Ought To & Can (A San Francisco Fable)

Part I: Ought To--Chapter 3

"Your debate coach is at the front door."

Beth tried to sound as soft and understanding as she could, knowing that Sabrina must feel fatally embarrassed right now.

Sure enough, the clock on the SoundAsleep SM-2100 said 7:19. Her alarm went off once. She'd hit snooze, she could clearly remember, but must've fell back to sleep immediately.

It wasn't that big of a deal. She was only nineteen minutes late, and she didn't live too far from the school anyway. And they had almost three hours to make the one-hour drive to Petaluma for the tournament. But knowing that a big school bus was tying up Steiner Street on her account certainly made her uneasy.

"Tell him to give me ten minutes." Sabrina had set out her planned outfit the night before, so she could get ready quicker. "Tell them I'm sorry."

On Friday nights before a Saturday tournament, Sabrina usually went to bed shortly after they returned home from erev Shabbos at the synagogue. But she was eager to dig in to the book she'd picked up at the library on the way home from school: Mormon America by Richard and Joan Ostling—"everything you ever wanted to know about the Mormons."

She was curious to learn about what life was like for SVCHMGG. It's a big book, over 400 pages, so she just skimmed here and there. The history of the church was interesting to read: sometimes fascinating, sometimes repulsive. She felt bad that someone like SVCHMGG had to revere flawed men like Joseph Smith and Brigham Young. But the material on Mormon culture had more resonance. It had its own idiosyncrasies, but she got the sense that growing up Mormon wasn't much different from growing up Orthodox. The weight of heritage and family. Rites of passage. The heavy burden of expectations. She was engrossed, so much so that when she looked at the clock and it was 1:30am, she panicked a bit. But she figured she could get a decent amount of sleep before she headed off to meet the bus at Sloat-Bushnell.

Obviously, she was wrong.

As Sabrina stepped on the bus she got an ovation from her teammates. She didn't mind. She deserved their sarcasm.

She was looking forward to the ride to the in Petaluma not only because SVCHMGG was certain to be there, but she enjoyed going north on Highway 101. It was the route the family always took to their getaway cottage outside of Mendocino. So many neat little landmarks that she'd memorized. Start with going over the Golden Gate Bridge, then the rainbow tunnel, the houseboats in Sausalito, the rolling hills, exit signs with names that sound like they belong in a medieval romance novel (Blithedale, Paradise, Sir Francis Drake, Terra Linda), the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Marin County Civic Center (which she always thought looked like the world's most delicious cake), concrete giving way to trees, and the first glimpse of vineyards.

When they arrived at the school and disembarked, Sabrina happened to glance over at the parking lot and saw SVCHMGG getting out of a car, all dressed up for competition.

Since this tournament was literally over the hill from Sonoma, the Sonoma Valley team just carpooled, but everyone else already arranged their rides, so Neil was able to just drive up alone. If 18 HIMMELSCHEIN had gotten a chance to look in his briefcase, she'd see that he'd been to the library as well, but he checked out three books: A History of the Jewish People, Leo Rosten's The Joys of Yiddish, and a Maimonides anthology.

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The preliminary extemp rounds were the usual furtive glances and daydreaming. Since they didn't get to hear each other's speeches, they weren't aware that their interest in each other's religious backgrounds had started to influence their material.