East Side Stories:Tales of Jewish Life in the Lower East Side of New York in the 1930's (13 page)

Yeah, sure, he had had a few fights in school, a few skirmishes, a few minor battles, but he had known that those fights were not because he was a Jew. Those times he had also been afraid but that fear had been different, there hadn’t been that something additional, something similar to what had just occurred, something of terrible helplessness.

This time he had shown them, hadn’t he? He sighed and walked on, congratulating himself. Glancing at his friends at his side, a small smile appeared on his lips. Disregarding his aches and pains, he said, “We sure were in a fight, weren’t we?” His friends began to laugh softly. But now, Eddie, thinking of his mother’s words, of his promise to her, said, “You know something? If my mother finds out about it, she’ll kill me, she sure as hell will kill me.”

 GOLDIE’S ONCE ONLY COUSINS

That year, somehow, his father had scraped up enough money to buy new clothing for the family. Danny didn’t know how his father had done it, maybe he had gone to his Old Country society here in New York where they loaned out money, maybe there had magically materialized a little more work at his shop than before. Anyway, that day after his father finished his work, the three of them, his mother, his father and Danny would be going out to the stores to buy him a suit for the holidays.

Danny couldn’t wait. Not for three years had he had a new suit, last year he had gotten a hand-me-down, something one of his cousins had worn until it had become too small for him. Danny’s mother had altered it, she had done a good job but even with her expert sewing, the thread hiding the frays here and there, nothing could hide the worn condition of the cloth itself, the shine at the seat of the pants and at the elbows of the jacket.

Even before he had gotten it, it had been an old suit. It had been a hand-me-down even then when his cousin had been given it, it had been altered even then, stitched and sewn a number of times and when it had come to him, he, Danny, had hated it from the start. Any time that he had worn it he had considered it his bosom enemy.

It had been decided that while he and his parents would go out shopping for the suit, his younger brother and sister would stay at home. Their time for shopping would come another day soon, Danny’s suit would be the most expensive item of all the children’s clothing, therefore the first to be bought.

As he was walking home from school with some of the guys, Danny told them, “I’m going to get a suit today.”

“Yeah?” Max said. “A suit, a real suit? For real? You mean it? What kind?”

“What kind do you think?” Izzy said. “A suit. A jacket, pants and a vest. A suit.”

“Come to where I work,” Goldie said. He was going to his house where he would have something to eat before he would go to his after-school job. “I’ll get you a good price.”

Goldie had found work with one of the small men’s suit and coat stores that, beginning at Clinton Street lined Stanton Street down past Suffolk and Norfolk Streets. Fifteen now, big for his age, with those huge hands, he had gone to one store asking for work, the owner of the suit store had glanced at Goldie’s powerful hands, at the size of him.

He told Goldie to remain in the middle of the store, while the owner had gone to his partner in the rear somewhere, where they had held a muted conversation, their heads nodding as they spoke, both of them occasionally casting quick glances at Goldie who stood there, motionless, waiting.

The first owner of the store had returned to Goldie, offered him a job standing outside the store. He had said, “You got to pull them in, you understand? Somebody stops in front of the store, somebody looks at the suits in the window, you go over, you say, Mister, they got good suits here, good bargains.” The owner had paused for a moment, then added “You hear that? What’s your name?” Goldie had answered. The man had looked squarely at Goldie and said, “You take them by the arm, so,” he had put his hand around Goldie’s upper arm and had begun to lead him deeper into the store, “and you bring him in. You don’t hurt him, God forbid, you hear that? Just, a polite boy, that’s what you are. Polite. I can see that you are, and then you tell them about the cheap prices like a good friend, you bring them in here to us. That’s the job.” While he had been talking, now and then, the owner had been staring at Goldie’s large hands. “You want the job? You got it.”

Before entering the store to ask for work Goldie had noticed the man outside, waiting, the man whose job obviously was the one being offered. Goldie had momentarily wavered in his decision but then had accepted the job. Goldie had said to the owner, “That’s the job? I thought there might be something else, like running errands, delivering things maybe. A job like that.”

“That’s the job,” the owner had said. “Like I said, a puller-inner.” He had come closer to Goldie and asked, “What’re you waiting for? It’s a good job, no?”

