“Yup.” ZeeZee jumped up and walked over to her. Lowering her voice, she said, “I wanted to thank you. For pushing me to do something about Shani.”

Ilana looked startled. “You serious?”

“Yeah. I spoke to my mechaneches about Shani. She was really happy I told her, and said she was gonna get on it right away.” ZeeZee smiled. “Thanks to you, my friend.”

After a long moment, Ilana smiled back.

“Y’know, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” ZeeZee said.

“Oh, shut up.” But Ilana’s cheeks were pink. “Brooklyn Girl, you came all the way over here just to tell me that? I have a phone, you know.”

“ ’Course I didn’t. I came for something else, too.” ZeeZee walked across the room, where the guitar was standing in a corner, and picked it up. “Guitar lessons. I don’t know if you noticed, but my playing can use a little — uh — refinement.”

“Your playing sounds like the cats screeching in the garbage dumpsters.”

“Yeah. That.” ZeeZee plopped down next to her. “So you’ll help? Because I’m planning on leading a kumzitz at our Chanukah Chagigah, and I…”

She laughed at the look on Ilana’s face. “Joking. OMG, like, hashtag WorstIdeaInTheWorld. No, I just wanna learn because I want to be cool and talented like you. ’Kay?”

Ilana gave an exaggerated sigh. “You’re a nut, you know that?” She picked up the guitar and began to play. Then she threw ZeeZee a sideways glance. “But keep hanging around, and maybe one day you’ll be as cool as me.”

Chava opened the door to her classroom and blinked when she saw it was half empty. She glanced at her watch. Yes, her four o’clock class was supposed to start right now.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“They’re practicing,” Rusi said.

“Excuse me?” Chava walked into the room and put her books down on her desk. “Practicing for what?”

“For the Chagigah. Mrs. Hurwitz asked both the skit and the choir to meet in the lunchroom.”

Chava’s eyebrows shot up. “Mrs. Hurwitz must not have realized that some of the girls have class right now.”

Frustrated, she deliberated what to do. Today’s lesson was one of the cornerstones of her hashkafah classes; she couldn’t have half the class missing it. Should she push it off for next time, and just have a light schmooze session with the girls who were here?

She pursed her lips. In other words, make all the girls miss class instead of just half? Chagigah preparations were supposed to happen during the girls’ free time; what gave Mrs. Hurwitz the right to go and schedule it now? Someone had to teach this woman to respect school protocols.

Chava made a quick decision. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said. She walked rapidly through the hall and down the stairs, until she came to the cafeteria. Peeking through the glass doors, she saw dozens of girls inside the room, some at the far end singing, others huddled in a group around ZeeZee Keller, who was doing some sort of act that had the girls laughing uproariously.

Tammy Hurwitz was running from one group to the other, answering questions, giving directions, and looking like she was having a ball.

Chava hesitated for a moment. It wouldn’t be a simple thing to break up this fun; was it worth it?

Yes, she decided. If she didn’t take a stand now, things would continue like this until Chanukah. She pushed open the door and walked over to Tammy. The room quieted noticeably.

“Mrs. Hurwitz,” she said softly. “It looks like you’re doing a wonderful job getting the girls excited about the Chagigah.”

“Thanks!” Tammy beamed.

Chava continued, “But some of them have class right now. I need to ask my students to stop practicing and come to class.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize,” Tammy said, flustered. “I mean, it’s so hard to get them all together for a practice. Would it be okay if they skip class just this once?”

Chava sighed. “I understand, really. There were years that I was in charge of the Chagigah. But the school rule is that Chagigah preparations can’t interfere with class time, and it’s important not to make exceptions. Otherwise, the entire school will end up being a hefker velt for the next few weeks.”

Tammy lowered her eyes, and Chava couldn’t tell whether she was embarrassed or annoyed. “Of course,” she murmured. “You’re right. I’ll tell the girls that we’ll continue tonight.”

“Perfect. I appreciate that.”

On the bus home, Chava had pangs of misgivings. Maybe she’d genuinely embarrassed the new eim bayit? She decided to call Tammy to apologize.

She was glad she did; from Tammy’s reaction, it seemed she’d been really hurt.

“Thank you for saying that,” she said quietly. “Yes, it was a bit embarrassing, but of course if those are the rules…. Anyway, it means a lot that you called now.”

There was silence, and Chava was on the verge of hanging up, when Tammy spoke again, haltingly.

“While I have you on the phone, I wanted to speak to you about something else. Shani.”

Chava’s heart sank. She really didn’t want to go there. “Poor girl, such a difficult case. But I spoke to her mother, and we’re going to get her the help she needs. She met with a doctor earlier this week, and the doctor agrees her weight loss is psychological in nature. We’re looking into therapists now.”

There was more silence, and then Tammy burst out. “Excuse me, but did no one think of consulting me? When you knew I’m the one closest to Shani?”

Whoa. Was this the same woman who’d insisted only a few weeks ago that there was no need for intervention? That she had everything under control?

“You’ve done so much for Shani, but we felt she’d reached the point where she needs professional help,” Chava said carefully.

Tammy ignored this. “For example, if you would’ve asked, I could have told you that involving Shani’s mother is the worst thing to do. Her mother is the reason Shani’s in this state!”

Chava took a breath. “Yes, after speaking to her mother, I understood that.” She tried to inject a conciliatory note in her voice. “You’re right, I probably should’ve spoken to you beforehand.”

And yet, she thought as she hung up, there’s still a reason why I didn’t.

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 748)