Clattering Sparrows - Softcover

Land, Marilyn

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1450236359 ISBN 13: 9781450236355

Verlag: iUniverse, 2010

Inhaltsangabe

The friendship between five-year-olds Sara Miller and Judy Levine begins in the summer of 1941, when their families move into adjoining row houses in Washington, D.C. Almost immediately, the United States enters World War II, and their childhood is thrust into a world dominated by the consequences of history. When asked to help their sick friend, Su Ling, keep up with her studies as she recuperates from rheumatic fever, her grandmother, An Lei, teaches them the ancient Chinese game of Mahjong, destined to become an invariable part of their lives as it merges cultures, love, and friendship. Separated for the first time when they enter college, their personal choices, shaped and impacted by half a century of unparalleled wars, loss, and heartbreak, only bring them closer together, as they marry, raise their families, and pursue their chosen careers. Their lifelong journey, caught in a web of intricate and surprising twists of fate, surfaces in the public eye when a Ukrainian farm girl inadvertently unlocks a thirty-five-year mystery that has haunted them since their graduation from high school. From coast to coast and across the globe, their heartwarming and compelling story confirms the powerful bond of friendship.

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Clattering Sparrows

By Marilyn Land

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Marilyn Land
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-3635-5

Chapter One

I hung up the phone; walked slowly to the front closet; opened the door; and removed the familiar red-leather case with its brass handles and ornate brass hinges from the top shelf. Placing it on the table, I lifted the lid and gazed intently at the Mahjong Set before me. My mind traveled back in time to more than fifty years earlier, when I first laid eyes on the skillfully carved tiles that neatly and precisely filled every inch of the small case. The set had been made in China sometime during the Qing Dynasty. For the remainder of the afternoon, with the set resting on the table in front of me, my thoughts returned to the innocence of childhood, when life was neither complicated nor demanding, and each new day held the promise of tomorrow. Hours later when Jon came home, he found me sitting at the table in the unlit room. He took one look at me and he knew-my best friend, Judy Levine Singer, had died.

* * *

The early flight from Boston's Logan Airport to Washington, D.C., was right on schedule. The flight attendant's request to fasten seatbelts and return seats to their upright positions had just come across the loud speaker. "We will be landing at Reagan National Airport in approximately ten minutes. Washington weather is sunny, and temperatures are expected to rise into the mid-fifties. Thank you for flying with us today, and we hope to see you again soon. Have a great day."

We had not spoken on the short trip. Lost in my thoughts, I sat eyes closed the entire time, and not wanting to disturb me, Jon had quietly read the paper and flipped through the airline books. As the plane touched down and taxied toward the gate, he glanced over at me and seeing that I had at last opened my eyes, asked, "How are you doing?"

Nodding, I replied, "I'm doing okay."

It was just past 7:00 a.m. We retrieved our luggage, picked up the rental car, and in less than an hour, we were driving up Pooks Hill Road to the Marriott. The funeral service scheduled for noon at Danzansky-Goldberg Memorial Chapel on Rockville Pike was a short ride from the hotel, and Jon was relieved that the early morning flight had not encountered any delays.

We were shown to our room, and as I unpacked the one bag we had brought, I asked, "Do we have time to catch a quick cup of coffee before heading out to the service?"

Jon answered, "Yes, I'm sure we do. The Caf didn't look too busy when we came in. I think we should have a bite to eat, as well. I don't anticipate that we will be back to the Singer house until mid-afternoon at best."

Although the Caf was quite full, we were shown to a small table without waiting. We each had coffee and an English muffin, paid the check, and walked to the car.

As Jon drove up Rockville Pike to the funeral home, a few short miles north of the hotel, I was once again lost in thought. The sky void of clouds, and the bright sun and warming temperatures seemed out of context for a funeral. The movies came to mind where more often than not funerals are depicted on cold rainy days, in an effort to reflect the somber mood of the black-clad mourners seeking shelter from the rain under their oversized black umbrellas. The beautiful spring day appeared instead to acknowledge life.

When we arrived at the chapel, there were just a few cars on the lot. We were early. After signing the guest register, we walked down the side hall to the room where the family gathered, and where sadly, we had been so many times before. As we entered, Judy's husband Ira came over to us immediately and embraced us. "What are we going to do without her? She was the strong one you know, and I can't believe she's gone."

I was too choked up to reply. We spoke briefly with the family, and as more and more people came into the room, we left to take our seats for the service.

As the chapel continued to fill beyond capacity, an overflow of mourners lined the side aisles and stood three deep in the back of the large room. My eyes, hidden behind the dark glasses I wore, glanced about the crowd, and saw not only those I anticipated, but many that I had not seen for almost fifty years. Suddenly, sadness overwhelmed me, and for a brief moment I felt faint.

Earlier in the week when I received the call telling me that my longest and dearest friend Judy Singer had lost her battle with cancer, my mind simply refused to accept the fact that she had died. Jon and I had moved from Maryland to Cape Cod, Massachusetts, a few short years before, and somehow the 500 mile distance between us and our frequent visits allowed me to will her alive in my mind. After all, she lived far enough away, and we no longer saw each other on a daily basis, therefore it would be easy to imagine that nothing had changed. But now as I sat fixedly staring at the raised Star of David on top of the casket, I knew. Reality was finally setting in that never again would I hear Judy's musical voice, see Judy's smiling face, or feel Judy's strength and warmth in her generous hugs. I had lost my best friend and the pain was agonizing.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd. The Rabbi entered the chapel and walked to the pulpit, followed by the family as they filed into the first two rows of seats. The Rabbi began chanting in Hebrew, spoke solemnly of Judy's illness, and that she had been taken far too soon from her family and friends. Her children and brothers eulogized her interesting life, and what a loving and incredible wife, mother, grandmother, and sister she had been. As I observed Ira, I worried for him. He and Judy had been extremely close, and I couldn't envision one without the other. Jon and I would insist that he spend some time with us very soon.

I rose and walked to the pulpit. I carried notes in my hand, but as everyone would soon notice, I would not refer to them once. I simply didn't need anything to remind me of one moment of our lifelong friendship. Staring above the heads of those seated, and into the eyes of those standing at the back of the room, my heartfelt words poured forth as I attempted to fully portray the essence of Judith (Judy) Levine Singer. As I traced the journey of our friendship from the age of five, the congregation cried and laughed and cried again.

"A few minutes to cover a lifetime are hardly adequate, especially when that lifetime was Judy's. Our bond of friendship was stronger than that of blood sisters as it endured endless ups and downs, and there is no one I would have rather taken the journey with than Judy. We were very much alike yet very different. Judy was the eternal optimist who saw only the good in everybody and everything. She dedicated her life to making the world a better place, especially for children, as evidenced by the many students she taught and gently led into adulthood. Her conviction was not what we take from life, but what we give back. I will forever admire her wit, her generosity, her loyalty, and the joy she brought into my life, as well as so many others.

"At this point, I would be remiss if I excluded the one link that played an immense part in shaping our credulous journey-the game of Mah Jongg-that we innocently learned to play as children, never dreaming how it would affect us. Throughout our lives our weekly games became our salvation. No problem was too big to solve, and no blessing was too small to celebrate, as our hands clattered the tiles across a forty-two inch square table, and set up the walls for the next game and...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: iUniverse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2010
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1450236359
• ISBN 13: 9781450236355
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 252
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: preigu GmbH & Co. KG; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; Niedersachsen; 49078; Deutschland