Big Book Of Lesbian Horse Stories (18 page)

BOOK: Big Book Of Lesbian Horse Stories
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Lena redoubled her efforts over the next few days as she prepared for her life with Lily. She begged a worn-out dress for Lily from Minnie, promising to pay her for it as soon as she was earning wages. She stole food from the family's table for Lily. She worked into the night ironing mounds of laundry, hoping to win her mama's and papa's approval with her diligence and obedience. For her part, Lily sorted through the trash from the gutter, selling bits of metal and rags to the rag collectors for pennies, which she used to buy small bags of oats for Johnny Apple, ignoring her own ravenous hunger.
On Saturday, Lena decided, she would tell her parents of her plan. They had seemed more cheerful of late, and would perhaps be receptive. She had told Lily to come before the noon meal, so that she could introduce her as a prospective boarder. If all went well, her parents might even invite Lily to share their meal, and for once Lily would have hot food in her belly.
“Mama, Papa, I have been thinking how I may help our family,” she began as Mama slid a kugel into the oven while Papa pored over the Midrash.
“Yes, my darling, ve too haf been thinking.” Mama nodded with a pleased expression. “Your Papa and me, ve came to America so that you may haf a better life. Ve do not want that you should work in the factories. Your Papa and me, ve do not mind that our fingers haf become gnarled and our backs hunched. Ve do not mind that our health is broken though ve are not yet forty years of age, but for you, ve vant better.”
“But Mama, I would not mind to work in the factories. I have found a place in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, where Minnie works.”
To Lena's dismay, neither Papa nor Mama seemed particularly pleased with her idea.
“You think ve vant that you should become like that Minnie who defies her parents and spends her vages on clothing and the nickelodeon, and says she vill find her own husband?” Papa said reprovingly, closing his book.
“But Papa—” Lena began.
“No, my little Lena, ve haf another plan,” Papa said, barely able to contain his glee.
There was a knock at the door. Lily, already! Lena dashed to open it. She could only hope this part of her plan would work better.
But it was not Lily at the door. Instead, there stood the cruel fruit seller, who had so mysteriously replaced Mr. Karpels! In a daze, Lena stood aside to let him enter, as Papa beamed and said, “Welcome to our home. It is a great happiness upon us that you should join us for our humble meal.”
The fruit seller looked Lena over, like a dairy farmer inspecting a cow, as Papa continued, “Yosef Karpels, may I present to you my daughter, Lena, your future bride, if you vill thus honor our family.”
Lena stood in stunned silence, until Moishe prompted her, “Thank our parents for their goodness, my sister.”
Lena began to respond automatically, “Thank you, Pa—” before her brain started working again. “But you are not Mr. Karpels! What has happened to Mr. Karpels? Why do you now drive his fruit cart?”
Lena's parents looked down in shame as the man laughed and said in a jovial tone, “She is very beautiful, as I was promised, but I was not told that she was such a curious girl.”
“Lena,” Mama said sharply, “is this how you treat the man you are to marry?”
“I do not mind. I like a girl with spirit,” interjected the new Karpels, fingering the whip he always carried. Then he turned to Lena. “In answer to your questions, my uncle, Isaac Karpels, passed away two weeks ago, and now I, Yosef Karpels, own the fruit cart, along with that good-for-nothing horse, Johnny Apple.”
Lena quickly leapt to the defense of her friend. “Johnny Apple is not good-for-nothing! He is the smartest horse in the whole world!”
“My uncle was a sentimental old man,” Karpels replied contemptuously. “That horse destroys more fruit with his foolish tricks than I sell. But I have a strong back and I have gotten myself a pushcart. I will save money on horse feed and I will gain fifteen dollars when I sell the useless beast to the glue factory!”
Lena stood frozen in horror as her father praised, “A smart businessman,
nu?

