The Past Is a Grotesque Animal

[Joshua Bernstein]

1990

---

69. Avocado

Josh fingered the stem of his glass lightly, rubbing up and down the cactus that held up his margarita. Salt still rimmed the edge of the glass in places, though he had worn most of it off over the course of the night and several refills.

The pitcher in the middle of the table was almost empty, as was the basket of chips that had been filled and refilled throughout the night.

The attorney dipped his one remaining, broken chip into the remains of the guacamole, too inebriated to care that green stuck to his hands and fingers, instead licking it off with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Mmm, guacamole."

The blonde on the other side of the table leaned forward, sticking his elbows in salsa that had been dripped carelessly across the table during the night.

"Guacamole is delicious." He agreed, his face flushed from the tequila (and whatever else the bartender had dumped into their margarita; it was a rare thing indeed for a restaurant not to dump in the remains of whatever other alcohols they needed to get rid of.)

Neither man cared particularly much, so long as nobody got sick from it; one of the perks of living in the City was that they didn't have to drive home, so a higher alcohol content than expected wouldn't damage anything but their liver too badly.

If they had cared then perhaps they wouldn't have spent so many of their dates out at Mexican restaurants, ordering pitchers of margaritas and eating enough guacamole to feed a family.

"Avocado should be in more foods." Simon decided as the chip disappeared into his mouth. No more chips, and the restaurant was crowded now. Too crowded to flag down their waiter for more. He eyed the guacamole, then shrugged and snatched up his spoon.

---

"You smell like Mexican food," Simon breathed as they lay tangled on the sofa.

"Prob'ly cause that's what we ate," Josh mumbled back, "Is that a problem?"

"No," The blonde shook his head in denial. "I like the smell of avocado."

---

Josh had never paid attention to the scents of his soap before, but the next time he was at the store he spotted a box of soap that claimed to be avocado scented.

He picked it up and dropped it into his basket. He could smell like avocado all the time, now.

Simon would like that.

this entry was originally for the 2012 150 prompts challenge[

[Joshua Bernstein]

Christmas 1996

---

101. Bagel

Christmas in the City always meant crowds of tourists roaming the streets. Some were in packs, others solitary, but they all made his normal commute difficult, what with swarming the sidewalks and the subway, and even spilling out into the street with little regard for traffic.

He typically didn't take off for Christmas, because he didn't celebrate and he saw no reason to cease work just because some of the City wanted to be festive. There were still trials to attend, people whose rights shouldn't have to wait simply because it was a holiday.

This year he had taken off for Christmas.

He had taken off for Christmas because Saul had taken off for Christmas, and he wanted to spend time with the other man. If he were completely honest he would rather spend time with Sean, but his best friend had other plans, and he certainly couldn't begrudge the telepath when he had someone else to spend time with.

And anyway, he thought this relationship with Saul could work. Just because Simon didn't think he was affectionate enough didn't mean that everyone felt that way; so far Saul hadn't seemed to mind too much, and perhaps once he met Sean he would understand.

For the moment, however, Sean wasn't there. It was just him and Saul and the rest of the City lit up in red and green lights. As they shoved their way through the crowd, fingers twined together, Saul tilted his head toward the other attorney slightly.

"I'm suddenly hungry."

Josh wasn't particularly hungry, but finding a place to eat would give them something to do. Perhaps they could find a booth at some diner, something out of the way so they could nudge one another's feet and talk over coffee and pie. That sounded pleasant enough and so Josh smiled. "Then let's get something to eat. Did you have anything in mind?"

"I was thinking perhaps a bagel."

Josh liked bagels; he had practically grown up on them, and as an adult they were simple and easy, no cooking required. As such he said, "Then let's find a bagel shop."

The first bagel shop they found was too crowded for the two men to even make it through the door. The second one was just closing as they made their way up the steps.

They were beginning to get discouraged when they finally found a shop that was both open and had few enough customers for them to go in.

They stepped into line, scanning the large menu behind the counter while they waited. Shortly they found themselves stepping up to the front of the line, gloved hands still clasped.

Four bagels and two cups of coffee later and they sat ensconced in a tiny table by the window, watching people hurry past. Josh smiled across the table at Saul. "This was a good idea." He remarked, dipping his knife into the tub of butter between them. "I'm glad you thought of this."

Saul bit into his bagel, returning the smile. "I didn't think of anything." He denied with a shake of his head. "I just really like bagels."

this entry was originally for the 2012 150 prompt challenge

[Joshua Bernstein]

April 2012

---

30. Lucid

When Josh saw the note stuck to the door, scrawled in barely legible cursive, he was concerned.

Just popped out to the salon. Be back soon. There's rugelach in the fridge, help yourself.

The rugelach he would abscond with; not all of it, but enough to share with Sean when he returned home. But the realization that his mother was out on the road, macular degeneration and all, was a terrifying thought. He really should take her keys from her and hire a driver, but he couldn't bring himself to take away what independence she had left.