Afterwards, the other outside man had disappeared. Goldie had been working there for about a month, had become practiced at it, his huge hands had learned how to hold a prospective customer’s arm gently enough, yet firmly enough to lead the man into the store where one of the owners stood waiting for him.

And now, as they walked from school, Danny said to Goldie, “They got nice suits there? Not too much money?”

“Plenty of suits. You’ll get a good price, I’ll see to that,” Goldie said. “Come there, I’ll be there. I’ll tell the boss you’re my cousin, to give you a good price. But,” he said as he stopped on the sidewalk and all of them stopped along with him, “don’t take the blue suit with the purple color in it. It’s a dog.” Danny gave his friend Goldie a serious look as Goldie said, “They got it real cheap, they thought they could get rid of it fast. But nobody wants to buy it. I think it’s your size, maybe a little bigger but they’ll cut it down for you. They’ll try to make you buy it. Don’t. But if you do,” he shrugged, “don’t give them more than maybe eight dollars. They’ll ask for eighteen, twenty.”

Danny nodded. “And the other suits?” he asked.

“They’ll ask eighteen, twenty, they don’t care what they ask. That’s where they start. Tell your father to bargain hard, they’ll sell at fourteen.” Danny began to smile as Goldie said, “But don’t forget that we’re cousins. Right?”

“Right. We’ll be there. Thanks,” Danny said.

They parted. There in his house, Danny did his homework while he waited for his father, knowing that his father wouldn’t be home this early. Finished with his homework, he told his mother he was going downstairs. When he was outside, in the street, he stood on the stoop of the tenement, waiting for his father.

To do something he walked around the neighborhood. None of the guys were around, he stopped at the candy store and bought a frozen twist for a penny, the candy stiff, hard with cold. He bit off a chunk with effort, it felt good as the chocolate slowly melted in his mouth. He passed the fruit and vegetable store where the red-headed girl he silently liked to watch worked after school alongside her mother and father. She wasn’t there. He shook his head sadly to himself in disappointment, returned to the stoop of his house. And waited. Some of the other tenants of the house pushed past him to enter the building, they said something to him, he said something polite to them, he waited.

He went up to his flat. There he sat at the kitchen table while his mother was busy cooking food, the good food odors encircled him and made him hungry. Busy with her preparations, without looking at him, his mother said, “Poppa will come, he’ll come, don’t worry.”

“Who’s worrying?” Danny said.

His brother and sister were there, he could hear their voices in the bedroom, they were playing a game. He looked at the Ingersoll alarm clock ticking loudly away on the kitchen shelf. He arose, went to the kitchen window, his hands jammed into his pants pockets while he looked out into the yard below. It was darker outside now. He didn’t want to look at the clock, time seemed not to move, however his head, as if belonging to somebody else, turned slowly and looked at its dial.

His father finally arrived. “Eat sopper, fast,” he said to all of them. “We got to go out, get Danny a new suit. Tomorrow,” he said to the younger children, “we will buy things for you.”

Their meal finished, the dishes piled in the sink, as the three of them were leaving the other two children, Danny’s mother said to them, “Don’t do nothing wrong, we’ll be back soon. Don’t open the door to nobody. Do your homework. You hear? Be good.”

Danny’s mother, his father and he left. They were in the street, walking quickly towards Stanton Street.

Danny had told his parents about the place where Goldie worked, that Goldie was negotiating a good deal with his boss for them.

“We’re cousins, hah? Goldie, he’s a good boy,” his father said nodding his approval as they walked down Stanton Street. “What we’ll do is first go to a couple other stores.” He put up his hands as Danny began to protest. “Just to see what they ask this year. But we’ll buy at Goldie’s place.”

“Listen to your poppa,” his mother said. “You’ll get a suit, but poppa’s got to know what everybody else is asking. Just to be sure. He don’t want to pay too much.”

“But Goldie said he would speak to his boss,” Danny said.

They went on, passed Clinton Street. They stopped at one clothing store, entered without being pulled in by the man who was leaning on the wall near the doorway. They spent over twenty minutes with Danny being jacketed, the owner talking without stopping as his hands patted the wrinkled places in the jacket into smoothness.

They left, the owner called after them, “Mister, missus, it’s a fine suit. Listen to me. Come back—” But they were on their way to another store where they wasted more time.

