Sarah and the hoover

Her entire life Mrs. Sarah Hershenson was washing the floors with no mops, just with her hands, on her knees. She was scrubbing all the corners thoroughly with the rag, twice each, just the way she was taught. She used to do it pretty often.

She had to – three daughters and two sons, her husband, grandma Tzipi and grandma Pesiya, her nephew Jacob, Yankee, who wanted to study violin but in the tiny town where her sister moved when she got married there were no decent music teachers, and of course all the guests, God bless them – the house was always full of them…

Until Sonja grew up and solemnly took the rag off her mother’s hands, Sarah used to sweep, wash the floor, collect the dust and wash again, five times a day – azohen vey, where does all this dirt come from!..

And when her husband passed, in such an unexpected and scary way – after the Shiva was over and she closed the door behind the last guest, she got right away to scrub and scrape her floors, walls, windows, she was scraping and wiping, feeling lighter with each stroke until finally the tears started flowing from her dry, sore eyes and she cried her heart out sitting on the floor by the bucket, dropping her head on her clamped hands. She always went for her bucket-and-rag when she was sad or scared. Spotless house was her fortress and her medicine.

And then her back and her joints started hurting. Her fingers, accustomed to cold water, wouldn’t bend so well anymore.
She wasn’t complaining, god forbid, but her children grew up to be loving and caring. And one day they solemnly carried into the house a beautiful box on their outstretched hands, unpacked it and launched a super-robotic- vacuum cleaner that looked like a flying saucer.

You’ll have to rest eventually, Mom, Sonja said, at least now, when all of us have left the house and you’re staying only with Musiya and Basiya.
Musiya and Basiya meowed approvingly. They agreed that now, without a whole bunch of meshigane kids, it’s a good time to take proper rest.

Sarah was staring at the flying saucer and thinking, azohen vey, they think this funny round little thingy can replace good old broom and rag. But the kids were so happy. Well, I can give him a chance, Sarah thought.
And thus her vacuum cleaner days have begun.
He wasn’t very bright, but he was really trying his best.

He made Sarah feel terribly self-conscious. Before pressing the button she would always grab her broom and rag and make a quick do-over.
Oh, come on, she would say, there’s so much dust and dirt in the corners, what would people think of me?!
And when the “people” would roll out from behind the couch, humming busily, Sarah would look at her watch and pretend she forgot something, running into the next room and shrinking in the corner. She was embarrassed. For the first time in her life someone was doing her work for her. She felt constant need to apologize and explain it wasn’t on purpose. Musiya and Basiya quietly disapproved of this nonsense as well. It looked suspicious and made noise. And so, the three of them huddled together in an awkward tight lump on the bed, staring at the busy stranger
with watchful shining eyes.

Sarah felt like her life was seeping away with this humming noise.
Grandma Tzipi would whack me with a towel, Sarah thought sadly. And grandma Pesiya wouldn’t say anything, just purse her lips and think so loud that I’d much prefer the towel.

Mom, Sonja was shouting over the phone, are you taking rest, mom? Isn’t this robot thing super cool?
Sure, honey, – her mother would say, – I can finally forget about the rag and the broom and…about everything, she would say, staring sidewise behind the couch.

The relentless worker’s white cheeks were glistening. Sarah could feel his stern, reproachful look. You should be smacked with a rag, blinking little lights were telling her. What happened, your hands don’t work or maybe your legs cannot move, they were asking her bitterly.
It’s a good thing your grandmothers didn’t live to see those days, they were sighing, when their granddaughter sits on her tuches while others clean her house for her.
Sarah hunched in embarrassment, hiding behind the back of the chair and reminiscing about the days when she was young and jolly, carrying the heavy bucket with ice-cold water, hissing slightly while wringing out the rag – her fingers went numb, and climbed under the bed to scrub everything thoroughly. And the grandmothers were ordering, there, there, you missed a spot, and here’s another one, good, now you just have to reach over there…Oh, those nowadays girls, don’t be so lazy!.. A mop? What mop?! Just put your back into it! Azohen vey, you can’t really clean properly with a mop…
And in the evening she laughing and whispering in her husband’s ear, grandma Tzipi is so funny!.. And grandma Pesiya is frowning, but she forgot to wipe away the smile from the corners of her eyes. And they are not so bad at all, why were you trying to scare me… He would just embrace her tighter without saying a word.
And she taught Sonja well. And Fira, and Fanny, of course. Well, you should point out the forgotten corners just a few times, otherwise the girls can do everything just great, and she doesn’t have to feel embarrassed in front of their husbands. Sarah was secretly proud of her parenting skills.

And now this. This robot. They turned her into unnecessary piece of furniture. What’s left to do, but lie down, stretch her legs and die?!

Sarah got up, pursed her lips stubbornly and brought vacuum cleaner’s box from the storage room. She grabbed the desperately resisting invader quickly and tightly, pushed him into the box head first, pushed under the bottom shelf in a storage room, slammed the door and latched it.

That’s it, she said, trying to calm down her heart that was beating somewhere in her throat. That’s it. I’ve had it. Grandma Tzipi and grandma Pesiya would be proud of me. I am going to live. Everything is going to be fine.