If he were honest, he couldn't bring himself to confront her about it. He would deny it with his dying breath, but he was well and truly under his mother's thumb.

He sighed and peeled the note away from the door, pocketing it as he pushed his way inside, peering cautiously around the corner to see if his father was out of bed yet. To his surprise, the older Bernstein was settled in the armchair in the corner of the living room, covered from lap to shoulders in a pile of blankets.

He offered his father a nod as he gently shut the door behind him.

"Good afternoon."

He didn't expect his father to remember him; it was so rare these days. He certainly didn't expect his father to respond with a whispered, "Hello, Joshua."

Lucid bouts were so few and far between these days, and each and every one caused his heart to soar. It was an all too brief gift, being able to talk to his father instead of the disease.

"I see mom is out." Although his father appeared lucid, he made sure not to turn his back on the older man as he made his way into the living room and lowered himself onto the sofa. "I haven't visited in awhile so I thought I would see how the two of you are doing."

Bobby smiled and nodded, his head slowly bobbing up and down. "Good, good." Blue eyes twinkled with that tell-tale brightness that said he was resident in his own mind again. "It's always nice to see you. I see you left Sean at home today."

Josh's forehead creased into a perplexed frown; had his mother told him about Sean? She hadn't even told him that his father had a lucid bout since he'd come out to her.

"Ah, no, I'm sorry. That was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

The frustration on his father's face was apparent, and Josh felt guilty. Apparently his mother hadn't said anything at all, and Bobby was merely confusing the present and the past. "We're still friends. He had to stay late for work so it's just me."

"Oh, you made up with him, have you?" Bobby smiled in pleasure at this news. "I always thought I would be proud to have him as a son-in-law."

Josh wasn't sure what to say to that. He frequently wasn't sure what to say to his father; he wished sometimes that he had Sean's medical training and thus knew how to deal with Alzheimer's. He scooted down the sofa until he could lean over and pat his father's hand gently.

"I'll bring him with me next time."

this was originally for the 2012 150 prompt challenge

[Joshua Bernstein]

February 2012

---

49. Scramble

Under Riley's instructions Josh had slowly become competent in the kitchen. Or rather, he had become competent at baking, which he had decided was more or less the same thing. In his burgeoning confidence he had determined that he should make breakfast for Sean.

He had slipped out of bed while the telepath was still asleep, grateful that his partner didn't stir; Sean wasn't as deep a sleeper as he was. More than that, he was grateful that he had managed to wake up first. Usually Sean was awake far before he was, but anxiety over his plans had caused him to wake every couple of hours until the morning.

He pulled on a pair of khakis then grabbed a robe (Sean had worn off on him in that regards since he had moved in) and slipped down the stairs, careful not to make any noise.

The recipe he had seemed easy enough. At least, it had very few ingredients, and he had all of them because they were staples and Sean was good about keeping basics in the house.

He busied himself placing all the proper ingredients on the counter before pulling out the utensils he would need. He wasn't quite sure about the size of the pan, so he took out the largest skillet he could find.

He turned on the stove, then grabbed the bowl, peering at the directions he had written down.

In went the milk and the salt and pepper; the pepper shook too well, and he decided to balance it out by adding more salt. Then he cracked the eggs over the edge of the bowl, panicking as flecks of shell fell into the mixture.

He found a spoon and fished them out, then tossed it into the dishwasher, returning to his recipe.

Beat the eggs, it said.

He was glad he had taken lessons from Riley; baking sometimes required beating eggs. If he hadn't done this with his friend's help, however, he knew he would be utterly confused by the terminology.

When he thought that was well and blended he heated the butter over the skillet, staring hard until it looked more or less melted. He immediately poured in the egg mixture, then, stirring obsessively, waiting for the eggs to turn into fluffy yellow clouds of egg.

Instead they turned dark, with black flecks from the mound of pepper he'd dumped in. And they looked rubbery.

"Josh?"

At the sound of the sleepy voice Josh turned around guiltily. "Oh, Sean...." He stammered, wishing he could hide his project not because he was worried about the surprise now, but because it hadn't turned out like he'd hoped. "I...ahh..."

The telepath peered over his shoulders. "Scrambled eggs?" He questioned, quirking an eyebrow. As the attorney nodded in embarrassment his partner smiled.

"I'll go start the coffee."

this was originally for the 2012 150 prompt challenge

[Joshua Bernstein]

68. Expanse

Joshua sighed heavily, resting his head against the arm of the sofa. He hadn't expected this to be easy, but he also hadn't expected to be quite so miserable.

He had thought that he would feel better after making a firm decision.

After all the suffocating and the uncertainty and the desperate longing coupled with the need to escape and be alone, a need he had never felt before, and he was sure that he could only feel better once the source had been dealt with.

Only he had seen the look on Sean's face as he'd told him, and it had taken all of his control not to cry with misery and guilt. He didn't want to hurt Sean, not more than was necessary to end things. It would probably be better in the long run. Sean would find someone who deserved him, someone who didn't feel confusing pressure.

