“Yuh ain’ gonna fly no maw?” he asked hoping against hope.
“Naw, I’m goin’ down.”
David hoped he would be invited. He wasn’t. “Wy’ntcha comm t’morreh again?” he urged.
“I’m goin’t’ elevent’, I tol’ yuh.”
His answer was like a pang. He was slipping away. He might never see him again! “Wish I had skates!” he said fervently. “Chee! I wish I had skates!” And suddenly a new thought struck him. “Wot time yuh commin’ home? Dont’cha comm home on twelve a’clock an’ eat?”
“Naw. I buys a couple o’ franks on a roll fer a jit.”
The last shred of hope. Leo’s freedom was unattainable. David could feel himself drooping. “So I ain’ gonna see yuh?” he asked miserably.
“Hodda ya wan’ me to know.” Leo had begun climbing down the shed.
“I’ll ged yuh somm cake—” David followed him down. “Big hunks if yuh comm up hea tomorreh.”
“Naw!”
“Can’t I comm witchuh? I c’n walk.”
But his clinging to Leo only tended to make him more unfriendly. “G’wan! I don’ wancher hanging’ aroun’ me. Ye ain’t big enough.”
“Yes I am!”
“Betcha y’ain’t even ten.”
“Sure I am!” He lied eagerly. “I’m goin’ on eleb’n.”
“Well, I’m goin’ on twelve. Ye ain’t got skates anyway.” He opened the roof-door, impatiently. “Better go acrost now, ’cause I’m goin down.” And as he stepped down, “So long!” And abruptly shut the roof-door behind him.”
“So long!” he called through the metal-covered door. “So long, Leo!” And could have wept the next moment. A little while he stood staring at the door, and then mournfully crossed over the roofs and sat down on the box. Without Leo, the roof had suddenly become vacant, had lost its appeal. Nor was sitting on the box comfortable any longer — he could feel its hard edges now, biting into his thighs. But a kind of inertia engendered by loss kept him where he was, and he leaned back broodily against the skylight. Skates. That was the real reason why he had lost Leo — because he lacked them. He could almost see the gulf between himself and Leo widening with Leo’s flying skates. And he had liked Leo so much, even if he was a goy, had liked him better than anyone in the whole block. If only he had a pair of skates! There was very little chance though. A penny a day his mother gave him; that made two on Tuesday; three on Wednesday. It would take forever, and one needed dollars and dollars. If he had a pair of skates he could leave the hated boys on his block behind him; he could go to Leo’s block, to Central Park, as Leo said he did. That park with the trees, where he went with Aunt Bertha, that white museum — Aunt Bertha! Her candy store! She must have skates in her candy store! She might even have an old pair that she would give him for nothing! Why hadn’t he thought of that before? He’d go now. No, he couldn’t go now. There was luncheon and cheder. He’d go to-morrow. Oh, wait till Leo saw him with his skates! He hurried joyfully down the stairs.
IX
WITHOUT telling his mother where he was going he had started out early that morning for Aunt Bertha’s candy store. It had been a long walk, but high hopes had buoyed him up. And now he saw a few blocks away the gilded mortar and pestle above a certain drugstore window. That was Kane Street. His breast began pounding feverishly as he drew near.
What if she didn’t have any skates. No! She must have! He turned the corner, walked east. A few houses and there was the candy store. He’d look into the window first. Jumping up eagerly on the iron scrolls of the cellar railing beside the store window, he pressed his nose against the glass, scrutinized the display. A wild, garish clutter of Indian bonnets, notebooks, pencil boxes, pasteboard females, American flags, uncut strips of battleships and ball players — but no skates for his flitting eyes to light upon. Hope wavered. No, they must be inside. Aunt Bertha would be foolish to keep anything so valuable in the window.
He peered in through a crevice in the chaos. Seated behind the counter, one hand poising a dripping roll above a coffee cup, Aunt Bertha had turned her head toward the rear of the store and was bawling at someone inside. David could hear her voice coming through the doorway. He got down from the rail, sidled around the edge of the window and went in—
“Sluggards! Bedbugs foul!” she shrilled unaware of his entrance. “Esther! Polly! Will you get up! Or shall I spit my lungs out at you! Quick, stinking heifers, you hear me! No?”
Aunt Bertha had changed since David had seen her last. Uncorseted, she looked fatter now, frowsier. The last remnant of tidiness in her appearance had vanished. Her heavy breasts, sagging visibly against her blouse, stained by fruit juice and chocolate, flopped slovenly from side to side. Fibres of her raffia-coarse red hair twined her moist throat. But her face was strangely thin and taut as though a weight where her apron bulged were dragging the skin down. “Wait!” she continued. “Wait till your father comes. Hi! He’ll rend you with his teeth! Stinking sluts, it’s almost nine!” She turned. “Vell?” and recognizing him. “David!” The hectic light in her eyes melted into pleasure. “David! My little bon-bon! You?”
“Yea!”
“Come here!” she spread fat arms like branches. “Let me give you a kiss, my honey-comb! I haven’t seen you in — how long? And Mama, why doesn’t she come? And how is your father?” Her eyes opened fiercely. “Still mad?” She submerged him in a fat embrace that reeked of perspiration flavored with coffee.
“Mama is all right.” He squirmed free. “Papa too.”
“What are you doing here? Did you come alone? All this long way?”
“Yes, I—”
“Want some candy? Ha! Ha! I know you, sly one!” She reached into a case. “Hea, I giff you an pineepple vit’ emmend. Do I speak English better?”
“Yea.” He pocketed them.
“End a liddle suddeh vuddeh?”
“No, I don’t want it.” He answered in Yiddish. For some reason he found himself preferring his aunt’s native speech to English.
“And so early!” She rattled on admiringly. “Not like my two wenches, sluggish turds! And you’re younger than they. If only you were mine instead of— Cattle!” She broke off furiously. “Selfish, mouldering hussies! All they know is to snore and guzzle! I’ll husk them out of bed now, God help me!” But just as she started heavily for the doorway, a man stepped into the store.
“Hello! Hello!” He called loudly. “What are you scurrying off for? Because I came in?”