Although Debby and Devory were cousins of the same age, both
named after the same person and both resembling their
identical fathers, it was well known that their personalities
were as different as summer and winter. The two of them lived
in the same city, attended the same school, the same class,
yet had virtually nothing to do with one another. Each of
them had her own characteristics, her own styles and tastes,
and her own circle of friends. Of course, they weren't
enemies; they simply had little in common. Each had paved her
own path for life and were both uncomfortable when,
occasionally, their paths crossed. All their kith and kin
(most of whom was mutual to the two of them) were long
accustomed to the mere reality. Reality is reality, after
all, rigid and clear as that.
Devory was known as the more outgoing one. She was loud and
domineering, yet not overly so. A capable girl, aware of her
capabilites, she was never resistant in the face of
challenges. When anyone needed anything done, they would
always turn to Devory. Being both responsible and willing to
help and almost relentlessly goal- driven, she was the
perfect candidate.
Sitting idle was the thing Devory despised most of all. She
was made to do, to go, to accomplish. She was in charge of
most class activities, and would arrange any situation that
was in need of being organized. Devory was an intelligent
student who achieved good grades with the minimum effort, so
she had the time to take charge of most extracurricular
activities without losing sleep. She was the take-charge type
and her opinion was respected. In short, a natural leader.
Debby, on the other hand, was much more of a thinker. She was
comparatively quiet and far less hasty to state her opinion.
Although her intelligence easily matched that of her cousin,
she was not the type who commented on every issue raised. She
felt no need to constantly be on the run. In fact, she
preferred to stay home and curl up with a book rather than
partake in a class activity, most of the time. Their
personalities were just about as different as they come.
*
"Good morning, girls!" a small woman with sparkling green
eyes, a face full of freckles and a sheitel of blazing
red hair, skipped cheerfully into the classroom of curious
girls, all of whom looked up, startled, from the notes they'd
been reviewing.
"I have a very exciting announcement to make," the woman
continued as she closed the door firmly behind her. "Your
homeroom teacher, Mrs. Cram, has just given birth to a baby
girl. I wish you all a big Mazel Tov, girls." The beaming
woman smiled broadly across the room for what seemed like an
eternity. She stared at the class in its entirety, slowly
shifting her gaze from one side of the class to the other,
her glowing smile lighting up her face the whole while. The
uncomfortable girls looked at one another uncertainly. Who
was this woman?
"It seems as though you have not yet digested the news," the
woman spoke up at last, her smile never once fading. "Where's
your applause, girls? This is a special occasion!" The girls
snapped out of their trance and applauded loudly.
"There you go, that sounds more like it!" the red-headed
woman nodded approvingly. "And now for the introductions. My
name is Morah Pessie Kirshenbaum, and I'm to fill the place
of your beloved Mrs. Cram for the next couple of months. Not
that I am a worthy replacement for a teacher of such special
character, but I'm afraid you'll have to make do. I'll try my
best..." her smile took on an apologetic touch.
"Does anyone have any questions at this point?" the teacher
paused, as though she had just given over a deeply
intellectual lesson that needed time to be absorbed.
No one moved. They just kept their gazes set fixedly on the
ball of joyous energy that was supposedly their teacher.
Morah Pessie glanced disdainfully at the grade book before
her. "I don't approve of such things," she commented aloud.
"I hope to know you all well enough that this sort of thing
will not be called for. As of now, however, I have no choice
but to use it until I know your names. If I don't take
attendance, it will take longer for me to know you girls by
name." She opened the book.
"Sara Adler," she began. "Hmmm, you look just like an Etty
Adler in my daughter's play group. Any relation?"
"Yes, she's my sister."
"Oh, wonderful, wonderful. I know your mother very well.
She's an outstanding lady." Morah Pessie stood up, and drew
closer to her students. "You know, girls, I will be adding a
subject called middos to the curriculum. You'll never
believe this, but Mrs. Adler was going to be my prime example
for the midda of organization and cleanliness. You
should see how immaculate she and her two-year-old daughter,
Etty, always are. Take a look at Sara, here. She, too,
obviously inherited this important trait from her mother."
The teacher turned back to her grade book. "Baila Berman..."
She looked up at the girl whose hand was raised and peered at
her, squinting. "You look familiar. Let me just remember...
Oh!" it struck her suddenly. "You must be the graddaughter of
Rebbetzin Chaya Tova Berman." Baila nodded.
"Wow!" Morah Pessie appeared awestruck. "What an unbelievable
grandmother you were blessed with. What phenomenal
yichus! Your grandmother was my teacher, you know. I
learned so much from her. Tell me, how is she doing?"
