Society’s Goy
Superstar singer Janis Ian is my spiritual kid sister. Back in 2001, after collaborating on a story, we put together an anthology, STARS, which featured original stories by all her favorite writers, and each story was about, or based on, the lyrics of one of her songs. Her first huge hit (when she was 14, believe it or not) was “Society’s Child,” about a white girl who is forbidden to a black boy. Marty Greenberg would have loved my take on it.
NOW I COULD UNDERSTAND THE TEARS AND SHAME.
SHE CALLED YOU BOY INSTEAD OF YOUR NAME,
WHEN SHE WOULDN’T LET YOU INSIDE,
WHEN SHE TURNED AND SAID,
“BUT HONEY, HE’S NOT OUR KIND.”
—Society’s Child, by Janis Ian
Octember 47, 4227 G.E.
He’s GORGEOUS!
I mean, it’s as if Morvich and Casabella and that old guy, Michael something, you know, the one who painted some big ceiling, as if they all got together and said, what’s the most beautiful thing we can paint, the most beautiful thing in all the galaxy?
I have to stop, Dear Diary. He’s got me so … so I don’t know … that I just can’t dictate any more.
Octember 49
I saw him in the library today—so he’s not just beautiful, he’s bright, too! I brushed past him, but he didn’t notice. Except for sneezing. It must be the cologne. Maybe three ounces was too much. Tomorrow I’ll use less. And I’ll change from “Ecstasy” to “Ravage Me.”
I wonder what his name is.
Octember 50
He was at the library again today. Maybe he’s a student. Whatever he is, he just stands out. I’ve got to find a way to meet him!
Octember 51
He wasn’t there today. I came home and cried and counted 51 ways to kill myself, but then I cracked a nail and had to go to the beautician to get the acrylic fixed.
Octember 52
Rabighan! That’s his name—or as near as I can come to spelling it. These foreign names are murder. I heard the lib-mech report to him that a disk he wanted had been damaged and he’d have to wait until tomorrow.
Rabighan. Rabighan. Rabighan.
It’s gorgeous!
Octember 53
He noticed me!!!!!
He dropped something—I’m not sure exactly what it was; kind of like a little flower he wears on his chest—and I picked it up, and he said “Thank you.”
Plain as day. He just looked at me, and I think he smiled a bit, and he said “Thank you!”
What a beautiful voice he has!
Octember 54
I was walking past him today, and I just blurted “Hi, Rabighan,” and he said “Hi” right back at me.
Isn’t life wonderful!!!!!
Naugustus 1
I saw him in the cafeteria today, and I sat right down next to him and said “Hi.”
“Are you sure you’re supposed to be here?” he said, like only grad students were allowed.
“I don’t mind if you don’t,” I said. Sometimes I can’t believe how bold I can be!
“You’re a very unusual young lady,” he said.
I was about to say he was very unusual too, but instead I blurted out that he was very beautiful. Well!!! I could have sunk right through the floor, except that he seemed flattered.
“We haven’t been introduced,” he said. “My name is Rabighan.”
I’d thought about this moment for days. “And mine is Valpariso,” I said.
“Valpariso?” he repeated. “Isn’t that a city back on old Earth?”
“Valencia!” I said quickly. “I meant Valencia!”
He stared at me for a minute. It was like he was seeing right through all my clothes. I liked it!!!
“I’m pleased to meet you, Valencia,” he said. “I’ve met very few young women since I came to Society III. Perhaps, when you have time, we could talk together. There’s so much I’d like to learn about your world.”
I screwed up my courage. “How about this afternoon?” I asked him. “I can tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Society.”
“This afternoon would be fine.”
And so we walked all over the campus, talking about this and that, and thank goodness he didn’t ask me who was Governor because I never remember stuff like that. He told me he’d never met anyone who was majoring in aerobics before, and he seemed fascinated by it, so I invited him to come to the game tomorrow night and watch me cheerlead, and he agreed.
I think I’m in love!!!!!!!!
