{"id":549,"date":"2022-03-17T19:08:12","date_gmt":"2022-03-17T23:08:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/foxglovesystems.com\/herbheineman\/Stowaway\/?page_id=549"},"modified":"2022-04-07T17:05:47","modified_gmt":"2022-04-07T21:05:47","slug":"four","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/four\/","title":{"rendered":"FOUR"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Debbie Rabin was not the same after she lost her best friend. Eden Avery had been closer than a sister, as friends often are. The dedication of Eden\u2019s Garden, a year after Eden\u2019s death, served only to remind Debbie of her bereavement. Her brother Josh had loved Eden in a different way and might well have married her but for the tragic event that had taken her life. His loss had monopolized their parents\u2019 sympathy and support during those months of mourning, and he had derived strength from his contribution to the living memorial at Cresheim Valley Hospital, where she died.<\/p>\n

But nobody seemed to have appreciated the depth of Debbie\u2019s grief. She recalled her own words at the memorial service: \u201cI shall never understand why she had to be taken from me. It\u2019s so unfair. It just isn\u2019t fair.\u201d Occasionally, petulantly, she resented the attention lavished on Josh, on Eden\u2019s parents, even on Doctor McCrae, all of whom had found solace in the reconciliation they had worked so hard to bring about. Debbie had had no part in that process, and wasn\u2019t that unfair too?<\/p>\n

Then she would chide herself. What must it be like to lose your only child in the flower of youth, or to see your dream of a blissful future as husband and wife together reduced to ruins? In reality, Debbie\u2019s loss didn\u2019t compare with the Averys\u2019 or Josh\u2019s, and it was time she stopped feeling sorry for herself \u2014 or, worse, being jealous of those to whom Eden had meant more than to her.<\/p>\n

Doctor McCrae was another matter. Debbie had had only a dim concept of the significance of Eden\u2019s allergy to penicillin, but Doctor McCrae had come along and showed her in the most convincing way how dangerous it was. He had not spoken at the memorial service \u2014 of course not! \u2014 although he had been there unobtrusively. She had first seen him close-up at the Garden\u2019s dedication ceremony a year later, and there she had found him sincerely remorseful, introspective, humble, and, to her surprise, altogether attractive. Later she had to remind herself of the weight he carried on his conscience, and of the impossibility of entertaining closer acquaintance. He was also at least eight years her senior.<\/p>\n

Still, that awakening gave her the impetus to accept her loss and look to her future. She started going out, and instinctively she found herself judging her dating relationships by the criteria she had laid out for Eden on the day Josh left for Ithaca: dating<\/em> (enjoying shared activity), going steady<\/em> (being possessive), and being in love<\/em> (feeling an urge to give). Ruefully she consigned one boy after another to the first category. It wasn\u2019t until half way through her sophomore year at Oberlin College, the same campus where her parents had met, that she became interested in Connor Flynn, an outgoing, seemingly carefree business major with a limp, finding him fun to have a conversation with.<\/p>\n

Naturally they probed each other\u2019s history. He went first.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s your home?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cPhiladelphia.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMine\u2019s New York. I should say now<\/em>. My parents just moved there when my dad got a fat promotion.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo New York from where?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d never guess,\u201d he said with a broad grin.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen I won\u2019t even try,\u201d she said with a broader grin. \u201cIdaho? Alaska? Peru?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNowhere near! I was born in Philadelphia, and I came straight to Oberlin from there. Now we can compare zip codes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, mine is 19119.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMount Airy. Actually West Mount Airy. Yours?<\/p>\n

\u201c19111. Fox Chase. Miles from yours. Are you a Phillies fan?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI might be if I cared about baseball. My brother is, for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI used to root for them, but now I\u2019m a New Yorker and, mostly to please my dad, I root for the Yankees.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie thought they now knew enough about each other\u2019s baseball preferences, and it was time to get to more serious matters.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened to your leg? You\u2019re limping.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou just noticed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI noticed it by the time you\u2019d taken two steps, but I was afraid you\u2019d think me intrusive if I\u2019d brought it up then.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at her a few seconds. \u201cYou\u2019re tactful. I appreciate that, but I\u2019m not sensitive about the injury.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn that case, tell me more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCar accident.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. You don\u2019t act like it bothers you, but it must be a handicap.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled. \u201cYou really are tactful! Aren\u2019t you going to ask who caused the accident?\u201d<\/p>\n

