Extreme Change

by Gary Beck

  Kiesha was exuberant. "So we’re going to be living in the east village. That’s cool."

  Beth smiled, "That’s where Peter and I lived, until the fire burned us out. I didn’t really get a chance to get to know the neighborhood. Tompkins Square Park is nearby, and it has a nice playground. There are a few inexpensive restaurants with good food, but most of the stores and restaurants are very expensive."

  "I thought that’s where people moved to get away from high prices," Kiesha said.

  Peter laughed. "Maybe they did a long time ago, but right now it’s yuppie heaven and priced accordingly."

  Kiesha grinned, "You mean we’re going to be yuppies?"

  Peter grinned back, "Not right away."

  It was one of those wondrous New York City winter days that occasionally punctuated the dreary weather pattern. The sun was shining palely. There were no clouds and the sky was an electric blue, seldom seen since global warming and greenhouse effect had despoiled the atmosphere. The temperature was 40 degrees, with the promise of reaching a balmy 45, and the air was almost non-toxic. The mayor was probably hulking in his fuehrer bunker, surveying his disobedient fiefdom, wondering why he couldn’t have black shirts to enforce his orders. But the group was outdoors, enjoying the exhilaration of escaping the confines of the welfare hotel. The children frisked and gamboled, eliciting frequent admonitions from the adults to watch where they were going, not go in the street, not shout so loudly, not stare at people, not touch the store windows, not handle the vegetables at the Eden market near 23rd Street, not, not, not, but still have a good time.

  With the peculiar resiliency of youth, despite the many restrictions on their behavior, the children enjoyed themselves. When Beth, Kiesha and Miss Lily paused to admire the outdoor display of rows of colorful vegetables, Pablo yelled loudly, "Don’t touch the vegetables," and the rest of the children exuberantly echoed him, "Don’t touch the vegetables. Don’t touch the vegetables."

  Kiesha turned to Miss Lily, "Is it worth it to tell them we were only looking?"

  "Chile, don’t waste a moment on it. They’re havin too much fun to listen."

  Beth nodded, "Maybe we should sell some of them, then the rest might be manageable." The three women broke into girlish giggles that quickly drew the attention of the children.

  "What’s so funny, Mom?" Jennifer asked.

  Beth tried to look stern, "We were just considering selling some of you kids."

  Jennifer clapped her hands, "Good-o. Sell Andy." "What about the rest of the boys?" "You can sell all of them, except Pablo."

  "What about the girls?"

  "No way."

  They waited for the light at the corner of 23rd Street and Hector noticed a thrift shop just a few doors away. They went and peered in the window and it didn’t look cheap. Beth thought there was something perverse about a thrift shop aspiring to be upscale when it was peddling used merchandise. She concluded the consumer mentality was definitely warped when shoppers would rather buy cast-off designer clothing, rather than get new, less expensive garments. She didn’t know that the irony was that many of the thrift shops put designer labels on cheaper clothing to fool the status-hungry acquirers, who shelled out their bucks for used fakes. But what’s in a name? They saw another thrift shop between 23rd and 22nd Streets that also looked expensive. Beth wondered how many thrift shops on the expensive east side fostered the pretensions to a costly wardrobe, and charged accordingly. She noted their locations for a visit, without much expectation that the group would be able to afford inflated prices.

  They passed other appealing stores that were mostly beyond their price range, though an organic food market was very tempting. They continued down Third Avenue, enjoying the beautiful day and the feeling of release that happened every time they left the hotel. For the first time in her life, Beth had an inkling of what it might be like to be in prison. Although the hotel was a lot more benevolent than any prison, still the feeling of confinement and the threat of violence almost seemed institutional.

  Kiesha gently nudged her, "I don’t know what you’re thinking about, missy, but come back to us. It’s too nice a day to waste it brooding."

  Beth shrugged off her misgivings. "I was just letting foolish things catch up to me."

  Kiesha slipped her arm around her affectionately, "I know what you mean. I get that way myself, sometimes."

