Teen Angel (13 page)

“We were just hanging around …”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS? A WHOREHOUSE?” He yelled. “Decent people live here. Puta!”

Miguel put his arm around D.B. but didn’t say anything.

Robert noticed Steve’s bottle of tequila. He grabbed it out of his hand, ran to the window, and flung it into the courtyard. Several windows opened immediately, followed by Spanish curses.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Steve said. “There was a little left and it cost five dollars and sixty-nine cents.”

“Hey, punk, how old are you?”

“How old do I look?” Steve flashed a ridiculous smile and batted his eyelashes.

Robert’s eyes grew large. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO? One of your flunkies?”

Steve stood up and pretended to cross himself. “Spectacles, testicles, cigarettes, and wallet–”

“Shut your face,” Ruben said under his breath.

As Steve laughed, waving back and forth like there was a wind in the room, Robert slammed him in the stomach. “You don’t have respect for nothing. None of you. Punks.”

“I guess he didn’t like my joke.” Steve grabbed his stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he slurred. “Sick … oh no … shit …” He started to throw up on Crystal’s bedspread, the rug, and all over himself.

“Stop it! Do you hear me! Stop it!” Robert screamed, shaking Steve. “Look what you’re doing to my sister’s bed. I’ll kill you!”

Ruben bent down and reached into his boot. When he stood up, he held a shining blade pointed at Robert. “I wouldn’t do that to my friend if I were you …”

“RUBEN, DON’T!” Sonny gasped.

“Hey, man, be cool,” Miguel whispered.

“Okay, so that’s the way you want it,” Robert said, turning to face him. “You think you’re real tough, huh? Punk, that’s what you are. A punk.” He walked over to Ruben slowly, his eyes never leaving the blade. “You’re going to feel very sorry that you did that.” In what seemed like a split second, he lunged at Ruben, grabbing him by the knees. Ruben fell. The blade dropped out of his hand. Then Robert kicked him in the ribs.

“Man, you’re nothing but a punk. You’re just not in this league. Do you hear me?” Robert said. “I don’t believe this. Teenage hoodlums in my parents’ house. I ought to call the police and have you all picked up.” He kicked Ruben again.

“Don’t do that!” Sonny cried. “Please don’t. Really, we didn’t do anything bad …”

Steve sat in a puddle of his own vomit. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Ruben. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make a mess. I mean, man …”

Ruben didn’t answer. He rubbed his ribs and stomach.

“Okay, you all better stay right there. I’ll be back,” he said. “If anything is missing around here you’re all going to feel sorry.”

“Are you all right?” Sonny asked Ruben.

He sat with his eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

“What are we supposed to do now?” D.B. asked.

Mary shook her head sorrowfully. “Thit …”

“We’re all going to get into a lot of trouble.” Sonny bit her lip nervously. “I can feel it.”

“He’s just a lot of hot air,” the Gooch said, taking out a compact from her bag. She powdered her face.

Miguel said, “God, the guy is built like a pile of bricks.”

“He thinks he’s hot shit,” the Gooch said. “Just because he works at Sunoco. He can’t do anything to us.”

“Someone ought to give him a hot lead enema,” Steve said. “Are you all right, man?”

“Damn him!” Ruben pounded the floor with his fist. “Goddamn it.”

Sonny tried to touch his arm but he shook it off.

“Okay,” Robert said, closing the door behind him. “I’m going to call your parents up and see how they like the idea of their kids smoking, drinking, and fucking around up here with no one home.”

He carried the telephone into the room from the hallway.

“You can waste your dime if you want to,” the Gooch said. They don’t give a shit.” Sonny avoided Robert’s eyes.

“Okay, since you’re so tough, sister. The number.”

The Gooch gave him a number, which he dialed carefully. “Hello, I’m calling about your daughter. She-What the hell-they hung up!”

“They don’t give a shit,” the Gooch repeated.

“Just give me that number again.”

She exaggerated enunciating each digit.

Robert dialed again and waited. This time they could hear a man’s voice yelling over the receiver, “If this is the police, we don’t care. Do you understand? You can lock her up. She’s nothing but trouble.” He hung up.

The Gooch shot Robert a triumphant look. “I told you. They
don’t give a shit.” She took out her compact again.

“No wonder you’re all such hoodlums.” Sonny avoided his glance.

