DISOWNED Read Online Free PDF

"Rivkah," it comes calling, "you forgot to tell me Good Shabbos."
    "Good Shabbos, grandma," Rivkah calls down the stairs.
       "You forgot to say you loved me." Devorah's voice is tiny now.
    Rivkah is barely able to hear. "Rivkah come give me a Shabbos kiss."
       At the top of the staircase, Rivkah says nothing, just hears
    Devorah's tiny voice pleading, "there's no one left to give me a Shabbos kiss."
       Rivkah pushes the door open. How can I go and kiss her? Rivkah pleads with herself. I don't love her. She doesn't love me. Then, she closes the door behind her tight.
       "Your grandma was extra upset with you today," Molly says to Rivkah a little later that night while she is reading. "She doesn't know why you never stay home for Shabbos."
    Rivkah just plays with the edges of the book's pages.
    "Grandma said for now you can still go to your Uncle Reb Bershky, but you'd better get ready. The time is coming."
       "What time?"
      "When you won't be able to go anymore." 
       The warning comes clearly, but Rivkah can barely hear it. How can she hear it? She is still too young. She hasn't grown tall yet, or turned beautiful. She hasn't grown breasts, or long, flowing legs. She's still dressed in old, hand me down, cotton dresses that cover her completely.
      Later that night Rivkah walks over to the narrow window in the alcove of the living room. A little silk curtain covers it. She parts the curtain slowly, looks out onto the street and wonders what time is coming exactly? What did my mother mean?
     

 
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
     
       But something is starting to happen. Something which does not happen so easily in Borough Park. Something, in fact, that has no real place here at all. 
    Amidst the synagogues, Sabbaths, prayers and learning, amidst her grandmother, grandfather, and throngs of relatives who are constantly watching, secretly Rivkah's breasts are starting to grow.
    And barely twelve years old! Early! Much too early here!
    "Why is this happening to her?" Devorah whispers to Molly out loud in front of everyone, one long, lonely afternoon. In fact, she whispers loud enough so Rivkah can hear her. "It's a terrible thing. Cover her up!"
       Molly, who rarely comes downstairs, quickly gathers herself together, winces, and runs back upstairs without so much as a word. Rivkah races upstairs behind her, rushes into the bathroom and shuts the door.
       Devorah hardly ever comes upstairs to visit but today, Devorah is not finished with the conversation. She comes trudging upstairs to talk to Molly more. It is the end of autumn now, the very edge of winter with cold, stark winds beginning to blow.  Shut in the bathroom, Rivkah hears the front door of their apartment open.  Achill passes through her fast. She knows her grandmother's footsteps well. A wave of danger passes through the apartment.  It’s trouble, Rivkah thinks as she goes and opens the bathroom door, and listens. Molly is standing in the kitchen turning the fire on under a pot of tea. 
       "What are you doing here, mamma?" Molly turns around startled, as Devorah stomps in.
     Set for sudden danger Rivkah slips quickly out of the bathroom, and goes to the kitchen door.
     Without even turning around, Devorah sees her. "Go into your room for a minute," she says throatily. She speaks as if Rivkah were an apparition, a ghost of some kind who didn't belong.
       "Why?" says Rivkah.
    "Enough with your WHYS!" Her grandmother turns on her tartly. “Go."
    Rivkah goes into her room and presses her body completely against the thin bedroom door. Every pore body listens to the women's voices.  She hears Devorah take Molly into the sitting parlor and tell her to sit down on Henry’s overstuffed chair.
       "I'd rather not, mamma." Molly sounds scared.
    "Now." Devorah is impatient. "This is no time for fooling around."
    "What happened?" Molly's voice grows smaller.
       "Just sit down."
       Rivkah can feel her mother's trembling as