I took her by the hand and led her to the kitchen table. “Let’s sit down a minute. I’m not feeling that great.”
One more time she reached for my hard-on. “I know I can make you feel better.”
“You can only help by taking your hand off of my cock,” I said. “Give me a few minutes to figure things out. I gotta figure out what to do next.”
She pulled her robe around her tightly, and she sat down at the kitchen table opposite me. I took out a cigarette and offered her one. She took it and I gave her a light. She took a drag and then made a funny face. “I don’t know how you smoke these cheap cigarettes.”
I dragged some smoke through my nostrils. “I like them. And besides”—I picked up the pack and showed her the picture on the front—“I like the horse.”
We both laughed. It helped.
“What do you want to do?” she asked. “Did your folks leave any money around the house for you?”
“My father left me a fiver for the weekend,” I said. “He left his briefcase too, but Uncle Harry told me to give it to him and he took it home.”
“What was in it?” she asked.
“Money and betting slips,” I answered.
She stared at me. She was a pretty clever girl. She was nineteen years old, two years older than me. She was a sophomore at Hunter Business College and I was just in my senior year in high school. She had always been a horny little bitch from the day we moved in. Last year she had lifted her skirt almost over her panties when I was walking behind her up the staircase. She turned around on the step above me and smiled down at me. “You like that black curly pussy?”
I nearly fell down. I couldn’t believe what she had said. That was last year and I was only sixteen and the only thing I had ever done was jerk off all the time.
“You’re a big boy for your age,” she said. “I have to get together with you.” She paused and turned around to face me fully. “I wonder if everything you have is big,” she said as she put her hand on my fly. She laughed and turned to go up the stairs. “I think you’ve really got a big one, Jerry. When can we start working it out?”
I was dumbfounded. I stared at her. “How did you know my name?”
“My name is Kitty,” she said, ignoring my question. “Pretty soon you’ll find out I know about everything that goes on in this place. My father is the owner.”
She lived a story below me, and before I could even say anything more, she went inside her apartment. A second later the door to her apartment opened and she stuck her head out. “Don’t forget to get yourself some rubbers,” she whispered into the hall. “I’m not planning on getting knocked up.”
Then she closed the door again and I went upstairs. It wasn’t long before I learned that her father had bought the apartment house only about a month before we moved in. The next thing I learned was that her father was away at work all day in his real estate office. Two afternoons later Kitty called me to come down to her apartment and she screwed my brains out.
I kept on dragging on my cigarette and looking at her. It was hard to believe that I had been screwing her for a year. Suddenly I came back to reality. I really couldn’t believe either that I had no parents. They were gone. I had no idea what I was going to do. My world had disappeared.
“What are you thinking?” Kitty asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Everything has changed. I’ve gotta get my parents’ clothes out for the funeral tomorrow. I want to put them out on their bed. Then I have to get my own suit out.”
“I’ll help you,” Kitty said. “Don’t worry.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I guess we better get started.”
I felt peculiar when I stepped into my parents’ room. The choking in my throat began again. I began to feel a little dizzy. Kitty held my arm tightly. “It’s all right,” she said quietly. “It’s all right. Everything will be okay in time. Why don’t you let me get your mom’s clothes out for you.”
I looked at her. She made me feel better. “Thank you,” I said. I pointed at the closet near the dresser. “My mother’s clothes are in there.” I moved over to the other closet on the other side of the dresser. “I’ll get my dad’s clothes out of this one.”
She nodded and moved to my mom’s closet. I decided to take out my father’s good holiday suit. He always wore it for Rosh Hashanah and for Yizkor at the synagogue. I placed it carefully on a good hanger. Then I looked up on the top shelf, where he kept his hats. I also saw a cardboard shoe box. I took it down thinking that it was his patent leather dress shoes. I was wrong. The box was stuffed with rolls of bills. A roll of fivers, then a roll of tens, then twenties and a few hundreds on the bottom of the box. I looked up at Kitty, who had come over to see what I was doing. We were both speechless.
“Where did your father get that kind of money?” she asked, her mouth half-open.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I know my father has worked for Uncle Harry for a long time. But he was only a runner picking up bets. Uncle Harry is the big-shot bookie. He handled all the connections with Frank Ericson, who is the boss.”
“How much money is there?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered, trying to figure out where my dad got this money. “Let’s check it out.” We split the rolls of bills and counted them.
After we had finished counting, I looked over at Kitty. “How much?”
“I’ve counted twenty-four hundred,” she answered. “How much have you got?”
“I’ve got three thousand,” I said.
“What are you going to do with the money?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll turn it over to Uncle Harry to keep for me.”
“Don’t be a schmuck,” she said. “He’ll only tell you that it was his money that your father held out from him.”
“My father wouldn’t do anything like that,” I answered indignantly.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” she snapped. “It’s money isn’t it? And I bet your father would want you to have it. If you give it to your Uncle Harry, you’ll have to fight for it. He’s a bookie and my father has told me all about bookies. They keep every dollar that they can get their hands on. You’ll never see a cent of it if you give it to your uncle.”
“What should I do, then?” I asked.
