Fridays were the best. When I came home from school Mommy would take fresh, hot, onion Kugel out of the oven. Shim’l and I would fight for the bigger piece, but I would always sneak more later. 

We sat by the table, together. Shim’l and his coupons. Me and, well, nothing. I always asked Mommy to buy me blue papers. I always wanted to sketch the frames of my house. My school.

But Totty would give Shim’l the old newspapers. And he would use the scissors to cut the coupons. They were never cut evenly. And he would buy toys sometimes with them. I knew where they were. I knew where everything was. I knew where every screw was. I still do. 

Mommy lit the candles. She covered her face. What was she thinking about? For sure about me. About Principal Leib. What was she crying about? For sure about the sneaking. The lost pieces every week. But I cry too, Mommy.

I cried when you told me I couldn't get the blue papers. I cried when I saw Shim’l stacking coupons when I had nothing.

The meal only had one part I liked. It was when Totty told a story. And this Shabbos he said one about elter zeidie.

“Elter zeidie was an architect. He designed many magnificent structures around the world.” Really? The most magnificent? Elter zeidie? “Towards the end of his life, he left us a secret heritage. A manuscript. It explains the force behind all shapes. It is the blueprint of all blueprints. But he said a true architect must not read it until he’s ready.” That’s why Mommy didn’t let me touch it? “And today is his first Yortzheit.” 

His first Yortzheit, today, I thought later when everyone was sleeping. Elter zeidie. What secrets do you hold? What is the energy of shapes? And what did Totty say the condition was? I lay flat on my back, looking up to the ceiling. It has been a long night of twirling, in my hands, a key. Speak to me elter zeidie. Tell me, what is my heritage? What did you leave? 

I heard a knock from my window. It was already morning. I started walking, and someone too small was walking in the opposite direction. When he got close I saw it was Egler the cobbler. He was holding three empty cloth bags. We heard loud banging. It was coming from the construction site, on Copperas Hill. I was there, right near the workers. A worker on the platform with his yellow helmet turned around facing me. He was really old. His beard was shorter and he wore thick rimmed glasses. He pulled a big paper out of his pockets. It looked like elter zeidie’s blueprints. “Elter zeidie?” I called out. It made a big echo, and all the workers stopped. They all looked at me and told me to leave. Elter zeidie turned around and I only saw his back. And it looked like the ceiling of my room. Donny’s light came through my window, giving an orange shade to the flowery swirls on my wall.

Why can’t I touch you, elter zeidie. Why can’t I see you?

‘A true architect can’t read it until he’s ready.’ That's it. That was the condition. I would be a true architect. If not for Shim’l, Totty would buy me the papers. Then I would be ready. But I am ready. I lifted my head, then I sat up on my bed. I picked up the key that was on the floor. 

I stepped out of my room. A crack under my foot. No, Shim’l. Don’t wake up now. But it woke up voices in my head. Berle, stop sneaking. Berle, I lit a candle for you. Berle, when the time comes I will show it to you. Blueprints of everything. Blueprints of the house. Blueprints of Principal Leib. Blueprints of Mommy, Shim’l. Blueprints of me. Mommy, I will show you the blueprints. You will smile like you always did when I told you about the shapes. Mommy, it's the force of shapes.

My face felt cold. Someone was sitting by the kitchen table and his eyes were directly on me. He looked down at my hands. Totty.