Someone who could meet his needs without feeling conflicted and scared.

He didn't feel suffocated anymore. In fact, he felt too free. He wasn't sure what to do with himself without Sean; they had done everything together. Meals, studying, parties, free time. Time between classes and drinking and movies.

And because most of his friends had been Sean's friends first he didn't even have anyone to turn to, at least not anyone who was also a student at NYU. He would have to make friends. Usually he was fine with the idea of more friends, but somehow the thought of expanding his social circle was intimidating.

A lot of things were expanding now, freeing him from the constant pressure of his relationship with Sean, from the discomfort of knowing that his boyfriend knew what he was thinking even when his thoughts were conflicted and he hadn't processed them on his own and he couldn't process them on his own, because Sean would say something, trying to be nice and helpful and it was just frustrating and embarrassing and he couldn't say any of that.

He didn't have to worry about that anymore, and that was also intimidating.

He didn't know what was wrong with him.

this was originally written for the 2012 150 prompt challenge

[Joshua Bernstein]

2010

---

84. Reality

Joshua Bernstein had always claimed a close relationship with his family. His parents had been affectionate and warm with one another and their children, and he had adored his older brother. And when a baby sister had come along he had been thrilled by the prospect of another person to play with.

Now that both his siblings were married with children and Josh had moved up to Vermont the three siblings saw less of one another. However, the presence of their parents meant that the occasional visits were in order. After all, the newest generation of Bernsteins had to visit their grandparents sometimes; if they hadn't, Mama B (as she was affectionately known) would have had words for her children.

Josh had initially bought his house expecting his family to visit, but even still it felt crowded with Matt and his wife and their two teenage sons. Noah spent all his time on his iPod, playing games or texting his girlfriend, but Jeremiah tore through the house, jumping on everyone and trying to get his brother's attention.

Noah gamely tried to ignore his younger sibling's pestering, though there were bouts of shoving and terse, angry expressions of his desire to be left alone.

Michelle Bernstein tried to coax her younger son into behaving more calmly, promising that they would go to the lake later in the day, but to no avail. Jeremiah was adamant that he wanted to play now, and he wanted to play with Noah.

Josh shook his head in bemusement at their antics. "So much energy. I don't remember having nearly that much energy when I was thirteen."

Matt choked on his coffee, shooting his younger brother a look over the mug.

Josh recognized that look. It was one that Matt had inherited from their father, one that meant he had just said or done something very, very stupid. Although the attorney took after his father more in appearance, his older brother had more of their father's personality.

This included the ability to be expressive without words.

Josh could feel guilt creeping into his chest with that look, although he didn't know what he had done to deserve it.

"I never jumped all over you like --- " He began.

Matt's look became even more judgmental, if that were possible. Fortunately, before Josh was forced to defend his teenage self further Michelle intervened.

"Who wants to go get ice cream on the way to the park?"

That got the attention of all four men in the house, even Noah. But as they left the house Josh could overhear Matt whispering to his wife.

"Sometimes Josh has his own version of reality."

this was originally written for the 2013 100 prompt challenge

[Joshua Bernstein]

2012

---

66. Summer

Josh zipped up his suitcase, pressing down upon the top in an unconscious movement to keep clothes from spilling out onto the floor. One last sweep about the room they had rented and they would be off to the airport, whisked back to Pilot Ridge and to reality.

Across the room Sean was engaged in a similar ritual, repacking and making mental inventory of everything that needed to return with them. What was and wasn’t allowed to be carried on, what might need to be shipped back home to await their arrival.

Some packages had already been shipped, souvenirs from previous countries visited as they made their way across Europe. They had admired historical buildings, taken in breathtaking architecture in the cities and pastoral tranquility in the countrysides.

And they had taken in local beer offerings everywhere.

They had seen ancient legal texts and involved themselves in debates about different healthcare systems.

And most important of all, they had given tribute to family heritage.

Germany was a vastly different country than it had been when his father had been sent to America; a vastly better place for most, even if it wasn’t perfect and was facing the same economic woes plaguing so much of the world.

While Josh was glad that it was different, a part of him mourned that he only knew this through other channels. He had very little basis for comparison in his own history, as his father had been quite reticent on the subject. He had never wanted to push, and now it was too late.

He knew that he’d had an aunt named Philippa, and a cousin Anna. He knew that his grandfather had been a lawyer and that his grandmother had auburn hair like his sister and that his great-grandmother had loved to bake and play the piano.

He knew that his father had never heard from any of them again after coming to America.

But most of this he knew from old photographs with names scrawled beside them, with the occasional (brief) note that he’d had to request translations of. Very little came directly from his father himself.

In some sense he felt that this was both pilgrimage as well as penance, a way to assuage his guilt over never asking along with a trip to pay homage to relatives who had almost certainly been cruelly murdered.

He had rather insisted on visiting some of Germany’s grimmer sites, taking in the realities his family had faced with more solemnity than was usual for him.


“Are you about ready?”

