She looked different to me. Her dark hair was pulled back tight and she was wearing a plaid flannel shirt. Over that was an old army jacket. Both her hands were tucked into the pockets.
I was wearing the old, blue parker that I received a few
years after I got here. It was sent to me in a package put together by a group of nuns - cast away clothes they had received from people in the neighborhood. It was too tight on me now and bulged a little, but still it kept me warm.
We both checked out quickly and headed straight to the enclosure. A harsh wind blew in our faces. As Duffino walked, she wove back and forth, lurching forwards then lagging behind. It was hard to walk a straight line after Insulin.
When we got to the enclosure we sat down on the old tree stump. I knew that soon Duffino would be talking, and then she would belong to everyone. Our secret pact would be broken. I also knew that, until this happened, she could not get well.
She must have known it too, for a wave of sadness fell over both of us.
"I'm putting off plans for escape," I said. "If I wanted to, I could make a break for it now. But I'm waiting for you."
She looked at me.
"I've got my moves are perfectly figured. Some guards nod off at the same time each night. The fat one, Tommy, on the second floor, always nods off at a quarter to midnight. The changing of the guards outside is fifteen minutes later. The moon shines high over the South hill then.
If I can take Tommy's keys, I can get out of our ward. That's all I need. You know that big vent by C ward? It's an air shaft. It leads out to the back of the place. Ten foot fall, and I'm running free. Bingo. All that's left is the barbed wire.
I can make it to the fence in the ten minutes it's unguarded.
I pull myself over, and that's it. But I'm waiting for you to talk."
The wind was strong in our faces, and hard to take. I pulled more of her papers out.
"Try to remember the facts, Duffino. Your life is at stake. After Insulin treatments they've got plenty worse waiting."
I paused a second to let it sink in. Then I started reading.
"My family and I lived together in a small brick house with six rooms. Stuffy rooms without proper ventilation. Every room had flowered wallpaper and a tiny crucifix hanging on the wall. The whole family was religious."
"There were crucifixes all over the convent I was raised in, too," I told Duffino, "harrowing and beautiful. I always wanted to lift my arms up and take sweet Jesus down. I even tried a couple of times.
"One small room in the house belonged to me. I painted it orange and red one day. No one cared much, because they hardly came in my room anyway. They hardly noticed anything I was doing. A bookcase on the far wall was stuffed with all kinds of books, and over it was a large painting of the dawn. There was also one small closet with a few black skirts, gray dresses and school uniforms.
"My clothes hung neatly in the closet, but otherwise the room was a mess. The bed was almost never made. The books were never finished. The records were not put back into their covers. Every day I planned to organize. I had a little brother, too, David. He always said to me, be careful sister, don't get sentimental.
"I listened to him, though he was much younger than me. We had many fine conversations in my messy room.
"'Be careful, Duffino, he said one day. Someday you'll lose your mind in this messy room.'
"'I hope not,' I answered, and took him walking in the dark, concrete pavements of our neighborhood, where brick houses were all lined up in a row.
"There was a small sign on our house that said Welcome Stranger. I put it there one afternoon and my mother took it down. I put it up again. For weeks it went on like this.
"One night after dinner my mother said, 'What's the matter with you? What do you want to do? Attract every nut in town?'
"Impossible, my father muttered, every nut in town lives right here.'
"'There are no nuts in this town,' I answered. 'Everyone is special. Everyone is from God.'
"They didn't like that at all. My mother came up behind me and pulled my hair. My father laughed. I cried and she pulled harder.
"'Daddy,' I yelled.
"He just laughed again.
"'She's hurting me.'
"'In this world we get what we deserve,' my father said. He spent most of his time reading obituaries, brooding about them
and counting off his friends as they went down the drain. He talked to my mother about the funerals for hours, about the sizes of the casket and how much people cried.
"'We're all destined for hell,' he said over and over. 'And we can't stop it either. Can we?'
"'I'm not going to hell, daddy. Not me.'
"'Oh no? You're special?'
"My mother didn't like this kind of talk. She was a small woman, who loved the Virgin Mary. She listened to my father, and said her rosary over and over all night long.
"That was six years ago. Now the house has burned down and they've all moved to another house around the corner. All of them, except me.
"I changed since the morning I left school with Miguel. My hair grew longer, and Miguel and I were constantly together. Once in awhile I persuaded him to join me in the few classes I still went to. Once in awhile he came upstairs with me, so I would not be alone. When he couldn't stand to be cooped up in there, we left together and roamed the streets.
"None of the teachers said anything to us. What did they care? The school was too full. They were too busy. They chalked us off. We were the rotten ones. There were the good ones and the bad ones. They had us pegged.
"But if the teachers didn't care, the kids noticed that Miguel and I were always together. He wouldn't go anywhere if I was not on his arm.
"Miguel and I started spending more and more time in the streets, until we almost never returned to school at all. When we did, the words of the teachers meant nothing to us. They were words only, not real. And Miguel and I, we longed for what was real. The streets around the school were real. We hung out on them all the time.
