Instead by Norma Shainin

Author:Norma Shainin [Shainin, Norma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Above Your Station Press
Published: 2014-02-10T06:00:00+00:00

13

A rigid grid, defined by adult prejudice, was superimposed on the civic pattern of avenues and streets of the old neighborhood. Blacks were exiled in two asbestos-shingled multi-family houses where 50th Avenue swerved to sever 61st Street. The attached brick homes of Czechs, Germans, Italians and other Middle Europeans jostled each other with grudging familiarity on the street’s upper end. Jews, of whatever nationality, inhabited the lower. Despite parental warnings, the children, on their skates, ranged defiantly over the lines.

Tessa still bore an indentation at her temple; the boy had lobbed the rock from the recesses of the apartment yard. Sabine complained, and all parties were brought face to face in the principal’s office. Even the rhyme about the pimple in Mrs. Kelly’s belly, repeated over and over in Tessa’s head, did nothing to diminish the woman’s authority. Or her own guilt at having muttered the obscenity, which instigated the attack. In the end, it came down to Tessa’s word against the boy’s. When each child was reprimanded in turn, Gus was indignant; there must have been provocation. It was inconceivable that both versions of the truth be given equal weight.

Tessa was less brave when running past the last of the houses on 61st Street to get to the candy store on the corner, afraid of catching something, afraid of being caught. This was where Pearl Mother lived. On a block peopled with exotic faces, hers startled, dark hair pulled back fiercely to reveal ears like tiny shells.

The widow, Mrs. Perlmutter, craved anonymity. Her house was overgrown with vegetation. Vines encircled the windows, the front door barricaded behind two dense yew bushes. The cracks in the sidewalk out front sprouted weeds. Cats preened themselves on the stoop, but Pearl Mother was never seen tending to them or watering the plants which thrived in the heat of summer. Even in winter, heat seemed to come from that house.

On the north side, the bricks were crumbling under the work of the ivy. A narrow alley ran along the side and back of the row of houses, defined by a steep wall: the children’s escape route. From two small windows on this exposed side, Tessa imagined Pearl Mother observed them at their play in the empty lot, which was a dumping ground and a good place to explore, all the more inviting by its proximity to danger.

The vacant lot was full of cats, noisy and complaining. No one ever petted them and they got booted if they came too close. Wolfie tied the feet of one loosely to the end of a tree branch, then bent the limb and let it go like a catapult, sending the creature flying; he wanted to see if it would land on its feet. Tessa watched her cousin intently after that; she believed you were always punished for an unkind act. For disobedience. Her mother had warned her about sneaking to the candy store before dinner.

“If you do,” she predicted, “you’ll get sick.”

Tessa threw up the ice

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