His partner’s voice cut through the mental drift, and Josh glanced up from his suitcase. “Oh, yes. Let’s just check and make sure we’re not leaving anything behind, then we can go meet Greg. You don’t think he’ll have finished breakfast without us?”

They wouldn’t leave behind any of their belongings, but he felt that he was leaving behind some piece of himself that he hadn’t known existed until now.

But even in his mourning he couldn’t regret how they had spent that summer.

this was originally written for the 2013 100 prompts challenge

[Joshua Bernstein]

1992

---

47. Voodoo

Presenting a case in court was perhaps one of the most stressful and unpredictable parts of being a lawyer. Clients could be obstreperous on their own, but when one added in witnesses and court staff and opposing counsel, not to mention the occasional journalist team or curious public or distressed relatives, then chaos was only to be expected. Even the strictest judge couldn’t prevent people from misbehaving; he could only deal with the aftermath in a way that discouraged further misbehavior.

Josh, fortunately, rather thrived on the chaos of the courtroom. Insecurities about his personal life melted away as he confidently expounded on elements of the law and of the details of his case, thrilled to use knowledge that seldom saw use outside of his professional life. He researched extensively before his trials, but even in the off times he enjoyed refreshing himself on the finer parts of the law and in ensuring that he stayed current and could argue his points sensibly and with a deftness he rarely replicated outside of court.

It was nice, having specific examples to use and precedent to point to, when debating.

But although he was well prepared for much of the difficulties encountered at the courthouse, there were still surprises.

For instance, the middle aged woman sprinkling what he thought was sand all round the perimeter of the courtroom.

He plopped his papers onto the table before him, looking at her quizzically. There were a few other people already there, setting up for the trial. The stenographer was pointedly refusing to look at the woman, and most everyone else didn’t seem to really notice her at all.

As the sheriff walked by Josh flagged him down, too overcome with curiosity to look over his notes before the trial began.

“That woman. What is she doing?” He whispered, gesturing towards the still muttering and circling figure.

The sheriff shook his head in bemusement. “She’s doing voodoo.”

Josh was taken aback. “Voodoo?”

The sheriff nodded. “She does this whenever her husband is on trial. He always gets off, so it must work.”

The woman finished, and calmly went to sit at the back of the room.

And the sheriff must have been right; Josh was so flustered that he performed quite poorly, and to his utter humiliation he lost a case for the first time since graduation. The woman’s husband was found not guilty.

As he made his way to the subway after the trial he spotted a Kabbalah shop with some Hamsa amulets in the display window.

Better to wear a charm under his suit than to lose cases, he decided, and in he went, feeling slightly silly.

But the next case he presented he made sure the amulet was in his pocket.

originally written for the 2013 100 prompts challenge

[Joshua Bernstein]

1992

---

This used to be our playground (used to be)
This used to be our childhood dream


Josh halted outside the building he had once lived in, glancing upward as if he could see through the walls. The home he had shared with Sean was long gone, of course, replaced by whatever tenant had moved in after them. He wondered if they were the ones playing the Madonna song so loudly.


This used to be the place we ran to
The best things in life are always free
Wishing you were here with me


There were so many memories here, on this street corner. Late nights talking and laughing, making love and studying. Sean was going to open up his own practice, and Josh was going to be an attorney. at least those two dreams had turned out.

He squeezed his eyes shut a moment before he continued walking, breezing past his old apartment and making his way to a diner nearby. Madonna was replaced by the chattering of the crowd of Saturday morning patrons mixed with Boyz II Men.


How do I say goodbye to what we had?
The good times that made us laugh
Outweigh the bad.

This diner had been here when they had moved in. He remembered eating sticky syrupey pancakes here when his parents had come to see their new place. Of course, they hadn't known that "his" room was essentially a guest bedroom for friends and that he was sharing Sean's.

He mosied his way to an empty booth, hesitating before he slid in as he recognized the placement. This had been their booth. The one that was always open at two in the morning after a late night study session.

The waitress who came by was new, though; he was glad. He didn't think he could bear someone who had known him then.

I thought we'd get to see forever
But forever's gone away
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

He ordered a cup of coffee. Black. He felt a knot rise in his throat that he didn't need sugar and milk for Sean; he'd always teased the other man about it, but it had been so endearing how he needed to take his coffee with so much added.


I don't know where this road
Is going to lead
All I know is where we've been
And what we've been through.

Even though they were still friends he sometimes felt pain when he thought about the telepath. He missed Sean. He supposed that made sense, given that they'd spent so much of their time together.

And it hadn't felt the same with Simon. He'd liked the blond, but he still missed Sean. And sometimes he wished that his best friend was there, instead. Now that he had nobody he only missed Sean.

At least he didn't have to reject an idea because it had been special to him and Sean.


If we get to see tomorrow
I hope it's worth all the wait
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

And at least he could spend time with Greg and Daphne again, when they weren't too busy. He had missed them post break up, albeit not as much as he had Sean.

