The Pocket Watch

I’m Daniel Lehrman, and my Bar Mitzvah is a disaster.

Okay, it hasn’t actually happened yet but from the way things are going, it’s going to be a disaster. You see, some of my friends have had actual famous rock stars perform at their Bar Mitzvahs. Some have even had big-time actors make appearances. And I’m not talking about some D-list ones either. I’m talking about major movie stars. The biggest names from the most popular films. Why, this one girl I know actually had C-3PO and R2-D2 make an appearance at her Star Wars-themed Bat Mitzvah.

Needless to say, that’s all everyone was talking about at Mark Twain Middle School on Monday.

I’m not sure when the tradition started to make Bar and Bat Mitzvahs as big a spectacle as weddings, but I wanted in. Unfortunately, as Mom and Dad told me many, many times, things like that required big money, and while there was plenty that my family did have, lots of money wasn’t on that list.

So for my Bar Mitzvah, I wasn’t going to have celebrities or rock stars, and instead, I was going to have music provided by DJ Mitzvah Mel and the Meshuga Bunch. No, I’m not making that up; that’s their real name. I think my dad had a Groupon or something. And as for actors, there was nobody famous going to show at mine either. But on the other hand, I did have my aunt Ashley, who had appeared in a community theater production of Guys and Dolls last February. And while you may think that’s not a big deal, the Gravesend Gazette, our local paper, referred to her as a “standout in an otherwise dreary adaptation.”

That newspaper clip is now highlighted and hanging on her refrigerator.

So while I was still excited about my Bar Mitzvah, I have to admit that my expectations have been severely tempered when I compared mine to my classmates’. Not that it’s a competition, but yeah, everyone in school acted like it was a competition.

For now, I had to resign myself to the fact that I was going to have the fifteenth best B’nai Mitzvah out of my youth group Kadima chapter. And there were only sixteen of us in there. At least, I’m pretty sure that I’d beat out Sarah Lefkowitz’s Bat Mitzvah, since her uncle Larry’s sleeve caught fire when he was lighting his candle. There were no injuries, but there was a huge scene when the rabbi had to get the fire extinguisher to spray him out. Still, I didn’t want to take that victory lap quite yet, since Sarah did manage to play that for laughs for weeks afterward. As a matter of fact, the YouTube video of the incident had racked up a couple of hundred thousand hits. I’d been considering asking Mom if she wouldn’t mind doing a pratfall during the mother-son dance so I could post it on social media, but knowing her, she’d never go for it.

So back to my uncool Bar Mitzvah. As of this moment, I have a couple of days left before the big event and nothing at all in the works to make it memorable.

There was a knock at my bedroom door.

I sat up and put my Spider-man comic down next to me. “Come in.”

The door opened, and someone ducked their head in. “How’s the Bar Mitzvah boy?”

“Grandpa!” I jumped off the bed and ran to hug him. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

He kissed my cheek. “I wanted to surprise you!”

I smiled up at him. “Well, you did.”

He studied my face. “Is something wrong? You look down.”

I frowned. “I don’t know. You’ll think it’s silly.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder. “If something is bothering you, I’ll never think it’s silly.”

I thought a moment, stared into his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out. “Well, it’s just that I’m not going to have any celebrities at my Bar Mitzvah.”

He snorted. “That’s what’s bothering you? You’re right. That is silly.”

“You said you wouldn’t think that!”

“Yes, but that was before you told me what it was.”

I threw my arms up in the air. “Ashley Cohen had C-3PO and R2-D2!”

He shrugged. “So?”

“SO?” My jaw dropped. He was clearly not getting the importance. “Droids, Grandpa! She had real Star Wars droids! That’s all everyone talked about for weeks. I mean, even Evan Rothberg had a singer from some eighties group that I never heard of, and everyone was all impressed with that. And nobody even likes Evan Rothberg.”

Grandpa sighed and peered down his nose at me.

I threw my head back. “Please don’t give me a lecture. Mom and Dad have already done that. I know, I know. These things cost a lot of money.”

He smirked. “They do, but that’s not what I was going to say.” He tousled my hair and then walked to my bed, where he sat on the edge and patted the spot next to him. “Daniel, sit.”

I sat beside him. “Okay, go ahead. Tell me that I’m caring about the wrong things like Mom and Dad have already done.”

“Should I even speak, or are you going to just have the whole conversation for both of us?”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Go ahead.”

He smiled. “When a child becomes Bar or Bat Mitzvahed, they’re showing that they are ready to take their place among the Jewish people. To accept responsibility and carry on our traditions.”

“I have a feeling that you probably gave the same speech to Mom quite a few times, because she said the same thing.”

He laughed. “Well, because it’s true. I don’t know when Bar Mitzvahs became about who you have instead of what it means, but you need to remember the reason for it.” He rubbed my back. “Do you know there have been times when Jews couldn’t show any of their identity at all? They used to sneak to do things like praying or observing holidays. There were even kids who risked everything just to have a Bar Mitzvah.”

