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Ronen IjadiChapter 1:“HELP!!!!” I screamed as tears trickled down my face. “Everything’s going to beokay, dad. Everything’s going to be okay.” I whispered down to him, even though I knewhe couldn’t hear me. “HELP!!!” I screeched again, this time hearing my own voice crack.My hearing in one ear was completely gone, but I could still hear the gruesome sound of innocent people crying out in anguish and pain. When I looked around, I could seedozens of people with missing limbs, broken bones, or excessive bleeding. As much as Iwanted to help them, I had my own problem to worry about. The bleeding was gettingworse, and that piece of shrapnel was in there pretty deep. And there I stood, pressingdown on a huge gaping hole on my father’s chest, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.My hands were soaked in blood, and the salty tears in my eyes were blurring my vision.From one ear I could hear the distant sounds of an ambulance siren. “Dad” I murmuredso quietly that only I could hear it. “Wake up, dad, please!” I begged in sorrow as the fear and despair made my throat close up so tight that I could barely breathe. “Don’t you dareleave me daddy, don’t you dare leave me!!!” I pain was too much for me to bear, and I broke out crying on his bloody chest, hugging him like I never wanted to let him go.Suddenly I felt a firm hand grab me and rip me away from my father. I screamed andresisted as if my life depended on it, but it was no use. The paramedics lifted my dad’smotionless body, put it in the back of an ambulance, and drove off. That was the last timeI saw my father, and it was a day I’ll never forget for as long as I live.Chapter 2:“It’s been almost two months since the attack, Yitzchak” the psychiatrist said in avery empathetic and calming voice. “Would you like to talk to me about whathappened?” I never liked telling this story, but to not tell it would be to forget, and Iswore never to forget what they did to my father. “It started off a normal Sunday, like anyother” I replied. “Every Sunday my father and I would go visit the kosher Burgerking. Iwould order a normal hamburger and he would get the fish burger” I said, smilingslightly at my dad’s choice of fast food. “After we got our food and sat down, my dadsuddenly remembers that he forgot to put money in the meter. As he was getting up, Itold him that I would do it for him, to do the mitzvah of honoring your parents. Dad wasso proud. He said he’d wait until I got back to start eating.” My eyes always watered upfor this part. “As I left the store and walked to our car, I heard a man inside yellsomething in Arabic. Suddenly, the store erupted into flames as a huge explosionviolently threw me to the ground. The enormous sound deafened me in one ear, and senta shockwave through my entire body. For a moment I just laid on the pavement, unable tocomprehend what had just happened. Suddenly, the thought hit me that my dad was stillinside. I rushed through the flaming derbies and found my dad inside, laying motionlesson the floor.” I paused for a moment to regain my composure. “He didn’t look good” Icontinued. “There was some shrapnel lodged into his chest, and he was bleeding out pretty bad. I called for help but no one came. The area around me looked as if hell itself had broken loose. I tried to save my dad, I really did. Those dam paramedics took himaway from me, and for what? Just so he could die in a hospital!” I realized that I wasscreaming now. The psychiatrist didn’t seem to mind. “It’s okay” she said. “Let it all out,
 
Yitzchak.” That’s what everyone told me to do, and it never made any difference. Lettingit out wasn’t going to bring my father back. “My name is not Yitzchak” I shot back ather. “It’s Isaac”Chapter 3:“How did you like this new psychiatrist, Yitzchak? Thank God we can afford her now” my mom said as I walked through the door of our house in Tel Aviv. “I told you tostop calling me that mom. My name is Isaac. And thank who?” I snapped back at her.“God” she replied. “You know, that guy in the heavens that saved your life two monthsago.” “Oh right, wasn’t he also the guy the kill 32 other people, one of them being myfather!” Talks like these with my mom never ended well. “Listen here you little atheist,that man was not just you father. He was also my husband. You think I don’t miss himtoo? But I trust that God has a good reason for everything he does. It’s called fate.” Thisinfuriated me. “Are you actually justifying my father’s death? My father was a good man.There isn’t one good reason in the world why a caring God would want him and 31others killed in such a brutal and horrific way.” And then she said something thatreligious believers have been saying for centuries. “God works in mysterious ways. It isnot within our brain capacity to understand what and does and why he does it.” A believer’s ace in the whole. “Prove it” I said as I stormed out of the room. Like I said before, these talks never ended well. This is why I don’t like to talk.As I climbed the stairs to my room, I couldn’t help feeling regretful for raising myvoice at my own mother. After all, she’s the only family I have right now. I opened thedoors of my tiny little room, shut it behind be, and flopped onto my bed. Then, I just laidthere and thought. I thought about life, about God, about my father. I’d think about thegreat mysteries