She laughed outright. \u201cI\u2019m waiting for you to bring it up!  But maybe you\u2019re angry at whoever did it, and don\u2019t like to talk about it, or to offend a friend.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got no one to blame but myself,\u201d he answered, serious now. \u201cAnd it could have been worse.\u201d<\/p>\n

She waited for him to continue: \u201cTom, riding shotgun, hit his head on the windshield, and he got a pretty bad concussion. That also could have been worse. I guess I\u2019m lucky.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo on. How did it happen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t say I was drunk, but I\u2019d had a couple of beers, and I shouldn\u2019t have been driving. But Dad drinks and drives all the time, and I didn\u2019t have the good sense not to. At the time I\u2019d only had my license for three months. I got careless, passed a car on a two-lane road and squeezed back into my lane when there wasn\u2019t enough room. Rear-ended a van. My knee smashed into the dashboard. Fractured the kneecap. They had to put hardware in to hold the fragments in place, but I\u2019ll probably always have a limp.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie felt a shock of nausea at the image of that crash. \u201cOh God! And to think what could have happened if you hadn\u2019t been wearing seatbelts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe weren\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could have been killed!\u201d Her voice rose, causing students at the next table to turn their heads.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what the trooper said. But what did he know? Judging by his belly, I wouldn\u2019t be surprised if he\u2019d knocked back a couple of beers himself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid he haul you in for a blood sample?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust Breathalyzer. It was borderline, so he gave me a warning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019ve been more careful ever since!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m taking the Fifth on that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust promise you won\u2019t do anything that silly again,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI promise.\u201d They drained their cups and left, hand in hand. Debbie thought there was a casual, almost flippant tone in his promise, which bothered her. For one thing, she didn\u2019t want him to get into further accidents \u2014 particularly if drunk driving was involved. And there was a less tangible though no less troublesome worry, his seeming contempt for authority. She liked Con, but if he could not take the law or its enforcers seriously, what did that say about his potential as a husband or father? He\u2019d already alluded to the kind of paternal influence he\u2019d been exposed to. Would he pass those values on to his children? Would those children follow their father\u2019s example and drive under the influence? The implications made her uneasy. But then, she reminded herself, she was way ahead of herself.<\/p>\n

Midterms were approaching, and they spent more time apart preparing. The week before the exams they met again in the coffee shop. <\/p>\n

\u201cAre you ready?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs ready as I ever will be,\u201d he answered. \u201cI don\u2019t like cramming for exams. I forget it all once they\u2019re over.\u201d<\/p>\n

An exaggeration, maybe, but she knew from personal experience that he was not totally wrong. Nevertheless, the fact was, and surely Con knew, that a student\u2019s academic record was important in determining his further education and his chances of a successful career. Two weeks later they compared results. He had received a C-minus in statistics.<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t statistics important for a business major?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I guess so, but I\u2019ll survive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you should have studied,\u201d she ventured.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe I should have, ha-ha.\u201d<\/p>\n

She felt a chill. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said quietly. She tried not to show how upset she was. Not only because she would have come across as tactless, but also because he had done so poorly; because he either didn\u2019t care or couldn\u2019t admit caring; because his attitude diminished him in her eyes. She wondered, was she right to take him seriously? He sensed her conflict and tried to reassure her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure I\u2019d have done better with Professor Hadley. But her class was full, so I ended up with Kim.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t Kim a good teacher?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not that,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen what is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThese Chinese guys grade on a curve, with the Chinese students always at the top.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now she was really shocked. \u201cCan you prove that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just know.\u201d<\/p>\n

