“You stupid ass,” the thin nasty voice was shouting, “I don’t know why I hired you anyway. That’s the trouble with all you guys who been in business for yourselves. You think you know everything, you don’t listen to anybody!”
The voice faded away and the low-pitched murmur of Papa’s voice took its place. I couldn’t make out the words, so I looked back through the glass partition separating the back room from the store. Papa was standing there talking to Mr. Gold. Mr. Gold was glaring up at him, his face ruddy with rage. He began to shout again even before Papa had finished speaking.
“I don’t want no excuses, no alibis! I felt sorry for you when you came in here crying how you needed a job, but, God-dammit, you’ll either do the work the way I want it done or out you’ll go! You hear me, Fisher! My way or out! That’s all!”
I could hear Papa distinctly now. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gold,” he was saying. There was a beaten, servile quality in his voice that made me sick to my stomach. “It won’t happen again, Mr. Gold. I promise.”
A wild impulse was running through me. I could kill the little son of a bitch who spoke to my father like that. No man had the right to do that to another.
The clerk’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Anything I can do for you, sir?”
I shook my head and started for the door. Then I remembered the dinner I had in my hand and went back to the counter and put it down. “This is Doc Fisher’s supper,” I told the clerk, and ran out of the door, Mr. Gold’s thin high-pitched voice following me out into the street.
“A buck and a half apiece?” Spit’s voice was querulous.
I looked at him coldly. My voice was flat. “You kin do better, you fence it.”
Saliva ran in tiny beads from the corner of Spit’s mouth as it always did when he was excited. “Okay, Danny, okay,” he said hastily. “I ain’t arguin’.’
I finished distributing the money, then looked up at them. I had held out two bucks on them, but that was my due. I had figured out the job.
“What we gonna do next, Danny?” Spit asked, looking at me expectantly.
“I dunno,” I answered, taking out a cigarette. “But no more uh this. There ain’t enough in it.” I lit the cigarette. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of somethin’.” I looked at my watch. It was almost seven o’clock. “I’m gonna take a shot at the crap game in the garage,” I said. “Anybody wanna come with me?”
“Not for me,” Spit drooled quickly. “I got a dame lined up. At least I’ll get somethin’ outta my dough that way.”
The gang broke up and I walked alone around the corner. Spit had reminded me. I had a date at nine with that girl behind the soda fountain. She seemed like a bright kid. That was okay with me, I liked them bright.
I was almost at the garage now. I felt better as I came near the entrance. The three and a half bucks I had in my pocket was as good as nothing. If I was lucky I could afford to buy the dame some chinks.
A thin-faced Italian kid was standing in the garage entrance acting as lookout. I walked past him. The kid put out a hand to stop me. “Where ya goin’?” he asked.
I brushed his hand off me without anger. “Easy, luksh,” I smiled. “I’m just gonna try my luck.”
The Italian boy smiled back at me in recognition. “Okay, Danny,” he said, turning back to the entrance.
I walked through the darkened garage toward a light in the back. In a space hidden by the automobiles surrounding it, a group of men and boys were standing in a small semicircle. Their voices were low and quiet, punctuated only by the metallic clicking of the dice. Several of them looked at me as I came up, but their gaze returned quickly to the floor as they recognized me. Their attention was riveted on the dice as they rolled along the floor and bounced back from the wall.
I stood there quietly for a few minutes trying to get the feel of the game. I didn’t believe in bucking the dice, I tried to nose out who was not and then follow that player. There was a small, swarthy guy who seemed to be doing all right. I watched him for a while. He had picked up two bets before I made up my mind. The next time he bet against the dice I went along with him. I threw a buck down on the floor. “Against,” I said. The bookie covered it.
The shooter made the point and I lost my bet. I followed the swarthy man again. This time I won. Again I bet and won. I began to feel excitement stirring in me. I bet again and won. I had seven bucks now. It was not quite eight o’clock and I began to feel lucky.
