Fridays were the best. When I came home from school Mummy 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 Mummy to buy me blue papers. I wanted to sketch the frames of my house. My school.

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

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

By the meal, there was only one part I liked, when Totty told a story. This Shabbos he told 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 heritage. They are blueprints that are very deep, and they explain many things. But he said a true architect must not read them until he’s ready.” That’s why Mummy didn’t let me touch them? “And today is his first Yortzheit.”

Shim’l smirked. He leaned his arm on his plate and it flipped. I got him a napkin, he had chicken on his shirt. I didn’t like it when I had chicken on my shirt.

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, a key twirling in my hands. Speak to me, elter zeidie. Tell me, what is my heritage? What did you leave?

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

‘A true architect must not read them 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. The key slipped from my hands. I picked it up from the floor.

I stepped out of my room. I heard a crack from 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 Reb Leib. Blueprints of Mummy, Shim’l. Blueprints of me. Mummy, I will show you the blueprints. You will smile like you always did when I told you about the shapes. Mummy, 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. It was Totty.

“What is in your hand, Berle?”

Totty’s face was reddish yellow from the candles. He had dark brown creases on his forehead, and his beard was mostly black, except for a few lines of grey. The cufflinks were missing from his sleeve.

It’s a metal shape to open boxes. “A key.” “A key to where?” To all of the shapes. To the explanations.

His hand came to me. I put the key in his palm.

He removed his glasses and brought the key close to his face. I heard breathing. He looked back at me, for a long time. Elter zeidie’s candle was between us. But his eyes darkened, and water was around them. He squinted, and he looked past the flame. The edges of his lips were pulled downward.

He placed the key on the table and shook his head. I put my hands in my pockets. He lowered his head, looking back into his Sefer.

I stood quietly, waiting for Totty to tell me something. Tell me how I did wrong. Tell me how I went into your room and took the key from under your pillow. But he was silent, and learning.

The next day, I didn’t speak. On the way to shul, Totty was quiet, and Shim’l kept stepping on my shoe, and laughed.

During the meal, when I saw Mummy’s eyes, she looked away.

When Totty said the Dvar Torah I stood, and in the hallway I turned to Mummy and Totty’s room.

Totty hadn’t said anything. Maybe he wanted me to get the key again. Oh, for sure Totty knows that I deserve it.

Inside, there was Mummy’s sheitel head, which made me flinch. The beds were not set so neatly. In the second drawer between the beds, on top of the papers, lay the key. I slipped it into my pocket.

I came back to the table. I kept feeling the key in my pocket. I still remember how many teeth the key had: four teeth and the last had a split down the middle, so really four and a half.

Afterwards, Shim’l asked me if I wanted to play chess. I said yes.

He shuffled the black king and the white king behind his back, then produced two fists. “Pick one.” I picked the right hand. He frowned and opened it. My sight was blurry. Through it I saw the brass key. It was in his hand. Did I drop it? Does he want the blueprints too?

I squinted, and the blur cleared. It was the white king in his hand. I put my hand in my pocket. The key was still there.

“Berle? Is everything okay? Are you starting the game already?”

I made my favourite opening. Pawn out and then bishop, then my queen. Neighbour Ben would tell me not to do that. “Taking out your queen early makes you vulnerable,” he would say with his bushy white eyebrows going up.

I won the game, then Shim’l flipped the board. “Shim’l,” I said. His head turned in every direction but he didn’t look at me. “Shim’l. Listen to me. Maybe one day you will be better than me.” I knew that wouldn’t happen.

Later, I went outside and sat down on the grass. The sky had formed streaks and creases. White lines on a blue paper. I saw the contrast against our big tree with so much yellow. The leaves looked like a school of fish: heads, fins, and tails. And they were trying to escape, tugging in each direction.

Do the heavens have blueprints? Yes. Bubby told me that Hashem has a plan. Did Bubby ever see elter zeidie?

Through the window of the living room I could see Mummy sitting back on the leather couch. Her fingers ran through the exposed threads on the armrest. Her eyebrows were knitted and her eyes weren’t still.

Totty came into the room. He looked in my direction. He started speaking, and Mummy looked down. He started pointing.

Then Mummy looked straight at me. She came to the door, and opened it.

Totty sat in his place by the head of the table, and Mummy pointed for me to sit across from her.

“Mummy and Totty’s room is off limits,” Mummy said. “If it happens again, you’ll go to Ben’s house as a consequence.”

I pictured Ben’s house. It was boring in Ben’s house. And elter zeidie’s blueprints weren’t there.

Shim’l came out of the hallway.

“Mummy. Do you know where Berle went during the Dvar Torah?” Shim’l said. “Shim’l. Go back to your room.” Mummy looked at me. “Is that clear, Berle?”