Albany Park (17 page)

“Oy, Victor, look what those
momsers
did,” she sobbed, pointing at the storefront and the large black swastika smeared on the window at the other side of the door.

A group of men surrounded Vic. He recognized one as a man he taught English on Sunday mornings.

“Nazis, even here Nazis,” the man said.

Mrs. Grossman turned to the fireman. “When can we go inside? I’d like to see how bad it is and start to clean up.”

“We’ll be done here in a little while, and then I’ll inspect the premises. You should be able to start cleaning up as soon as we’re through.”

He walked away and returned twenty minutes later. “Okay folks. Luckily, it’s not bad, only a little damage, but it’s safe to go in. Good luck.”

Vic turned to the men gathered for the classes. “Hey guys, how ‘bout sticking around, so we can clean up?”

“What you mean, with a stick,” said the man.

Vic laughed. “Stay and help clean?”

Mrs. Grossman was already standing at her desk, sorting through soaked papers and files. She had the phone to her ear, trying to reach her insurance agent.

Vic glanced at her and she nodded to him as he directed the men to start pulling all the trash out to the street and put the furniture and file cabinets back in place. Three other men from the neighborhood who had been watching in the street joined in.

Taking some alcohol and a razor blade he found in the janitor’s closet, Vic started to wipe and scrape the swastika off the window. He paused from time to time to keep everyone’s spirits up, by insisting that they speak English to each other so they could learn as they worked. He and Mrs. Grossman even got a few laughs as they corrected the way the men pronounced the words.

It took four hours to get everything ready for the Sunday opening. The odor of smoke was still in the air and all the workers were damp and covered with black smudges, but the group that was horrified a few hours before, now was all smiles.

Vic was the last to leave. He waited until Mrs. Grossman checked to make sure everything was secure.

“Thank you, Victor,” she said. “It was wonderful how you took over and we got everything under control. I’m happy to see young people like you get involved in our work.”

Reaching up, she pulled him down to kiss his cheek.

“It was nothing, Mrs. G,” he said shrugging a shoulder. “I like doing things to help. It makes me feel good.”

After lunch Monday, Vic sat with Shirley in the back of the Assembly Hall where it wasn’t crowded.

“I heard about what happened at the HIAS office Saturday night. Weren’t you scared?” she asked softly.

“It wasn’t so bad, it looked a lot worse than it was, but I felt sorry for the poor refugees and Mrs. Grossman; they were really frightened. When they saw that swastika on the window; it was like the Nazis were after them all over again.”

“You know, everyone is talking about how you got the place cleaned up and calmed down the people. In fact, my mother even heard about it.”

“Well, it wasn’t much, but how could I have just left them there? Tell me, though, anything new with you?”

“No, but I feel better since we’re back together. I love you and I just know everything is gonna be fine.”

“Have you told anyone about us?”

“No,” she said, looking up from where her head sank to her chest. “What about you?”

He hesitated, not answering her question, wondering how she appeared so lively when with her friends, but serious and somber when he talked to her.

When he didn’t say anything, she looked up, “Don’t be such a stick in the mud! Cheer up a little, everything will be alright.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Well, right now, I’m trying to be positive and I want you to
try too
.”

“Alright, I’ll try,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh Victor, I wish we weren’t in school right now, ‘cause I wanta kiss you and make you feel better.”

A small smile crossed his face, “Well just save the kiss, I think I
need it
.”

“Deal,” she laughed. “Now I gotta run,;don’t wanta be late for class.”

On Friday at lunchtime, they made a date go see “Rhapsody In Blue”, at the Terminal that night. Shirley, wearing Vic’s Aztec jacket with the sleeves pushed up, was being very quiet as they sat together outside the school entrance. She looked away whenever he talked to her.

Head down, she sighed and sniffled softly. “I hope you know I love you,” she said.

Vic had his hands tucked into his pockets, trying to think of something to say that would comfort her. But he was feeling resentful and just pursed his lips tightly while his stomach growled. He was sure she had to be scared out of her wits, but he had to assume the responsibility of being a man for her. In the meantime, he really felt like hiding somewhere and crying. Haunted by “why me,” he felt her shudder when he put a hand on her shoulder. I’ll tell her tonight, he decided.