“Put it in the bank,” she said.
“I can’t do it,” I said. “I’m only seventeen. I’m not old enough without one of my parents with me. I’m fucked. I’ll have to give it to my uncle.”
“Wait a minute,” she said. “I’ll put it in a safety-deposit box at my bank. After you turn eighteen, I’ll take the money out of the box for you and you can open your own account.”
“I won’t have any time tomorrow to help you. I’ll be busy all day with the funeral. My uncle will be here at six-fifteen in the morning.”
“I’ll hold it for you,” she said as she watched me. “That is, if you trust me.”
I lit another cigarette and stared down at the money.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said. “It’ll be like sticking it in my pussy and whenever you want to make a withdrawal you’ll know what to do.”
Kitty had only one thing on her mind. “You’re crazy,” I said.
She leaned across the bed toward me. “The only thing I’m crazy about is your cock, and every time you stick it in me, it’s like making a deposit in the bank.”
“That’s a romantic thought,” I said sarcastically.
“There’s nothing romantic about money or fucking, Jerry.” She grinned and raised her hand. There was a Ramses between her fingers. “Sure you don’t want to make a deposit right now?”
“Damn!” I said. “My parents haven’t even been buried yet and all you want is—”
She interrupted me. “I’m sorry, but they are dead now, and nothing that anyone can do will bring them back. They can be buried a week, or a month, or a year from now and they will still be dead. But you’re not dead. You�
��re alive and you have to keep on living. You’re a man now. You have to start thinking about your own life, not theirs.”
I lay back on the bed. It was all crazy. I was getting dizzy from the accident, the money, and Kitty. I took a deep breath and sat up. I took her hand and led her from my parents’ room to mine. Quickly, I opened my fly and my prick sprung out like a javelin. She dropped to her knees and covered my prick with her mouth.
3
The coroner’s assistant took us downstairs in the morgue. He led Uncle Harry and myself into a room that held corpses. He opened the door of the refrigerated case, and pulled a body covered in a sheet out and pulled the sheet down so I could see the face. “Is this your father?” he said without expression.
I could hardly answer him. I was so nauseous. I just nodded.
He then opened the door of the next refrigerated case. He pulled the sheet down. “Is this your mother?”
I nodded and then threw up. The coroner was experienced—he held a pail under my mouth before I could let it go. Then he gently placed his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll get you some smelling salts,” he said softly.
I shook my head. “I’ll be all right,” I said. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I never saw a dead person before. And it’s my mother and father.” I couldn’t help it. I started sobbing again.
The coroner was a very kind man. He just patted my shoulders until I felt better. “Come with me into the office,” he said. “You’ll need to sign the rest of the forms so the mortuary can take your parents.”
I got to his office and I suddenly realized that Uncle Harry hadn’t come downstairs with me. “Where is my uncle?” I asked the coroner.
“Your uncle wasn’t feeling too well,” he answered. “We had him lie down on the couch upstairs, but he’ll be down with us in a few minutes.” He then picked up the telephone on his desk. “Jenny,” he said. “Bring down the package of the Cooper things. Also check on Mr. Cooper and see if he feels like coming downstairs.”
Jenny was a large black lady. As she walked in the door she was carrying a square cardboard box in front of her. Uncle Harry was right behind her. He still looked a little pale. Jenny walked behind the desk and placed the box on it. She then took a pencil from her thick black hair and opened her steno pad.
The coroner gestured to Uncle Harry to sit in the chair next to me. Uncle Harry was sweating and he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his brow.
The coroner opened the lid of the box. He looked at me. “These are your parents’ belongings that were found by the police at the scene of the accident.”
I looked at him silently.
“Yes, sir, we understand.” Uncle Harry spoke for me.
Quickly he placed the contents of the box onto the top of his desk. “Jenny will give you a typewritten list of the contents in the box. Will you please let me know if there is anything that you remember of your parents’ belongings that is not here?”
I looked down at the desk. I saw the jewelry, Mother’s small diamond engagement ring, her gold wedding band, and a small thin gold necklace. I saw my father’s large silver pocket watch and the diamond pinkie ring that he always flashed on his right hand. Then there was his wallet with his driver’s license and some other papers that were still damp.
“Is there anything that you can remember they might have had?” the coroner asked.
“The only thing that I can think of is my mother’s pocketbook,” I said.
The coroner nodded and spoke to Jenny. “Make a note of that.”
“We have a valise that is still very wet,” Jenny said. “It was locked and we were not allowed to open it.”
“That will be given to you when you are ready to leave,” the coroner said.
“My brother always carried a couple of hundred bucks with him,” Uncle Harry said.
The coroner looked up at him. “Nobody turned in any money. We went through all the pockets in his clothes and we found only a few ones and some coin change.”
“I don’t understand. He always had a couple of hundred hidden. You know, like pin money,” Uncle Harry said.
“When accidents happen, no one can understand what happens,” the coroner said. He opened a folder and took out several forms. “Now, all you have to do is sign these releases and we can turn everything over to you.” He looked at Uncle Harry.
