ArchivedLogs:Historically Accurate
Historically Accurate | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2018-06-08 "Has the good rabbi met your father? Has he met /you/?" |
Location
<NYC> Queens | |
Home to the New York Mets and thus a fierce rivalry among baseball fans, Queens is the largest of New York's boroughs in size, and the most ethnically diverse urban area in the worlds. Many of the different neighborhoods in Queens reflect that diversity, and the various cuisines found throughout often are in keeping with the traditional backgrounds of the residents there. Some parts of Jamaica Estates could easily be mistaken for an affluent suburb, but this is not one of them. Here on the southern side of the neighborhood, the much poorer Jamaica lies just across Hillside Avenue. The transition is not abrupt, but it is noticeable enough that particularly skittish visitors may comment they had strayed into the "wrong side of town." Alongside the Avenue runs a series of utility poles connected by a fine wire, but no accompanying transformers or other electrical apparatuses. This is probably for the best, since there is currently a smallish boy perched atop one of these poles, fiddling with the wire. Spencer has work gloves, tools, and a perfunctory safety belt, but there's no ladder or elevating platform nearby. He wears a sky blue t-shirt with the words "Shalom, Y'all!" printed on the front beneath a cartoonish arc of rainbow, grey cargo pants, and black canvas sneakers. Passers-by occasionally glance up at him, but only a few seem particularly alarmed by the sight. He finishes the operation at hand and tests the wire for tension. Apparently satisfied with his handiwork, he vanishes from his perch -- -- and appears on the sidewalk below as though he had been standing there the whole time. "/Anyway/, so Rabbi Jacob had been in Israel when I started doing this, right?" He tugs off his gloves and waves them in the direction of the eruv he had just finished repairing. "And I guess no one told him? Then it came up over coffee before Tikkun Leil Shavuot and he was /so shocked/ like 'But he is too young! It is too dangerous! How could /his guardian/ allow him to do this?'" Spencer flails his arms in the air. Lucien has been at the bottom of the pole, leaning against it with one shoulder. His phone is in one hand, though he isn't looking at it; just tracing a finger up and down along the ridges of the star pattern inlaid mosaic-style in its wood. His eyes have been tipped upward, but lower back to Spence with only a small blink of adjustment. "Has the good rabbi met your father?" is swiftly followed by a slight lift of one brow, an addendum: "Has he met /you/?" Spencer nods. Then shrugs. "I mean sure, but not like /really/ until he got ordained, and then he was away for a while so he doesn't really /know/ us." He points along the line of the eruv. "That section isn't broken but it's slack and should get tightened while I'm here. Anyway, /I'm/ just a kid, and he probably already decided what kind of a 'guardian' Pa was long ago." His shoulders slump a little as he heads down the street the way he pointed. "So we had a Very Serious Conversation about safety. And about my mitzvah project, cuz protecting people from ICE isn't 'community-focused' enough?" "Is it the gay he finds issue with, or the terrorism? I suppose it might well be both." The press of Lucien's lips is small. His eyes flit up towards the wire, then back down. "If it is his actual parenting, the man can clearly be disregarded as possessing not enough common sense to advise anyone of much." He tucks his phone back into his pocket as he follows alongside Spence. "I imagine if you define 'community' narrowly enough you might well exclude /most/ humanitarian efforts from it." "I'm sure it's both," Spence agrees ruefully. "Well. Being goyish doesn't help. But I think...if people in the community /actually/ thought Pa was a bad parent, they would've tried harder to get me taken away from him, right?" He does not sound at all certain about this. "I guess me talking back at the rabbi and trying to do a maybe-kinda-illegal project /probably/ isn't the best thing for Pa's reputation around here. {Anyway, sorry, if I get started on my project troubles I'll talk about it all day. All /summer./} I'll be disqualified from my own bar mitzvah and it'll be a huge scandal -- I mean not really because actually --" He suddenly breaks off, looks up at Lucien, eyes wide. "Are you gonna come? To my bar mitzvah? It's going to be /so boring/ by the time I come up with a speech Rabbi Jacob approves of. Besides you're so busy and what if you're in a show you're auditioning for /every single show/ right?"
