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Authors: Myles (Mickey) Golde

Albany Park (21 page)

BOOK: Albany Park
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Walking away afterward, she whispered to Howie, “Are these guys your friends?”

“No, they’re just a couple of jerks that hang out around here,” he replied, hustling her down the ramp..

“Well they should watch their language, especially the slob that looks like he needs a bath,” she sneered.

“Look, Babe, what do you expect? I’ve seen how you give guys the eye when they look you over. So don’t complain.”

Pulling her hand away, she quickened the pace to the exit and he followed. She didn’t talk all the way home and when he pulled up to her building, she jumped out and slammed the door without saying goodbye.

Howie called a week after their argument on the stairs and acted like nothing had happened. She started to say something, but he interrupted, telling her he had reservations for the dinner show starring Tony Martin at the Chez Paree and she had to be ready in forty minutes. “Really?” she squealed. “I love him,” and rushed to get dressed.

In the weeks that followed, he remained upbeat and attentive and let her know when he wouldn’t be around for a few days. Weekends, they went to night spots like Club Hollywood and the Silver Frolics and had frequent dinners at Gus and Barneys or downtown spots where a lot of well-known celebrities dined. When they went out with her friends, usually up north in the city, he was charming and everyone seemed to like him. Her mother didn’t warm up to him however; but she did like the way he always complimented her. Mr. Siegal didn’t have much to say, but when he heard him mention that his boss was Paschey Cohen, he shook his head. He had heard about the bookie, and knew that some of his own customers had borrowed money from Cohen at high rates to settle gambling debts. He himself still placed bets with Tim O’Hara, and had borrowed money from him too, but somehow, he had the feeling that it was not the same. There were too many other rumors about Paschey’s business and the people he associated with that could be troublesome.

One Saturday shortly after the start of the New Year, Howie, wearing a black Chesterfield topcoat, was waiting for Shirley in the Siegal parlor. He sat down after shaking hands with Ben, who was reading the paper in his easy chair.

“How’s everything, Mr. Siegal?”

“Fine, Howie, how ‘bout you? Things good in the loan business?”

“Oh yeah, things are good.”

Looking up, Ben with a hand cupping his jaw asked, “Do you specialize in certain types of loans, like mortgages or auto loans, or just what type of loans do you make?”

Howie on the couch still wearing his coat, leaned forward, avoiding the puffy cushion behind him. “We make small, short-term loans to businessmen that don’t have bank connections,” he replied casually. “A lot of our customers are from around here and the Northwest and West Sides. I’m sure you know that Jews aren’t so welcome at the
goyishe
banks. So we try to fill the need. All I know is, business is good and I expect to be a partner in the not-too-distant future.” Ben accepted the answer, nodding as he thought about Howie’s reply and decided he didn’t like where it might lead. Later, he confided in Molly, “being a bookie isn’t such a great job for a young guy who claims he has so much ambition.”

Shirley, by this time, was in her final semester at Von Steuben and appeared happy with him, but Ben remained concerned. He suspected Howie was already talking marriage. He and Molly however, had been saving for years to send Shirley downstate to the University of Illinois, where the two of them hoped she’d meet a college man with a bright future.

On a Sunday morning, the week before Memorial Day, Ben picked up lox and bagels along with a newspaper at Korb’s. He and Molly were having breakfast when Shirley appeared at the kitchen table at eleven in her shorty pajamas..

“Umm, lox and bagels,” she said licking her lips, then filling a cup with coffee and popping a bagel in the toaster.

Molly, handing her a napkin, slid the plate with tomatoes, cucumbers and onions in her direction, saying, “Here, have some cream
cheese too
.”

Gingerly grabbing the hot bagel from the toaster, Shirley busied herself fixing an open-faced sandwich.

Sitting down, she made a short clicking sound with her tongue.. “I gotta tell you something,” she said taking a bite of her sandwich and pausing, “last night, Howie took me to the Empire Room for dinner and asked me to marry him.”

Ben put down the paper and took off his glasses, looking somewhat startled. “Married? What about school?”

“Oh Daddy, I graduate in June.”

Molly, her right hand at her mouth, steadied herself holding onto a chair.

“No, I mean school downstate. Don’t you want to get a degree in design?” Ben said, drawing his lips into a tight line.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t know, maybe getting married is better.”