Now, away from the second store at last, Danny’s father said, “So now we go to Goldie’s store.”

They passed three other clothing stores, the outside men calling to them, their phrases attempting to lure them. As they approached the store where Goldie worked Danny could see him standing outside, surveying the sidewalk, looking for a prospective customer. The three of them stopped in front of the store as Danny’s father glanced at the display in the window.

Goldie had seen them. “Come on in,” he said softly. His hand crept out and circled Danny’s father’s arm. Danny touched Goldie’s arm and when Goldie looked at him, Danny shook his head as he pointed to Goldie’s hand on his father’s arm. “Oh! I forgot!” Goldie said as his hand dropped away from the older man’s arm. “Listen,” he said, “I talked to the boss. He’ll give you a low price.”

“What’s low?” Danny’s father asked.

“It depends,” Goldie said. “You know, you could buy a good suit, you could buy a better suit, or you could buy the best suit.”

“A suit that’s good and
billig,
cheap,” Danny’s father said.

“Go on in,” Goldie said, “I’ll go in with you.”

They entered the store, both sides lined with recessed racks of clothing, a long mirror on each wall.

Goldie introduced them to his boss, a short, bald-headed man who said as he appraised them, “So, this is the cousins.” Goldie nodded. Danny looked away pretending to gaze at one of the suits in the rack and the man was saying, “We’ll treat them good, Goldie, don’t you worry. They came to the right place.” He turned to Danny’s father and asked, “A suit for you?”

“No. It’s for the boy.”

“Aha!” the man said in reply. He glanced at Goldie, shooed him away with a quick head motion. Goldie left them to return to his station outside. The owner led them to the middle of the store as he was saying, “The best suits.” He studied Danny and said, “Let’s try on a suit.”

His hand reached out, lifted a jacket from a wooden hanger in the rack and in the yellow light of the store Danny saw it was the blue suit with its strong purple hue that Goldie had mentioned.

“No, no,” Danny said. “I don’t want that suit.”

“It’s just for size,” the owner said. “To see how it fits.” Danny began to protest once more and he looked up at his father who nodded silently. The owner helped Danny into the garment, pulled down sharply on its lower back, the wrinkles at the shoulders disappeared. “Ah! A nice suit,” he said as he looked into Danny’s father’s face, then his gaze went to Danny’s mother. “Like it was made for him.”

“I don’t want it,” Danny said.

“He don’t want it,” the owner said to nobody shrugging his shoulders. And to Danny’s father, he said, “And you, mister, what do you think?” Danny’s father stepped away, stopped, as he studied the jacket. The owner was saying, “A fine suit, yes? You, mama, it’s a nice suit? Something special, fits the boy like a tailor took his measure, you can believe me.”

Danny looked up at his father, his eyes pleading, as he said, “Let’s try another suit.”

“You’re missing a bargain,” the owner said. “Sixteen dollars. And only because you’re Goldie’s cousin.”

“Let’s see another suit,” Danny’s father said. “They’re all bargains, ain’t they?”

“Sure,” the man said as he reached into the rack for a gray jacket. “They’re all bargains, that’s all I sell, but there are suits and there are suits. This one cost a little more. Twenty dollars.” He waited for a reply from Danny’s father, there was none. With a silent shrug, the owner removed the first jacket, worked Danny into the gray one. “See,” he said. “A diamond.” He was watching Danny’s father’s face carefully, and sidled up to him he said in a confidential tone of voice, “Believe me, they’re both good. But that blue suit is a real bargain. You won’t get that suit no place else for less than twenty-three dollars, believe me.”

Danny had listened in to the conversation and as much as he wanted a new suit, as much as he needed one, he said, “I don’t want that suit. I won’t wear it. No.”

The owner said to Danny’s father, “You got yourself a boy with a mind of his own.” And turning to Danny, he said, “But poppa pays for the suit, you understand that?”

Danny’s father said, “Let’s try on another suit. A brown one.”

The man removed the gray jacket from Danny then reached into the rack. When Danny was fitted with the brown jacket the store owner said with a smile to all of them, “A beautiful suit, wonderful. Twenty dollars, worth fifty, sixty, maybe more. But that blue suit fits the boy, a marvelous fit and it’s
billig vee borscht,
cheap.”