I stood on the kerb in front of the store and watched the girls coming out. I lit a cigarette. It was ten after nine. She was certainly taking her time. Maybe she was giving me a stand-up. I’d give her five more minutes.
“Hello, Danny,” she said quietly. She was standing beside me. I had watched her come out the door, but hadn’t recognized her, she looked so much younger in her own clothes than in her uniform.
“Hi, Nellie.” My eyes widened. She was just a kid. At the most she was no older than me. “Yuh hungry?” I asked after a moment’s hesitation.
She nodded quietly. She seemed a little embarrassed, not as sure of herself as she had been behind the counter of the store.
I took her arm and steered her toward the corner, looking at her from the corner of my eyes. Her hair was jet-black, and bluish tones seemed to flicker in it as the lights from the store windows struck it. Her eyes were wide and looked straight ahead as she walked. She wore lipstick, but of a softer shade than she had worn during the day.
“You look younger,” I exclaimed in a sort of surprise.
She turned her face toward me. “A lot of girls make up to look older in the store. Otherwise they might not hold their jobs.” A shy warmth came into her eyes. “You look older.”
I smiled back at her. That made me feel good. We were in front of the restaurant, its faded yellow and blue sign blinking at us:
CHOW MEIN 3OC. CHOP SUEY
“Let’s eat,” I said, opening the door and letting her walk in before me.
A tired-looking, wizened old Chinese showed us to a table. He dropped two menus on the table before us and shuffled slowly back to the door. The restaurant was almost empty; only two other tables were occupied. I glanced down the menu perfunctorily. I already knew what I wanted. Then I looked across the table at her.
She met my glance. “Chow mein for me.” She smiled.
“And fried rice. We’ll mix it,” I added quickly. I didn’t want her to get any wrong ideas. I wasn’t made out of dough.
A young Chinese waiter, as tired-looking as the old man who had seated us, placed a pot of tea on the table and languidly waited for our order. I gave it to him quickly and he went away. Then I turned back to the girl. As my eyes caught her gaze, she lowered her glance. A faint flush began to creep into her face and a strained air suddenly came between us.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She raised her eyes to meet mine. “I shouldn’t be here,” she replied nervously. “I don’t even know who you are. My father——”
“Your old man wouldn’t like it?” I interrupted, smiling confidently. I felt more sure of myself now. “How old are you, anyway?”
Her eyes met mine levelly. “Sev——No, sixteen,” she answered hesitantly.
“Been working there long?” I asked.
“Almost a year,” she said. “They think I’m older.”
“Your old man rough on you?” I asked. A sympathy I couldn’t restrain had crept into my voice, and it seemed to lessen the strangeness between us.
“He’s all right, I guess. You know those old-fashioned Italians. It’s always in the old country this, the old country that.” She looked into my eyes candidly. “I’m supposed to come right home after work. I’m old enough to lie about my age to get a job and bring home money, but I’m not old enough to go out with boys. If he knew I was out with you, he’d give me hell.”
I looked at her speculatively, wondering why the long buildup. “Then why did you come?” I asked.
She smiled. “Mayb
e I’m getting tired of living in the old country. Maybe it’s time he learned this is a new place. We do things differently here.”
“Is that the only reason?” I asked, still watching her closely.
Her face began to blush under my scrutiny. “No, it isn’t,” she confessed, shaking her head slightly. “I wanted to come with you. I wanted to see what you were like.”
“Do you like what you see?”
She nodded silently, her face still flushing. “Do you?” she asked in a shy little voice.
I reached across the table and took her hand This was going to be a pushover. “I sure do, Nellie,” I said confidently. “I sure do.”
She stopped on the street corner under the light. “You better leave me here, Danny,” she said, looking up at me. “My father might be waitin’ on the steps for me.”
“That’s a good brush,” I said coldly.
A shadow came into her eyes. “Danny, it’s not.” Her voice was earnest. “Really, it’s not. You don’t know my old man.”
