“Wotta you care!” he defied her. “We’ gonna be fiuhmen.”
“Yuh can’t!”
“No?” Yussie inquired angrily, “Why can’ we?”
“Cause yuh can’t, dat’s w’y! Cause yu’ll scratch op all de foinichuh.”
“We won’ scratch nuttin’!” stormed Yussie whirling the newspaper about in frustration. “We gonna play.”
“Yuh can’t!”
“We will!”
“I’ll give yuh in a minute,” she advanced threateningly.
“Aa! Wodda yuh wan’ us tuh play?”
“Yuh c’n play lottos.”
“I don’ wanna play lottos,” he whined.
“Den play school den.”
“I don’ wanna play school.”
“Den don’ play nuttin!” she said with finality.
A large bubble of saliva swelled from Yussie’s lips as he squeezed his face down to blubber. “I’ll tell mama on you!”
“Tell! She’ll give yuh a smack!” She whirled threateningly on David. “Wadda you wanna play?”
“I don’ know,” he drew back.
“Doncha know no games?” she fumed.
“I–I know tag an’ I know, I know hide an’ gussee’.”
Yussie revived. “Let’s play hide an’ gussee’.”
“No!”
“You too!” he coaxed desperately. “C’mon, you too.”
Annie thought it over.
“C’mon I’ll be it!” And immediately, he leaned his face against the edge of a bureau and began counting. “G’wan hide!” he broke off.
“Wait!” shrilled Annie, hopping off. “Count twenny!”
David scurried behind the arm chair.
He was found last and accordingly was “it” next. In a little while the game grew very exciting. Since David was somewhat unfamiliar with the arrangement of the house, it chanced that several times he hid with Yussie when Annie was it and with Annie when Yussie was it. They had crouched together in barricaded corners and behind the bedroom door.
However, just as the game was reaching its greatest pitch, Mrs. Mink’s voice suddenly called out from the kitchen.
“Yussele! Yussele, my treasure, come here!”
“Aa!” from somewhere came Yussie’s exasperated bleat.
David, who was “it” at the time, stopped counting and turned around.
“Yussie!” Mrs. Mink cried again, but this time shriller.
“Can’t do nuttin’,” complained Yussie, crawling out from under the bureau. “Waddayuh want?” he bellowed.
“Come here. I want you to go down stairs for a minute.”
Annie, evidently aware that the game was over for the time being, came out of the adjoining bedroom. “He has to go down?”
“Yea,” diffidently. “Fuh bread.”
“Den we can’t play.”
“No. I’m gonna go back tuh my modder.”
“Stay hea,” she commanded, “We gonna play. Waid’ll Yussie comes back.”
The voices from the kitchen indicated that Yussie had been persuaded. He reappeared, dressed in coat and hat. “I’m goin’ down,” he announced, and went out again. An uncomfortable pause ensued.
“We can’t play till he comes back,” David reminded her.
“Yes, we can.”
“Wot?”
“Wotcha want.”
“I don’t know wot.”
“Yuh know wot.”
“Wot?”
“Yuh know,” she said mysteriously.
That was the game then. David congratulated himself on having discovered its rules so quickly.
“Yea, I know,” he answered in the same tone of mystery.
“Yea?” she peered at him eagerly.
“Yea!” he peered at her in the same way.
“Yuh wanna?”
“Yea!”
“Yuh wanna den?”
“Yea, I wanna.” It was the easiest game he had ever played. Annie was not so frightening after all.
“W’ea?”
“W’ea?” he repeated.
“In the bedroom,” she whispered.
But she was really going!
“C’mon,” she motioned, tittering.
He followed. This was puzzling.
She shut the door: he stood bewildered in the gloom.
“C’mon,” she took his hand. “I’ll show yuh.”
He could hear her groping in the dark. The sound of an unseen door opening. The closet door.
“In hea,” she whispered.
What was she going to do? His heart began to race.
She drew him in, shut the door. Darkness, immense and stale, the reek of moth balls threading it.
Her breathing in the narrow space was loud as a gust, swooping down and down again. His heart throbbed in his ears. She moved toward him, nudged him gently with the iron slat of her brace. He was frightened. Before the pressure of her body, he retreated slightly. Something rolled beneath his feet. What? He knew instantly, and recoiled in disgust — the trap!
“Sh!” she warned. “Take me aroun’.” She groped for his hands.
He put his arms about her.
“Now let’s kiss.”
His lips touched hers, a muddy spot in vast darkness.
“How d’you play bad?” she asked.
“Bad? I don’ know,” he quavered.
“Yuh wan’ me to show how I?”
He was silent, terrified.
“Yuh must ask me,” she said. “G’wan ask me.”
“Wot?”
“Yuh must say, Yuh wanna play bad? Say it!”
He trembled. “Yuh wanna play bad?
“Now, you said it,” she whispered. “Don’ forget, you said it.”
By the emphasis of her words, David knew he had crossed some awful threshold.
“Will yuh tell?”
“No,” he answered weakly. The guilt was his.
“Yuh swear?”
“I swear.”
“Yuh know w’ea babies comm from?”
“N-no.”
“From de knish.”
— Knish?
“Between de legs. Who puts id in is de poppa. De poppa’s god de petzel. Yaw de poppa.” She giggled stealthily and took his hand. He could feel her guiding it under her dress, then through a pocket-like flap. Her skin under his palm. Revolted, he drew back.
“Yuh must!” she insisted, tugging his hand. “Yuh ast me!”
“No!”
“Put yuh han’ in my knish,” she coaxed. “Jus’ once.”
“No!”
“I’ll hol’ yuh petzel.” She reached down.
“No!” His flesh was crawling.
“Den take me ’round again.”
“No! No! Lemme oud!” he pushed her away.
“Waid. Yussie’ll t’ink we’re hidin’.”
“No! I don’ wanna!” He had raised his voice to a shout.
“So go!” she gave him an angry push.
But David had already opened the door and was out.
She grabbed him as he crossed the bedroom. “If you tell!” she whispered venomously. “W’ea yuh goin’?”
“I’m goin tuh my mamma!”
“Stay hea! I’ll kill yuh, yuh go inside!” She shook him.
He wanted to cry.
“An’ don’ cry,” she warned fiercely, and then strove desperately to engage him, “Stay hea an’ I’ll tell yuh a story. I’ll let yuh play fiuhman. Yuh c’n have a hat. Yuh c’n climb on de foinichuh. Stay hea!”
He stood still, watching her rigidly, half hypnotized by her fierce, frightened eyes. The outer door was opened. Yussie’s voice in the kitchen.
A moment later, he came in, breathlessly stripping off his coat.
“I god a penny,” he crowed.
“Yuh c’n play fiuhman, if yuh wan’,” she said severely.
“No foolin’? Yeh? H’ray! C’mon, Davy!”
But David held back. “I don’ wanna play.”
“C’mon,” Yussie grabbed a sheet of newspaper and thrust it into his hands. “We mus’ make a hat.”
“G’wan make a hat,” commanded Annie.
Cowed and almost sniffling, David began folding the paper into a hat.