“C’mon, Shirl, it’s time to go. I got Frank’s car tonight, so I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Vic didn’t say much at home before leaving and Ma asked why he was so quiet. She also inquired about the game the previous week and was surprised he hadn’t mentioned it, especially when they won.

He just shrugged, saying, “I guess I forgot.”

She smiled, knowing how he loved basketball and thought it was strange that he was so quiet, but put it out of her mind until later when she mentioned it to Pa.

He told her it was nothing. That it was just her imagination. “He probably had something else on his mind. You know he’s not a little kid anymore,” he reminded her and went on reading the paper.

After the movie, they went for ice cream at Rudich’s on Central Park and Lawrence. It was a typical Friday after the show let out. A couple of hundred kids, mostly from Von Steuben and Roosevelt, gathered at the lively corner. The boys with their bright colored club jackets and the girls, many wearing their boyfriend’s jackets or the newest style sweaters, were competing for attention and flirting. Loud voices mixed with squeals of laughter and street noise hung in the air.

A police car with lights flashing came cruising down Lawrence to disperse the crowd overflowing into the street. Knowing the routine, kids snickered as they moved to the side or further down the block. Within moments, they returned to the corner to wait for the next pass by the cops.

A few couples, a little removed from the brightly lit corner down Central Park, were locked in feverish embraces and kissing. Onlookers at the fringe shouted comments.

“Hey Joey, what’s that big bulge in your pants,” a boy yelled, followed by loud male laughter and girl’s eye-rolling.

A scuffle broke out when one of the guys in a blue and white Eagles jacket walked up to a girl standing with a boy in a black and silver Lucky Guys jacket and asked, “Wouldn’t you like a real man, honey?”

The response was a quick punch, which was deflected, followed by a shove. A flurry of boys in blue and white jackets mixed with black and silver ones pulled the two apart and things returned to normal.

Some guys were loudly trying to be cute with girls. The girls, on the receiving end of the remarks, smiled or turned away, often shouting, “Shut up, you moron,” if the comment was out of line. The quieter ones just giggled.

As tables opened up inside, kids filed in to place orders for sodas and sundaes. Usually Shirley and Vic sat with one or two other couples, but tonight, they were alone and barely spoke.

He looked around at kids laughing and having a good time. Lips drawn tightly, he shook his head, upset that they all were so happy. Shirley, in the meantime, was gabbing with one of the girls in the next booth and didn’t seem to notice how quiet he had been all evening. He looked at her as she laughed and made animated gestures, waving to friends, while all he could think of was that life as he knew it was over. The world was closing in on them and he couldn’t understand how she could behave so normally.

Laughing, Shirley turned to Vic, smiling as she did.

“How’s your team doing in the tournament?”

He didn’t answer; looking across the table he shook his head and sighed. He didn’t feel like talking with all these people around. His usual confident manner had deserted him. Instead he sat quietly, ignoring the good-natured fun and excitement.

Shirley bubbled, tilting her head, trying to get him to smile , “What you gonna get?”

“Nothin’,” he snarled abruptly. Getting up and starting for the door, “let’s go,” he said over his shoulder. “This place is getting on my nerves.” She quickly followed.

Frankie’s pre-war Ford had been their perfect place for being alone. But pulling away from Rudich’s tonight, it seemed to Vic more like a jail on wheels. He dreaded being alone with her. He had to talk to her and once he did, there was no turning back. The next hour would set the course of his life from this day forward. It frightened him more than anything he had ever encountered. Still, he knew he had to take responsibility for his actions.

They drove silently down Foster to California and turned north for two blocks, then east into the dimly lit lover’s lane. At this late hour, only a few widely spaced apartment buildings with dim lights could be seen in any direction. The only streets up this way that had survived the Depression were those that had been paved and had lamp posts installed along the curbs in the early 1930s. The rest of the land past Foster was barren and deserted except for a few cars parked randomly at least fifty yards apart in between eerie looking street lights.

