Yossi's Goal (4 page)

One day, when Mama and Papa and Sadie were out, Yossi pulled the rolled-up sock out from under his pallet and emptied it onto his blanket. Thirty-two pennies. The cheapest pair of ice skates he could find cost two dollars. Making two cents a day on the papers, plus another one or two cents for lugging the bundles, it would take him at least a month and a half to save up the rest of the money. It was mid-January already. The ice might be gone by then!

With a groan, Yossi put the money back in the sock. So long to wait! He'd just have to figure out another way to make money, that was all. But how?

His stomach growled. He couldn't think on an empty stomach. He wandered into the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat.

As he approached, he heard giggling, then silence, then more giggling. He peered about. There was a small alcove next to the kitchen, where Mama kept the broom and mop and wash bucket. Squeezed into the alcove, flattened against the broom and mop handles, practically standing in the bucket, were Miriam and Daniel. Daniel's arms were around Miriam's waist, Miriam's arms were around Daniel's neck, and they were kissing.

“Yuch!” Yossi shouted. “That is disgusting!”

Miriam and Daniel broke apart, looking startled. Then Miriam smiled mischievously. “What is, Yossi?”

Yossi made a face. “All that…kissing.”

They both laughed. Miriam pulled Daniel's face toward her. “You mean like this, Yossi?” She smacked Daniel on the lips.

Yossi covered his eyes. “Ugh! Don't do that!”

Miriam and Daniel giggled. Ignoring him, they started kissing again, with loud, slurping sounds that Yossi was sure they were making on purpose.

“I mean it, you two! I can't watch. I can't eat. Why don't you get married and get your own place? Do your kissing there!”

Daniel and Miriam broke apart. The teasing was gone from Daniel's face. “Don't you think that's exactly what we want, Yossi?” he said. Miriam stepped forward. Her face was red and her hands were clenched. “Don't you think that's all we long for? To get married and have a place of our own.”

Yossi was stunned—by the misery in Miriam's eyes, the fury on Daniel's face. “Then—why don't you?”

“Because we can't afford it!” Miriam said.

“Because on the miserable wages that thief Steiner pays, I can't support a wife. I can't start a family!” Daniel shouted.

“‘That thief Steiner?'” Yossi repeated. “What do you mean, Daniel? He doesn't steal from us.”

“Yes, he does,” Daniel shot back. “When we spend our lives making him rich—”

“And our pockets are still empty—,” Miriam added.

“And he lives like a king—”

“While we go hungry and cold—”

“I call that stealing!” Daniel said.

Yossi thought about the grand houses he'd seen that Shabbas morning. He thought about Mr. Steiner with his gold watch chain and Max Steiner in his fancy new coat. He thought about himself and his family in their threadbare clothes, trying to stretch their pennies so they could pay the rent each month.

“But…it's not right,” Yossi said.

“Of course it's not right!” Daniel said.

Just then the front door opened and Papa, Mama and Sadie came in, brushing snow from their coats and stamping their boots. “What's all this, then?” Mama looked surprised.

“Yossi wants to know why Daniel and I don't get married and move into our own flat,” Miriam said bitterly.

Sadie sighed. “Money. Always money.”

“It's not that we're not trying to save, Mama!” Daniel said. “It's that the owners don't pay enough. A worker can barely keep body and soul together, let alone make a better life. We need a living wage, not starvation pay!”

At the word “starvation,” Yossi thought of Abie, of how his family was always hungry. Then Yossi thought of Mr. Steiner's well-padded middle.

“
Nu?
” Papa said, coughing. “So what can you do?”

“Organize!” Daniel shouted. “I keep telling you, Avram, it's the only way. The workers have to pull together and demand higher wages.”

“‘Demand,'” Papa repeated with a harsh laugh. “Make demands of Saul Steiner?”

“Then we have to refuse to work until he agrees,” Daniel said.

“Strike?” Mama said, aghast.

“What's a strike?” Yossi asked.

“It's when the workers refuse to work until the owners give them what they want,” Daniel said.

“You'll get your head bashed in!” Mama said.

“You'll get thrown in jail,” Papa added.

“It'll be worth it,” Daniel said.

“Daniel!” Sadie exclaimed.

“Agitation is not the way,” Papa said. He paused, wracked by coughing. “Better we should sit down with Mr. Steiner, talk like reasonable people—”

“Reasonable!” Daniel interrupted him. “Avram, we could talk until we were blue in the face and he'd never listen. All Steiner's interested in—he and the other owners—is profit. You think he'll pay you a higher wage if you ask him nicely? Not if it cuts into his profit.”

“Surely if he understood how badly off the workers are, how hard it is to support a family—,” Sadie began.

“He knows, Mama, he just doesn't care,” Daniel said. “The only way is to
form unions—not just at Steiner's, but at all the sweatshops—and demand higher wages.”

“And better conditions,” Miriam added. “Forcing people to work twelve, fifteen hours a day—it's criminal!”

“Miriam!” Papa said, then went into a spasm of coughing.

Miriam's face turned red but she didn't stop. “Well, it is, Papa! Why do you think you have that cough? It's from the garment dust. But will they put in fans to blow it out? No!”

Yossi looked at his sister in amazement. He'd never heard her speak out like this.

“You're picking up crazy ideas from him,” Papa said to Miriam, pointing at Daniel.

“Crazy? You know what's crazy, Papa? Putting up with it,” Miriam said. “Daniel's right. The owners will keep taking advantage of us unless we get organized and stand up for our rights.”

“My daughter, a socialist,” Mama said, shaking her head.

“What's a socialist?” Yossi said.

“Someone who believes in workers' rights,” Miriam answered.

