The Sukkah Sky

Tamar wants one straight stripe. The sukkah has other plans.

On the morning before Sukkot, Tamar and Abba carried the sukkah walls into the garden. “Can I paint the inside?” asked Tamar. “One blue stripe, all the way round.” She held her roller like a ruler. “Straight and steady.”

Abba fastened the frame. Tamar held each wall while he made it snug. Her little cousin Rafi arrived carrying the empty paint tray with both hands. Mango followed the tray. At last, three walls stood. The sky was still the roof. “Straight and steady,” said Tamar.

Tamar rolled along, along, along. A blue stripe crossed the first wall. Rafi watched with both hands behind his back. Mango did not. His tail wagged once. SPLAT!

Mango trotted round the corner with a blue tail. Swish, swish, swish went his tail. Tamar chased him with the rag. Rafi chased Tamar because Tamar was chasing Mango. When they stopped, three blue swooshes swept along the wall. “Not straight,” said Tamar. “Not steady.”

Rafi brought gold paper stars for the wall. Tamar put paste on the first one. WHOOSH! A gust came through the open roof and lifted the whole pile. Stars whirled round the sukkah. Some stuck to the wet paint. One landed on Mango’s nose. “Not straight. Not steady.”

Abba laid leafy branches across the open roof. Shake, shake, shake. Down came six leaves. They stuck to the wet wall. Tamar peeled them off one by one. Six leaf shapes stayed behind. “Not straight. Not steady.”

Rafi leaned close to inspect a leaf print. His hand went into the tray. His hand went onto the wall. Five blue fingers waved above the stripe. Rafi froze. Tamar looked at his hand. She looked at the wall.

Tamar dipped the small brush. She gave the blue swooshes long comet tails. She painted trunks under the leaf prints. Around Rafi’s handprint, she dabbed a burst of stars. Rafi added one careful dot. “Not straight,” said Tamar. “Keep going.”

After sunset, the family brought supper into the sukkah. Bowls filled the table. Paper fruit swung from the branches. Mango sat beneath his painted comet, his tail still blue at the tip. The lantern glowed. Then the wind came back, gently this time. Something moved across Tamar’s sky …

Leaf shadows danced between the comets. Through the roof, the first star appeared. Then the moon rose over the painted trees. “Ready?” asked Abba. Tamar looked all the way round. “Ready,” said Tamar. “Keep the wobbles.”

Abba raised his cup. Mango wagged. Swish! His blue tail swept across a chair. SPLAT. “One more comet,” said Tamar.