He noted that while he'd been pondering! his coffee had arrived. He took a sip, hissing in surprise as it scalded his tongue.



And I'll take with me the memories
To be my sunshine after the rain
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.


He had thought he would be over Sean by now. No missing him with knife twisting longing, no guilt over breaking up. No seething dislike of the people he dated. He could barely look at anyone Sean brought to meet him, and that just wasn't right.



And I'll take with me the memories
To be my sunshine after the rain
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

[Joshua Bernstein]

December 1993

---

Jealousy.

It always ate at him when Sean introduced him to a new paramour. He knew he was supposed to be happy for his best friend, but he couldn't shake the envy. They got to spend so much time with Sean, got to see him at his most private.

And then...then he couldn't control his drinking around the other man and they ended up in bed together. Over and over.

He was such a terrible best friend.

He heaved a sigh as he scooted onto the bar stool. Few patrons were to be seen, but empty bottles and crumpled napkins provided evidence that there had been business earlier.

The bartender was the same tired but jovial looking man who was always there. The grey in his hair spoke to years of experience, but he was still quick as ever in filling orders. He left the bottles he was arranging to stop in front of Josh.

"Work getting you down?" The bartender asked sympathetically. Even when busy he always asked about your day; on nights like this, with nobody else around, he would strike up a conversation. His name tag read Gary but Josh no longer needed the tag to remember his name he'd been here so often.

"I've just got a lot on my mind." Josh leaned his elbow on the counter, giving the other man a wry smile. "How about you? Looks like a crowd just cleared out."

Gary nodded. "There was a big Christmas party here earlier."

Josh grimaced, glad he had missed that. Fortune was shining on him there, at least.

"What can I get you? A Yuengling? Something a little stronger?"

"A Yuengling is fine." Although he wasn't driving home he was still feeling the sting of guilt over the last time he'd ended up drunk. He needed to cut back.

He knew he wouldn't.

His expression must have soured, because Gary frowned as he popped open the can of beer. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Josh shook his head, accepting the beer with a grunt. "Not really."

Silence fell between them as the attorney nursed his beer. As the alcohol coursed through his veins his resolve to stay sober crumbled.

"I'll have another please."

"Sean was by on Tuesday," Gary offered as he slid over the second beer.

"Oh."

Maybe he needed a third beer.

"Did he?" Josh asked moodily once he'd finished his second beer. He really shouldn't miss Sean. He could easily call his friend up and request they spend time together. It wouldn't be that hard, and surely Sean wouldn't tell him no (even though he should).

"I was surprised you weren't with him."

Josh shrugged. "He's seeing someone." He couldn't quite hide the bitterness in his voice.

Gary raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

Josh opened his mouth to deny this. Of course it shouldn't be, why would it be a problem? But it was. His shoulders slumped at this realization. It was a problem, and it had been since they'd broken up.

"Is she that bad?"

Objectively, no. But he didn't want to be objective. Instead of answering he held his head in his hands, still horrified at himself.

"Guess so. Double dates out of the question, then? That's too bad. I always like when my best friend has someone, double dates are always a blast."

"I'm not seeing anyone." Josh pointed out, glad to change the topic away from Sean's love life for the moment.

Gary lifted another can at him in silent question, popping the tab when Josh nodded. "You should be! You're young, you should be enjoying the dating scene, not working yourself to death. Plenty of time for that later."

He handed Josh the beer as he asked, "isn't there someone you're interested in?"

"No." Josh whispered hoarsely, but for the first time since the break up he realized that was a lie. He was interested in someone.

Unfortunately that someone was Sean. The man he'd broken up with.

The one he's blown his chances with.

He really was the worst best friend.

[Joshua Bernstein]

June 1978

---

A dark sea of caps and gowns filed down the aisles of the auditorium to the familiar tune of Pomp and Circumstances. Joshua Bernstein caught sight of his family from the corner of his eye; Talia was slumped in her seat with her arms folded across her chest. His mother was dabbing at her face with a handkerchief.

He wished that he could wave at them, but the gravitas of the ceremony would be destroyed by any act of recognition.

He marched forward.

The seating arrangements were alphabetical, and so he found himself in the front row. He'd been disappointed when he'd first found out about this state of affairs, as it meant he would be nowhere near either Donald or Bekah. At least this meant he would have an excellent view of all the proceedings, though, and he could mouth encouragement to his girlfriend when she gave her speech.

He twitched the fabric of his gown while the principal gave a welcoming speech, clapping obediently when everyone else did. He understood this occasion was important, but it required a great deal more patience than he wanted to exhibit. So many lengthy speeches left to go, and that was before the students would be handed their diplomas.

But he was determined to sit through it, not least because Rebekah had made valedictorian. He was proud of her; she was one of the smartest people he knew, a fact that other people sometimes underestimated because she was pretty. He knew she had worked hard for this, and he wanted to stay alert so that he could properly support her.

He glanced down at his program. The salutatorian was next, and then Bekah.