Naugustus 2
He came, and he watched, and he was so polite he never once mentioned how I fell into the crowd when I was doing my backflip or how I was so busy watching him watching me that I forgot to catch Darlene when she jumped down from the top of the Human Pyramid. (They say she’ll be out of the hospital in less than a week.)
He waited while I showered and changed, and then we talked some more. I’m afraid to ask him how long he’ll be staying on Society III.
Naugustus 4
Rabighan saw me crying today. I tried to hide it, but I couldn’t.
“What’s wrong, Valencia?” he asked.
“I’m in love with you and you’re going to be leaving soon!” I sobbed.
“I have no intention of leaving Society for years,” he said. “I like it here.” He watched me for a moment, and then added: “You are still crying.”
“You’ve never once said you liked me,” I said.
“I like you.”
“Very much?” I asked, blowing my nose.
He shrugged. “Very much.”
“Then how come you never walk me home, or ask to meet my parents?”
“I grew up on a different world,” he said. “I am not aware of your social traditions. Is that what is expected of me—that I should meet your parents?”
I was still crying too hard to speak, so I just nodded.
“Then I shall.”
“They’re playing bingo tonight,” I said. “But you could come for dinner tomorrow.”
“If that is what you wish.”
I wonder if a grad student can afford a real starstone, or if my engagement ring will have to be something dull and ordinary, like a blue diamond?
Naugustus 5
All day I was too nervous to eat. I put on my half-inch eyelashes and the rouge and the phosphorescent purple lipstick so I’d look more mature, and then I waited in my room for Rabighan to come.
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew the Spy-Eye was saying that we had a visitor, and even though I ran as fast as I could, Mama beat me to the front door by a good five steps. She opened it, and there he was in all his splendor.
“Yes?” she said, staring at him.
“Rabighan,” he replied.
“You’ve made a mistake,” said Mama. “I think the Rabighans live over on the next block.”
“I am Rabighan.”
For a moment Mama looked confused. Then suddenly she nodded. “Ah, you must be here to fix the trash atomizer. It’s around the back.”
“I am here at Valencia’s request,” he said.
“We don’t have any Valencia here.”
It was his turn to look confused. “Valpariso, perhaps?”
“No,” said Mama, getting annoyed.
“Do you have a daughter?”
“Yes.”
“And her name is not Valencia or Valpariso?”
“Her name is Gertrude.”
I wanted to shrink down to insect size, but I knew if I did Mama would slam the door in his face before I could explain, so I walked up and stood where she couldn’t shut it without smashing my head.
“Why, Rabighan!” I said. “What a surprise!”
“You know this Rabighan?” said Mama.
“He’s an old friend.”
“You don’t have any old friends,” she said. “We just moved here from New Brooklyn two months ago.”
“Well, we’re so close that he feels like an old friend,” I said.
“How close?” demanded Mama, cocking an eyebrow and giving me The Look.
“What a thing to ask!” I said, trying to look offended.
I’m not half as good at looking offended as Mama is. She turned toward the living room and called for Daddy.
“Milton!” she hollered. “Come quick!”
Daddy plodded in a minute later, looking like she’d just woke him up.
“What is it and why is the door open and who is standing in it?” he said.
“This is Rabighan,” I said.
Daddy stared at Rabighan, who smiled at him. Daddy ignored it.
“Rabighan is the Moslems’ holy month,” he said at last. “Who is this?”
“His name is Rabighan,” I repeated. “He’s my friend.”
“Her close friend,” added Mama.
“We’re in love!” I blurted out.
Daddy blinked his eyes. “How can you be in love?” he said. “He’s a vegetable!”
“But he’s the most gorgeous, intelligent vegetable I’ve ever met!”
“You don’t meet vegetables,” said Daddy. “You buy them at the market and then you eat them with salad dressing.”
“I resent that!” said Rabighan.
“You keep out of this!” snapped Daddy. He glared at Rabighan. “And while I’m thinking of it, where’s your yarmulkah?”
