Adam Levin - The Instructions

“But then Aleph comes along — that tall, muscular boy I told you about yesterday, the one who looked away when the Co-Captain knocked my hat off — he’s also on the bus — and the nonsense with the legs stops being playful. Nakamook tells him, ‘Sing me a song,’ and Aleph, he doesn’t want to sing, so he offers Nakamook a dollar.

“‘What is this?’ says Nakamook.

“‘A toll,’ Aleph tells him.

“‘A toll ?’ says Nakamook.

“‘For so I can pass by you — I’m offering to pay you a toll,’ explains Aleph.

“And Nakamook, here, gets all verklempt. He gives Aleph this speech, this carried-away, if not crazy, speech, and then he says to me—”

Wait, I said. What speech? I said. You’re getting ahead of yourself.

“You want the speech?” said Eliyahu.

Do you remember the speech?

“Who could forget such a speech!” said Eliyahu.

So nu? I said. I’m stuck here all day. Give me something to think about.

“Okay, so okay, so Aleph proffers the dollar, Benji says what is it, Aleph tells him it’s a toll for so he can pass, and then, and then…” Eliyahu cleared his throat, made his eyes squinty, and held his hands before him in half-open fists, fingernails up, and made the fists rotate in little circles. “‘ Toll ?’ Benji says. ‘ Toll ?’ he says.” Having gotten into character, Eliyahu stilled his wrists. “‘ Toll is not what you mean. Toll sounds like a lie. Toll you pay a builder to cross a bridge he built. Toll you owe the builder because he built the bridge. When you say toll, kid, it sounds like something else. When you say toll , it sounds like the price of safe passage, and the price of safe passage like a fee being extorted from you, an unjust price; a price you pay to prevent the advances of unjust forces against your physical integrity. But to pay a price like that, to pay a price in advance, to the unjust , a price to prevent advances against your physical integrity —that is to compromise your dignity.’”

Eliyahu stopped squinting. “Just to be clear,” he said, “you know I’m doing Nakamook — this isn’t me saying this.”

Right, I said. It’s good. It’s a good impression.

“Really? Thank you. Okay, so, okay, so where…”

‘To pay a price in advance to—’

“Right. Exactly.” He fell back into character, and this time spoke louder: “‘To pay a price in advance, to the unjust , a price to prevent advances against your physical integrity —that is to compromise your dignity. And dignity compromised is no longer dignity. Whoever says otherwise is selling you a bridge, kid. And I am no extortionist. I’m only a person with his legs across an aisle. Why not just ask me, Benji please move your legs ? Years we go to school together, never speaking… Years go by, you never introduce yourself to me, you never nod hello to me in the hallway or even so much as drink a Coke at my lunch table — and all this time I give you the benefit of the doubt. I tell myself, He’s shy. He is not avoiding you. He is not snubbing you. But now, when you would have me do something for you, some nothing so small as moving my legs, a gesture I never said I wouldn’t perform… It is only after I’ve requested, in a spirit of good will, that you sing me a song… Only now do you reveal that you were avoiding me. All a long avoiding me. Snubbing me. I request of you a little entertainment, and you respond as you would to a petty extortionist. A common bully. I request and you hear a demand . Behind the demand you hear a threat . Such is the nature of demands. I ask you for a song and you offer up your dignity instead. You treat me like a common bully.’

“So, and this is the part where he stops the speech for a second,” Eliyahu said. “He stops the speech and cracks a handful of knuckles against the side of his own neck. He’s not facing me, Gurion, so he can’t see me, but he says to me, ‘Fear is contempt, whether the fearful know it or don’t. Look on me with fear, Eliyahu, and it will be the last open glance you cast.’”

What did you do? I said.

“ Do ?” said Eliyahu. “I looked out the window, telling myself Aleph did nothing for me earlier that day. That when the Co-Captain knocked my hat off, Aleph only watched. That the obligation I felt to step in between Nakamook and Aleph and prevent any further humiliation from happening was misguided. In truth, I even began to long for Aleph’s further humiliation. As if that were justice. It was awful. At the time, though, it maybe didn’t seem so awful… Anyway. Aleph, he says to Benji, ‘I didn’t mean to treat you like a bully.’ And Nakamook, he says, ‘You didn’t mean to treat me like a bully? Meaning you couldn’t help it? You couldn’t help but treat me like a bully? Is that supposed to lessen the insult?… I asked for entertainment, and you could have refused and held your head up. I never asked for your dignity. That is what bullies do. I am not a bully. A bully has no dignity. You treat me like I have no dignity. How can I possibly lower my legs for you now? How the eff do you expect me to lower my legs and hold onto my dignity? Why have you done this to us? Answer me.’

“So Aleph apologizes. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing,’ he says. And when that apology fails to soften Nakamook, Aleph tries a second one: ‘I didn’t mean to do what I was doing.’ Nothing. He tries a third: ‘I thought I was doing something else.’

“‘Put your dollar away,’ Nakamook tells him, ‘and pray you never again mistake dignity for a toll, nor safety for peace, let alone justice.’ High-minded stuff, right? Or crazy stuff. Carried-away stuff, maybe. Who can really tell? Not Aleph — not him. Aleph, he’s frozen. What’s Nakamook saying? He forgive him or what? It isn’t so clear. Benji’s made it sound like he’s forgiven Aleph, but his legs, Gurion, are still stretched across the aisle, and Aleph doesn’t understand, and neither do I. The silence: it grows. It grows and grows more, Aleph just standing there, and Nakamook’s legs.

“Finally, Nakamook, he says to Aleph: ‘I told you to put your dollar in your pocket. Put your filthy effing dollar in your filthy effing pocket with your filthy trembling effing hand.’ Aleph swallows hard. Does it. Puts the dollar in his pocket. Benji’s legs haven’t moved. They’re still across the aisle. He says, ‘Now get past me. Do so with the understanding that I will be unable to bear any further insult. Understand that I will be unable to bear the insult of contact. Get past without touching me, or to preserve my own dignity, I will show you your blood, and I will be just.’

Here, Eliyahu took a fast breath, then blew out slow.

“Am I to trust a boy who would get this carried away, Gurion?”

I said, But what happened?

“It was shameful what happened!” Eliyahu said. “Aleph, first he removes his scarf and folds it and tucks it inside of his coat. Then he reaches over Nakamook’s legs and drops his backpack onto the floor of the bus. And then he makes the decision — and, look, it’s the only decision he can possibly make, for Nakamook’s legs are bent at the knees and so too high to jump, and Aleph, he’s too tall to get under them in a crouch — he makes the decision to crawl under Nakamook’s legs. He crawls along the floor on his belly. Am I to trust a boy who would act so crazy as to make another crawl on his belly? Gurion?”

That wasn’t the only decision he could have made, I said. I said, He could have fought.

“He would have lost,” Eliyahu said.