“Sure,” I said lightly, “I know it’s an old gag, but I’m a sucker for it. I half believe yuh.”
Her hand caught mine. “You must believe me, Danny,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t fool you. Honest, I wouldn’t.”
I still held on to her hand tightly. “What’ll yuh tell him you’re comin’ in so late for?”
“I’ll tell him we got stuck in the store. He knows sometimes we have to stay.”
“Will he be mad?”
“No,” she replied. “He don’t care if it’s that. He don’t care how late I work.”
I let go of her hand and stepped back into the doorway of a store, away from the street lamp. “C’mere,” I said.
She watched me for a second, then took a hesitant step toward me. Her voice was suddenly nervous. “What for?”
I looked at her steadily. “You know what for,” I said quietly. “C’mere.”
She took another half-step and then stopped. A strange hurt came into her face. “No, Danny. I’m not that kind.”
I made my voice bitter and cutting. “Then it is the brush.” I took a cigarette from my pocket and put it between my lips. “Okay, baby. Beat it. You had your fun.”
I struck a match and held it to my cigarette. When I looked up she was still watching me. There was a peculiar tenseness in the way she stood there, like a doe about to run. The street light behind her threw blue sparkling lights into her hair.
I blew a cloud of smoke toward her. “What’re you waitin’ for? Go on home. Your ol’ man’s waitin’.”
She took another step toward me. “Danny, that ain’t the way I want it. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
I was getting sore. Why was she making such a big deal out of the whole thing? My voice mimicked her: “Danny, that ain’t the way I want it!” I laughed bitterly.
There were tears in her eyes. “I thought you liked me, Danny,” she said in a small voice. “I liked you.”
I reached out quickly and grabbed her arm and pulled her toward me in the dimly lit doorway. I dropped the cigarette to the ground and put my arms around her.
I could feel the stiffness in her body as she looked up at me, her eyes wide and frightened. But she stood still, very still.
I kissed her swiftly, feeling her lips crush beneath mine, her hard teeth behind them. Her lips were cold. I kissed her again. They were a little warmer now and parted slightly. I felt them move and kissed her again. They were warm now and pressed back against me.
I looked down at her, smiling slightly. “Is that so bad, Nellie?”
She hid her face against my shoulder. “You’ll think I’m no good,” she cried.
I was puzzled. This wasn’t what I had expected at all. My confusion spilled over into my voice. “What you play up to me this afternoon for? Yuh should know the score by now.”
She looked up at me and in the dark her eyes were soft and wide but no longer afraid. “I liked you, Danny, that’s why. That’s why I didn’t go home when you told me.”
I looked at her for a moment; then I sought her lips again. This kiss was for real. I held her close to me. “But yuh acted so wise,” I whispered. “About the fight an’ all that. You knew that Spit and Solly were fakin’. How’d yuh know somethin’ like that if yuh never been aroun’?”
“My oldest brother, Giuseppe, was a pug,” she answered, not stirring in my arms. “He taugnt me to tell when they were fakin’ it.”
“I like you,” I said, laughing suddenly. “You’re funny, but you’re nice.”
She smiled up at me. “Not mad any more?”
I shook my head. “No, baby.”
This time she held her face up to me and waited for my lips. I looked down at her, not moving. Her eyes were closed. “Danny,” she whispered shyly, “kiss me, Danny.”
I felt the change in her lips. They were suddenly open to me and she was pressing desperately against me. My arms tightened around her. I dropped my hand along her spine, moulding her to me.
Her eyes were still closed. We were drifting in a hazy cloud. The corner was gone, the street lamp was gone, the doorway was gone. Everything had vanished except the pressure of our lips. I closed my eyes as my hands sought the warmth of her body.
Her whisper was almost a scream in my ears. “Danny! Danny, stop!” Her hands were grabbing excitedly at mine, pushing them away from her.