“My what?” asked Rabighan.
“Hah!” said Daddy. “I knew it! You’re outta here!”
“You can’t talk to him like that!” I said fiercely. “I’m going to marry him!”
I thought Mama was going to faint, but Daddy just looked stern.
“The hell you are!” he said.
“You’re just biased against vegetables!” I cried.
“I’ve got nothing against vegetables,” he said. “Some of my favorite meals are vegetables.”
“Then what have you got against Rabighan? You don’t even know him!”
“I know everything I have to know.”
“You used to tell me that when I grew up I could marry whoever I wanted!” I sobbed. “You never said anything about vegetables!”
“I don’t care that he’s a vegetable!” said Daddy. “I care that he’s a goy!”
There was a sudden silence.
Finally Rabighan spoke up. “What is a goy?” he asked.
“You are,” said Daddy. “A goy is anyone that’s not Jewish,” he explained, as if that was the worst thing in the universe.
“You mean I could marry a Jewish vegetable?” I asked sarcastically.
“Find one and we’ll talk,” he said.
Mama finally spoke up. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go now, Mr. Rabighan. I’d invite you to stay for supper, but we’re probably eating a bunch of your relatives.”
She closed the door in his face and then turned to me. “Couldn’t you see he wasn’t our kind, Gertrude?”
“This isn’t over,” I promised her as I ran off to my bedroom. “Not by a long shot!”
The last thing I heard before I slammed the door was my father complaining: “What’s the world coming to when your own daughter brings one of them home for supper?”
WALK ME DOWN TO SCHOOL, BABY.
EVERYBODY’S ACTING DEAF AND BLIND—
UNTIL THEY TURN AND SAY,
“WHY DON’T YOU STICK TO YOUR OWN KIND?”
—Society’s Child
Naugustus 6
I cried myself to sleep last night. Daddy can be so unreasonable.
This morning I cut classes and looked all over the campus until I found Rabighan. Most of the kids just averted their eyes and pretended we weren’t together.
“I’m sorry they treated you so bad, baby,” I said sympathetically, taking hold of one of his six arms. “I hope you didn’t take it too hard.”
“A vegetable has no ego,” he said.
“No ego?”
“None.”
A frightening thought occurred to me. “Does that mean we can’t … uh … well, you know?”
He stared at me curiously but didn’t say anything. It’s like he had no idea what I was trying to ask him.
“Never mind,” I said. “I just want you to know that no matter what Daddy says, nothing’s going to keep us apart.”
I held his arm tighter, to show how much I loved him.
It broke off in my hands.
“Ohmygod!” I said. “Are you all right? Should I get you to a hospital?”
“I’m fine,” said Rabighan.
“But your arm …” I said, holding it up for him to see.
“I’ll just grow another one.”
“You can do that?”
“Of course.”
I decided not to mention it to Daddy. He’d just point out that Jewish boys hardly ever grow back body parts.
“Hiya, Trudy,” said Benny Yingleman as he walked toward us. “What have you got in your hands there?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said, trying to hide Rabighan’s arm behind my back.
“That’s some boyfriend you’ve got yourself,” he said with a nasty smile. “Most plants just shed leaves.”
“Yeah?” I said heatedly. “Well, he can grow anything to any size he wants whenever he wants.” I gave him a withering look of contempt mixed with pity. “Can you do that?”
“Are you guessing, or is that a first-hand observation?” asked Abe Silverman, who I didn’t know was coming up behind us but obviously heard every word I said.
“Why don’t you leave us alone!” I screamed.
“Hey, are we asking to come along on one of your dates?” said Abe.
“Where does he take you, Trudy?” asked Benny. “The biology department’s greenhouse, or do you just find a cozy swamp somewhere?”
I turned to Rabighan. “Are you just going to stand there and let them tease you like that?”
He looked confused. “I thought they were teasing you.”
“It’s the same thing!” I snapped. “We’re one flesh and one soul!”