“Someone who makes trouble,” Papa said. He turned to Daniel. “You know Steiner won't stand for it. You'll lose your job— and then what? You'll have nothing.”

“I have nothing now, Avram,” Daniel said bitterly. “I love your daughter and I want to marry her. We work as hard as we can. We save every penny. And still I can't support her. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

Yossi thought he knew how it made Daniel feel—just the way he'd felt when Max Steiner taunted him.

“And it's going to go on and on, unless we do something about it,” Daniel continued. “I've been talking to workers at the other sweatshops, and they all agree. The owners have to change—and we have to make them.”

“Don't be crazy, Daniel!” Papa said. “It's dangerous, getting mixed up in labor agitation. You'll bring trouble down on all of us!”

The two of them stood nose to nose. “I'll be careful, Avram,” Daniel said, more softly, “but I won't stop struggling—”

Miriam took his hand. “We'll struggle together.”

“And we'll win,” Daniel said.

There was a silence.

“And then you and Miriam can get married and do your kissing somewhere else,” Yossi said, and everyone laughed.

Yossi grinned, glad to have broken the tension. But as he left the room, he wondered what danger Papa was talking about. And he wondered what it would take for Daniel and Miriam to win.

Arm in arm, Yossi, Abie, Benny, Louie and Milton skipped down the street, kicking up little mounds of fresh snow. The Rebbe had been called away to sit with a sick relative, so they had an afternoon free of lessons.

Benny started humming “My Rumania, My Rumania,” a popular Yiddish song, and soon the others joined in, singing loudly. When women on the street wagged their fingers, the boys burst into laughter and sang louder.

They strolled down several streets of tenements, then turned onto a street of shops past Rosen's, the chemist's…
Abramowitz's Dry Goods…Fogelman's Kosher Butcher. They stopped, gazing at the huge joints of kosher meat that hung in the window, turning slowly on strings.

Yossi's mouth watered. “I bet I could eat that whole roast,” he said, pointing to one large piece.

Abie sighed. “Last time I had meat— real brisket, not just scraps—was Rosh Hashanah.”

Four months ago, Yossi thought. Poor Abie. At least Yossi's family wasn't quite so badly off. Once in a while, Mama and Sadie were able to pool their pennies and buy a chicken, or even a piece of meat, for Shabbas dinner.

“Mmmm…can't you just smell it, a beautiful roast, all brown on the outside and pink on the inside?” Louie said.

“And roasted potatoes, crisp and crackling…,” Milton added.

“Oh…,” Abie groaned, “I can taste it.”

Yossi turned away from the window. “Stop! This is torture. Come on, let's get something we
can
afford.”

He led them to a pickled herring cart around the corner. Moishe, a young man with a drooping brown mustache, stood behind the cart, shuffling from one foot to the other and clapping his mittened hands to keep warm. When he saw the boys, he smiled. “Good afternoon, young gentlemen. What can I do for you?”

Two Herrings a Penny
, said the sign.

Yossi hesitated. There were five of them. They had enough money for two servings, but not three. Oh well, he'd go without. “Four herrings, please,” he said.

“Certainly.” Moishe ladeled four small fish onto a piece of parchment paper, then, glancing at the boys, added another to the pile. “Two pennies, please.”

“But—”

“That's all right.” He smiled and the sides of his mustache rose like wings. “One little herring I can spare.”

Yossi paid him, vowing to himself that he'd repay him the extra penny. Moishe, he knew, had two babies at home, and
even a penny made a difference when you had so little.

The boys wolfed down the herrings, licking their fingers. They were leaving when a voice cried, “Yossi Mendelsohn, is that you?”

Yossi turned. A thin young man with pale watery eyes and straw-like brown hair was approaching. “Hello, Jonah,” he said without enthusiasm.

“What are you doing here? Why aren't you at lessons?”

“The Rebbe gave us the afternoon off. What are you doing here?”

Jonah's eyes shifted from side to side. “Oh, just doing an errand for one of the supervisors. They rely on me, you know. Give me special jobs. Run here, run there.” He gave an oily smile. “Well, I'd better get back to work. There's a new shipment of wool coming in today. Very big, very important. But then, you boys wouldn't know about such things.” With a smug expression, he waved goodbye.

“Who's that?” Milton said when he was gone.

“Jonah Fishkin,” Yossi answered.

“Something fishy about
him
,” Louie said, and the others chuckled.

“I don't like that fellow,” Benny said. “He thinks he knows everything.”

Abie frowned. “At Steiner's, he's always hanging around the supervisors, like he's better than the workers.”

“Trying to get in good with Steiner, probably,” Louie said.

“That reminds me,” Yossi said. “How am I going to get back at that rotten son of his?”

They had been making their way north, away from the waterfront, into a better neighborhood. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell pealed, three long rings and one short one.

“Three-thirty,” Milton said. “You know, Max Steiner and his rich friends go to the fancy new Jewish school. They'll be getting off in half an hour. We could ambush them and attack them with snowballs.”

“He deserves worse than a measly snowball,” Yossi grumbled. “But it's better than nothing. Let's go.”

The boys started making their way toward the school. As they walked down an alley behind a grocer's store, a man in a white apron came out the back door, holding a basket. A moment later, a putrid smell hit their nostrils.

“Phew! What's that?” Yossi said.

“Rotten eggs,” the storekeeper replied, frowning. Lifting the basket above a wooden crate full of garbage, he started to upend it.

Yossi's eyes lit up. “Wait! I think we can take those off your hands, sir.”

Abie gaped at him. “Have you lost your mind, Yossi?”

“Good riddance,” the shopkeeper said, handing the basket to Yossi before he went back inside.

The others stared at Yossi. “What on earth do you want with a bunch of rotten eggs?” Louie asked.