My brother said he liked the name Brad.
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''Brad is that little brass thing on envelopes. Like a paper clip.''
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He must have given it quite a bit of advance thought. "Then Bart," he said. "I want to be called Bart."
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"Rhymes with fart," my father said.
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He was not discouraged. "Bob? Just plain old Bob?"
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Finally they settled on Barry. It didn't sound too ordinary, my mother said, or too gentile. It sounded a little French, a little continental.
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They went downtown to the courthouse the next day after school. My brother told me if I ever called him Beryl again he would pour calamine lotion in my eyes while I was asleep.
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After that, only my brother's best friend, Asher Levandowski, was allowed to call him Beryl, and only in private. Beryl and Asher were both born in August, which accounted, Mother claimed, for their sticky temperaments, her way of saying they were pests. I hated them most of the time. They were boys. They were vulgar. They picked their noses and ate it. They said bad words when no adults were listening, then denied it on their lives. At the movies on Saturday afternoons they waited until there was kissing on the screen, then exploded their popcorn boxes. Worst of all, they played the pinball machines on Georgia Avenue, a known hangout for hoodlums.
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Asher would have liked to change his name, too, but his parents were religiousrecent refugees from Europe. Because the Levandowskis had paid dearly for their heritage, Mother said, they were determined to keep it intact. The Levandowskis made no concessions to the
meshugos
, the crazinesses of "Amerikeh." The result was that Asher behaved as if he were two different people. At home he was obedient, dutiful, and careful. He took piano lessons and was not allowed to read trash like comic books. Asher's house on Friday nights and Saturdays was a dreadfully quiet place even my brother avoided.
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The other Asher was hell-bent on adventure, despite the oversized galoshes, the leather cap with earflaps, the heavy wool mittens, and, of course, the umbrella. Mrs. Levandowski believed that the umbrella was the first bulwark against catching colds. She fastened it to Asher's coat sleeve with a giant safety pin. Later, he carried the large black umbrella hooked over his forearm. It gave him a formal appearance, as if he were about to bow. Like Beryl, Asher wore thick eyeglasses which he broke about once a month. That may have added to their
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