“Elchanan’s class had to miss recess,” announced Mendy cheerfully as he stood up on his chair to reach for the ketchup bottle. Chaim neatly intercepted his hand, grabbing the ketchup and squirting a generous amount onto his hamburger.

“Hey!” Mendy cried, indignant, leaning across the table and nearly toppling from his chair.

“Mendy, sit down,” Bracha said, steadying the chair with one hand. “Chaim, please pass the ketchup. Elchanan, why did your class have to skip recess?”

Bracha was the oldest girl at home, and had been since Leah went to seminary and got married shortly after. She was also bossier — and nosier — than Leah ever had been, at least as far as Elchanan remembered.

“It was nothing,” he mumbled, just as Mendy cut in, “They were fighting! The whole class! Because of Avi Shine, right, Elchanan?”

That kid knew far too much. How did the sixth graders even get all their information?

“My friend said it was Elchanan’s fault,” Yoni said suddenly. Yoni was in fifth grade. Elchanan had noticed, out of the corner of his eye, how a group of the fifth-graders had watched in fascination as Rebbi had marched them all back inside. And now the whole school was talking about it as if it was the biggest deal.

As if he, Elchanan, was the kind of boy to start fights, when it wasn’t like that at all. He was the one who liked to get along with everyone, and he usually did.

Or he had, until Avi Shine had joined the class two years ago.

He just hoped Avi had been listening to Rebbi’s speech.

“Elchanan, really?” Bracha’s tone was disapproving. “Aren’t eighth graders more mature than that?”

Big sisters, seriously?

“Aren’t 11th graders less nosy?” he retorted. “Pass the French fries,” he added quickly, before Bracha could open her mouth to respond.

“Rabbi Glazer came out, and he was so angry,” Yoni was telling the younger kids gleefully. “And he made them all go inside, and we were going to play on the basketball court but then the seventh graders came and made us leave…”

“Why were you all fighting, anyway?” Bracha asked, sounding curious despite herself.

“It was nothing, I told you,” Elchanan growled. He was getting sick and tired of this conversation. “Why do you guys even care?”

“Sounds like a big nothing to me,” Chaim said, looking around for the French fries. The tray was empty, so he helped himself to a few from Elchanan’s plate.

“Would Tatty think it was nothing?” Bracha sniffed, getting up to refill the platter. “And Chaim, you shouldn’t be taking other people’s —”

“It’s okay, he doesn’t mind,” Chaim said glibly. “Right, Elchanan?”

“Right,” Elchanan mumbled, suddenly morose. Tatty wouldn’t think it was nothing, this feud that split the class cleanly in half, Avi’s supporters against Elchanan’s.

But then again, Tatty would probably never know.

“So. What exactly was happening out there, during recess?”

Avi wriggled back into the plush leather of the Highlander’s passenger seat, wishing he was anywhere else but here. He’d tried to delay the inevitable with every piece of homework he could remember or invent, but Ta was insistent that they had to “have a talk,” as he put it.

And his father’s favorite location for “talks” was the car. Going on a drive, from home to nowhere, and not turning back until he’d gently but firmly pried every last detail out of Avi.

He sighed. May as well get it over and done with.

“So this boy in your class, Elchanan,” Ta said, eyes drawing together in a frown. “The two of you haven’t been getting along for a while, I gather.”

Avi nearly snorted. “That’s the understatement of the year. He’s just so annoying, Ta, you have no idea. And the kids in the class just follow after him like sheep, literally. Why do they even play basketball every recess? Because Elchanan says. He’s the one who turned this whole thing into a huge fight with everyone taking sides.”

“He sounds like a leader,” Ta said, slowing for a red light and glancing meaningfully over at Avi. “A real leader in the class… but he’s not the only one, is he?”

Avi flushed. He rubbed his fingers up and down the strap of his seat belt, itching to be out of here already. Okay, so he was a leader, too. Okay, so a lot of the kids followed him, listened to everything he said.

“It’s different,” he blurted out. “I’m — I don’t make fights. I just stand up for the rest of the class, the guys who aren’t Elchanan’s friends, I’m the only one who will say something. The only one who will tell Elchanan that other people can have some time on the basketball court, too. That the whole world doesn’t belong to him.”

“You’re a leader, Avi,” Ta said, but his tone didn’t sound too complimentary. “And if you have certain strengths and talents, that means you’re responsible to use them right.” He paused, and even though Ta was facing the road, Avi could see the determined set of his father’s jaw. “But now, you’re going to use those gifts for something else. I spoke to Rabbi Glazer earlier, Avi. And you’re going to end this fight tomorrow. And work things out with Elchanan Stark.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 865)