Just then a timid voice spoke from the doorway. “I have come about a room to be rented?” It was Lily. To Lena, she looked like an angel from paradise in her patched gown, but the three adults stared at her in bewilderment. Karpels spoke first, recognition dawning in his eyes. “You are the ragged girl from the streets, who I have seen sneaking around my horse and stealing my apples! What nonsense is this about renting a room? Be off with you, little thief!”
Lena leaped to Lily's side. “This is Lily, the girl I love. Insult her at your peril!” she cried.
Now Karpels shook with anger. “I pity the poor fellow who marries this
meshugeh
girl!” he shouted as he slammed out of the tiny apartment.
Papa raised his arms up and looked toward the heavens in silent reproach, while Mama wailed, “Oh, Merciful One, what have we done to deserve such a wicked daughter?”
Bewildered and frightened by this unexpected turn of events, Lily crossed herself and murmured a rapid prayer in Russian.
Papa's eyes bulged. “This girl is a Christian!” he gasped.
“And a Russian!” Mama shrieked.
“Haf you forgotten, Lena, vat those villainous cossacks did to our people?” Lena's shocked father demanded.
“My father was stationed on the steppes, far from the Jews,” Lily protested.
“Oh, Creator of the Universe, vat haf I done that mine own flesh and blood should bring a cossack's daughter into our home?” cried Mama.
Now Papa turned to Lily and began, “I vish upon you that you should find yourself living in a mansion with a thousand rooms, and in each room a thousand beds . . .”
Lily smiled at this unexpected friendliness.
“. . . and may you be found dead in every one of those beds, you cossack's daughter!”
Lily reeled at the cruel, yet clever, conclusion to the curse, while Lena leapt to her defense. “This is America, we are not in Russia any longer,” cried Lena. “There are no cossacks in America. Here it does not matter who is Jew and who is Christian! What is important is that Lily is my friend, and we are all Americans!”
Lena's father shook his finger angrily. “Alvays vith these new ideas! So is my daughter now a freethinker? Do you vish to end up like Shmuel?”
Again with Shmuel, Lena thought. Her father continued ranting.
“The great Rabbi Gamaliel said, ‘Do His will as if it were thy will, that He may do thy will as if it were His will.' It is not for a girl to defy this visdom. You try to set the vorld upon its head, acting as if horses and women are equal vith men.”
Horses! Suddenly Lena remembered Johnny Apple and his impending fate—there was no time now for a Talmudic debate! She raced out the door, dragging the frightened Lily behind her. “Come! We must save Johnny Apple!”
It was not difficult for Lily to distract the stable boy while Lena led Johnny Apple out of his stall, but once the trio was on the street, they did not know what to do next. They had no one to turn to, and soon the police would be after the two girls for theft. They must leave the Lower East Side, but to go where? Where could a clever horse who knew some tricks, a disobedient Jewish girl who only wished to study the Talmud, and an orphaned Christian girl who was always hungry find their place in the world?
“Ooof!” Once again, Lena had tripped over the Pretzel Woman. “Does she never go home?” Lena wondered. “Again, I ask your pardon, Pretzel Woman,” she said politely.
The Pretzel Woman's bright eyes, buried deep in her wrinkled face, took in Lily's tears, Lena's defiant air, and the presence of Johnny Apple. She hummed a little Yiddish tune, swaying back and forth, while Johnny tapped his hoof in time. “So!” she said at last. “You did not listen to the Pretzel Woman. You did not keep hidden what should be kept hidden. And so evil has befallen you.”
The girls hung their heads. Lena wondered if perhaps the wisdom of the old Pretzel Woman could help them with their current difficulties. “O Pretzel Woman,” said Lena, “we are three friends who wish only to stay together, though the world tries to drive us apart. Do you have any advice for us?”
The Pretzel Woman's voice took on a tender, crooning tone. “Is it wisdom the girl wants, or information? Wisdom I give you freely, with maybe a stale, two-day-old pretzel.” She pulled a pretzel out from the depths of her shawl, and Lily pounced on it with her usual appetite. “Johnny Apple is a horse with some talents and you girls are a mismatched set that fits together. You must find a place where the strange is ordinary and the ordinary strange.”
