You’re doing so well now, Shulamis, I tell myself. Why would you even think you’re not happy?

I can’t stop thinking about what Miriam said to me about my having become a happier person. The whole way home I tried to figure this riddle out, resulting in me almost twice losing sight of the escort my father arranged for me. But Mr. Joe, which is what he told me to call him, had the sense to keep his eyes on me and make sure I didn’t wander off.

“What’s on your mind, young lady?” he asked me cheerfully, after he located me for the third time. I blushed and said nothing. Mr. Joe smiled again and continued on his way, with me following him diligently, embarrassed of myself. Not only was I an 18-year-old, who, due to no fault of her own, could not read and needed a travel companion, but I also, very maturely, made the companion feel like a babysitter.

I slept through the short plane ride, and when we landed, I was simply focused on not losing Mr. Joe. When I finally settled into my father’s car, the disturbing thoughts that had chased me the whole week suddenly returned.

Am I happy?

What does happy even mean?

Nechami told me that according to the dictionary, the definition of “happy” is, “feeling or showing pleasure or contentment.”

Am I feeling “pleasure and contentment?”

It’s such a strange thing to think about. You’re doing so well now, Shulamis, I tell myself. Why would you even think you’re not happy? Look at what you’ve accomplished!