He wasn't on good terms with the salutatorian; Todd Cochran was virulently anti-Semitic, and it disgusted Josh that he was popular despite this. Rich told him he was being too sensitive and that Todd wasn't that bad.

Rich didn't have a father who had lost family in Germany.

But whatever Todd's failings, he couldn't butcher his Salutation. Josh knew that they had to be vetted by faculty, and although some of his teachers had expressed exasperation with him in the past he trusted them.

He had vastly underestimated the hatred his classmate harbored.

Todd gripped both sides of the podium, leaning into the microphone with a wolffish grin. "I had a speech prepared, but that isn't the speech I'm going to give." He began.

Murmurs of curiosity rippled out from the audience at this announcement. Josh straightened, narrowing his eyes sharply at the other boy.

"I know what I'm expected to discuss. The future! Oh, but I'm supposed to be optimistic about it! aren't I? I will talk about the future, but I'm here to warn you. That's right! This speech is a warning!"

His eyes glinted as he looked around the auditorium, continuing in a stage whisper.

"There are some among our student body who purport to have the interests of the common good in mind but are insidiously trying to change our school and our culture to better suit their personal interests. These same people cling to false claims of persecution when called for what they are and what they're doing."*

Although he was leaning into the podium his back was straight, and he looked ahead with steely eyed determination. Behind him the faculty watched in slackfaced shock, uncertain how to react to this change in speeches.

"Those people are the Jews."

Josh listened in stunned silence, unable to immediately accept that one of his classmates was using his position to hold an entire graduating class captive. He braved a glance at Bekah, who looked as horrified as he felt.

"And you will notice that this includes our very own valedictorian. We all know why, when the monetary influence of the Jews has been an unavoidable fact of life since the money lenders took advantage of the Europeans in the Middle Ages then how can we feign ignorance?"

Josh was no longer watching Todd. Instead he watched as Bekah began to tremble, then buried her face in her hands. He could feel fury build within him, fury that Todd would dare insinuate Bekah hadnt worked hard for her grades. This was more inspiring than even fury on his own account, or even his family.

He found himself on his feet, one fist clenched. The other had ripped off his graduation cap and flung it in Todd's direction. He didn't have a strong throwing arm and his missile fell short of it's intended target. It did, however, catch Todd's attention long enough for him to pause mid-rant.

"You know that Bekah wouldn't bribe anyone!" He snarled, projecting the best he could without a mic. "You know she's the smartest girl...no,the smartest person in our class. Sorry she kept beating you in debate club but that was skill, not money. Sorry she got better grades because she knows the material better than you."

Todd sniffed dismissively. "Of course you would defend her. You re the same as her, you have a vested interest in nobody knowing what you people are up to."

"You apologize to her!" Josh yelled, beyond angry at this point. "Apologize to her now."

He found himself making for the stage, fully prepared for a physical altercation (which would have ended poorlu, as Todd was larger than him). But before he could do more than place one hand on the edge of the stage he felt large arms wrap around him and he was pulled away.

"Let go!" He yelped, struggling, until he happened to look up and see Todd being escorted off the stage. He went limp, allowing himself to be ushered out of the auditorium by the vice principal.

The two boys were brought to the principal's office, faced with several deeply unhappy faculty. Josh folded his arms across his chest recalcitrantly.

"I'm not sorry." He preempted.

---

He didn't get to walk; his diploma was handed to him once the ceremony was over. His family were waiting for him, faces solemn. Todd's family was nearby, conspicuously not looking at their fellow parents.

Josh's mother swooped down upon him as soon as the faculty delivered him to her, wrapping both arms around him. "Oh, boopkie, your father and I are so proud."

His father reinforced this claim by patting Josh on the shoulder and giving him a tense smile.

Josh struggled out of his mother's embrace, scanning the empty auditorium. "Where's Bekah? Did she go home yet?"

Talia shook her head and inched closer to him. "She's in the girl's bathroom. She's been in there the whole ceremony, she wouldn't even give her speech."

"Aahh...can you ask her to meet me by the library?"

---

In the end, his family went home ahead of him.

"I just need to talk to Bekah." He told them, waving them away. His mother commented under her breath about how in love he was.

He ignored this.

he found Bekah waiting for him at the library as Talia had asked. "Hey." He approached her cautiously, observing tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. "I guess now everyone knows what a jerk Todd is."

A brief smile flitted across her face only to be replaced again by sobs.

"Don't listen to him. Everyone knows you're the smartest student around. You're probably the smartest in manhattan!"

She didn't look reassured. She certainly didn't stop crying, although she sputtered out a wheezy "thank you."

He furrowed his brow, tentatively wrapping one arm around her. She leaned into it, burying her face in his chest, and he slowly closed the other one around her, wondering what he ought to say.

And decided that, for once, he didn't need to say anything.

He just needed to he there.

*thanks Sean for that section

[Joshua Bernstein]

December 1996

---

"It's so generous of you and David to host this year," Bobby Bernstein beamed from the head of the table. "But I'm sorry that Tomer and Hetty got stuck in traffic."