“You. The tall one.”

Sonny wished she could disappear. Her mother would be just starting supper. She changed the last digit of the telephone number.

“Hello … Just a minute.” He put his hand over the receiver. “What’s your name?”

“Sonny.”

“Last name.”

“Palovsky.”

“Mrs. Palovsky. Oh …” He hung up. “Let’s have that number again.”

This time, she gave him the correct number.
What else could she do? Rattle off all the numbers until she ran out?
As he dialed the numbers, she held her breath.
Don’t be home. Please … You forgot a container of milk and had to go to Pioneer. You had to pick up Mike’s shoes. The cleaners.
.. She crossed her fingers behind her back.
I’ll be good. I promise
.

“Mrs. Palovsky?” he said. “I thought you might like to know where your daughter has been this afternoon …”

“WHO IS THIS?” Her mother screamed so loud that everyone could hear her.

“I found your daughter and some of her hoodlum friends up in my parents’ apartment while nobody was home. They’ve been having a regular orgy-drinking, smoking, and fooling around with some guys. One of them even came after me with a knife.” Robert held out the receiver for Sonny. “She wants to talk to you.”

Sonny put the receiver to her chest and then turned her back to everyone. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. “No, Mom. Listen, that’s not what happened. We were just …” She bit her lip violently. “No, I’m not lying. I promise … I’ll tell you when I
come home. I can explain … No, don’t! Please! PLEASE DON’T CALL HIM! He won’t understand, Mom. Please.” When she gave Robert the receiver, her eye makeup had already formed black bars down both of her cheeks. She walked out of the room without turning around.

Where were all the tit-tweaking, ass-grabbing, pussy-panting P.R.s when she needed them? Usually they were very democratic. They wouldn’t think twice of gang-banging a paraplegic nun covered with warts and holy water.
Please. Take me. I’ll lick your boots and even be your sex slave like that chick in the
National Enquirer. Sonny walked past a few of them as she entered Liggett’s on 157th Street, and they didn’t even make dirty kissing noises.
Save me. I’m going to die
. Forty-five cents. That’s all she had and the silver in her teeth.
Idiot!
She should have taken a couple of bills from her father’s wallet instead of this small change. That way she could escape. Somewhere. California.
Forty-five cents
. She could ride the IRT between South Ferry and 242nd Street all night. And maybe a rapist, mugger, or killer would come along.

“Hi, you guys,” she said to Ronny, who was Steve’s older brother, and Danny. They sat at the counter sipping a lemon coke and a black and white like they were one-hundred proof. Ronny
also had a BLT with pickles. They didn’t turn around.
Their loss
. Sonny shrugged her shoulders and headed for the back where there was a telephone booth.
This guy delivers a telegram to an old lady. “Could you make it a singing telegram for me. I love singing telegrams …” “Lady,” he says. “Puh-leez …” she begs. “I do so love singing telegrams …” “Okay, you asked for it-da, da, da, YOUR SON IS DEAD, OH HOW HE BLED …
”

“Hello,” Sonny said, trying to make her voice sound deep and husky. “Is this Mrs. Palovsky? Yes? We’re very sorry to have to tell you this but your daughter has been in a serious automobile accident … We think she will live. It’s a miracle. We’ve sent her home but she will require plenty of rest …”

“SONNY!” her mother yelled over the receiver. “How dare you! You curse! You disease! I recognize your voice. Now come home immediately!” She signed off with a Polish curse that had something to do with cow’s blood. Sonny hung up the phone.

Thirty-five cents. That could buy a chocolate malted or two slices of pizza with a nickel left over. She decided on the pizza because it lasted longer.

Not a single P.R. said anything as she walked to Tony’s on the corner of Broadway and 161st Street. He had the best pizza because he wasn’t cheap with cheese. And sometimes he put a few mushrooms and sausages on her slice for free. Sonny spent twenty minutes on each slice, pulling the cheese and chewing like Mrs. Hirsch when she wasn’t wearing her false teeth. She tried to hold each bite in her mouth as long as she could. Finally all that was left was a greasy square of waxed paper.

Slowly, one step at a time, past the shoemaker’s, the key store, she counted the squares up her block. Sonny even jumped on a couple cracks in the pavement.
Step on a crack and break your mother’s back
. It never worked, no matter how many times she did it.

