Ought To & Can (A San Francisco Fable)

Part II: Can--Chapter 16

Sabrina was 15 when the Melameds moved into their house in St. Francis Wood. She loved going there, partly because Lillian was the one sister she could stand being with, and partly because of the neighborhood.

St. Francis Wood was one of America's first planned subdivisions, back when that idea was seen as progressive and elegant. First opened in 1912, the "garden suburb" doesn't feel like some historic museum piece, it feels like Heaven. Trees and hedges and fountains, supporting impeccable houses that all look like they must be inhabited by perfect, beautiful, loving, well-scrubbed families.

And not a selfie-taking tourist in sight.

When Lillian announced they were moving there, it shocked the rest of the family a little. It shocked Kendra, who always thought her house in the Oakland Hills was the fairest of all the Himmelschein girls' houses. Fred fretted over how much money Lillian was spending (in a way he never fretted over Kendra's spending), until she assured him they were just renting to start out with. And of course everyone took satisfaction in a Jewish family moving into a neighborhood that a hundred years ago wouldn't have allowed Jews (or any non-Anglo-Saxons).

Sabrina had always wanted to stop in St. Francis Wood someday and just wander around. She was fascinated by this strange pastoral island in the urban sea, with only streetlights and an occasional NO PARKING sign to disturb the peace. Even the sidewalks were fancy, with etchings and shapes in the concrete.

The Melamed house on San Benito Way was a bit smaller than the other houses, which were like scale models of English country estates, but it made a nice antidote to the oppressing loveliness of the rest of the neighborhood, to keep it anchored in the real world. Sabrina walked between the bushes on the sidewalk up the long walkway to the front door. The door had been left open just a crack. Sabrina walked in without ringing the bell. She'd expected to see everyone gathered in the living room, but it was empty. Instead she could hear the voices of Lillian and Barbara in the kitchen.

"He was under so much stress. There was that big gender discrimination case he was presiding over back then," Sabrina heard Lillian say.

"Then the whole deal with Sabrina. I mean, can you imagine?"

Sabrina stayed in the living room. What was Barbara talking about? What could she imagine?

"Her last year in high school, she's supposed to be an adult. But she's lazy, no ambition. Just sits and draws pictures all day. And when he helps her, she just ignores him. She gets into Stanford, which she didn't deserve, and just drops out, like a total ingrate! Then she goes to Israel on Mom and Dad's dime. Did you ever see her express any gratitude?"

Barbara's tone seemed to cross over into anger as her voice raised. "If I had a lazy, spoiled, freeloading, good-for-nothing daughter like that, I'd probably start cheating too!"

Sabrina tiptoed back out the front door.

She left it open just a crack.

After that she did just wander around St. Francis Wood, but it was more in a daze than in awe. She knew that Barbara always looked down on her as the youngest, but here they were now, both adults. Barbara never took the time to even get to know Sabrina. Whenever they met, Barbara never once asked her "How are you doing?" In fact, Sabrina was straining her memory trying to recall a single time Barbara ever talked to her one-on-one. 

Who is she to judge me?

Sabrina ended up at the grand white "upper fountain" at the end of St. Francis Boulevard. It was January, so the water had long been turned off for the winter, but there was plenty of room where she could sit and compose herself.