Empty plates and half empty dishes were a testament to the fact that nobody had protested when the older Berelowitzes had told them not to wait; they weren't sure when they would arrive and didn't wins to hold up the proceedings.

Michelle smiled as she rescued Noah from his high chair, gently wiping his face with the blue and white bib his grandmother had given him. He had a remarkable ability to get food everywhere but the bib. ("Just like his aunt Talia." Grandmother Charlie had said, causing her daughter to turn red in embarrassment.)

"It's so nice to have everyone here." David smiled in response as Talia left her seat and began clearing away dishes. "I know it's hard for you and Michelle," he addressed this to Matt, who had pushed back from the table to help his sister.

"Oh, it isn't any problem!" Matt assured his brother in law. "Noah loves to see his aunt and uncle."

"When are you and Talia going to have one so Noah will have a playmate?" Michelle asked from around a struggling one year old.

Charlie interrupted this back and forth with a chuckle. "I need grand babies from all my children. I have one from Matt and Michelle, now I need Talia and David. And Josh, honey, when are you going to find some nice Jewish woman to settle down with?i need babies from my boopkie, too."

Josh nearly choked on his jelly doughnut. "Pardon?" He asked once he'd swallowed, blue eyes wide with alarm. Powdered sugar from his doughnut made his attempt at a beard look like it was going white until he dragged his napkin across his face in the hopes of hiding his expression.

After an uncomfortable silence David lifted his glass to his lips. "Which part of that is most important?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at his mother in law. "Nice, Jewish...?" He trailed off.

"We will welcome whoever Josh commits his life to." Bobby responded quickly, before his wife could answer. "Even if that isn't a Jewish woman."

"Yes, anyone you date would be welcome into the family." Talia agreed from the kitchen. "Even if that someone isn't a Jewish woman. I'm sure you would pick someone nice."

"Oh, of course she'll be Jewish," Charlie tutted at the rest of the family. "You all talk as if my boy despises his own people!"

Josh shifted awkwardly in his chair. "....I'm just so busy with work, I don't have time for a relationship."

"Oh, boopkie." His mother chided, standing to help with clearing the table. "David is in the same field as you, and he has a wife! And your father has always been so hardworking but he found time. And Michelle works and she has a baby! Are there just no nice women at the courthouse? There are some lovely young ladies at temple, let's make arrangements to have supper with one of their families sometime."

Bobby stood as well, holding out his arms in the direction of Michelle, who gratefully handed over her squirming child. "Don't rush him, honey."

"Rush! He's thirty six years old!"

"I would rather he be with someone he cares about than one of the girls from synagogue just because he feels obligated." Bobby argued. "Josh, can you help me a moment? It smells like Noah needs a diaper and I need someone to help me keep him from escaping."

Josh followed his father out of the dining room, relieved to flee his mother's demands, if only temporarily.

"Your mother, she means well." Bobby placed his squirming grandson onto the changing mat on the living room floor. "But she will come to accept anyone you love because she loves you."

Josh knelt down, holding Noah onto the floor. "I'm not in a position to date right now, but I'm sure she would."

Bobby looked disappointed.

Josh didn't notice.

[Joshua Bernstein]

June 4, 1972

---

"Did you hear?" Rebekah Katzenberg scooted closer to Josh, leaning toward him conspiratorially. Her long blonde hair was plaited into two pig tails, lending the tween an air of innocence compounded by a pleated skirt and knee high socks.

Her companion, a dark haired boy of roughly the same age, looked up from his lunch tray. "Hear what?"

He probably had; he kept up with current events, encouraged by his parents, and he kept up with school and neighborhood news, encouraged by his own social nature. But he wasn't sure what, in particular, she wanted to discuss.

"There's a woman rabbi!" Bekah bounced excitedly in her seat, in danger of knocking over the brown paper bag in front of her. "The first woman rabbi in the whole United States!"

"Ah, my mother was talking about her last night!" Josh dropped his half eaten sloppy joe, preferring to revel in the historic moment with his childhood friend. "Sally something."

"Priesand," Bekah supplied, "Sally Priesand. Oh, isn't it stupendous? I want her to be my rabbi. My mom won't go reform, though."

Josh patted her on the shoulder. "Mine, neither. But the bright side is, Rabbi Priesand blazed a trail, so when we're both grown up then I'll bet there'll be loads of women rabbis."

Bekah considered this possibility for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "You're right! And then we can go to any synagogue we like."

Josh clasped his box of chocolate milk, raising it in a mock toast. "To Rabbi Priesand and her pioneering." He offered.

Bekah fished her juice box out of her bag. "And to Stephen Wise for hiring her on as assistant rabbi. May she be promoted when the time comes."

They touched their boxes together.

"Cheers!" Josh grinned, tossing his box back and taking a long sip.

Bekah giggled excitedly.

"Cheers."

[Joshua Bernstein]

December 16 1973

---

Hanukkah would begin in three days.