“There’s one more thing,” Jenny said. “A Mr. Kaplan is waiting to pick up the bodies.”
“Is this what you would like, Mr. Cooper?”
Uncle Harry nodded. “Yes, he’ll take them back to Queens.”
Jenny then left the office. “All right,” the coroner said. “Now both of you will need to sign these papers and everything will be in order.” He looked down at me. “I’m sorry, Jerry,” he said. “But, believe me, in time, everything will be okay.”
We signed the papers and I shook his hand as I stood up to leave. We took everything from the cardboard box and the valise and the clothes my parents had been wearing and put them in Uncle Harry’s Buick.
4
Aunt Lila must have stayed up all night calling the relatives. There were more than twenty men and women that came to the funeral and then to my apartment. Aunt Lila had also fixed the apartment for sitting shivah. She had wooden boxes for everyone to sit on and she had covered all of the mirrors and pictures. On the kitchen table she had placed several baskets of fruit and glass bowls filled with walnuts. She took charge of everything once we arrived home. I had to wear my yarmulke, but she told me it was okay if I took off my jacket. One of my other uncles, Uncle Morris, was kind of a rabbi, and he stood up and said kaddish for me. I couldn’t help it—I started crying again.
Uncle Harry put his arm against my shoulder. “Let it go, Jerry,” he said. “You’re carrying a big burden.”
Uncle Morris looked at him. “He’s still a kid. It would be okay if he went and lay down on his own bed for a while.”
“I’ll be all right.” I sniffed.
“No,” Aunt Lila said. “You go lie down right now. I’ll go turn the bed down for you.”
Kitty had been at the funeral with us, and she also had come home with us to the apartment. She turned to Aunt Lila. “I’ll help you.”
I followed them into my bedroom and stretched out as soon as they had turned down the sheets. I turned and looked at Aunt Lila. “Thanks for your help, Aunt Lila.”
“You try to sleep,” Aunt Lila said, and turned to Kitty. “Here’s two aspirin I have for him. Get him a glass of water and give it to him. I have to go back to the other room. I forgot to give the bottle of schnapps and Manischewitz to the guests.”
She left the room and Kitty leaned over to kiss me. “I’ll get the water for you in a minute. I just wanted to tell you that I put your money into the safety-deposit box already.”
“Okay,” I said. The money, for the moment, didn’t bother me.
“I’ll come up tonight and see you so you won’t have to be alone. I’ll really take care of you, Jerry. You don’t have to worry,” she said, and went to get the water for the aspirin, but I was out before she made it back.
* * *
It was almost dark when I awakened. I turned the lamp on beside my bed and sat up. Aunt Lila came into my bedroom. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” I said, standing up, “Is everybody still here?”
“No,” she answered. “It was late and they all had a long drive ahead of them, so they left. Uncle Harry and I and your girlfriend Kitty and her father are the only ones here now. Her father seems to be a nice man. He wanted to come by and just give his sympathy. He said he liked your parents.”
“I didn’t know he even knew my parents very well.” I turned to walk to the bathroom. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
She saw the two aspirin tablets on my bedside table with the glass of water. “Take the aspirin now,” she said.
I didn’t argue. I swallowed the aspirin and
went to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror over the sink. I looked lousy. Even my clothing looked wrinkled and uncomfortable. Quickly I got out of my clothes and stepped into the bathtub and pulled the shower curtain closed. I turned on the shower. The water felt great and refreshing. It made me feel a lot better. I dried myself quickly and put on a fresh shirt and pair of pants. Then I went into the kitchen.
My aunt and uncle, Kitty, and her father were seated around the table. Kitty rose as I walked in. “Jerry, I’d like for you to meet my father, Mr. Sam Benson.”
Her father rose to his feet. He was a tall, heavyset man, six feet at least, maybe two hundred pounds. He held his hand out to me.
“I’m sorry, Jerry, about your parents’ accident. I offer you my sympathy.”
His hand was firm, but gentle. “Thank you, Mr. Benson. Please sit down again.”
I sat down next to Kitty at the table. Mr. Benson looked at me. “My daughter tells me that you two are very good friends. She told me that she was tutoring you in geometry. Kitty was always good in math subjects.”
I smiled to myself. Geometry wasn’t the main thing she was tutoring me in. “She’s been really nice, Mr. Benson,” I said solemnly.
“I also found out something,” he continued. “Our families have many things in common. Both of our ancestors came through Ellis Island at about the same time. My grandfather changed his name to Benson after he first arrived here because nobody could pronounce his name, Bramowickh. And your uncle has been telling me that your grandfather also changed his name from Kuperman to Cooper.”
“My father never told me that,” I said.
Uncle Harry shook his head. “It’s not important anymore. That was a long time ago and now we’re all Americans.” He looked over at Aunt Lila. “It’s been a long day. Is everyone else as hungry as I am?” he asked.
“It’s the first day of shivah,” Aunt Lila said. “We can’t go out to a restaurant now.”
Mr. Benson turned to Uncle Harry. “There’s a great Chink restaurant just around the corner. We can get a whole family take-out dinner. Do you like Chinese?”
The Predators Page 2