"She passed away last month."
"What?" The teacher grabbed the back of her chair, as if to
keep from collapsing right then and there. "I can't believe I
didn't hear about that. What a shame, what a pity." She was
silent for a moment, and then said, "Girls, please remind me
to dedicate one of my hashkofa classes to that great
woman. There is so much we can learn from her. So, so much."
She shook her head sadly.
And so it went on. The teacher seemd to be familiar with some
friend or relative of every one of her pupils. She had a lot
to say about each of them, too.
Then she reached the `G's. "Devora Greenbaum... you seem to
be listed here twice."
The class was quick to explain. "No. There are two Devora
Greenbaum's in our class. One we call Devory, and the other
one is Debby."
"Who is whom?"
The two girls raised their hands and each stated her own
name. The teacher stood up once again and drew nearer to the
girls. She looked from one Devora to the other, scrutinizing
each of them from head to toe. Both of them were tall and
slim, both had curly black ponytails and both had the same
olive complexion. "The two of you look exactly alike. You're
cousins, aren't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she went
on. "Why, you're so identical that I would never be able to
tell you apart... if not for your eyes, of course."
The entire class shot the teacher the same bewildered look.
What on earth did she mean by being able to tell them apart
through their eyes? Their eyes were the most identical of all
their features. The same deep blue, the same almond shape.
This teacher was definitely a strange bird.
"It's amazing to see how different are the messages that each
of your eyes portray. I've never seen anything quite like
it." She stared at them a moment longer. "Tell me, do the two
of you have any fun together?"
Caught off guard, neither cousin knew what to say. The class
began snickering.
"What's so funny?" the teacher looked around and surveyed the
class. "No, I was just thinking how much fun Devory and
Debbie must have together. They look exactly alike and even
have the same name." She turned back to the cousins. "Did
either of you ever impersonate the other?" Amusement was
playing in her sparkly green eyes.
Devory glanced uneasily at her cousin and then back at the
teacher. "We, uh, prefer to stay out of trouble..."
"Oh, what wonderful girls. I'm sorry if I gave you an
inappropriate idea. You girls are absolutely right! I used to
be best friends with a set of identical twins and they were
constantly playing games like that. They were really
adorable... but then again, I was just a friend. Our teachers
may have viewed their shenanigans differently. Anyway," she
shot a quick glimpse at her watch, "we had better get on with
things. I didn't realize how time flew. I never do..." she
smiled sheepishly.
The moment she finished taking attendance, the bell rang.
"Oh, too bad," she sighed. "I had a lot I wanted to discuss
with you girls, but I guess it will all have to wait. Class
dismissed! It was a pleasure meeting you." With that, the
teacher's small figure turned and left the room.
*
It had been a long, tedious day, as Tuesdays always were in
the eighth grade classroom. Tuesday was their homeroom
teacher's day off and in her stead, the day was crammed with
hours of math, grammar and the like. By the time two o'clock
rolled along, with two hours of science and history yet
ahead, the girls felt like they could take it no longer.
But just when they had given up all hope of ever being
rescued, a redeeming angel appeared in the form of a red-
headed dynamo.
"Good afternoon, girls!" Mrs. Kirshenbaum exclaimed as she
made her way into the classroom, eyes twinkling. "I missed
you so much that I decided I just had to come see you. I
always get so excited at the sight of my students. Actually,
this is more than just a visit. I arranged with the teacher
who is normally here at this time to let me borrow you girls
for a while. I have an urgent matter to discuss with you, and
it was very gracious of Mrs. Trainer to agree."
Simultaneously, everyone breathed a soundless sight of
relief. Science had been canceled!
"Okay, I might as well get straight to the point. It's been
decided by the school administration that we, as the senior
class of our school, will be putting on a Pesach performance
for the entire school this year. The performance is scheduled
for Rosh Chodesh Nissan, which leaves us with precisely two
weeks to get organized." All at once, everyone began
talking.
"Shh!" Morah Pessie raised a hand in an attempt to regain
control of the class. "Please be quiet for just a few more
minutes, girls. We have a lot to discuss in a very short
time." As if by some spell, silence was reinstated.
"Now, it just so happens that I specialize in plays and
drama. I composed a play especially designed for our class,
with our two identical cousins at its center."
She flashed the two girls a radiant smile. "Naturally, this
will demand complete cooperation between the two of you, in
addition to numerous rehearsals, but I don't suppose this
will pose a problem, right?"
The teacher said it all so quickly and naturally that the
cousins hardly had time to digest the significance of the
proposal. All they knew was that they'd been presented with a
unique opportunity and that their teacher was counting on
them. "No problem, Morah," Devory was enthusiastic. Debby,
too, eagerly nodded her consent.
