A Threefold Cord. Howard Goldenberg
talking with someone in the house at the back. He knocked and found the person with Nystagmus was Jennifer. Snoth told them about the onion and about his idea.
And that was the day they started the Threefold Cord.
(We’ll have to wait a while to find out whether Snoth escaped from the cruel boy and the terrifying adult.)
Chapter Five
The next day Jennifer arrived at school just in time for class. Her eyes were red and swollen. The teacher was very strict: you weren’t allowed to talk. Nystagmus asked Jennifer with his eyes: What’s wrong?
You would get into trouble even if you passed a note to someone. Jennifer wrote one word on the back of her hand – LATER. She showed it to Nystagmus, then she showed it to Snoth who sat on her other side. Her friends nodded. Every so often they heard Jennifer sniff. It made Snoth think: What’s made Jen cry? I can’t smell onions …
At recess the three met behind the toilets. It was a smelly place and no-one liked to go there. So it was a good place for talking privately, for secrets.
Jennifer pulled her friends close so she wouldn’t have to speak loudly. Snoth and Nystagmus stared, wondering about Jennifer’s news. Jennifer’s mouth opened, then closed. She shook her head. The boys saw tears in her eyes. Nystagmus couldn’t bear it. He had to know: What? What’s happened?
Jennifer took a deep breath. She opened her mouth and her whisper was like a shout: “She’s dead!”
Two boys gasped: “Who? Who’s dead?” – came from two throats. Nystagmus thought of Papou and Yaya. They were old. Old people could die, he knew that because his grandmother’s sister had died in Cyprus.
Jennifer’s voice came again, a whisper half choked by tears: “The old lady. There was a big black car outside her cottage. And two men. Their car had words on the side: Jim’s Funerals.”
Snoth’s arms were around Jennifer’s shoulders. Nystagmus hugged them both. No-one spoke. No-one needed to. Six wet eyes, six sniffing runny nostrils, no words. Three friends thinking about a thin old lady. They didn’t know her name. None of them had ever spoken with her. Just an old lady who had only an onion and no friends.
The bell rang for class. Jennifer said: “Every time I see an onion I will think of her and I will remember.”
She smiled. Snoth and Nystagmus smiled back. Then they all laughed. In class they thought of onions and they smiled inwardly. They felt better, they had each other.
(If those children are always eating onions and crying and sniffing, why don’t they carry hankies?)
Chapter Six
The three never forgot the old lady and her tears. They made sure of it by peeling and eating the Onions of Weeping.
The first Sunday after the old lady was taken away by Jim’s Funerals, the friends met in the house of Nystagmus’ grandparents. No-one planned it, no-one said, “Let’s meet on Sunday”. They all knew they should go. And they did.
Nystagmus spoke first: “Grown-ups shouldn’t cry. Crying is okay for children. When I see a grown-up crying I’m scared. It feels like, maybe the world is broken.”
Jennifer agreed. “I saw that old lady crying and I felt scared. Something was so wrong it frightened me. I knew I had to do something.”
Snoth listened to his friends quietly. His mind was full of ideas. It would be hard to say them in words: “Tears are like rain. If there is no rain, nothing grows. But if there is too much rain it can just drown everyone and everything. Like Noah’s flood, in the Bible.
“Same with tears. If people had no tears we wouldn’t know their sadness. Tears are a message: someone needs help. Or a friend …”
That was a long speech by Snoth. He did not know if his friends would understand what he meant. Suddenly he felt shy. He looked up. Jennifer and Nystagmus were nodding. Then Jennifer did something he didn’t expect. She stood up and put out her right hand. She took Snoth’s hand and shook it solemnly. Snoth felt good. From his fingers to his shoulder to his head Snoth felt good. A friend understood.
Then Nystagmus did something unexpected. He walked over to Snoth and kissed his right cheek. Then he kissed Snoth’s left cheek. Snoth’s hand wandered to his face. Nystagmus said: “Papou and all his men friends from Cyprus kiss like that. It means ‘brother’”; you and I are brothers.”
That day the three started to make their Secret Rules. And they gave each other nicknames. Nystagmus became “Stagger” because he used to be wobbly on his feet when he first started school. Nystagmus and Snoth called Jennifer “Jenie” – short for “jenius” – because she knew things no other child ever thought of. They couldn’t think of a nickname for Snoth; his name already sounded like it was short for something. Snoth explained: “Snoth was the Icelandic King of Fire and Ice. It’s an old family name.”
That night Snoth asked his Saba – that’s what he called his grandfather – “Saba, does the Bible say it’s not good for a person to be alone? Or anything like that?”
Saba took down a great big heavy brown book. The great book had no pictures, but Snoth loved the stories Saba read from this book when he was a baby, too young for school. He loved them still, even now he was ten, practically grown up.
Now Saba read to Snoth from the book he called Ecclesiastes. It wasn’t a story but as Snoth listened he could feel the words were strong and true. Saba said: “I’ll write those verses down for you, Snoth.”
Saba closed the big heavy book. Before he put it back on the shelf he kissed it. Snoth wondered: So Saba is a kisser too. I didn’t know he came from Cyprus.
(Sleep well children. I won’t tell you tonight about the fierce person behind the mirror sunglasses: I don’t want you to have bad dreams.)
Chapter Seven
Something puzzled Nystagmus. The question came to him while he lay in bed at night as he listened to Papou snore. He listened and he waited for his beloved grandfather to take another breath. Papou breathed and Nystagmus relaxed. The question was: When we went into that garden and saved the cat, why did that grownup suddenly run away?
That adult looked so frightened when Snoth just said the one word – Police. A good person would not be afraid of the police.
More questions: And is that person a man or a lady? What does he or she want to hide? What if it’s not a human person – what if it’s a witch or a wizard! Nystagmus shuddered. He knew such things were not real but in the dark night they could still make him really scared.
He thought about these things until his brain was tired. He was nearly asleep when one new scary question woke him like a splash of cold water: If that is a bad person, is there something I should do?
Papou was breathing just fine. Nystagmus didn’t need to stay awake. But now sleep would not come. He heard the clock ticking and tocking loudly. He heard cars in the street. The wind blew the branches of the trees outside his window and the dog next door barked a few times. And then all the world fell asleep. Everything slept but Nystagmus.
He remembered a child’s face, a small face, the face of a very young boy. It was the face of the boy who swung the striped cat. The boy’s face was not just cruel; he looked scared. Not just scared, terrified.
Nystagmus had not fallen asleep, he had fallen into dreaming, halfway between asleep and awake. And that child’s face seemed to be a sort of answer to Nystagmus’ questions. If we can find out what terrified the cruel boy we might discover what the scary grownup was hiding. And then we would know what we have to do.