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Advance Praise
“Jerry’s Vegan Women takes you on a roller coaster ride of emotions, from laughter and excitement to disdain and heartbreak for what might have been. It’s an irreverent and fun look at the intersection of dietary and relationship ethics. You won’t want to put it down.”
— Paul Shapiro, Vice President of Farm Animal Protection, The Humane Society of the United States
“Jerry’s Vegan Women is an absorbing collection of stories about a thoughtful guy whose life is changed through his relationships with vegan women. Through Shaberman’s storytelling, the reader empathizes with Jerry and his compassion for our planet’s amazing animal kingdom.”
— Carole Hamlin, Board Member, Vegetarian Resource Group
“You don’t have to be hardcore vegan to enjoy and appreciate the engaging — and often insightful — stories of Ben Shaberman. He writes with flair, humor, and compassion about characters, relationships, and situations that have a universal appeal, even to the steak-and-potatoes reader.”
— Roland Goity, Editor, WIPs: Works (of Fiction) in Progress Literary Journal
“The most engaging aspect of Ben Shaberman’s writing is his distinctive voice. Typically lighthearted, often amusing, Ben’s voice grabs you by the hand and pulls you along for an entertaining ride.”
— Tiffany Hauck, Editor, Split Infinitive Literary Journal
Jerry’s
Vegan Women
Ben Shaberman
Apprentice House
Loyola University Maryland
Baltimore, Maryland
Copyright © 2015 by Ben Shaberman
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission from the publisher (except by reviewers who may quote brief passages).
First Edition
Printed in the United States of America
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-62720-079-0
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-62720-080-6
Design: Sara Killough & Kelley Murphy
Cover Art: Maria Gruzynski
Cover Model: Amanda Jones
Published by Apprentice House
Apprentice House
Loyola University Maryland
4501 N. Charles Street
Baltimore, MD 21210
410.617.5265 • 410.617.2198 (fax)
www.ApprenticeHouse.com [email protected]
For Happy, Chutzpah, and Olive
Contents
Gail 1
Sarah 9
Suzy 23
Missy 35
Mandi 49
Betty 53
Karen 61
Francesca 69
Joanie 83
Josie 105
About the Author 125
Acknowledgements 127
Gail
“Jerome, Jerome, Jerome,” Gail pleaded. “You have to challenge him to a rematch. You just lost your queen too early. It was a stupid mistake. Otherwise, you would have beaten him again. I know it!”
“I dunno,” Jerry replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Mr. Feldman said I didn’t have a chance, if the room was quiet. And it was. You were there. It’s not like indoor recess where he’s shouting at someone every two minutes to stop horsing around.”
“You gotta go for two out of three. Even if you lose, you’re eleven! But if you win — that would be so cool. Beating the teacher!”
“Maybe, I dunno. He really smeared me. Like, in five moves.”
Gail shook her head, got up from the barstool, and walked over to the jukebox to play her proverbial “Rockin’ Robin,” “Joy to the World,” and “Let It Be.” That was her ritual every time she came to Irv’s Sandwich Shop. If she happened to have an extra quarter on a given day, she’d play the medley a second time. If someone else’s songs had queued up ahead of hers, she’d anxiously watch the jukebox when one of their tunes was ending, trying to will one of hers to play next.
Gail and Jerry had been classmates for the last three years, but it wasn’t until the sixth grade that they began to bond. Maybe it was their budding hormones. Maybe it was because they were the only two kids in Mr. Feldman’s class who were selected to tutor kids in the lower grades. Or maybe it was because they began to run into each other at Irv’s after school and both loved to devour heaping plates of crinkle-cut French fries smothered in salt and ketchup.
For Jerry in particular, the scales began to tip when she started calling him Jerome. Until she came along, he couldn’t stand his formal name. Everyone, including his teachers, knew not to call him Jerome, because if they did, he’d lash out. But coming from Gail, it was an expression of affection, and despite his adolescent self-absorption and indifference, he picked up on it.
Their relationship was never consummated physically — they never exchanged even a single kiss nor did they ever talk about going steady — but that might have been why it endured throughout the entire sixth grade.
Gail was a loyal friend to Jerry. She could often be found on the sidelines of his pick-up football games during recess. When he stayed home from school because of one of his many his asthma attacks, she made sure he was brought up to date the next day on whatever lessons he missed. And she witnessed those two agonizing chess games with Mr. Feldman, when Jerry went from feeling like the next Bobby Fischer after his victory in game one to giving up chess entirely after getting creamed in the rematch. Gail didn’t cling. She was just present and supportive.
Her parents were both from Italy, which gave her classically Italian features — olive skin, dark auburn hair that ran nearly to her waist, brown eyes, and a welcoming, radiant smile. She was a small girl, and hadn’t started filling out the way many girls begin to do at eleven.
Gail