Lena and Lily stared blankly at each other, then back at the Pretzel Woman, who spoke again, “Wisdom I give freely, but information will cost you three cents.”
The girls pooled their pennies, and were able to meet the Pretzel Woman's price with a penny to spare. When the money was safely in her hand, the old woman cackled and coughed for some minutes before uttering two words, “Coney Island.”
Coney Island! The two girls stared at each other, as understanding dawned. They had heard of this fabled land of amusements and delights across the waters. Minnie had gone with her factory friends, and Miss Taylor had promised to take the settlement children one day, but neither Lily nor Lena had ever been.
“How will we get there?” queried Lily worriedly. But the Pretzel Woman seemed to have gone to sleep.
Lena thought hard. Minnie had taken a ferry, and Miss Taylor had promised they would ride on the cars, but neither of these would be possible with Johnny Apple.
“We must walk,” she said firmly.
And so began their weary trudge, downtown to the Brooklyn Bridge, then across the bridge and into Brooklyn, always keeping close to the water, for they knew Coney Island was on the shore. Lena led the trio and Lily cheered all their spirits by talking about the good things they would eat in Coney Island. Johnny Apple helped as well, kicking the sailors who stumbled out of waterfront taverns and tried to pinch the girls, and nipping at the boys who jeered, “Whyncha riding yer old nag?” Though it might have eased their own journey, neither girl could bear to ride their weary friend. Soon there were no more houses and they passed only warehouses, and the occasional soap factory. As night fell, these too disappeared, and the road was bordered only by empty fields.
They had fallen silent, each secretly thinking they were hopelessly lost, when Johnny whinnied urgently. The two girls looked up, and saw a distant glow in the sky. Johnny broke into a shambling trot, and the girls ran after him. Soon the glow became the electric lights of an amusement park, and the sounds of music and laughter reached the girls' ears. Looking up, they saw cars racing down the steep slopes of a roller coaster, and heard the delighted screams of the passengers. They passed dance halls and beer gardens, and saw signs promising even more wondrous sights—a village populated entirely by midgets, a girl with a thousand eyes, incubators holding tiny premature babies! Lily's eyes were like saucers as she looked around at the vendors selling chowder, fried clams, and a special sausage on a bun called a red hot. They drifted along with the happy crowds until they came upon beautiful white buildings with towers and minarets outlined in a thousand electric lights, which spelled out the word “Dreamland.”
“We made it, we made it!” they cried, realizing finally that their ordeal was over. The two girls joyfully embraced while Johnny Apple capered about like a colt. The three friends were about to enter Dreamland, but stopped abruptly at a sign that said “Admission 25 cents.” Even in this wonderland, Lena realized, her heart sinking, cold hard cash was still necessary. She wondered if there were shirtwaist factories, or laundries where she and Lily could find work.
“Never mind, Lena,” Lily said gently. “I know we will go to Dreamland, someday.”
Lena knew that if Lily, who hadn't had a solid meal in months, could bear up under the disappointment, she could too. “Well, we still have a penny,” she said. “Here! Why don't you buy yourself one of those red hots?”
“Oh Lena, I could not spend our last penny,” Lily replied.
Lena surveyed her beloved and said candidly, “My beautiful Lily, you are as thin as a dried-up herring. Nothing could please me more than to see you grow as plump and round as a delicious piece of gefilte fish. Now go, buy the red hot.”
Lena's talk of food had left Lily unable to resist any longer. She darted away to the nearest stand, and while she paid for her purchase, Lena and Johnny idly watched a nearby sideshow.
“See Sammy the Sword Swallower, who has entertained the crowned heads of Europe. Watch him swallow rapiers, knives, and sabres of all description . . .” The man's patter went on, and he held back the tent flap to display the sword swallower, a tall handsome man in an embroidered cape, holding up a small sword. Then—
“Uncle Shmuel!” Lena screamed.

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