of life, the great questions mankind has faced for centuries, things thathave baffled men much wiser than me. I would just think, and think, and think, and all itever got me was a headache.Chapter 4:7 o’clock AM. That’s the time then bus always stops by my house. At 6 0’clock,my alarm clock rings, signaling the beginning of another day. Another day of absolutelynothing new, same as always. I get up, brush my teeth, pick out some clothes, eat breakfast, and walk out that door. The doors of the bus swung open like the gates of hellletting me in, only this wasn’t hell. It was too cold to be hell. I picked a random spot onthe bus and sat down, one of the benefits of being the first stop. This was the only part of the day I enjoyed; the silence of an empty bus only broken by a roaring engine and thesound of cars around me. However, my moment is always short lasted as soon as Josephwalks on the bus. “Hey Izzy, what’s up ma dawg.” For some reason, Joseph though hewas a gangster. “Joe, stop talking like you’re from Harlem. You go to a yeshiva for petesake” I said to him very condescendingly. “Don’t hate me cuz you aint me” he replied,crossing his arms like he was from the hood. I sighed. A few stops later was Simon’sstop. Simon was a good kid, but every time he would see me, he felt like it was his job tocomfort me every day. “Hey Yitzchak, how you feeling today? Feeling all right?Everything good in your life?” he said, putting one hand on my shoulder. “Yes” I came back, shrugging his hand off. “I’m fine, everything’s fine. And stop calling meYitzchak.” “Oh right” he said. “Isaac, I’m sorry. I keep forgetting. It’s a miracle that I
 
even can even dress myself in the morning, am I right?” he said jokingly. I just stared athim for a long second, then turned my head and looked out the window. ‘There’s no suchthing as a miracle’ I thought to myself. Finally, the last bus stop was Jacob’s. Jacob and Iwere friends since we were in diapers. We’re the closest thing to brothers than any twonon-related people can be. Whatever was going on in my life, Jacob knew what I wasgoing through. “Sup Iz” he said as he gave me a high five. “Sup Jake” I said. And thatwas it. Good ol’ Jacob knows me too dam well.Chapter 5:The bus pulled up at our school with a screeching halt. At the very top of theschool, right above the door was a big Star of David. Under the star, there was a quotefrom the torah. It read ‘Bereshit barah elokeem’, which translated into ‘And in the beginning, God created the world’. I looked up at the enormous text. ‘Bullshit’ I thoughtto myself. I walked into the school only to be greeted by the school dress code enforcer.In this school, each boy was required to wear a kepa, which is like a small cap Jews wear on their heads to show off that they’re Jewish. I picked the kepa out of my pocket and putit on my head so as not to get in trouble. As soon as I was outside of the enforcer’s rangeof sight, I slipped the kepa back into my pocket. ‘I refuse the wear something I don’t believe in’ I told myself. It was ten minutes to eight when I got to my locker. I shoved allmy stuff in the cramped space and shut the door. A faint bell rang, signaling the beginning of morning prayer. A prayer with nothing new, the same thing everyday. Ientered the school synagogue to hear the sound of hundreds of kids murmuring the wordsof prayer in unison. I started to put on my tefilin, which a literally a few straps of leather that Jews put on that suddenly makes them more holy. The prayer book I lifted andopened up may as well have had wordless pages because it would be a cold day in hell before I said the words written in this book of lies. I couldn’t openly reject these prayers, because as soon as you do something someone else doesn’t like, they think it gives themthe right to dispute you about it, and I hate talking to people. I figured it was much easier for me and everyone else if I just pretended to pray, and so I did. I was no beginner at thiseither. No, I was an expert at deceiving people into thinking I was praying. I would makesure to stay on the right page, stand up and sit down at the right parts, and occasionallysway back and forth to show how ‘holy’ I was. As I was getting ready to rap up my tefilinand call an end to my little charade, out rabbi walks out onto the podium to make anannouncement. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention. I just want tosay a few words before I dismiss everyone to their classes.” This was usually the partwhen I stopped paying attention, but this time I couldn’t. “It’s been two months since theattack on 54
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street, at the burger king” he continued. I felt my heart drop. “Many peopledied that day, including the father of our very own Mr. Yitzchak Katzani” he said as he pointed over to me. I suddenly felt the glares of one hundred eyes aimed directly at me,and I hated the attention. I quickly covered my face and pretended to still be praying insilence. “I hope that we keep our prayers strong so that God will bring us peace with our fellow man” the rabbi carried on, apparently not noticing my embarrassment. “I hopeeveryone has a good day. First period starts in 10 minutes.” And with that, the ‘great’rabbi concluded his speech, and a sea of yeshiva kids rushed out the doors to make their classes.
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