  Miss Lily stopped in front of a florist shop that had a wonderful display and started pointing out various flowers and shrubs to the children. It took a moment for Beth and Kiesha to notice that they had kept on walking and the group wasn’t with them. They turned and saw that everything was all right and Kiesha said, "We haven’t talked about my living with Hector. What do you think? Am I making a mistake?"

  "Hector’s a really good man. He cares for you and respects you. It’s hard to do much better than that."

  "I hear you. I guess I’m worried that I’m doing it so I won’t be alone."

  "That’s as good a reason as any for living with a man."

  "What about the kids? I haven’t told them anything yet. What do I tell them?"

  "You say you’ll be living together for a while. After what they’ve been through lately, they shouldn’t have any trouble with that. If things don’t work out after a while, you’ll make other arrangements."

  "You make it sound so simple."

  "Wouldn’t that be a nice change?"

  Peter startled them out of their conversation by calling them, "Hey Kiesha, why don’t you walk with Hector and the rest of us’ll keep an eye on the kids. I know Valentine’s Day is over, but I feel like playing cupid."

  She looked at Beth, "Is it all right?"

  "Sure. Enjoy yourselves. Tomorrow it’s back to work and school." The group continued south, with Kiesha and Hector bringing up the rear.

  They stopped at 15th Street and Peter showed the children the Con Edison building. "That’s the place that sells gas and electricity to the whole city."

  "Do they make it there?" Pablo asked.

  "No. They have power stations with generators all over the city." Some of the other children asked him to explain electricity, which he managed to do, albeit shakily. He bogged down completely at explaining a utility. "It’s a business that won’t let anyone else compete with it, because it convinces the government that it’s too important to let anyone else do it."

  "That’s not fair, is it, Daddy?" Jennifer asked.

  "No, honey. It isn’t."

  Miss Lily rescued him by announcing that they were going to stop somewhere and get drinks.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  They stopped at a deli on 14th Street and bought cokes for the kids and coffee for the adults. They stood outside on the sidewalk drinking their beverages, and Beth thought about how nice it would be if they could afford to go to a café or restaurant and sit and order for all of them.

  She shook off the impractical fantasy and hugged Peter, who looked at her in surprise, "What’s that for?"

  "Because you’re a good man and you try your best for us."

  "I wish I could do more. Sometimes I have a hard time doing what has to be done. I feel really bad about freaking out after the fire."

  "Don’t be ridiculous. You got us out safely and we’ve managed ever since."

  "I wasn’t much help at the EAU. I wimped out."

  "No you didn’t. You were distracted for a while, but not for long. We wouldn’t have gotten to the hotel without you, and we’d never have gotten apartments for our friends. I’m proud of you."

  "Thanks, sweetheart. That makes me feel better."

  Miss Lily signaled that they were ready and the group continued east on 14th Street. The area was in a gentrification transition. A New York University dormitory was nearing completion just off Third Avenue. As they walked on 14th Street they saw new shops and restaurants, side by side with seedier relics from poorer times. Many of the former tenements were being renovated, with the commensurate raise in rentals driving o
ut former tenants. Gentrification was an inevitable occurrence in a dynamically growing city, but it’s always traumatic for the dispossessed and for the angry people left behind to hate their richer new neighbors. The adults noted the eye and ear hospital on the corner of Second Avenue for possible future need. They came to a YMHA that was of real interest to them for the children and Peter went in and got some of their brochures. The further east they went, the less upscale were the stores, with just a few exceptions. A middle-income housing complex, Stuyvesant Town, that looked unnaturally prosperous for the area, started at First Avenue, on the north side of 14th Street, and ran as far east as they could see.

  They turned onto Avenue B and the economic contrasts were more dramatic. Renovated tenements were ringed by decaying buildings, with shabby looking Hispanic tenants hanging out in front. The mixed-race group of adults and children drew curious stares, especially from the local residents. Showers, shaves, and changes of clothing had made the mini-rainbow coalition look a lot more presentable than when they were sleeping on the floor of the E.A.U. It was hard to tell where they fit in on the New York City social status chart. Kiesha pointed out a school on east 12th Street, on the other side of Avenue A, and Beth made a note to check it out. 11th Street was tree lined, which promised pleasant greenery in the spring. Less than half of the block had been renovated, so it was obvious that there was a lot of construction in their future. The general appearance of the block wasn’t bad and their building to be was a passable, if slightly peeling grey, standard lower east side immigrant tenement.