She had no reply other than the obvious for that assertion. \u201cDon\u2019t look so serious,\u201d he continued. \u201cI\u2019m only kidding. The Chinese send their best students over here, so no wonder they end up on top. They ought to have special classes for them. Give us stupid Americans a break.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh come on. I don\u2019t believe you really mean that. Maybe the Asians \u2014 Kim sounds like a Korean name, by the way \u2014 maybe they do send their best students, but don\u2019t forget, Oberlin\u2019s pretty selective about American applicants too. Both you and I must have impressed the admissions committee, so let\u2019s dispense with the excuses.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know whether I\u2019d have got in but for the fact that my mother went here, and I told them on my application.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid she really? My mother did too, and my father. In fact, they met at Oberlin. So if you\u2019re right I had double preference.\u201d<\/p>\n

That satisfied him. He\u2019d been admitted on the strength of only one parent\u2019s alumna status.<\/p>\n

Eventually their conversation faded into history. To her pleasant surprise, he also took it on himself to study harder. His final grades for the semester were an improvement over the midterms. Believing that she possessed the ability to influence him for the better, and that she would be important to him, she saw possibilities she had all but abandoned.<\/p>\n

On the first day of summer recess they rode together on the bus to New York City. As they waited for their luggage to be unloaded, he said, \u201cI\u2019d like you to meet my parents. How about coming to Brooklyn sometime during the summer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re willing to come to Philadelphia to meet mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a deal. Who goes first?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can decide later. We have a few months.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd can I meet your brother too?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s starting medical school in the fall, and he might stay the summer in Ithaca working in Dr. Ellsworth\u2019s lab. But I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll be down to visit, so we can time your trip to meet his. He\u2019s a great guy; you\u2019ll like him. His girlfriend died a couple of years ago, and he\u2019s still mourning. I am too,\u201d she added after a pause, \u201cshe was my best friend. Her name was Eden. Lovely name, isn\u2019t it?\u201d Debbie felt her voice was on the verge of breaking, and she found a way to change the conversation. \u201cIt\u2019s about time for the Philadelphia bus to board. I\u2019ll tell you everything when I see you. Bye.\u201d<\/p>\n

Con was so taken back by what he\u2019d just witnessed, and the effort it cost Debbie to control her emotions, that he stood mute. Hearing no sound from him, she turned back and hugged him. \u201cBye again!\u201d with a smile this time.<\/p>\n

The call came next morning. Esther picked up the phone.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Rabin residence.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMay I speak with Debbie?\u201d an unfamiliar voice asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m Debbie\u2019s mother. Who\u2019s calling?\u201d Actually Debbie had prepared her mother for the call.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is Connor Flynn, a friend of Debbie\u2019s from Oberlin. Well, actually I\u2019m from Brooklyn, but we met in college.\u201d<\/p>\n

Up to then, based on Debbie\u2019s occasional remarks, he\u2019d just been Con. Now Flynn: that didn\u2019t sound Jewish \u2014 unless it was an anglicized version of Fein, Feinberg, or something like that. But did it matter? Eden hadn\u2019t been Jewish either, but all of the Rabins had been totally charmed by her. She had been like a third child.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me see if I can find her,\u201d Esther said after what must have seemed like an indecorous silence.<\/p>\n

Debbie came to the phone in answer to her mother\u2019s call. Without asking who it was, she said lightly: \u201cDidn\u2019t we just say good-bye?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was yesterday; this is today. When can we get together?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMake a suggestion.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you spend a weekend?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI probably can, if you have acceptable sleeping arrangements.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy parents would insist on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, I\u2019ll check with mine. I\u2019ve never heard their opinions about such things. But wait, Josh and Eden. They were up in Ithaca together. I think my parents will be fine. Call me after lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n

True to expectation, both sets of parents asked what their children had in mind, and allowed themselves to be convinced that the relationship hadn\u2019t reached the point where there might be cause for concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cI assume we\u2019ll get a chance to meet him too,\u201d Esther added.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d love for you to,\u201d Debbie answered eagerly. \u201cAnd I\u2019d love for Josh to, as well. When is he coming?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe hasn\u2019t told us yet. He\u2019s spending the summer up there, you know, but he promised us at least a week. As soon as he tells us when, I\u2019ll let you know, so you can coordinate with Con.\u201d<\/p>\n

