No Vacancy: Chapters 10–18

My stomach twinges and I’m not sure if it’s because Uncle Mordy has scheduled another swim lesson at noon or because, well, because some woman is bringing her husband to be healed by a fake Virgin Mary apparition.

“Shabbat shalom,” I say. “That’s what we say on Shabbat. Shalom means peace. And hello and goodbye.”
“Very versatile,” Mr. Whitley says. "Shabbat shalom.”

I explained to her about Yom Kippur, when Jews fast and pray in synagogue all day, thinking about the bad things they did the past year and what they need to do to be a better person. We’re supposed to ask forgiveness from the person we hurt. We don’t confess to the rabbi though.

Then the rabbi starts her sermon. She tells a story from the Torah about a man named Balaam who was a sorcerer.

Then the rabbi starts her sermon. She tells a story from the Torah about a man named Balaam who was a sorcerer.

“No, we live on the outskirts of Greenvale,” Dad says. "We bought and moved into the Jewel Motor Inn at the end of June.”

“You know Father Donovan?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says. “All the clergy in the area get together a couple of times a year to talk about various concerns in the community. There aren’t that many of us, and we try to collaborate on an interfaith—that means involving different religions—project each year or two.”

“You know Father Donovan?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says. “All the clergy in the area get together a couple of times a year to talk about various concerns in the community. There aren’t that many of us, and we try to collaborate on an interfaith—that means involving different religions—project each year or two.”

“Still got the wheelchair, right?”
I cringe at his words and take a bite of my banana.

And Chanukah celebrates how after the Jews were attacked by the Greeks and won, they only had enough oil to light the menorah in the ancient Temple for one day, but it lasted for eight, until the Jews had time to make more.

“Pareidolia.” She pronounces it par-ay-doh-lia.
“Yeah, that.”
“It’s a psychological phenomenon in which we perceive a vague or random stimulus as being significant.”

“Pareidolia.” She pronounces it par-ay-doh-lia.
“Yeah, that.”
“It’s a psychological phenomenon in which we perceive a vague or random stimulus as being significant.”

“Pareidolia.” She pronounces it par-ay-doh-lia.
“Yeah, that.”
“It’s a psychological phenomenon in which we perceive a vague or random stimulus as being significant.”

“Our brains are wired to see faces in things. We make them up. That’s the topic for my grad thesis. I came here to interview some of the people coming to the drive-in.”

I head over to the diner. Mrs. Whitley is outside directing a big white truck as it backs up to the delivery door. The driver hops out and unloads two big crates. Mrs. Whitley pries one open and inside are bunches and bunches of big, round, deep-purple grapes.

Anton’s arms look super strong, all muscly, not like my puny ones.

He’s dreaming. How could he possibly beat me?
He backs up a couple of feet. “Let me get some momentum going. You start running when I reach you, okay?”

He leans forward so his hand is closer. “I am sorry. I can be a jerk sometimes. Just, people don’t usually call me on it. You definitely won.”
I glare at him a few more seconds and then reach out and grab his hand.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” says Uncle Mordy. He has a big smile on his face.
I scowl at him. “Then why are you smiling?”

But my favorite things are the geodes: big brown rocks that look ugly and boring from the outside but inside have beautiful purple, pink and white crystals.

“No strollers or wheelchairs. There’s, like, two hundred stairs to get to the bottom.”
“What?” says Anton’s mother, waving the Crystal Caverns pamphlet in her hand. “It says right here that the cave is wheelchair accessible.”

Mrs. Whitley walks over, without yoo-hooing like she usually does, and invites us to the diner. We all scurry over, holding our hands over our heads. The raindrops are so big and coming down so hard they hurt.

Dad shakes his head. “This kind of vandalism only takes a few seconds. It was probably some bored kids who don’t know any better. And they could be from anywhere.”

“Give me a break, Daniel. This place is teeming with people who hate us.”

Whoever did this disgusting thing doesn’t know us. They’re just ignorant.

Maria still doesn’t say anything, just heads through the room toward the hallway. Some of the water sloshes out of the bucket onto her feet as she goes.

“You trespassed and destroyed property, and you intentionally tried to mislead a whole lot of people—”

“Be proud of who you are, Miriam, and don’t let any ignoramuses with a paintbrush make you feel otherwise.”

She shades her head. “She couldn’t come today. He’s not with Uncle Mordy and your father just got back from town and...” Her voice quavers. “He was with me earlier at the Reception desk and then the phone rang...I’m going to check over at the diner.”

Blessed are You, Lord Our God, King of the Universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to light the lights of Shabbat.