  They didn’t have keys to the building, so they just explained to the children that they would all be moving there in a few days. The children were relieved to learn that they would still be living together, and they clamored to see the new apartments, reluctantly accepting the ‘we don’t have keys yet’ explanation. The winter sun had sunk low in the sky, below the building line and it was starting to get dark. The temperature was dropping, and the afternoon no longer seemed balmy, so the adults shepherded their little flock homewards. They walked across 11th Street to Third Avenue and turned uptown.

  They passed several pizza places and each time the children chorused, "Pizza. Pizza. We’re hungry. We’re hungry." The adults finally gave in and they went into the next one they came to. The children rushed to the counter and almost overwhelmed the sullen Arab counterman with their demands. The adults succumbed to temptation and after surly service, they each consumed a slice of barely eatable, oily pizza. They returned to the hotel without any further stops, glad to get out of the cold.

  Instead of being tired from the long day’s excursion, the children were revved up. Once they got to their floor, they started a wild chase game up and down the stairs. They were talking loudly and teasing each other, but no neighbors complained, so the adults just let them run loose and enjoy themselves for a while. The adults monitored the children from the hallway to make sure they didn’t get into trouble.

  A sudden silence, followed by angry yelling and cursing and footsteps pounding down the stairs, alerted the adults that something was wrong. They rushed to the stairs where they saw their children hotly pursued by the savage children from the upper floor. Hector yelled angrily and the savages halted, but they weren’t intimidated. It was unsettling to see six and seven-year olds brandishing sticks, bottles and belts, to use on other youngsters. Hector told them to get back upstairs where they belonged and they reluctantly left, but not without muttering threats and curses.

  Miss Lily heaved a sigh of relief, "Those little animals are out of control. I thank God that we’re gettin out of here, before they hurt our kids."

  "It can’t be soon enough for me," Kiesha murmured.

  Pablo told Hector that he, Raheen and Jamal weren’t afraid to fight the boy’s upstairs.

  Hector didn’t often raise his voice to his son, but this time he was emphatic, "You are not to go near those kids, and I want you to make sure that Raheen and Jamal stay away from them."

  "But Popi, they’re always cursing us and throwing things at us. They call us punks."

  "I don’t care what they call you. I just don’t want you to get hurt. They’re bad kids and nobody teaches them to behave right, so they’re meaner than kids their age should be. They don’t fight like little kids. They use sticks and bottles. I want you to promise me that you’ll run away if they bother you."

  "Aw, Popi."

  "Promise me."

  "All right. I promise."

  "And I want you to keep the rest of our kids away from them."

  "Yes, Popi."

  "That’s a good boy. I’m proud of you. So is your Momi."

  "Does she watch us?"

  "I think she sees us. That’s why we always have to be good, so she’ll be proud of us."

  Pablo hugged him hard. "I love you, Popi."

  "I love you, Pablocito."

  It took a while for the adults to calm the children after their narrow escape from the marauders. Then they all went to their rooms and relaxed before dinner. Peter started reading stories to Jennifer and Andy and Beth went to Miss Lily’s room, to help her prepare dinner. The women knew that everyone was tired, so they kept the menu simple and just heated packaged macaroni and cheese. Beth cut up lettuce and tomatoes for a salad. The adults weren’t particularly hungry, but the children gobbled their food like voracious wolf cubs and asked for seconds, that Miss Lily wisely had ready. Peter brought out a special treat, small chocolate hearts that he bought at a chain drug store’s post Valentine’s sale on their way back to the hotel. The bright red foil-wrapped goodies made the youngsters eyes sparkle. Sugar craving sent their fingers racing to get at the candy. They gnawed away like beavers, nursing the last tasty sliver, then looked entreatingly at Peter, hoping for more. He pretended to have none left, then, to their delight, produced one more piece each. The satisfied children went to play in Kiesha’s room in a mild chocolate haze of contentment.