The phone rang at 1:30. This time Debbie picked it up. Without introduction, Con asked: \u201cFeel like going to a ballgame?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, why not? No, wait a minute: what kind of ballgame?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHa ha! OK, baseball. The Yanks are playing the Blue Jays on the sixteenth. That\u2019s Saturday. So you stay over and on Sunday we\u2019ll go to the beach. You like the beach?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLove it. We used to go to Ocean City every summer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll go to Rockaway, far from the madding crowd. Better than Ocean City \u2014 and way better than Coney Island.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere do I sleep?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn our guest room. And you can close the door. Then my folks won\u2019t need to worry about what we\u2019re up to. They\u2019re pretty strict about that. It\u2019s a religious thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d Debbie said, \u201cI think it\u2019s best for us too. I doubt Josh and Eden ever did anything, and they were really smitten with each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

Con caught himself just in time. Debbie might be sensitive about any comparison with Eden. So he simply said, \u201cOK,\u201d then wished he\u2019d said it with more enthusiasm.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do I get around New York City?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll meet you at the Port Authority Terminal. See if you can find a bus that gets there no later than eleven-thirty, then we\u2019ll grab lunch and go straight to Yankee Stadium. The subway system\u2019s complicated, and it\u2019s quite a long ride.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019ll be lovely. Hold a sec while I check the bus schedule. . . Here we are: eleven-thirty-five! Close enough?\u201d<\/p>\n

Con decided that they had time to walk crosstown from Eighth Avenue to the East Side, where they had lunch in a delicatessen before taking the Lexington Avenue subway to the stadium.<\/p>\n

The New York Yankees had a bad season in 1990, and the date Con chose to host Debbie fell right in the middle of a losing streak against the Toronto Blue Jays. Coincidentally, on that very weekend the Phillies won three in a row against the Chicago Cubs. But neither Con nor Debbie knew those statistics as they were unfolding \u2014 and they could hardly have cared less. A sunny Saturday afternoon in the ballpark, surrounded by uninhibited fans, was the ideal setting for them to cheer, boo, drink beer, and hold hands.<\/p>\n

After the game the subway, predictably, was crowded and they were forced to stand. Squeezed against each other, they were silent and avoided prolonged eye contact until the change of trains at Union Square released them from their confinement. They sat the rest of the way and allowed themselves knowing smiles.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis section is called Ditmas Park,\u201d Con explained as they emerged from the Newkirk Plaza station. \u201cJust a couple of blocks to our home. I don\u2019t know what we\u2019re having for dinner, but Mom likes to entertain. You\u2019re not kosher by any chance, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, we enjoy the Jewish holidays, and there are some things we don\u2019t eat, but we\u2019re not strict about the dietary laws.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad. My parents don\u2019t even know that I\u2019m dating a Jewish girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that a problem?\u201d Debbie asked, slowing down.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure it isn\u2019t. After all, we\u2019re not about to announce our engagement. There are a lot of Jews in our neighborhood \u2014 Hassidim, in fact. My parents aren\u2019t crazy about them, especially my father. He sometimes makes snide remarks about their clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n

This time Debbie stopped. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me this before?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s never been a problem between you and me, and I didn\u2019t \u2014 I don\u2019t expect it to be a problem with them. I just thought I\u2019d tell you in case it comes up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie was more than a little annoyed. \u201cI don\u2019t know what upsets me more, that you didn\u2019t tell them about me or that you didn\u2019t tell me about their feelings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you have refused to meet them if I\u2019d told you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I don\u2019t think so. But I\u2019d have been prepared. Obviously I have to meet them if we\u2019re going to continue going together.\u201d<\/p>\n

