Dear Reader,
I admit that the Jewish faith is a bit alien to me, just like the Kendall in this story. I apologize for any discrepancies ahead of time, and please feel free to message me with any corrections or suggestions. Long chapters! I likely will not update as often as I do with my other stories. Enjoy!
xoxo M
Part One: City Skyline
Chapter One
He starts to play on Saturdays, where he has found a stone wall that is well suited to his panhandling. Well, he prefers not to call it that, since it seems to imply homelessness. No, Kendall has a place to live and he supports himself by playing the guitar. It's not easy, but this is the life he has chosen. He only regrets the move slightly, since the cost of living in New York City is much higher than his hometown back in Kansas, but he's managing and doing alright. It's been about a month since he hiked out to the city and already something has piqued his interest.
This place that he plays on Saturdays is not just comfortable; there is a view that he enjoys. It's directly across from a synagogue and although one might question his choice of location for panhandling, it ends up doing alright. The swaths of well-dressed people on their way to service are not the most lucrative, but rather the tourists. Lumpy folks clad in khaki and pastel colors, clearly not from the city who probably look at him and see Kendall as an endearing native. Little do they know that he's just as Midwestern as they are. Ironic, sometimes, how life works out. They toss a dollar or two into the guitar case and by the end of the day he has some cash to save towards rent and maybe even enough for a burger and a Coke.
The Saturday service ends and a large group of people begin to leave the temple. They are mostly dark haired with strong features, kind faces and well-made clothes. Kendall finds the Jews to be particularly interesting since where he comes from they are little more than a race of Middle Easterners that live far across the ocean. He knows virtually nothing of their customs but the idea of learning might interesting. Well, interesting because of that one boy.
Yes. He leaves the synagogue now; a young man who stands taller than most of the crowd. Beneath a navy yarmulke embroidered with a silver lattice rests a lush head of chestnut hair. His features are smooth yet masculine, and Kendall guesses he's around his age, (early twenties or so). This fellow walks down the sidewalk next to a very young girl and behind two older people, likely his parents. There comes another man now, much older. He's dressed fancy with a light blue prayer shawl around his shoulders. He stops and talks to the boy Kendall has been eying. The older man seems to gesticulate and express himself in ways that tell Kendall he's some sort of a mentor for this young man. They chat for some time until the younger obviously needs to keep up with his family. His face lights up as he smiles. Kendall can't make out all of his features perfectly, but he's close enough. Of all the other people for Kendall to notice, he has picked this one guy because there's something special about him. Maybe it's his insane handsomeness. Maybe it's how he appears to be genuinely kindhearted (a concept that Kendall is beginning to find rare in the city). Either way, he's drawn like a moth to a flame. There is an added fervor to his guitar playing now, as he keeps his eyes fixated on the young man;
You and me Sunday driving,
Not arriving,
On our way back home
Unfortunately there is a wide street length between them, and through the clamor of the disbanding service there is no way that Kendall's music gets anywhere near the Jew. He continues to play but the feeling leaves. He wishes there is something he can do to make this boy talk to him, but how could there? Once the guitar case looks full enough, he calls it a day and packs up.
Home is a crowded townhouse apartment that he shares with three other people. He barely knows them as they are all on different paths in life, just trying to find a place to sleep at night. In general they are decent folks, but Kendall doesn't even bother to get to know them. At the end of the month, they pull together and make the rent, but everything else falls into place.
Kendall's room is the loft. It's accessible by a sort of trap door like an entrance to an attic. Well, it basically is an attic but they call it a loft to make it sound more attractive. Kendall doesn't care either way though. He grew up on a farm with two brothers; the concept of "rough" or "difficult" is alien to him.
Monday rolls around and he rolls out of his cot, one of the only pieces of furniture in the loft. Other than that, there is a shabby wooden dresser, a tiny table where he keeps his laptop and then a jumble of papers in the corner. As a songwriter, Kendall is constantly going through notebooks, pencils and guitar picks. He hasn't set up any decorations, especially since he isn't sure how long that one place will be his home. He lived the first 22 years of his life working his ass off back home, but for the time being he is a drifter, aimlessly floating wherever the wind takes him. This sort of excitement is what he wants in life, so he makes a point as to avoid anchoring anywhere.
It's after 10 o'clock, which means all of his roommates are already at work. Kendall opens up the hatch and climbs down the rickety stairs to the living room. They know he drinks coffee so there is always a somewhat fresh pot sitting on the counter. Isn't that sweet? Kendall pours himself a cup and stands in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the ground. His plan is to play in Central Park today. It's a sweet place to spend the entire day, not to mention chock full of tourists. So he gets dressed and makes his plans happen.
