Writings / Fiction

Sharon (as Toinette): Yes.

Avrum (as Angelique, beseechingly): Don’t you think that the way he came to
my help without knowing me was most chivalrous?

Sharon as Toinette: Yes.

Avrum (angelically): He couldn’t have behaved more generously, could he?

Sharon (as Toinette): No.

Avrum (as Angelique, seeking affirmation): And all done so charmingly.

Sharon as Toinette: Oh yes.

Avrum (an eager ingenue): Don’t you think he’s very nice looking, Toinette?

Sharon (as Toinette): Of course.

Avrum (a starry-eyed ingenue): And that he has a most attractive way with him?

Sharon (as Toinette): No doubt about it.

(A rapturous) Avrum: And that there’s something noble in everything he says and does?

Sharon as (Toinette ): Certainly.

Avrum (wistfully): And no one could talk more lovingly to me?

Sharon (as Toinette): True.

Avrum (as thwarted naif, stumbles over the classical language, yet courageously carries on): And that the way they keep me under restraint and prevent any exchange of the tender affection that mutually inspires us is too annoying for anything?

Sharon (as Toinette): Quite right.

Avrum (as Angelique, mooning): “But, my dear Toinette, do you think he loves me as much as he says he does?”

Sharon’s father extends the script away from his face, shakes his head and peers at her over his reading glasses, dropping out of one character, into another. “You got a hard part, here.” For the first time, Sharon smiles.

A jangle of keys outside the door alerts father and daughter to the arrival of the matriarch of the house.

“HELL LOW! I’M HOOOME!” Rena trumpeted her entrance like the musicians in Elizabethan costume in front of the Festival Theatre at Stratford. “Avrum! What on earth are you doing!,” she upbraids her husband, who was splayed across the sofa languishing like La Dame aux Camellias.

“What does it look like!” Avrum shot back. “I am rehearSALing!”

“Oysh.” Rena’s slanted slate-blue eyes rolled in their sockets. “Help me with these bags, FLATso.” Rena pushed her purchases onto her daughter. “You should see what I got for you!” Rena had had a field day outfitting her daughter. For the first time, she could afford it. Sharon still refused to choose her own clothes – shopping expeditions had always ended in tears due to her indecision. “I found this gorgeous gown on sale at the new shopping center across the street – imagine; all those stores under one roof! – the only other place you can go from store to store without getting cold is Place Ville Marie! Anyway, it has draped shoulders, a cinched waist, and it’s a size 10. With your height and your figure, you’ll look like a goddess!”

“Size 10! That’s ridiculous, Mummy.”

“You have a distorted image of yourself, darling. The saleslady said that if you don’t like it, I can bring it back.”

“So, Lady Boss,” Avrum inquired, eyeing the bags. “How much money did you save today?” Rena and Avrum were partners in life and in business. Rena did the buying; Avrum did the selling. “You know it’s against my religion to buy anything at full price.” Rena came as close to answering as she ever would.

“I hate to sell, but I love to buy! What I found to show off your figure, darling. Go ahead. Try it on!”

Sharon had been a chubby child, and she had been obese in high school. Rena had struggled with her own weight, and with her daughter’s weight, all their lives.

“Later!,” Sharon ducked. She would never try on clothes except in complete privacy. She would explore her mother’s closet when her parents were at work and her brother was out playing hockey. She kept no mirrors in her room. She would borrow the outfits she fancied, unaware that they had been bought for her.

“Where’s your brother?”

“In his room.”

Rena knocked. The children had been taught to knock on closed doors. Rena had set the
example.

“Hi Mikey!”

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About The Author

S. Nadja Zajdman is a writer and an actress living in Montreal. Her short stories, essays and memoirs have been published in newspapers, magazines and literary journals, as well as being aired on radio. Her theatre roles include the one-woman show, Shirley Valentine, and the title role in Sheindele. In an all-female production of Julius Caesar she played a vicious assassin, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Currently, Nadja is completing a short story collection.