"Yeah, it /totally/ is!" Spence actually skips a step here. "Though /probably/ they're gonna be blaming Pa for stuff I do pretty much the rest of my life anyway. Which sucks but also like maybe it's sort of their way of accepting that he /is/ my father? Maybe." He nods firmly. "But yeah it's gonna be on September 15th -- that's Shabbat Shuvah this year, so, you know. /Lots/ of repenting and finger-wagging. I can /definitely/ work with that." He's eyeing the slack eruv wire speculatively as they near the utility pole. Glances at at Lucien again. "I bet you'll have a role by then. Anyway I didn't mean to sound like I was /assuming/ you'd come, but I guess I kind of was, and I'm really glad you plan to." His hands fidget restlessly and he shoves them both into his pockets. "Like, I know your schedule is always full, is all. And I appreciate it. This, too. Even if it's /kinda/ like..." He blushes. "...glorified babysitting?" "Surely they will be well-pleased, then, if you direct your finger-wagging at the congregation for the ways it fails society's disenfranchised. It will show you have studied hard." Lucien's hand tightens its clasp on his opposite wrist. "Here I thought I was along for the conversation. It looks a lonely sort of job. Goodness knows you're far more adept at keeping yourself safe up there than any help I might offer from here." He follows Spencer's glance up toward the wire. "And I do appreciate your faith. Can you keep a secret?" "/Right?/ Like half of my Torah portion is pretty much just Moses yelling at us for screwing up. They should /totally/ appreciate the tochecha." Spencer's smile is crooked but not insincere. "Well, it's a good thing we have awesome conversations, then!" He sobers quickly at the question, eyes gone wide and serious, his voice low and quiet when he speaks again. "Totally. Cross my heart and hope to fly." "Hope?" Lucien's voice carries a light thread of amusement. "{By my estimation you've been nearly there all morning.}" Still, he leans forward, words pitched conspiratorially lower. "There is a show in the works and I have my heart rather set on seeing it to fruition. There is a ways yet before it gets there, but a supremely talented playwright has transformed Captain America's story into a proper musical and I am rather keen that one day he see it." Though it hardly seems probable, Spencer's eyes grow even bigger. "Whaaaat? {That's /amazing!/}" He bounces up onto the balls of his feet several times, but his voice drops down to a whisper. "Shane found one from the 1950s but it's /so bad/. Does Steve know? Oh, oh, you should /totally/ play him, he would /love/ that. Though..." He bites his lower lip. "...Is it like, /historically accurate/?" "The old one is /delightfully/ trash. A true atrocity." The laughter in Lucien's voice has spread to his eyes, bright and crinkling at the corners. "This one, unfortunately, has the makings of a masterpiece about it. With some slight work it will be --" He pauses, hand seesawing slightly from side to side. "I would not say /entirely/ historically accurate. It takes some artistic license. But in broad strokes faithful, yes. I have --" Only a fractional beat of hesitation, "faith that they will treat the subject with appropriate respect and sensitivity." Straightening, hands clasping behind his back once more, "-- But as yet vanishingly few people even know the project is underway. For the moment it would be good to keep it that way." Spence laughs much more freely, but hides it behind a hand, eyes darting left and right as if searching for potential eavesdroppers. "Wow that's /so cool./ You having 'faith'," he put finger quotes around this, "is /pretty/ serious stuff." He gathers himself up again and nods solemnly, drawing his index finger and thumb across his lip to mime zipping them shut. "I won't tell /anyone/, promise. I hope it comes together fast though I /can't wait!/" "Tres bien." Lucien's eyes lift back up toward the wire overhead. "I am sure you will find plenty to keep you occupied in the meantime. Come. We have a ways to go yet, non?" |