“Oh, Shirley,” Molly sighed, “we’ve talked and dreamed about you going to college for years. I thought you couldn’t wait.”

“But that was before. Now, I don’t know what I should do. I think I love Howie and I don’t want him to find someone else.”

Ben jumped up. “You think you love him? Look honey, I think you’re being too hasty, making up your mind so quickly. Thinking you love him isn’t enough.”

“I know Daddy, but I’m almost eighteen.”

“Look, Baby, eighteen is very young to get married. Don’t you want to wait awhile? You’ve only known Howie since last summer and now you want to get married,” Ben pleaded. “And how much do you really know about how he earns his living? I’ve heard a few things about the guy he works for that bother me. Don’t you think you should let me try to find out a bit more?”

“I know I’m young and I did really want to find out what it’s like to go to college. I know Doris loved it,” she said, watching her mother’s face crumple.

Ben set his jaw and glared at her.

She returned his look, pursing her lips. ”Look, Daddy, As far as his work, I trust him. I know he works hard and maybe gambles a little, but I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything I’d have to worry about.”

Molly rubbed her eyes while the room became very quiet.

Ben sipped his coffee, watching Shirley. She looked down and nibbled a small bite of her bagel.

Clearing his throat, Ben reached out, covering her hand
with his
.

“Shirley, why don’t you think about this; you don’t have to make a decision this minute. If I were you, though, I think I would want to go downstate. If, after a year, you still want to marry Howie, then it’s okay with me. I’m sure Mom agrees.”

“But what about Howie?” Shirley whined, looking down.

Molly spoke up, “If he loves you, he’ll wait. After all, he’s only a few years older than you and I’m sure he wants you to be happy.”

“Oh Mom, I would like to go to school. Let me think about it.”

The following Wednesday after seeing a movie, Howie parked in front of her building. Sitting next to him Shirley turned his way, tucking her lower lip against her teeth and sighed.

“I know you’re not gonna like this, but I decided this week to go to Champaign for a year,” she mumbled and then looked straight ahead.

“”What?” he shouted. “I don’t believe it! What am I supposed to do while you’re down there playing with all those pansy college boys.”

“It’s only going to be for a year. My folks want me to go and I would like to try it. We can get married next year.”

“Cut this crap out Shirley; we’ve been talking about getting married for months and now you’re springing this on me?”

“Howie! Please listen.”

“Screw that; you know, two can play this game. There’s plenty of other broads that will jump at the chance to marry me,” he said gripping the steering wheel firmly.

Sitting quietly she could see he was seething, ready to explode. Holding her hand up she started to say something and then stopped and waited.

Slamming his hand on the wheel, he wouldn’t look at her.

Shaking her head she opened the door and slowly got out, then leaned back in.

“Please, Howie, we’ve got the whole summer and Champaign is only a couple of hours away. Please, let’s talk tomorrow.”

Gunning the motor, her door slammed shut as he sped away.

 

Chapter 11
 

On a warm Wednesday afternoon in June, Vic, Sam Greenstein and Jim Vogel were lounging on the large landing facing Kimball at the south entrance to the school. The three of them were discussing their plans for the prom that weekend. Jim had asked Esther Leibowitz and Sam was going with Jean Michaelson. Vic, of course, was taking his girlfriend of four months, Darlene Silverman. Vic was going to drive the six of them in Frank’s new red Mercury Coupe and they were all meeting at Esther’s house to take pictures in their tuxedos and gowns. From there, they would go to the prom at the Belmont Hotel.

Sam had taken off his short sleeved sweater, which was folded neatly and set next to him on the wide wall near the stairs leading to the street. Jim and Vic had wet hair from showering after Gym, their last class of
the day
.

Sam scratched his head and scrunched up his face. “Don’t you think going to Chez Paree after the prom is gonna be too expensive?”

“Aw, c’mon, Sam, we talked about this before. You know it’s gonna cost a bundle, but how many times do you graduate?” kidded Jim, running a comb through his hair. “Even a place as fancy as the Chez can’t be more than thirty or thirty-five bucks.”

“And hey Vic,” Sam complained, “are you sure Flo said orchids for the corsages? Aren’t gardenias okay?”