"Wonderful!" Morah Pessie rubbed her hands together in
satisfaction. "So now that that's settled, I'll hand out the
scripts. You have about five minutes to scan through them and
then we'll have tryouts. Sorry about the rush, but we really
need to have all the parts settled today." She removed a
stack of scripts from her briefcase and hurriedly handed them
out.
*
It was Thursday, her day off, and Pessie Kirshenbaum stood
alongside her kitchen counter, skimming through the worn-out
pages of one cookbook after another. None of the recipes
seemed right. She'd been determined to bake her family
something more than an ordinary chocolate mud cake, this
week, but she didn't seem to have any of the ingredients that
the more complicated pastries called for. She couldn't decide
what to do. More than anything, she longed to just throw a
few basic ingredients into her big mixer bowl and be finished
with the whole prospect of a fancy dessert. But the
conversation she'd had with her daughter the night before
kept coming back to plague her.
"Mommy," nine-year-old Yael had called Pessie back to her
bedside, just as she turned to leave the room after kissing
her children goodnight.
"Yes, cookie?" Pessie turned around and eyed her daughter
questioningly. "What's the matter?"
"When's your play gonna be over?"
"My play?" Pessie had asked in surprise. "You mean the one my
class is putting on for Pesach?"
"Yeah, of course that's the one." Suddenly, a wary look came
over her eyes as a thought struck her. "Wait. You mean you're
doing another play when this one's over?"
Pessie walked back over to her daughter's bed and squeezed
Yael tightly. "No, cookie, this is the only play I'll be
doing for a while." She sat herself down on the edge of the
soft mattress and eyed her daugher worriedly. "Why do you
ask? Does the play bother you?"
"No..." Yael was hesitant. The last thing she wanted was to
hurt her mother's feelings. "I just wanted to know."
But Pessie knew better. "Yael. Please tell me what's
wrong."
"It's nothing. I was just wondering when we would stop eating
scrambled eggs and tuna."
Pangs of guilt tugged at Pessie's conscience as she recalled
the frantic afternoon schedule that had been her own for the
past week. She'd arrive home every afternoon just in time to
greet her starving children and hastily scramble up some eggs
for their lunch. She would listen to the anecdotes of their
day with half an ear as she tried to feed the baby and listen
for the arrival of the baby sitter. It was always a relief
when she finally came. Before running off to the rehearsals,
Pessie remembered to point out the cans of tuna sitting on
the counter that were to be mixed with mayonnaise and served
to her children for dinner.
With a start, she had realized that her daughter was still
awaiting an answer so she had smiled and said, "Don't you
worry, Yaeli dear. The play will be over and done with before
you know it. Now please go to sleep. It's getting late."
But the memory of that conversation refused to leave her in
peace. It was what had coaxed her to make the beautiful
Shabbos meal she'd just cooked up and it was what was urging
her to make a trip to the supermarket, right now, to acquire
the necessary ingredients for the three-layer wild berry
short cake she had decided on baking. The feeling of guilt
eventually succeeded in overcoming her fatigue so she tore
herself out of her motley-colored robe and slipped into a
black skirt and lavender sweater. For a fleeting moment, she
considered breaking her habit and going out in her snood, but
then she thought the better of it and threw on her wig of
fiery red hair. Then, before she could change her mind, she
fled from her home.
*
It usually took ten-minutes from her house to the local
grocery and Pessie made it there in due time, despite the few
stops she made to talk to acquaintances she passed on the
way. Pretty soon she found herself marching up and down the
aisles of Goodman's Kosher Market, occasionally tossing items
off the shelves and into her shopping cart.
So engrossed was she in the variety of berries that she
failed to notice the woman nearby, scrutinizing her
searchingly.
"Excuse me?" the woman finally said. Pessie looked up,
startled.
"My name is Shoshana Greenbaum. You don't happen to be Pessie
Kirshenbaum?"
"Yep. So you must be the mother of Debby Greenbaum."
Shoshana Greenbaum chuckled. "Considering what I've heard
about you, only good, of course, I shouldn't really be
surprised at how you had me pegged at first glance. How's the
play coming along?"
"Fantastic! Everything's working out beautifully. You know,
it's more than a coincidence that we met here. I've been
meaning to talk to you for a long time."
"Is anything the matter?"
"Well... no, not really. First of all, I wanted to tell you
how much I adore your daughter. She's got a good head on her
shoulders, that Debby of yours, and it shows not only in her
schoolwork but in her whole approach to life. On top of that,
she's sweet as can be and also a wonderful actress."