“Actually, she’s got the math right,” said Benny. “He hasn’t got any flesh …”
“… and no vegetable has a soul,” concluded Abe.
“He’s got more soul than you do!” I said furiously.
“You think so?” said Abe. He turned to Rabighan. “Hey, Veggie—where do you guys go when you die?”
“We don’t go anywhere when we die,” answered Rabighan. “Our limbs no longer function.” He looked curious. “Do you continue to ambulate after death?”
Abe shot me a triumphant grin. “See?”
“All I see are a bunch of bigots teasing the most beautiful, most perfect thing in the universe,” I said.
They just laughed and kept on walking.
“I hate them!” I muttered.
“I thought they were your friends,” said Rabighan.
“I thought so, too,” I said. “I was wrong.” I turned to him. “Once we’re married, let’s leave Society and go to a world where people will accept us.”
“You keep using that term,” he said. “What is married?”
“You’re joking, right?” I said.
“I am a vegetable,” he said. “Very few vegetables know how to make jokes.” He paused. “What is married?” he asked again.
“It’s a ceremony that will make us man and wife.”
“I will become a wife?”
“No, silly!” I laughed. “I will be the wife.”
“Then this ceremony—it will make me into a man?” he asked uneasily. “It sounds painful.”
“You don’t understand,” I replied. “It’s a beautiful ceremony, and when it’s over we will spend the rest of our lives together.”
He stopped in his tracks. “But that’s horrible!” he said.
Suddenly he didn’t look quite so beautiful. “What’s so horrible about spending the rest of your life with me?” I demanded.
“You will die in another seventy or eighty years,” he answered. “And if I am to share the rest of my life with you, then that’s when I will die, too.” He paused. “But if I am not married, then I can expect to live at least two millennia, perhaps three if I find some exceptionally favorable soil in which to root.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My adolescence will only last another few centuries,” he said. “After that, I will find a planet with acceptable rainfall and the proper nutrients in the soil and extend my roots into it. I will then delve silently into the universal and ageless questions of philosophy and examine the eternal verities, and if I should be fortunate enough to gain some new insights, I will pass them along to my seedlings.”
And suddenly I realized what a fool I had been, what kind of a future I had almost let myself in for—no dancing, no holo theaters, no pizza, just standing around thinking. With each passing second, he was looking less like the most gorgeous lover in the galaxy and more like an animated fern.
“All right, Rabighan,” I said. “It’s time to admit that we came very close to making a terrible mistake. Let’s be mature and shake hands and walk away from each other and not look back.” I even forced a tear for dramatic purposes, but it caught in my half-inch eyelash and never rolled down my cheek.
“If that is your wish,” he said. “But I would prefer not to shake hands.”
“Why not?” I mean, if I could touch a goy, what was his problem?
“I really can’t spare any more.”
CAN’T SEE YOU ANY MORE.
NO, I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU ANY MORE, BABY.
—Society’s Child
Naugustus 39
I think I’m in love—and this time I know it’s the Real Thing.
My God, he’s just BEAUTIFUL!!!!!
His name is Krffix, and he can’t be away from water for more than an hour at a time, but that’s okay—I’ve always thought it would be neat to live by the seashore.
The problem is that the world is filled with small-minded bigots, but at least I’ve had some experience with them, thanks to the time I spent with—what was his name now?—Rasputin? Ramses? Oh, well, I know who I mean.
Back to Krffix. We can put a shirt on him, so Daddy won’t notice the scales right away, and if we say he’s an artist, he can wear an ascot and cover his gills and nobody will think anything of it. As for his nose … well, he can always tell people that he lost it in the war.
He never blinks, which can be a little disconcerting at first, but after you get used to it, it just makes him look very intellectual, like he’s concentrating on whatever people are saying to him.
Okay, he eats worms—but if I tell Daddy they’re kosher worms, how can he object?
Mrs. Krffix. Mrs. Morning Glory Krffix. I like it!!!
I wonder if he’s willing to convert?