“No,” Vic replied. “Trust me, my sister Flo knows, orchids are the way to go.” He meticulously rolled up the sleeves of his blue oxford cloth shirt, to just below his elbows, and wiped perspiration from his forehead, commenting, “Man, this weather is great. I bet it’s almost eighty degrees. I hope it’s nice for the prom, especially if we go for breakfast at the Boardwalk of the Edgewater Beach Hotel.

Sam, still thinking about money, shook his head, “How much you think the whole night will cost?”

“Hey, Sam, for cryin’ out loud, don’t worry,” Jim teased. “I asked around and everybody agrees that the most it’ll cost is about sixty, but that doesn’t include the tux and flowers.”

From above the stairway a loud bell sounded, signaling the end of a period. Sam winced at the shrill sound. Within a minute, doors opened and kids streamed out, crowding the landing.

Jim slipped off the wide ledge and called out, “c’mon, Sam, enough already. So what if it costs a few bucks? It’s a once in a lifetime deal. Let’s get goin’, I wanta stop for a hamburger at Cooper and Cooper.”

Heading down the stairs, Sam looked at Vic, “Are you sure about the orchids?”

Vic slapped him on the back. “Yeah, I’m sure big spender,” he said laughing.

With a wave, Vic dodged a few cars and headed across the street going west.

The sidewalk on Argyle was almost deserted and the trees above were filled with leaves, after a slow start in late April. To the left was the river and on the right were the stucco and brick bungalows on Bernard that looked unusual in this crowded neighborhood where most streets had only apartment buildings and two-or-three-flats. In front of each home were small lawns with bushes and parkways dotted with large blossoming oaks, elms and evergreens.

He spotted three little boys, in short pants, on the warm day, riding tricycles on the sidewalk. They were screeching and laughing, trying to bump each other as they sped along.

When he reached the bend in the street at Drake, he noticed Shirley Siegal a short distance ahead. He could easily tell it was her because of the unmistakable, slight pigeon-toed walk which made her hips sway in a provocative way. Clutching her books across her chest, she moved slowly down the sidewalk. His first reaction was to turn in another direction. They hadn’t spoken in the three years since their bitter breakup.

But then, without thinking, his pace quickened and he found himself coming up behind her. She hadn’t heard him and kept walking at the same leisurely pace along the deserted sidewalk. He noticed how great she looked, wearing a lightweight, soft grey sweater and charcoal slacks that fit her without a wrinkle. Drawing closer, he saw the curve of her buttocks under the tight fitting pants and couldn’t help smiling as remembered how he always teased her about her cute behind.

He touched her shoulder. Startled, she turned abruptly. Then, seeing him, she smiled, rapidly lowering her glance. Vic returned the smile, softly saying, “Hi”.

As he came alongside, she whispered, “Hi,” looking directly
at him
.

Shirley had blossomed into a beautiful woman. Her brown eyes, accentuated with makeup, sparkled under her short curly hair forming a dark frame to her face. The little bump on her nose was no longer as pronounced but made her appear sexier than ever. He hadn’t been this close to her in a long time and he could feel a rush of color coming to his face.

Vic had matured as well. He was taller and had much broader shoulders, though he remained slim. The cleft in his chin and the dimples, enhanced by the slight shadow of his smoothly shaved face, made him appear years older.

“How are you?” he asked.

She, smiling more brightly, answered, “Good, and what about you?” For a moment they walked in silence, broken when Shirley looked at him and said “God, it’s hard to believe that you keep getting more handsome.”

A barking dog raced toward them, followed by a young blonde boy with a crew cut, pursuing him, trailing a leash. Moving aside, they watched and smiled.

Looking at her again, he laughed, saying “Didn’t I always tell you that you had good taste in men? By the way, you look great too, and in case you want to know, walking behind you, I noticed you still have the best tush of any girl at Von Steuben.”

A quick laugh escaped her lips as her face turned crimson. Walking slower, she bumped into him at her side. Quickly recovering, she looked away, “I hear you have a new girlfriend and really like her. Is it serious?”

“Well, maybe” he replied, “but what about you? I hear you’re going with an older guy who wants to marry you.”

“He treats me like a princess. I know he would do anything to make me happy.”

BOOK: Albany Park
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ads

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