He took her hand. \u201cI\u2019m really sorry. I didn\u2019t mean to put you on the spot. It was thoughtless of me. But I\u2019m sure they\u2019ll like you. I told them you\u2019re my girlfriend. How can they not like you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, if they don\u2019t like Jews.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom\u2019s very friendly with our neighbor, Mrs. Hirsch.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd your father?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMost of his friends are at the showroom. He works in a Buick dealership.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about Mr. Hirsch?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a butcher. He and Dad don\u2019t have much in common.\u201d<\/p>\n

They turned the corner into Dekoven Court. \u201cAlmost there,\u201d Con announced.<\/p>\n

Debbie looked with astonishment down the cul-de-sac of imposing detached three-story houses sheltered by trees that reached to the rooftops or higher. Her mind backpedaled to A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,<\/em> which she had read in junior high school. Betty Smith mustn\u2019t have visited this part of Brooklyn, she thought. The people living here, including the Flynns, were obviously well to do.<\/p>\n

They mounted the recently painted steps to the porch, to be met by Mrs. Flynn, who seemed to have been watching the sidewalk for their approach. Smiling broadly, Gladys welcomed her son\u2019s girlfriend with a warm hug. \u201cSuch a pleasure to meet you. We\u2019ve heard so much about you, and it\u2019s all good!\u201d Right away Debbie\u2019s apprehension vanished.<\/p>\n

The sound of their voices brought Mr. Flynn from within. Looking at all three together, Debbie saw the physical resemblance between Con and both parents. Mike came forward with arm outstretched and shook Debbie\u2019s hand. \u201cPleasure, I\u2019m sure,\u201d he said. \u201cDid you cheer for our Yankees?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI did, Mr. Flynn, but it wasn\u2019t good enough. They lost.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019ve been losing all season,\u201d Mike said with a hint of disgust. \u201cWe should move to Philadelphia, where they know how to play baseball.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brother\u2019s the authority in our family,\u201d Debbie said, laughing, \u201cand I think he\u2019d say that over the long haul the Yanks have a much better record than the Phils.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the old days, meaning before 1955, the Yanks were practically unbeatable. Not so anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019s that?\u201d Debbie unwittingly was about to open a can of worms.<\/p>\n

\u201cThink 1947,\u201d he said, \u201cand think Brooklyn Dodgers. Your brother will know, if he\u2019s familiar with the history of the game.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gladys could hardly contain her irritation. How little it took to set Mike off! Even in the presence of a guest they\u2019d so looked forward to meeting. \u201cLet\u2019s go inside and eat.\u201d She led the way without waiting for anyone to react.<\/p>\n

Debbie would have loved to comment on the beautiful woodwork in the house but felt inhibited by the tension just revealed between Con\u2019s parents. After a delicious dinner of lamb chops, during which Mike\u2019s only words were a number of requests for another beer, both Con and Debbie offered to help with the dishes, but Gladys declined.<\/p>\n

\u201cCon, why don\u2019t you and Debbie take a walk around the neighborhood? It\u2019s a lovely evening. And when you come back, we\u2019ll have ice cream.\u201d<\/p>\n

They set out in silence. Debbie felt sorry for Con, who must have been embarrassed by his parents\u2019 performance. Con felt sorry for Debbie, whose first impression of his parents could not have been pleasant. But she took his hand and said, \u201cYour mother made us a lovely dinner, and I really wanted to help with the dishes, but I think she wanted us out of the house \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014 so she could give Dad a talking to. He\u2019s got a weakness for booze and, let\u2019s say, for certain issues.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean that Brooklyn Dodgers stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. The Dodgers had already left Brooklyn before I was born, but the way he told it, years later, you\u2019d think they\u2019d abandoned him personally when they went to L.A.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that \u2014 the move to L.A. \u2014 what you meant by \u2018certain issues\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. My Dad\u2019s \u2018certain issue\u2019 is Jackie Robinson, what he represents and what he\u2019s come to stand for. The Yanks didn\u2019t integrate until 1955 \u2014 a couple of years after winning five consecutive World Championships. After that they still won more than their share, but never five in a row. To hear Dad tell it, the reason was that they integrated the team.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat doesn\u2019t sound logical! He couldn\u2019t possibly mean it,\u201d Debbie said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a model of tact, Debbie. Fact is, in some respects Dad can be a total asshole. And he drinks too much.\u201d<\/p>\n