"They were narrow, shady, and dirty streets filled with lots of two story houses stuck close to each other. In front of each house was a metal garbage can and once in awhile a scraggly tree. It barely grew. There was not much sunlight.
"Men with chow mein stands wheeled their carts up and down the streets, looking for hungry people. There were also candy stores with penny candies, juke boxes, meat loaf sandwiches wrapped in cellophane and a small room in the back where you could find any kind of connection, if you needed one. You could also smell the sweet smell of marijuana mixed with garbage and cheap perfume.
"The kids who lived on the streets never noticed the smell. I always noticed. Miguel had lived here all his life. These streets were his streets. They belonged to him now. He had earned their respect. And he had it.
"Because of Miguel I grew to love these streets, too. I felt at home. Pretty soon I began to look like him. People even commented. They said the far away look on my face had turned into Miguel's proud, haughty face. My cheeks grew thinner and my cheekbones protruded. Even my mouth was redder and fuller, like his. We made love all the time.
"Everywhere we went, we made love to make it our place. These streets had become a mother to us. She had bruised breasts and dirty armpits. The lots, backyards, alleys, doorways, we made love in every spot.
"Miguel was the king of these streets. When he said something, the other kids listened. They were a tough bunch, too. The girls wore tight sweaters and shiny lipstick. The guys dressed in black and always made deals. Miguel knew everything about each little deal that passed up and down the blocks like fire.
"They were funny kinds of deals. To me they didn't seem important, but Miguel poured over them for hours.
"'At ten of twelve we all meet on the corner of Connelly. There's a small pawn shop on the south corner. Carl will work the lock.' Miguel gave directions to Carl, a skinny kid who was good at locks. At least he was good at something, Miguel told me.
Thank God, he was good at locks. While Carl works the lock,
George and Mick cover will in front. Anyone who passes by is their business. Drag them to the back. Rough 'em up a little.'
"This wasn't a new plan, they'd pulled two or three like this before. Still, Miguel poured over every detail. He was like a
king guarding his men. And they loved him for it.
"'How about the cops?' Tony always checked in.
"'No way. It's the wrong hour. If you see one, call me. I'll be with Duffino.'
"'Again?' Tony's face twisted with disgust. 'A girl on a job?'
"Miguel waved his hand and Tony was quiet. 'If I am somewhere, Duffino follows.' No one dared argue with him.
"The jobs were easy and always went smoothly. It was pin money they were after at first. Once they got it, Miguel divided it fairly.
"The money itself was not important to him. It was like love for Miguel to pull a good job. The gang used the money to buy
reefers, hamburgers and new nylon stockings for their moms.
"Miguel gave all his money to me. I bought us food with it in the small candy store where we ate our meals everyday.
"I never got home until late in the evening, though no one seemed to really notice. They were too tied up in their worlds, my mother and father. My mother was busy with the church, baking cookies for benefits. My father worked late at night. Only my brother waited up for me, and he was sad. I tried to tell him what had happened, but I was unable. Instead, I carried him to his bedroom and tried to sing him to sleep.
"After some months like this I quietly withdrew from school.
Miguel intercepted some papers which were sent home and signed them in my father's big handwriting. The papers said he was aware that his daughter Duffino was no longer in attendance at school.
"Except for the jobs which were pulled every so often, it was a simple life, full of happiness. I left home early each morning, as if I were going to school and met Miguel at the corner of Connelly. The only difference which my family noticed was that I had grown remarkably beautiful, and that my room was different, empty of everything, darker, neat.Only my brother lived in deep fear for me, but he was a child and could express nothing.
"Each morning Miguel and I had breakfast at a small luncheonette that smelled of Lysol and grease. We were always the first ones there in the morning. The old man who ran the place's name was Joe. He was bent over with thin gray hair and big, round ears that framed his head. He joked with us every morning, clucking his tongue inside his cheek. Miguel loved Joe.
"'You two crazy kids here again?' Joe'd say when we came in.
"'Yeah, that's right, beautiful Joe.'
"Old Joe shook his head. 'What's the matter? Don't you two babies have mamas to give you breakfast anymore? I got to be everyone's mamma here on the block?'
"'Make those eggs hot, old mamma Joe,' Miguel laughed with him.
"'Some life for an old man, huh?' Joe muttered.'A wet nurse to two beautiful babies.'
"But when it rained and the weather was freezing, Joe was there half an hour early to let us in.
"After breakfast, Miguel and I walked. Sometimes we talked and sometimes we didn't. First we passed along the blocks the gang lived on. Miguel would say, Carl lives here. I looked up at a small, yellow house with a slanty roof and cracked window pane. Or he would say, Tony lives there with his stupid sister. He never pointed to his own house though. I knew it was somewhere on these streets but I never asked him. At the end of Robeson Avenue, another school district started.
"'That's a lousy school over there,' Miguel said.
"Why?'
"'Everyone of them stinks. All of the people born in those blocks all stink. I would kill any one of them.' I held his hand tighter. How can that be? I looked down the blocks and was afraid for him. They were ugly blocks, like the ones we just walked on. No different from our streets.