I caught her wrists and held them. Her body was trembling frightenedly. “Easy, baby, easy,” I said gently. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”
The panic left her as suddenly as it had come and she hid her face against my shoulder. “Oh, Danny, I never felt like this before.”
I put my hand under her chin and lifted her face toward me. Tears were standing in her eyes. “Me neither,” I said earnestly. And I meant it too.
Her eyes grew large and round with wonder. “Danny, do you——” her voice hesitated. “Do you think maybe we’re in love?”
I was puzzled. I didn’t know. I tried to smile. “Maybe we are, Nellie. Maybe we are.”
Almost as I spoke, an embarrassment seemed to spring up between us and we moved apart. I took out and lit a cigarette. Her hand reached toward me and I took it. We stood there silently, hand in hand, until the cigarette burned down.
Then I threw it away and it fell into the gutter, spilling small sparks, and we turned and looked at each other. I smiled. “Hi, Nellie.’
“Hello, Danny,” she whispered back shyly.
We stared at each other for a moment and then began to laugh. With our laughter, the embarrassment seemed to fall away. I bent and kissed her quickly, our hand-clasp tightening and loosening as our lips met and quit.
“Hope your father won’t be mad,” I said.
“He won’t be,” she smiled. “I’ll tell him I was working.”
We walked out of the doorway to the corner under the street light. Her face was flushed and bright, her eyes shining with a brand-new warmth, and her teeth were white and sparkling under her red lips as she smiled at me.
“Did I tell you you were pretty?” I asked jestingly.
“No,” she answered.
“I guess I didn’t have time,” I grinned, “so I’ll tell you now. You’re very pretty. Like a movie star.”
“Oh, Danny!” Her hand clung to mine very tightly.
“I guess yuh gotta go,” I said seriously.
She nodded.
“Well—good night then,” I said, letting go of her hand.
“Will I see you again, Danny?” Her voice was very small.
“Sure thing.” I grinned quickly. “I’ll drop around to the store tomorrow.”
Her face brightened. “I’ll make you a special soda. Three full scoops of ice cream!”
“Three scoops!” I exclaimed. “You couldn’t keep me away then!”
She was smiling again. “Good night, Danny.”
“Good night, baby.”
She started across the street, then turned back to me. There wa
s an anxious look on her face. “You won’t bring your friends, will you? They might get caught.”
“Yuh worried about them, Nellie?” I laughed.
“I don’t give a damn about them,” she said fiercely. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
I felt a glow kiting through me. She was a good kid. “I won’t bring them.”
The serious look was still on her face. “Do you have to run around with them and do things like that, Danny? You might get caught. Can’t you get a job?”
“No,” I answered stiffly. “My folks won’t let me quit school.”
Her hand reached for mine and squeezed it understandingly. There was deep concern in her eyes. “Be careful, Danny,” she said softly.
I smiled down at her. “I will,” I promised.
She stepped up on the kerb and kissed me quickly. “Good night, Danny.”
“Night, baby.”
I watched her run across the street and turn into a doorway. She stopped there for a moment and waved at me. I waved back. Then she disappeared into the hallway.
I turned and started down the street. I felt good. I felt so good I almost forgot how much I hated living down here until I crossed Delancey Street in front of Papa’s store and saw Mr. Gold again.
Chapter Three
HE was standing in front of the store stuffing a small canvas-and-leather pouch into his pocket. I knew what it was right away. It was a pouch used to make a night deposit in the bank.
Automatically I ducked into a doorway and watched him. A glance at my watch told me it was a few minutes to twelve. He glanced once more in the store window, then started down Delancey Street toward Essex. I followed him slowly, lagging half a block behind.
At first I didn’t know why I did it, but as I moved along behind him, the reason came to me. He turned up Essex and began to walk quickly. I crossed to the opposite side of the street and kept pace with him, the idea taking quick shape in my mind.
He walked to the bank on the corner of Avenue A and First Street. There he took the little pouch from his pocket and dropped it in the night depository. Then he turned and started up Avenue A.
A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952) Page 12