Winter is on its way. Bundled up in a nice but old blazer, Kendall takes his guitar out of the living space and catches a bus down to Central Park. It's a fairly long ride, but watching the people traffic makes enough entertainment, and even kind of an education, for Kendall to really enjoy himself. Two heavy, loud mouthed and typical "New Yorker" guys get on relatively early, stinking like fried meat and yelling at each other. Kendall sits at the very back of the bus and giggles to himself as people go on with their lives. Going from a small town where everybody knows each other to a big, anonymous city has been an incredible experience for Kendall. He's open minded enough that it doesn't frighten him at all.
Finally the bus stops off at the park, and Kendall tags behind a bunch of passengers who are leaving then, too. Even though it's cold, the weather is pleasant. Kendall takes a few moments to wander around and see where the biggest groups of people are and finally decides to stoop along a few rocks. With a messy repertoire of primarily Beatles songs, it seems appropriate to play somewhat close to the Strawberry Fields Memorial.
Some time goes by. Kendall picks up the swing of things. He plays and plays as droves of people shuffle by, many of them that drop money into his guitar case. Each bill or coin gets a friendly nod from Kendall, which most groups of young women find giggle-worthy. Occasionally he overhears them mumbling, "How's a cute guy end up like that?" or "He's better looking than a panhandler." Kendall thinks it's funny. The way people assume is always amazing.
With enough money for the day, Kendall closes up for the day and seeks out some food. It's only 3 o'clock, so he has plenty of time to relax. He made almost $100 in less than 4 hours! Mom will love to hear about that.
There's a hotdog cart wandering around one of the many ponds. It has a line, but not too bad. Kendall joins in and when it's his time, he points at the small menu and asks, "What makes a hotdog Kosher?"
"The way it's prepared," the overweight, bored looking vendor says. She's chewing gum. Is that Kosher?
"Oh, um, okay. Thanks. I'll just have a regular one I guess?"
As Kendall is given his late lunch, a voice from behind speaks to him. "You are not from around here, I should guess?"
He turns around and sees a pleasant looking old man. He has a heavy Yiddish accent and wrinkles around his eyes that are decades old. Kendall immediately recognizes him as the old man that the Jew he was eying on Saturday talked to.
"Nope. Kansas!" Kendall answers with a smile.
"Kosher is what we Jews call our dietary law."
"Oh, cool. I didn't know there was a whole law for eating."
"Yes, yes!" the old man says, nodding. "You must know very little about us."
"Basically nothing," Kendall admits. "I've been here about a month, so that's only a month of being around Jews. Jews? Is it polite to say that word?"
"Certainly! Why wouldn't it?"
"No idea."
"The Jewish faith is nothing to be afraid of, dear boy," the old man continues. "With a little knowledge, you will likely find yourself quite interested in it!"
"So are you like, a priest?"
The man laughs. His eyes wrinkle in a very kind hearted way, and Kendall can't help but giggle, too. "I'm a rabbi."
"What's that?" Kendall asks. He takes a bite of his hotdog and swallows.
"Similar to a priest," the man continues. "Is this something you are interested in?"
"I'm interested in everything," says Kendall. "I like to learn about everyone and everything."
"Very wise! You seem a very bright young man. I'm impressed. Many Jews carry a sort of arrogance about them, and wouldn't bother teaching a gentile about the faith, but I have learned in my many years of practice that to truly do mitzvah, you must accept everyone."
"You just used a lotta new words!" Kendall says. He now finishes his food and tosses the wax wrapper it was on in a nearby trashcan.
"If I have you intrigued," the rabbit says. "I would be more than delighted to have a discussion with you about Judaism. What was your name?"
"Kendall. And I would love that! You're so nice. Oh my gosh, thank you so much!"
"Kendall? That's very unusual. It's unusual but I like the sound of it! Tell me, Kendall, what are you doing with that guitar? Are you a student?"
"Nope," Kendall says, popping his lips. He pats the guitar and smiles. "She came out here with me. How I pay my rent."
"Ahhh, a young musician. I like you already, Kendall! Here," the old man takes a notepad and pen from his lapel pocket and scribbles something down with care. He hands it to Kendall with a flourish. "Here are my hours and where you can find me. Please Kendall, come at any time here that you wish. I would love to speak with you more."
"Wow, fantastic. You're really nice, you know that? I basically have no friends in this city so far."
"My dear boy, you have a friend in me."
"I appreciate that, err," Kendall looks at the paper. "Rabbi Berkovic."
He goes to the rabbi's office the next day around 3. To his surprise, it is attached to the same synagogue that he had been playing at on Saturday. Next to the entrance to the actual building is a smaller door with the exact street address that Rabbi Berkovic had given to Kendall. According to the note, he is available to talk, so Kendall walks right in. He is immediately greeted by a warm, dark room. There is a soft looking blue sofa and a coffee table covered with neatly arranged magazines. Kendall steps inside casually, keeping his hands in his pockets. There is another door over to the left and he now hears voices through it.
"I have the utmost confidence in your sister," he hears the rabbi say.
"Well, you know," another voice says. It sounds much younger.
