Unsafe Harbor by Jessica Speart Page A

could learn a thing or two from them. Cockroaches are the perfect survivors, able to live on a drop of water, a sliver of soap, strands of hair, and fingernail clippings.
    The only thing worse than encountering one was actuallyhaving to kill it. No way was I going to smash them on the counter and hear their tiny exoskeletons crunch. And then there was all that goo that would have to be cleaned up. Instead, I chose to do the only rational thing in such a situation. I closed the kitchen door, grabbed a can of Raid, and furiously began to spray the room.
    A sickly sweet scent permeated the air, but I didn’t care. To hell with the fine mist that fell on my dishes, pots, and pans. What were a few toxins and chemicals when it was a matter of self-preservation? The bugs were mini-weapons of mass destruction and this was all-out war.
    It was only when the can of Raid was finally empty that I knew the battle was temporarily over. I quickly cleaned up the mess, grabbed hold of Spam and left, unable to stand the smell any longer.
    I didn’t take a deep breath until we were standing outside, where Spam began to pull me around the block. We went for our ritual walk, during which I acted out my secret fantasy. I morphed into Michelle Kwan while slipping and sliding along the ice.
    I eventually had no choice but to go back inside the building. However, I wisely made tracks for Gerda’s rather than enter my own apartment.
    Nailed to the right-hand side of her doorpost was the mezuzah I’d first seen as a child. I’d always loved its silver-and-blue rectangular case adorned with mysterious Hebrew lettering. Only later did I learn that two handwritten chapters of the Torah were tightly rolled up inside. I’d always wondered how someone managed to do that.
    The mezuzah was nailed to the post at an angle, and I used to try my best to straighten it. Gerda had caught me once and laughed at my mistake.
    “Rachel, not everything in this life can be exactly as you want it. Mezuzahs are supposed to hang that way. Do you know why?”
    I shook my head, not having the slightest idea.
    “Then I’ll tell you, my darling. The rabbis couldn’t agree on whether mezuzahs should be horizontal or vertical, so they decided to compromise. Remember that as you go through life.”
    I touched the mezuzah and kissed my fingers before knocking on her door.
    Gerda answered my tap looking particularly spiffy tonight. She wore a deep blue dress offset by a beautiful diamond brooch. The stones reflected the twinkle in her eyes, and she had carefully applied her makeup so that the rouge on her cheeks matched the color of her lips. They both complemented her freshly dyed hair, which was red as ripe strawberries.
    She took one look at me and started to tsk, tsk, tsk with her tongue.
    “Rachel. What’s the matter? You seem a little frazzled, my dear.”
    I leaned in to give her a kiss, and a flood of memories washed over me. I took a deep whiff and realized it was the scent of Gerda’s skin. The smell was exactly the same as that which I associated with my grandmother. It was a mixture of powder, soap, and perfume. I wasn’t yet ready to release my breath, but rather chose to float on a soothing sea of remembrance. Though it was too comforting to immediately exhale, it was also too bittersweet to stay for very long.
    My childhood hadn’t been all that easy. It had been filled with pain, loss, and regret. Only at my grandmother andGerda’s had I been able to escape into a different world—one filled with laughter and music and happiness.
    I could still smell the tantalizing aroma of Passover meals cooking in their kitchens, and nearly taste the holiday sweets. My grandmother, my mother, and my sister were all gone now, and Gerda was the only family that I had left. It was one of the reasons why I had chosen to come home to New York.
    “It’s those damn cockroaches,” I said, and stepped inside her door. “They’re driving me crazy, Gerda. I don’t know