Talia had been tearing about the apartment in eight year old enthusiasm, singing hanukkah, oh hanukkah at the top of her voice and trying to figure out where the presents were hidden.

Matt, all grown up at sixteen, had shut himself up in his room to escape the chaos.

"I have homework." He'd explained when asked.

Ordinarily Josh would have joined in with his sister. He thought that thirteen was very grown up, of course; he'd had his bar mitzvah that spring, after all! But he didn't see why being grown up meant giving up fun.

Today, however, he found his appetite for fun suppressed.

He was hovering near the kitchen under the pretense of reading a book for school, but he hadn't turned any pages for the last fifteen minutes. Instead he listened to his parents discuss the recent and controversial update to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

"I can't believe it!" His mother exclaimed for at least the fifth time that afternoon. "That anyone would even suggest this is normal! And psychiatrists of all people! They ought to know better."

Josh's shoulders tensed, and the words on the page blurred. He wanted to be normal, but just because the DSM said he didn't have a disorder now didn't make them right. After all, this was only a recent change, and for years he would have been classified as a deviant.

And he still was to some people. To people who understood what was acceptable and what wasn't.

To people like his mother.

"These are trained professionals. They use the best information they have to make these judgments." His father seemed less upset about the change than his mother did, but Josh was sure that he really agreed secretly. Not that he would ask; asking would almost be the same as confessing, and he couldn't do that.

He didn't want his parents to be mad at him.

"They're supposed to be helping people, not...not telling them there isn't anything wrong! What if my mother's heart doctor tried that? Oh, you're fine, just go home and keep doing what you're doing. She'd have had a heart attack years ago!"

Josh wondered what the gay equivalent of a heart attack was. If he kept noticing other boys, the way they walked and their broadening shoulders and backs and their deepening voices! would he be destroying his own life?

If he kept volunteering to run errands at the deli because the son of the owner had a friendly smile and knew a lot about history, would his parents find out in the same way they'd found out that Grandma Weiss had heart problems because she had to go to the hospital?

He'd only really started noticing over the past year, noticing and having uncomfortable dreams. And sometimes he found himself having fantasies that he knew were wrong, but if he could push the guilt aside for long enough they were also thrilling in a way.

But he didn't want to be bad and be definitely didn't want to be mentally disturbed.

"This isn't the same as heart disease, unless you meant we treat the symptoms and pretend that's doing anything.'

"It's not right." His mother was insistent. "What if one of our children was gay? Would you still be perfectly fine with the APA refusing to help them?"

Josh didn't want to hear the rest of the conversation. He picked up his book and fled to the room he shared with Matt.

"Let me in," he demanded plaintively, bolting to his bed as soon as his brother had opened the door. "I don't feel well. I'm gonna take a nap."

And so he didn't hear his father say "I would be fine with that, because they wouldn't need help."

[Joshua Bernstein]

1979

---

"And her son is living with another man, can you believe it?" Charlie shook her head in despair as she lifted a mug of coffee to her lips. "And she just accepts that, said she sees no harm in it. If either of our sons were homosexual I would just be so devastated. Poor Bernice."

Bobby murmured wordlessly into his own coffee. He loved his wife dearly; she had been one of the first people he had met upon immigrating to the United States, and her friendliness and passion had drawn him to her, first as friend and later, when her fiance was killed, as comforter, and then lover. She was smart and capable and empathetic and a million wonderful qualities.

She was also highly opinionated.

Sometimes her opinions led her to a certain distance from reality.

For instance...

"Josh is living with another man." He offered after a moment of silence wherein she gave him that look that meant she expected him to respond to her rant, preferably with something supportive.

Blue eyes narrowed at him dangerously. "That's different." She huffed, and he knew he'd struck a nerve when she reached for the drawer on the side table, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He wondered if Bernice had made the same point. "And you know it's different, Bobby, there's nothing wrong with having roommates before you're married. And that Sean Neville is such a nice young man, I couldn't wish for a better friend and roommate for our boopkie."

Bobby suppressed a sigh. He certainly liked Sean Neville well enough; he was a bright, conscientious young man with a promising future.

He was also undoubtedly in a relationship with their youngest son.

He didn't know how his wife didn't see that.

She was a smart woman and the signs were obvious. The way that the two young men looked at one another, the lighting up when the other one was mentioned or made an appearance, the near brushing of hands, the way Josh gushed about how wonderful Sean was.

The fact that neither of them had girlfriends.

He had met Rebekah, but while he certainly thought Josh liked her his son had never been smitten the way he was with Sean. And Bobby had never caught Josh staring at cleavage or women in short skirts like he had Matt.

Instead there had been what the younger Bernstein son had surely thought were surreptious glances at polished looking men in business attire.

He hadn't been surprised at the announcement that Josh and Sean had found an apartment together. He just hoped that his son would be forthright about why. After all, he had no intentions of forcing it out of him.

"You are right." He agreed after a moment, folding his hands in his lap. "You are right. There is nothing wrong with Josh and Sean."