"Wow. thank you. I do think pretty highly of her, myself."
"Quite understandably. But you know, there's one thing that
really bothers me."
"What's that?"
"It's the way she gets on with her cousin Devory. Until now,
I realized that their relationship wasn't exactly great, but
I wasn't aware that they have absolutely nothing to do with
each other. Not only is it a big shame, but it also has an
extremely detrimental effect on the quality of the
performance. You see, the success of the play is very
dependent on their coordination."
Mrs. Greenbaum heaved a deep sigh. "There's not much I can do
about it. This has been the situation since day one. The
girls are just so different.'
"But that's just where they're mistaken! True, they have
different personalities, different styles, but in essence,
they're very much alike. Sure, your daughter is much quieter,
less outgoing, but I'm sure that if they ever sat down to
talk to each other, they'd find that they have a lot in
common. There would probably be a lot that they agreed
upon."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes, I really do. And I intend to do something to make them
see it, too. They're going to have no choice but to talk to
each other."
*
Devory walked up the small cobblestone path and knocked
lightly on the large oak door. A young girl with a short
pageboy of brownish hair with red highlights opened the door.
Without a word, she scurried shyly away to call her
mother.
"Hello, Devory!" Morah Pessie appeared in the doorway, her
daughter tugging at the edge of her skirt. "I'm so glad
you're here. Please come inside." Devory accepted the
invitation and closed the door behind her.
"Devory, please meet my oldest daughter, Yaeli. Yael, this is
Devory." As she said this, there was another knock on the
door and Pessie hurried to open it.
"Hello, Debby! You've arrived just in time to be a part of
the introduction." Debby was ushered inside and quickly
introduced to Yael. Her teacher was tempted to add, "And now
the time has come for me to introduce you girls to each
other," but she wisely refrained. Instead, she said simply,
"Come, I'll show you to the living room.
The girls could only stare at their teacher's back, trying to
guess why they'd been summoned to her home, as she led them
into the homey, wood paneled living room. In the room's
center stood an antique wooden table laden with the last few
slices of wild berry short cake alongside a glass pitcher of
blueberry juice. Brown and beige couches sat on either side
of the table, and Morah Pessie gestured to her students to
sit down. She, herself, sat down on the couch opposite
them.
"Look, girls. There's a very specific reason that I called
you two over this evening. You are both fantastic actresses
but there is something seriously wrong. In order for the play
to succeed, you need to have good eye contact and show that
you understand each other. In the first scene, when the
tragedy befalls, you need to genuinely feel sorry for one
another, a bond of closeness is supposed to form between you.
Then, when you come up with your plan, you have to talk to
each other as would very close identical twins. The way you
girls do things, the audience will be completely confused.
According to what you say, you sound like loving sisters, but
the coldness in your eyes makes it seem as though there's
some large barrier between you. Do you know what I'm saying?"
The girls eyed each other uncomfortably but neither said a
word.
"I don't know exactly why," the teacher continued, "but you
don't seem comfortable together. Is it because you think
you're different?" Devory nodded hesitantly.
"I see. Look, you don't have to accept anything I say, but in
my humble opinion, you're making a very big mistake. True,
your personalities do differ, but there are times in life
that you gotta look deeper, girls. Sometimes, to glance
fleetingly at the surface is simply not enough; you have to
look more closely and see the essence -- the stuff you girls
are made of. When you do that, you'll perceive your
undeniable similarities."
Morah Pessie glanced at her watch. "It's Yaeli's bedtime now,
and I think she deserves my attention for a while. I'm going
to put her to bed, but you stay here and talk, girls. I'll be
back in about fifteen minutes and then we'll have some more
rehearsals. And I expect them to be very different." She rose
and strode towards the living room door. As she retreated
from the room, she added with a twinkle, "Just don't start
fainting on me if you discover that you actually agree on
something."
Their teacher having disappeared, Debby and Devory were left
staring at each other, bewildered expressions making up their
faces. Debby looked into Devory's eyes in consternation, and
Devory averted her gaze and stared up at the ceiling. And
then they both burst out laughing. They laughed and they
laughed and simply didn't stop, until Devory wiped her eyes
dry and managed to say, "So what do you think of our
teacher?" And then, uncontrollable bouts of laughter took
hold of them once again.
*
The lights in the auditorium dimmed and then blacked out
completely. Only the stage was flooded with light. and in its
center stood two identical girls who eyed each other
meaningfully, and smiled ever so slightly. Then they plunged
into their roles.
In the audience, only three women perceived the new look in
the girls' eyes. And although the play had just begun, to
those three it seemed that the evening had already reached
its climax.