I sighed. “Okay, now I definitely know that you gave that speech to Mom, because it’s the EXACT same thing that she said. Maybe it’s time to change the script a little?”

He laughed again and gave me a light punch on the arm. “Wise guy!” He rubbed his chin as he stared at me. “You know, I was going to give you something after your Bar Mitzvah, but maybe I’ll give it to you now. It might cheer you up a little.”

I perked up and arched my eyebrow. “What?”

“Something that’s been in our family for a long, long time. I tried to give it to your mother once, but she didn’t want the responsibility.”

“Responsibility? What is it?”

He reached inside his pants pocket and fished out a small, round, gold object. It was a little smaller than the top of a soda can.

I pointed to it. “What is that?”

He held it up in front of my face. “It’s a pocket watch.” The corner of his mouth twitched up. “And like I said, it’s been in our family for generations.”

“Oh… ” I stared at it for a moment. “Um, thank you.” I reached for it, but he pulled it back.

“You don’t seem that enthused by it.”

“Grandpa, I am. I, uh, love it. I’ve just never used one before.” I reached for it again, but he pushed my arm down.

Grandpa flipped the cover up and again showed it to me. “It’s a very special pocket watch. Your mother spoke to me about possibly giving it to you, and I thought it was a great idea. But it comes with a lot of responsibility.”

“Responsibility? Like what do you mean? Not getting it wet? Winding it up every day?”

He smirked. “No, I don’t mean that at all. It’s just that it’s a very special watch.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s so special about it?”

He held it up and smiled. “It’s a time machine.”

I groaned and winced. “Grandpa, seriously? That’s like one of Dad’s jokes. I get it. Watch. Time machine. Good one, Grandpa.”

Another small laugh. “No, that’s not what I meant. I — ”

“Dad!” Mom called from the other room. “We’re ready to go. Are you coming?”

He stared at me a moment, pressed the pocket watch into my hand, and closed my fist around it. “Here. Why don’t you hold this right now, so I don’t take it while doing errands with your mother. Put it somewhere safe, and when I get back, I’ll show you how to use it.”

I squeezed the watch. “Okay, Grandpa.”

He wagged his finger at me. “I mean it. Wait until I get back!”

“I said, okay.”

“Good boy.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you later.” He stood and walked out.

I shut the door behind him and examined the watch.

A special pocket watch that’s been in the family for generations?

Probably worth a lot of money. Not going to lie, I briefly wondered how much we’d be able to get for it, and if it was too late to get any Star Wars droids.

I flipped it over in my hands.

There was a dial in the center, under which read YEAR. Next to it was a small display square with the current year in it. Under the square was a small button.

“That’s weird.” I spun the dial, and instead of the time changing, it scrolled through years.

Through the 2000s…

1900s…

1800s…

I furrowed my brow. “What is this thing?”

I looked around the room to see if Mom or Grandpa were playing a trick on me. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, so I opened my door slightly and peered out. The house was quiet.

If this was a trick, they were doing a great job of disguising it.

I turned the pocket watch over again. Nothing seemed unusual about it. Well, except for that little box with the years in it. “All right, I’ll bite,” Before I could change my mind, I jammed the button down.

Instantly, I was surrounded by orange and red lights streaking by. It felt like I was hurtling through a tunnel, until suddenly, everything came crashing to a stop.

I was no longer in my house. Instead, I was in a small room, watching a kid around my age. He was wearing a kippah and black clothes. The room was packed, and he was surrounded by around thirty older men with long beards. It looked like they were praying.

“They’re coming!” a man yelled from the other side of the room.

We all turned to him.

He was standing by a window and looking out. “The Cossacks are coming!”

“Cossacks?” I muttered and thought back to my history classes, where Cossacks invaded Jewish towns for violence. “I’m in Russia?”

Suddenly, the door smashed open and around a dozen men barged in.

Screams echoed throughout. People fled in every direction.

Someone shoved into me, sending the pocket watch flying from my hands, and it went sliding across the floor.

I weaved my way through the mob and snatched it off the ground before diving behind a bench and flipping the pocket watch open. “C’mon, c’mon get me outta here!” The dial was jammed between two years, and I couldn’t tell which ones.

Before I could finish, the bench was yanked to the side.

“NO!” I pressed the button.

The orange and red lights shot out. My stomach churned.

The wind hit my face. The smell of the ocean invaded my senses.

My eyes fluttered open. I was on a ship, along with many other people, crowded by a railing. Before us was the Statue of Liberty.

Someone placed their hand on my shoulder.

I looked up to see a man with a beard smiling at me. “We’re in America now. Things will be different here. Better for Jews.”

I checked the watch again. The dial was still jammed between two numbers: 1920 and 1921. I forced it up and pressed the button again.

More lights.

I was on a city street. Cars were speeding by. A woman led me by the hand past a diner.

On the door was a sign:

NO DOGS OR JEWS ALLOWED.

I stared at it as we walked by. “What?”

Without even looking, I turned the dial and pressed the button.

After the lights whizzed by, I found myself sitting in a room.

