make sure our school opens the school year on time!

Reply from: MomofTen@gmail.com

Why isn’t the school opening on time??? Don’t they have any rachmanus????

Reply from: CynicsUnite@blogspot.com

Typical of our mismanaged schools. Money problems, I heard. Administrators giving themselves nice fat paychecks while our backs are breaking from tuition.

Reply from: TimetoWakeUp@SmelltheCoffee.com

Hello! Am I the only one here who sees the connection? Shidduch crisis, Tuition crisis, Financial crisis, OTD crisis, Divorce crisis… our frum community is in CRISIS, and all of the crises are being bred in our VERY OWN CHINUCH INSTITUTIONS. Now it’s payback time!!!! BYBSMR has come toppling down, but, mark my words, it is just the first of many…