Tommy was pacing around a parked car, looking pissed about
something. She was so happy to see his mug she had to restrain herself from giving him a fat sock on the arm.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” She walked over to him.

“Get lost.” Tommy bent down and ran his hand in the gutter.

“What are you looking for?”

“I told you, go take a long walk on a short pier.”

“Maybe I can help you?”

“DAMN!” Tommy said, kicking the tire of a parked car. “Where the hell is the cap?”

Sonny crouched on her knees next to Tommy and ran her fingers in the space between the tire and the curb.

“It just rolled under the car when I was taking a shot. I know, it has to be somewhere.”

Sonny moved down several feet and tried to look under the car. “We ought to have a flashlight …”

“Oh, shut your face.” Tommy banged his fist on the car’s hood.

“Hey, you shouldn’t do that.”

“Palovsky, beat it. Do you hear me?”

“What did Mr. Tomato see when he looked over the fence? Mrs. Green Pea …”

“That’s as funny as a rubber crutch in a polio ward.”

“Just a second,” Sonny shrieked. “I found it!” She pulled out a metal screw.

“Will you get out of here already … FUCK!” Tommy raged.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Sonny followed him to the other side of the car.

“Wait …” Tommy said. “I think I’ve got it …” He crawled halfway under the car. When he came up, he held his bottle cap with the melted wax. “What are you standing around for?”

“I can stand here if I want to,” she said, looking up the four stories to her own fire escape.

“I don’t care what the hell you do,” Tommy said, positioning himself to resume the game. “By the way, did you ever get that bag?”

“Not everyone is as cheap as you are …”

“What’d you use it for? To keep your nose from getting a cold?”

“As a matter of fact,” Sonny said, “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“You?” Tommy laughed. “No one would go near you with a screwdriver, Olive Oyl.”

“You think you’re hot shit on a silver platter but you’re cold piss in a paper cup …”

“Oh yeah? With your tuna fish cunt, you could kill niggers.”

“I wouldn’t talk. Your mother’s like a cup of coffee-hot, black and ready for cream …”

“Yours is like a police station-dicks coming and going all day.” Tommy flicked the cap across the street.

“Well, yours is laid all over the country like a railroad and–”

“SONNY! COME HOME THIS MINUTE!” her mother screamed from the window. “DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT SO YOU WON’T FORGET IT …” She slammed the window. Then she stood there waiting.

“See ya,” she said.

Sonny entered her building like someone going in front of a firing squad. As she walked through the lobby and approached the mirror which occupied a full wall, she studied her reflection. Pretty tough, she thought, with her leather jacket collar turned up, her tight black skirt, her dark stockings and boots. But when she came up close enough to inspect her face, she was shocked to see the mascara and eyeliner smudged under her eyes with black lines running down her cheeks. No wonder they didn’t look at her. Even P.R.s have standards.

Normally she walked up the four flights. Even Mrs. Hornstein, an old lady on the second floor, had been held up at gunpoint in the elevator, and when the guy discovered that she just had a couple quarters wrapped in a handkerchief, he had beaten her up so bad that she had to stay at Medical Center Hospital for three months. Sonny took the elevator.

Her mother was waiting with the door open to their apartment. “Don’t hit me,” Sonny said, trying to get through the door and past her mother.

She slapped Sonny across the face. “You little lying I-don’t-know-what!” she screamed. “I thought you were at school and what were you doing? Wait until your father comes home. This is nothing. Just wait for your father.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Sonny cried, walking backward down the long hallway of the apartment so she wouldn’t get hit from behind. “Really, I didn’t. I’ll tell you the truth. We all decided we would have a party at this girl Crystal’s house. And that’s what we did. I didn’t go to school but nothing bad happened. I swear to God!”

“Don’t swear to no one, you troublemaker. I got another call from your teacher yesterday. So I have to go see her again. Do you think I like to keep being called into your school? No other mother has to do that. Just me.”

“I didn’t do anything bad. All the other girls did it too–”

“Trouble. You’re nothing but trouble. Even when you were little, you were always poking your nose where you shouldn’t. What did I ever do to deserve this?” She slapped Sonny again. But this time, Sonny turned her face and the blow landed on her ear. She cried out in pain. “Now you cry, huh? Why don’t you cry before you cause all this trouble instead of now.” Then she cursed in Polish how she should die of cholera.