  The adults gathered in the hall and discussed plans to move on Monday evening, once Peter got the keys to the new apartments. Beth assured Peter that she could manage to move their meager belongings without him, so he didn’t have to come back uptown. She suggested that he go to their old apartment and bring some of their things from there, staying in touch by cell phone, so he would know when they were leaving the hotel.

  Beth was appalled by how little they owned and wasn’t consoled when Peter whispered, "The less we have, the easier it’ll be to move next time."

  "Don’t you think this new apartment will work out?"

  "Who knows? How many times have we moved since college?"

  "Four or five. It would be nice to stay in one place for a while."

  "That’s for sure. I’m tired of our being urban migrants, but it hasn’t been our fault. I’ve tried my best to build a stable way of life for us."

  "I know you have, Peter. Maybe this time things will work out."

  They turned back to the others just in time to hear Kiesha tell Miss Lily that someday she’d like an elegant matched luggage set, just as a change from plastic garbage bags and shopping bags.

  Miss Lily was her usual down to earth self. "Chile, it’s easy for us to want things. That’s why there’s so much trouble in the world. Everyone who’s got stuff wants more, and no one’s ever satisfied with what they got. Take you, for example. You’re smart, you’re goin to school for a good career and you’ve got two fine kids. You maybe even found yourself a good man," she said teasingly. "So why you be dreamin’ about luggage?"

  Kiesha was slightly embarrassed and reassured Miss Lily that she didn’t really want a lot of things, but she didn’t like people looking at her like she was a welfare case. She reminded her that people had become used to seeing homeless families trudging through the city, lugging their belongings in black plastic garbage bags and she didn’t want to look like that.

  They arranged to help each other pack, and Beth said that after she finished her things she would help Miss Lily. Kiesha
would be home from school well before Hector came home from work, so she could help him. After careful evaluation of everyone’s belongings, they estimated that they would need two taxi trips each per family to move everything. Peter did some quick arithmetic and calculated that for the same amount of money, possibly just a little more, they could rent a van and move everything in one trip. Hector went down to the lobby and asked the Mister Singh clone to borrow a yellow pages phone book. The group called several van rental companies, but they all required a credit card, or a large cash deposit. None of the group had a credit card and they didn’t have $500 for a deposit, so they assumed it was back to the taxi plan.

  Then Peter came up with a clever idea. He remembered reading ads in the Village Voice for private van rentals by the hour. He went downstairs, returned the yellow pages to Mister Singh and went out to look for free newspaper boxes nearby. The first few he tried were empty, then he found a tattered copy that had been left because most of the pages were torn. This didn’t matter to him, because the ads he was looking for were in the back section of the paper. He went back to the hotel and started calling movers. He got machine after machine until he finally reached a human. Leon wanted $25 per hour with a two-hour minimum. Roy figured they could easily move everything in two hours, so he told Leon he would phone and confirm the move for Monday evening, by 6:30 p.m., assuming he would have the keys by then.

  Leon was so amenable that Peter wondered if he was reliable and kept asking him if he was sure he’d be available, until Leon said, "Don’t sweat it, man. Just call and I’ll be there."

  Peter expressed his misgivings to the group, but Hector wasn’t concerned. "If he doesn’t show we’ll go by taxi. We can manage that." They reviewed the details of the move and decided that once they knew Leon was on his way, they would bring everything downstairs and get out of the hotel quickly. If they had to use taxis, they would take as much as they could fit on the first trip. Miss Lily would stay at the new apartment with all the children, while the others went back to the hotel for the rest of their things. They all shared the growing feeling of excitement that they would be out of the homeless system by tomorrow night. Before they finished reviewing their plans, several more movers phoned, but Leon was the cheapest. By the time the children were ready for bed, the adults were bubbling with anticipation to get away from the hotel and the menace they had been living with. The fatigue of the day finally caught up to the children and they went to bed with nary a protest.