He parked about a hundred yards away from a narrow three flat, turning off the car and looking straight ahead. Shirley sighed, finally leaning over to kiss him. He didn’t move.

She turned on the tears. “Please,” she sobbed, “I know how you hurt, but I don’t know what to do.”

He stared ahead. After what he felt was a lifetime, he spoke. “Shirley, I want you to know how sorry I am. I wish we could go back to a month ago, before this mess. I know that’s not possible.”

Head down, she cried harder.

Pausing to take a few deep breaths, he continued, “I feel like I’m a hundred years old. My whole life is changed and I’m scared to death.”

“I know I’m not ready for this and I’m sure you feel the same. But it’s here and we have to move ahead,” he said pausing, as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to work up the courage to force the words he wished he didn’t have to say.

She grabbed his hand but he pulled away. Waiting a moment, considering his words carefully, he took a deep breath, “We’re going to have to tell our folks, but I think we better get married first.”

A shriek escaped her lips as she started to say something. He stopped her, putting up a hand in her direction.

”We have to run away to Crown Point. I understand that they have a Justice of the Peace that will marry anyone right on the spot, even in the middle of the night.”

He saw her eyes sparkle through tears..

“Look, I know I can pass for eighteen and I think a girl only has to be sixteen in Indiana.”

“Oh Victor, “she said, sliding over to him. He flinched.

“Once we’re married and our parents know you’re gonna have a baby it’ll be okay,” he sighed. “They’re gonna hate us for doing this to them, but they’ll realize it was the right thing to do. If they disown us, that’s a chance we have to take. I’ll quit school and get a better job. Please, stop crying now.”

Shirley shifted in her seat, moving her legs under her. Leaning back on her knees, she turned to face him. “Oh Victor, I love you so much. Don’t worry I’ll make you happy,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and drawing him close.” This time, he didn’t pull away, but kissed her fiercely.

After being locked in each other’s arms for several minutes, Vic reached inside her sweater and began to fondle and comfort her. Her crying slowed as her breath started to come in short spurts. Reaching for his crotch, she began undoing the buttons. Pulling away, she leaned down to take him in her mouth. He felt some of the stress go out of him as she continued to arouse him and he motioned her to take off her panties and straddle him as he moved to be under her. Caressing her before entering, he could feel her juices flowing.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto him and began rocking as she moaned softly. The passion grew and he lifted her to avoid exploding in her. Gasping, he erupted soiling the seat, remembering too late that he could have stayed inside her; the damage was already done. They both fell back as the tension went out of them. Vic reached under the front seat for the box of Kleenex Frank kept there and handed a tissue to her as she rolled back and he slid away to make room for her. He opened his eyes and watched her as he crumpled the soiled tissue. Instantly, he stopped, noticing the bright red color of blood as he wiped his hand.

“Shirley, what is this?”

She looked up, a frightened grimace crossing her face. “Oh Victor, I didn’t want to tell you. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand. I started to spot earlier today and was scared of what you would do if you knew,” she cried.

“What, have you lost your mind?” he yelled. “I’ve been dying, worrying about you and me.”

She backed away trying to control her breathing, her lips drawn down.

“Weren’t you going to tell me? What are you? Fuckin’ crazy? This is not something you hide from someone. Especially someone you say you love.”

“Please Victor,” she whimpered, “I was going to tell you.”

“Yeah, when? Look I don’t understand you, nor do I believe you.

He started to sputter. “You’ve been lying all along, haven’t you?”

“No, no,” she said.

Glaring, he took a deep breath. “You rotten bitch,” he said softly, his jaw clenching. “How could you? Shirley, you say you love me, but could do this to me. You don’t love me.”

“I do, I do. You know I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

His breath came in short starts and his eyes narrowed into small slits. In a deliberately louder voice, he said, “You have done the worst thing that anyone has ever done to me. You have no idea how you hurt me.”

She reached for his arm. He shook her off.