"I've watched the both of your grow up. I'm not worried at all," the rabbi says.
Kendall stands around in the small room awkwardly, listening to these two people talk. Then the door opens up and they come in. First is the rabbi, looking just as old and Jewish as before, but behind him is none other than the young man Kendall had been eying just days before.
"Kendall, my friend!" The rabbi says, raising his hands in the air. "I'm so delighted to see you! Come in, come in. This is a good friend of mine, James. I've been mentoring him his entire life."
"Nice to meet ya, James," says Kendall. He waves slightly and James smiles.
"Kendall? Is that what you said?" James asks the rabbi, who nods. "Hello Kendall." He looks at Kendall with a cute smile. His face is movie star handsome, with flawless skin and rosy lips. Kendall wants to kiss him but, well…
"Kendall is a new friend of mine," says the rabbi. "He's from Kansas, now living in the city as a musician. He's come to see me so he can learn about our faith."
"Oh!" James says. "Awesome. What religion are you?"
"My parents raised me as a Christian," Kendall shrugs. "But I've never been into anything much. I like to learn as much about everything before I can make any conclusions."
"A very wise young man," Rabbi Berkovic nods. He passes by the boys and goes through another door, which seems to lead to a kitchenette. "Can I get you anything, Kendall? Coffee? Tea?"
"No thanks," Kendall says. He can't take his eyes off of James. Although he's right in front of him, it's hard for Kendall to acknowledge that he's real. James has sparkling hazel eyes and a jawline that is to die for. He's wearing a deep navy blazer with a Burberry scarf tucked into the collar.
Rabbi Berkovic comes back into the room with a paper cup full of coffee for himself. "Make yourself and home, Kendall."
"Thanks," Kendall says. He takes a seat on the sofa there and falls into it. James sits next to him.
"Do you have time to stay, James?" the rabbi asks.
"Sure."
Kendall looks at James and swallows tightly. Honestly he wasn't there just to chat James up; he really wants to hear about Judaism and the rabbi is genuinely a nice guy. He takes a seat across from the boys and sips from the cup.
"The Jewish faith is almost 4,000 years old. Isn't that incredible? We still practice it today because it holds true…"
The "lesson" goes on for about an hour. Rabbi Berkovic gives a basic history of his religion's origin. Kendall listens attentively, loving this education he's getting. The whole time, James sits with his hands folded in his lap. He smiles sweetly and adds his two cents to the conversation when asked. Kendall still can't believe how gorgeous he is. Just fantastically, drop dead gorgeous.
"I think that is enough for one day," the rabbi says. "I could go on for eons, but the both of you have other things to do, am I right?"
"I could stay all day, Rabbi Berkovic," James says. "But I'll leave. No problem. Kendall? Are you going home now?"
"Sure. Rabbi? Thank you so much! This was really cool." Kendall stands up and goes to shake the rabbi's hand.
"Oh, Kendall! Of course. I always have time to teach my faith. It was a real pleasure to have you here. And James? Thank you for staying. You've added a lot of good to my teaching."
James gets up too and heads for the door. He holds it open. "Kendall?"
"I'm coming. Thanks!" He runs through the threshold and back out onto the street. James tags behind.
"Are you just going home?" the brunet asks.
"Yeah. You?"
"My mother will want me home for dinner, so yes. How did you meet the rabbi?"
"Just ran into him at Central Park. He's a really cool guy."
The boys walk down the sidewalk together. It's a calm and peaceful scene. The wind is still but the air is cold and crisp, which obviously chills James and turns his cheeks bright red. "Like he said, I've known him my whole life," he says.
"That's cool. He's neat."
James looks over at Kendall quickly and smiles, but Kendall doesn't even notice. He's a bit too nervous to glance at him even for a second.
"You've only been in the city for a month, right?" James asks.
"Yup."
"Sick of the country?"
"It wasn't the farm that pushed me away. No, not at all," Kendall explains. They turn down a corner, heading towards the bus stop. He wonders if James is actually going home or if he is following him to be polite. "In fact I still miss the country stars every night. I plan on returning there someday. Maybe soon, maybe in a few years. Right now, all I'm certain is that there is something for me in this crazy city."
"Ahh," James sighs. He looks up. "Country stars."
"Yeah, y'all don't even know what stars are out here!" Kendall chirps. He stops at the bus stop. "Are you taking the bus, too?"
"No, but I wanted to keep talking to you."
"Ohh, cool. You ever been out to the Midwest?"
James shakes his head. "I've never left the east coast."
"Do you want to?"
"Someday, yes." James sighs. He kicks at the ground. "I get sick of the city."
The bus that Kendall needs comes barreling down the road. "That's mine," Kendall says. He steals a glance over at the Jewish boy and turns bright red. His skin is shimmering beautifully in the late afternoon sunlight. "I'll see you around, right?"
"Yes," James says. He bites his lower lips and turns away quickly. "See you."
