The Absolutely True Story of Purim

It's not for no reason that we do all these weird things during the holiday, like eat a mon tashen.

    "Dad, why do you hate the Jews?"
    "Because they're stiff-necked and they want to take over the world. Now go wash your hands, it's suppertime." Little Vajezatha did as he was told -- not unlike everyone else in the kingdom.
    The 10 sons of Haman were at the table, awaiting their father. As the prime minister of all Persia, he obeyed but two people on earth: his king, and his wife. Which is why he liked to be summoned to dinner.
    But just as Zeresh (that would be the wife) called for him, "Ham--", Vajezatha cranked his new toy, "Gra-gra-gra!" 
    "Ham--"
    "Gra-gra-gra!"
    Zeresh glared at her youngest son. "Put that stupid toy away!" she barked. She tried again. "Ha--"
    "Gra-gra-gra!" Vajezatha giggled. From now on, the mischievous lad decided, any time Mom tried to call Dad, he'd crank it.
    "Where'd you get the cool tool?" his brother Parmashta asked.
    "My new friend, David."
    That -- if you know your Jewish history -- figures.

THE FOLLOWING day, in the city of Shushan, in the kingdom of Persia, within the realm of 127 nations from India to Ethiopia united under one glorious ruler, a little boy looked up at a woman in a doorway and said: "Can David come out to play?" This usually isn't worth mentioning in the context of historical documentation, but in this case, being that the doorway belonged to the Jewish leader named Mordechai, and the kid belonged to Haman, the world was about to change.
    David scooted out.
    "Hey, thanks for the toy," Vajezatha said. "It's driving my Mom crazy!"
    They played "chase" for a while, then "haj and go sikh," Vajezatha being extra careful not to scuff his new shoes, which his mother bought especially for the feast. But feasts and boys being what they respectively are in this kingdom, he'd need two new pairs of shoes by the end of it. This feast was 180 days long.
    "My Dad took me four times!" Vajezatha boasted.
    "My Dad won't let me go," David admitted dejectedly.
    "How come?"
    "Cuz we're Jewish. Jewish people only fast, don't feast. Boy, I wish I wasn't Jewish sometimes. Y'know, when I go home after playing, my mother yells at me that I'm behaving like a shegetz -- as if only the non-Jews are allowed to have fun. Jeez, I wish --"
    Vajezatha was agog. His jaw dropped to his knees. "You're a what?! A Jew? Can't be!"
    "Am so."
    "Are not."
    "I can prove it."
    Vajezatha had an idea. "Look up." David looked up. "Y'see? That proves you're not Jewish. My Dad says the Jews are stiffnecked, and you're not."
    "Am so."
    "Well if you're Jewish, you're in big trouble. My Dad's gonna hang your Dad from the gallows."
    "Oh yeah?" Mordechai's son retorted hotly, "well my Dad's gonna hang your Dad from the gallows, so there!"
    "No, I'm serious, the Hebes are gonna dangle, that's what he said at dinner yesterday. He had a really bad day at the office, said this Jewish guy is trying to squeeze him out or something. He was real mad. Hey -- I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone."
    "Promise."
    "Ya gotta promise, because my Dad told me not to tell anyone, OK?"
    "I promise, I promise! Tell me!"
    "Adar 13, all the Jews in the whole kingdom -- kk-cht!" the Persian boy said, slicing a hand across his throat.
    "No way!"
    "I'm tellin' ya!"
    "I got a secret too, and I'm not allowed to tell," David taunted.
    "But I told you mine!"
    "OK, but don't tell anyone. Queen Esther is really ... my Auntie Esther!"
    "G'wan! You're fullovit!"
    "I swear!"
    "You tellin' me the queen is Jewish? That's a good one!"
    "Is so!"
    "Is not!"
    "DAYYY-VID!" his mother hollered, which really embarrassed him. "Come in for milk and cookies!" The boys trotted in, panting and sweaty. "Tuck in your shirt, you look like a shegetz," she admonished her son, but smiled sweetly at the stranger. "Here. Have a cookie."
    "What kinda cookie?" Haman's son asked suspiciously, for if these people were Jews, well, you never know. He might be poisoned and all his blood drained out to make those Passover matzas. Well, that's what his mother said they did.
    "It's a tashen, filled with mon," she answered.
    “Poppy seeds,” David whispered to his friend.
    He'd never heard of this. "A mon tashen?"
    David was already wolfing down his second, so Vajezatha figured it must be safe. He bit into one and valiantly forced a smile. It was a weird thing to do with poppy seeds, but he'd die before he'd spit the stuff out. "Delicious," he said.
    David had a sudden thought. "Mom, when's it gonna be Adar 13?"
    Vajezatha threw him a menacing glare. David caught it.
    "Pretty soon, dear. Why?"
    "No reason. Just wondering."
    "Tell you what, David," his mother said, "why don't we give your friend --"
    "-- Vajezatha."
    "Why don't we give Vajezatha a plateful of these cookies to take home? You can play 'home-delivery man' and take it yourself, David. But be back home for supper."
    "Sure, Mom!"
    She cut out a round piece of parchment, piled up a few tashen, plus an apple, some raisins and dates, and assorted goodies her family didn't like anyway, and covered it with crinkly gift-wrap.
    "Hey, I got an idea!" David cried.
    "Have," his mother corrected. "I have an idea."
    "Let's pretend it's the real thing, and dress up! I'll put on a delivery-man costume. You go on ahead home and put on your sister's clothes and make like you're a housewife, and then I'll deliver this stuff to you. It's a great idea!"
    "It's a terrible idea, because I'm not dressing like a lady, and anyway, I got nine brothers and no sisters."
    "Oh. Then -- I got it! We'll make you a highwayman costume, and you can rob me on the way there!"
    "Now you're talking!"
    The boys got into their costumes, took the plate of goodies and crossed over into the next neighborhood. One robbed the other, they chased each other around, and then shrieking in laughter they proceeded to Vajezatha's house.
    The boys bounded in.
    The Persian's mother, Zeresh, was in a bad mood. She told David to wait outside.
    After quite a while, Vajezatha came out, looking glum. They sat on the stoop.
    "What's up?" the Jewish boy asked.
    "Remember what I said about my Dad hanging your Dad from the gallows? Well, the king changed his mind."
    "But that's great!"
    "Dummy, I said he changed his mind. Instead, your Dad is gonna hang my Dad from the gallows."
    "You're puttin' me on."
    "Am not. Royal decree. My Mom just told me."
    "But my Dad wouldn't --"
    "And that's not all. We can't be friends anymore. Y'know why?"
    "Cuz I'm Jewish?"
    "No, cuz I'm gonna be hanged too. Me and my brothers. Royal decree."
    "You're having me on."
    "Am not."
    "Are too. C'mon, you're just a kid."
    "History is cruel that way. That's what my Mom said."
    David sighed bitterly. He put an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Poor you."
    Indeed.
    Poor 'im.

Yeah, I know, it's a totally depressing story, but hey -- that's what we're celebrating today. Happy Purim, everyone.