And so do you sometimes,<\/em> Debbie thought ruefully, but now was not the time to remind him. As for his father\u2019s other shortcoming, didn\u2019t Con\u2019s remarks about Asian students at the midterms begin to sound familiar? Had the apple really fallen that far from the tree?<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m ready for ice cream,\u201d Con said suddenly. \u201cShall we go back?\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie was glad of the change of subject. \u201cOK, let\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

They found Mike sitting alone on the porch, a can of beer in his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cNice walk?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust perfect, Mr. Flynn,\u201d Debbie answered. \u201cAnd so many people still on the streets. This neighborhood\u2019s really lively.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, you have to close the windows if you want to get any sleep around here. The noise goes on till all hours, especially Saturday nights.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnyway, Debbie,\u201d Con said, \u201cyour room is at the back of the house, so you won\u2019t hear much from the street.\u201d<\/p>\n

They were about to go inside when Mike called them back. \u201cSit down just a moment, guys,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m sorry for the way I acted before. That was no way to talk in front of a lady, especially my son\u2019s lady. I guess I\u2019m too much into baseball. I used to be a Dodgers fan, and when they still played here I never cared for the Yanks. But by the time the Dodgers left the Yanks weren\u2019t what they used to be either. So I easily get upset.\u201d<\/p>\n

Con had heard his father\u2019s outbursts and apologies before and had promised himself that he would not be like that. Then came Con\u2019s snide remarks about Asian students. Debbie had called him on his prejudice. In the aftermath of that conversation he realized what an effort it took to break away from his father. Just when he thought he\u2019d established some independence of thinking, the old habit came out of hiding.<\/p>\n

Debbie, had she asked herself at the time, would have guessed where Con\u2019s pattern of thinking originated. Now she knew for sure. It was always the parents, with unfettered access to their children\u2019s minds in the early, formative years. What she could not know was whether Con would ever master his xenophobic inheritance, and that uncertainty gnawed at her. Tolerance was ingrained in her own family, and it was sincere and effortless. Could she sustain a comfortable long-term relationship with Con? Would her family accept him with his attitude? Was she walking into a trap?<\/p>\n

Logic told her that she should be contemptuous of Mike \u2014 hate him, in fact, for threatening her vision of a future with Con. But logic wasn\u2019t the only force impinging on her mind. She rather liked Mike, his boyish enthusiasm for baseball \u2014 which perhaps he had also passed along to his son. She liked the chivalrous manner in which he had begun the present conversation, a trait more likely to endear him to others than antagonize them. Here, she reasoned, was a man who was mourning the decline of a favorite sport as he\u2019d known it. It wasn\u2019t just the screaming racial overtones; it was the departure of the team he used to root for. Feeling that loss personally didn\u2019t sound so strange to her. She\u2019d seen Josh jump out of his chair in joy or disgust at sports events. She thought she might even get along with Mike.<\/p>\n

And then she remembered that she was Jewish. How would Mike feel about that?<\/p>\n

Her head was spinning. She excused herself and went up to her room in the back of the house. The street noise was barely audible there, but the silence was wasted on her. She couldn\u2019t sleep.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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<< THREE<\/a><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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FIVE >><\/a><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

1989 Debbie Rabin was not the same after she lost her best friend. Eden Avery had been closer than a sister, as friends often are. The dedication of Eden\u2019s Garden, a year after Eden\u2019s death, served only to remind Debbie of her bereavement. Her brother Josh had loved Eden in a different way and might […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-549","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nFOUR - The Stowaway Gene<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/four\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"FOUR - The Stowaway Gene\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"1989 Debbie Rabin was not the same after she lost her best friend. Eden Avery had been closer than a sister, as friends often are. 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