"'I don't go there and they don't come here,' Miguel once told me. 'That's the arrangement. It's quiet now. We have our arrangement. Frank Splaneto and me are equal.'
"Frank Splaneto was the head of the other section down there.
He had a tough girlfriend too, Cookie, with blonde frizzled
hair.
"I held Miguel's hand tighter. 'What's the difference between one kid and another? This block and that?'
"He only laughed at me. 'That's why I love you baby.'
"'There's no difference. You kill Splaneto, you kill yourself.'
"'Because you're beautiful. You live in a good world. A dream
world that's good.'
"'It's not a dream world.'
"'Okay, I believe you.'
"'You don't believe me.'
"'Sure, I do. Come on, we won't talk about it now. Let's
go to the beach.'
"It didn't matter what season, almost everyday we went to the beach. We crossed the small bridge that went out to the ocean, even when it was raining out.
"The streets leading to the beach were easier to be on. The air was fresher and filled with the smell of sea water. The houses were poor too, but not as crowded. Before we realized it, we were at the piers. There was always someone there, working on a boat, or repairing a net.
"'What are you two bums doing out of school this hour in the morning?' they sometimes said.
"'We just got married,' Miguel answered.
"'Every morning you get married. Here's a fish to celebrate.'
"Often we hung around the docks for awhile then walked onto the beach enclosed between two large jetties. Miguel lifted me to the top of a rock and then climbed up besides me. He puts his arms around me and I leaned back into his chest as we looked at the water together. Two people looking through the same eyes.
"'When I was a kid,' he once said, 'I wanted to be a fisherman, down here at Sheepshead Bay.'
"'Why did you change your mind?'
"'I don't know. Hey, I got too restless to go after fish.'
"Then he buried his head in my hair. 'How about you, Duffino? What did you always want to do?'
"There was nothing left I wanted now that I was with Miguel.
"'To find you,' I smiled and shut my eyes while he kissed my face and neck. We didn't turn back until noon.
"When Miguel and I got back from the beach, the streets around school were beginning to fill up. They filled with kids let out for lunch. With housewives, clerical workers, and truck drivers who stopped here along their route. They were always swarming with hungry people looking for food.
"Miguel and I bought a chow mein sandwich and then took it to a small gritty booth at the corner candy store. Once in awhile, somebody I used to know recognized me and said, 'hey, there's crazy Duffy.'
"If they were standing close enough to where Miguel could hear, he'd put his hand on their shoulders and say, there's who? The kid would back away. Actually, Miguel didn't have to do that. The words of others no longer affected me at all.
"At about two o'clock our crowd started to gather. The crowd was made up of Tony, Carl, George, Billy and their girls. The girls didn't like me much but they never said anything. They knew I belonged to Miguel and that was enough for them. I stayed close to him and he was their leader.
"I never asked him to leave his friends, or to stop pulling jobs. The jobs were his blood and I saw that. There was no other place for Miguel to go. Not now. He loved these streets even as he hated them. He even loved the people he stole from. When he smashed into their doors and stole their tiny products, he was getting close, making love though they never felt it that way.
"They cursed him for it. I was sorry for them that they did not understand that Miguel was trying to teach them to let go of
everything, to let a stranger come in. He was trying to teach them all about love.
"One day I saw that Miguel could even love Frank Splaneto's ugly girl, Cookie. I heard about this from Nancy, one of the girls in our crowd. Nancy was much softer than the others, and friendlier to me. Sometimes
I saw her looking at me, curious or sad. Once she even came over and said she wanted to be my friend. I started to cry when she said that. I put my head down on the metal luncheonette counter and just started to cry.
"Miguel got frightened and ran over to Nancy. He grabbed her shoulders. 'What did you say to her?' he growled.
"'Nothing,' I answered, jumped up and pushed him away from her. 'Nancy was nice to me.'
"His face was white anyhow. 'I will kill,' he said with a sharp flick of his wrist, 'anyone who hurts Duffino.'
"Nancy started trembling.
"'No,' I yelled at the top of my voice. The whole luncheonette grew still. They smelled danger. 'She was nice to me. Listen, Miguel. Don't hurt Nancy, ever! She was kind.'
"'I love you Duffino,' Miguel roared back like an explosion.
'I love you and nothing, nothing will take you away. Ever. I won't let it. Do you hear me?'
"I won't let it. I won't let death claim us. The words rang in my ears for hours after that. There was nothing I could do to make them stop.
I stopped reading, paused, and looked over at Duffino who was listening raptly to every word. Her story had made me restless though, more restless than I had felt for awhile. I felt like stalking these hills, making my break for it, and running as far as I could, right now.
"Soon our hours will be up," I said.
She gazed at me with a face that looked sculpted from stone. "See how early the light is beginning to fade."
She didn't seem to care.
I cared tremendously though. I could barely sit in the silence like this, and was thrilled when the afternoon chimes rang out piercingly, calling us back up the hill.
Chapter Fifteen
When we returned, Duffino and I went to our rooms and sat on our beds, exhausted. We could hardly get up to prepare for dinner, wash our faces, or comb our hair.
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