Sitting in front of me was an older man. He looked familiar. He pointed to my hands. “That watch has been in our family for generations, Isaac.”

Isaac? “I’m not — ” I closed my mouth.

Wait a second…

I peered around the man to stare at the mirror. This face, I recognized. I had seen it in many pictures before. The Isaac he was talking to was my grandfather.

I was in his body!

The man in front of me had to be my great-grandfather. “You are the first in our family to freely have a Bar Mitzvah out in the open. No fear of persecution. It is a momentous occasion.” He smiled and closed my fist around the pocket watch, in the same way Grandpa had done earlier. “Remember, you are part of a chain of the Jewish people. Don’t be the link that breaks.”

I nodded but couldn’t speak. The words were trapped in my throat.

He walked out, and I looked down at the pocket watch in my hands.

The dial turned easily now, and I set it back to my year and pressed the button.

I was back in my room, on my bed.

Unfortunately, there was a very disapproving face staring down at me.

Grandpa was standing there with his arms crossed. “Didn’t I tell you not to touch the watch until I showed you how it worked?”

“Grandpa!” I rushed over and hugged him. “I’m sorry, I just — ”

He placed his hand under my chin and lifted my head until my eyes met his. “I said to wait because the watch isn’t a toy.”

I looked away. “I know. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that… ”

“I know.” The seriousness from his face left and a warm glow took its place. “Thankfully, there was no harm done. But now that you’ve seen what it can do, you need to be more careful in the future. The watch isn’t exactly a time machine like you think. With this, you slide into the body of someone who experienced history and take over for them for as long as you’re there.” He gave a slight nod. “Our family are sort of observers of history. We record it and document it. There are others like us, but not many. It is our duty to make sure this doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.” He stared into my eyes. “That could be very dangerous. So, you see, you really need to act responsibly.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Like I said before, it’s our family’s obligation to care for it.”

“How did this start, Grandpa? Who gave this to us? How did — ”

He held his hand up. “Those are stories for another day. For now, all you need to know is what a tremendous responsibility this is that I’m giving you. It’s not a toy or something for self-gain. It’s a huge undertaking.”

I hugged him again. “I understand, Grandpa! And I’ll be careful with it. I promise. This is the best Bar Mitzvah gift ever.”

He tousled my hair and took the watch from me. “Let me hold this until the ceremony is over. That way, you concentrate on your Bar Mitzvah and won’t get distracted by the watch. When it is over, you and I will sit together, and I’ll show you precisely how to use it.”

I nodded. “Okay, Grandpa.” I thought a moment. “Grandpa, you’ve never been tempted to use it for anything other than observing?”

He smiled. “Of course I’ve been tempted, but I’ve only let myself veer from our responsibility a couple of times for special occasions.”

My eyes widened. “What did you do?”

He winked at me. “More stories for another day. In the meantime, all you need to remember is, a Bar Mitzvah is not about the gifts or who appears or how big the party is. It’s about… ”

***

“Becoming part of the Jewish community. Preserving tradition. Not being the link that breaks the chain. This is what’s important. There will always be those who seek to destroy us, not wanting us to continue as a people, but I’m going to do my best to keep our traditions going forward and pass them on to the next generation,” I said to all the guests. The same words that Grandpa had told me, and his father had told him, and who knows how many generations before that had told their children.

Everyone stood and applauded, and I smiled out at Mom, Dad, and Grandpa.

I ran to my seat between Mom and Grandpa. My family all hugged me.

“So proud of you!” Mom and Dad said, in unison.

Grandpa squeezed me tight.

I hugged him back. “You were right, Grandpa. I didn’t need anything else. I’m just happy everyone was with me.”

He kissed my cheek. “You’re a good boy, Daniel.”

DJ Mitzvah Mel came out onstage.

He cleared his throat and looked out at the sea of people in the hall. “Thank you. But before we finish, we do have one more speech. A special guest who just wanted to say a few words.”

My brow furrowed. I was supposed to have been the last speech. I turned to Mom. “Who else is speaking?”

Mom smiled at me. “It wasn’t me.” She motioned to Grandpa. “He has a surprise for you.”

A tall, thin man, with a short, black beard walked out. He was dressed in a black suit. He looked out, removed his stovepipe hat, and placed it in front of him on the dais before leaning forward. “A half score and three years ago, Daniel Lehrman was born… ”

Everyone laughed.

I leaned over and whispered to Grandpa. “You got a Lincoln impersonator for my Bar Mitzvah?”

Grandpa looked into my eyes and smiled. “Impersonator?”

The realization of his words hit me. “You mean… ” I pointed to Lincoln. “He’s — ”

Grandpa nodded.

My jaw dropped. “Grandpa, whatever happened to only using the watch for observing?”

He gave a sheepish grin. “Well, I did say I’ve made exceptions for special occasions, and since when isn’t my grandson’s Bar Mitzvah a special occasion?” He shrugged. “And besides, Lincoln owed me a favor.”

I turned back to Lincoln and watched him finish giving his speech, but all I could think was, This is the best Bar Mitzvah ever!