The Pear Tree on the Other Side

Chapter 1The Usual Way

The first thing Nachum noticed was not the new sign. It was the row of chairs.

They stood in Mrs. Adler's old garden beneath the pear tree. A low table sat between them. The gravel path, which had always led from the back lane to Elm Street, now led directly through somebody's place for sitting.

Nachum had two library books beneath his arm. He stopped at the side gate.

Mr. Feld came around the corner carrying a watering can.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Were you looking for someone?"

"I use this path to get to the lending library."

Mr. Feld set the can down.

"We're not keeping the garden open as a path. You'll need to go around by the street."

Nachum looked at the chairs again.

Then he saw the sign on the gate: Private garden. Please use the public path.

"Mrs. Adler let us."

"I understand. We've changed how we use the garden."

Mr. Feld spoke pleasantly. The gate was still closed.

Chapter 2Nine Extra Minutes

Going around took nine extra minutes.

Nachum had timed the usual walk through the garden at six minutes. Today he checked the bakery clock before leaving and the library clock when he arrived: fifteen minutes. He had not hurried. He had been too busy thinking about the chairs.

For three summers, Mrs. Adler had allowed neighborhood children to use her path during the day. She had asked them to close the gate and not pick the pears.

Nachum had done both.

Now he reached the lending library just as Mr. Gross turned the open sign around.

"I only need to return these."

Mr. Gross accepted the books, but the shelves were already being covered for the evening.

"Choosing time is finished. Come tomorrow."

Nachum put his empty hands into his pockets.

He had meant to choose the next book in a series. Instead, he had completed a walk.

There ought to have been a shelf for that.

Chapter 3Something That Used to Be True

At home, Tatty was sorting nails into little boxes.

"The new neighbor won't let us use the path," Nachum said.

"Which path?"

"Mrs. Adler's."

Tatty put down a nail.

"Is it still Mrs. Adler's garden?"

"You know what I mean."

"I do. She moved. The Felds live there now."

Nachum sat beside the worktable.

"I never took a pear. I always shut the gate."

"That was right. Her permission had conditions, and you kept them."

"Then why should it stop?"

Tatty pushed one little box shut.

"Because it was her permission for her garden. It wasn't a promise from every person who might live there."

Nachum stared at the neat rows of nails.

"It was the best way to the library."

"It was the shortest. That's not quite the same thing."

Chapter 4A Very Small Suggestion

The next day, Nachum met his cousin Menashe in the back lane.

Menashe had heard about the sign.

"If we go by the edge, we won't disturb the chairs."

"He said to use the street."

"Only for a minute. He might not mind once he sees."

Nachum looked through the wooden slats. The path was empty. One chair had a folded cushion on it.

He could almost feel the old walk beneath his shoes.

Then he pictured Mr. Feld finding two boys in the garden after speaking clearly to one of them.

"I don't want to make him say it again," Nachum said.

Menashe frowned.

"You sound like my father."

"Today I had practice."

They went toward Elm Street. Menashe took the next corner home, leaving Nachum to walk the longer part alone.

Chapter 5The Right Question

Nachum brought his library card to the front door of the Felds' house that afternoon. Tatty came with him.

He had practiced one question while they walked.

Mr. Feld opened the door.

"I wanted to ask if the path might be open only during library hours," Nachum said. "Not all day."

Mr. Feld listened without interrupting.

"Thank you for asking. But no. We need the garden to stay private."

Nachum waited. He had expected a reason he could fix.

"We won't pick anything," he said.

Tatty rested a hand lightly on his shoulder.

Mr. Feld's answer did not change.

"I know you took care of the old arrangement. We're choosing a different one."

Nachum looked down at his library card.

"All right."

This time, all right meant that he had heard the answer. It did not mean he liked it.

Chapter 6No Bargain Beneath the Pear Tree

As they left, Mrs. Feld came into the front hall. Her hair was covered with a cream-colored tichel.

"We have a bag of pears from the tree," she said. "Would your family like some?"

Nachum looked at Tatty.

For a moment, the pears seemed like the beginning of a bargain. If they took them, perhaps things would be friendly enough to ask again.

Tatty thanked Mrs. Feld and accepted the bag.

Outside, Nachum said, "Can we ask next week?"

"What new question would we be asking?"

Nachum shifted the bag in his arms.

"The same one."

"Then let the answer stand. The pears are a gift, not a path."

One pear had a little bent stem. Nachum rolled it beneath his thumb.

The fruit smelled exactly as it had when Mrs. Adler lived there. That did not make the garden hers again.

Chapter 7The Public Path

Nachum and Tatty walked the public route together before the next library visit.

At the first corner, Tatty pointed to a narrow turn Nachum had missed. It led past the bakery without circling the whole block.

They stopped at the road crossing and waited for traffic to clear.

The route was still longer than the garden path. It was not nine minutes longer anymore.

"We can leave earlier," Nachum said.

"Yes."

"And use this corner."

"Yes."

Tatty did not say the new route was better. There was no pear tree beside it, and no strip of shade through a quiet garden.

They reached the library with choosing time left.

Mr. Gross found the next book in Nachum's series.

Nachum tucked it beneath his arm. This time, he carried something home.

Chapter 8On the Other Side

A week later, Menashe walked with him again.

At the back lane, Menashe slowed down.

"Still closed?"

"Still private."

Through the gate, Nachum could see the chairs beneath the tree. Mrs. Feld was sitting in one with a book. Her cream-colored tichel caught the afternoon light.

Mr. Feld looked up from a flowerbed and waved.

Nachum waved back.

He did not point at his library book or mime a question about crossing.

He and Menashe turned toward the public path.

"It used to be quicker," Menashe said.

"It did."

Nachum moved the book to his other arm. They had left with enough time, and the bakery corner was ahead.

Behind them, the pear tree stayed where it had always been.

The way past it had changed.