Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr (27 page)

BOOK: Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr
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Ada opened the window. The air was still and warm.
She smiled and looked at the trees; the old ones, tall, big and
strong; the young ones small, springy, hopeful; sunshine lighting the
new leaves and buds. Even the budding leaves on the hedges and the
young thin grass and dandelion sprouts were alive with sunshine. O,
it is so lovely. And Ada praised god, the being and creator of the
universe who brought forth the spring with the warmth of his sun.

She leaned out the window, her favorite window. From
it the factory and the empty lots and junkyards were not visible; she
could see only the landscaping and the playground. And everything was
coming to life and it was warm with sunshine. There were dozens of
shades of green and now that spring was really here it would get
greener and life would multiply on the earth and the birds would be
more plentiful and their song would wake her in the mornings. All
would be beautiful. She watched the birds hopping on the ground,
flying to the tree limbs still thin but soon to be thick and heavy
with green leaves. Yes, the first warm day of the year. She breathed
deeply. Yes, it is warm. The first warm day of the year. There were a
few other days when the sun had shone and the air had been warm, but
there was always the last of the winter winds to chill it or rain to
wet it. But not so today. The long winter was over. The long cold
bitter winter when all you could do was walk to the store and back to
the apartment . . . back to the apartment to sit and stare out the
window and wait . . . wait for a day such as this. There were a few
days—yes a few, not many— when she had been able to sit on the
bench, but even though the winds were still and the sun bright she
could only sit downstairs for a few minutes and then, though she had
bundled herself well in sweaters, gloves, scarf, and coat and sat
where the sun was shining brightest, a chill would seep through her
clothing and she would have to go upstairs. And even with the sun
bright you couldnt really feel it, not really feel it as you should,
as the sun is supposed to light your body and warm it through right
to your heart. No, you could feel it only a little on your face. And,
there was never anyone to talk to in the winter. No one came and sat.
Not even for a few minutes. And too, the winters are so long. And
lonely. All alone in her 3 rooms filled with furniture, the relics
saved from the old days, sitting by the window watching the bare tree
limbs shiver in the wind; the birds searching the frozen, bare
ground; people walking with their backs turned to the wind and the
whole world with their backs to her. In the winter everyones hate was
bare if you looked. She saw hate in the icicles that hung from her
window; she saw it in the dirty slush on the streets; she heard it in
the hail that scratched her window and bit her face; she could see it
in the lowered heads hurrying to warm homes . . . yes their heads
were lowered away from Ada and Ada beat her breast and pulled her
hair yelling to the Lord God Jehovah to have pity and be merciful and
she scratched her face until her fingernails filled with flesh and
blood dribbled down her cheeks, beating her head against her window
until her head was bruised and small droplets of thin blood smeared
with the moisture on her wailing wall, her arms still raised in
supplication to Jehovah asking why she was being punished, begging
mercy, asking why the people turned against her, beating her breast
and begging mercy from her God who delivered the Tablets unto Moses
and guided his children across the burning desert; the wrathful God
who parted the Red Sea for the chosen people and drowned the pursuing
armies in its turbulent waters; pleading with the revengeful God who
delivered a pestilence unto the Pharaoh and the children of Israel
when they turned their backs to him . . . O God have mercy . . . and
Ada stood in front of her wailing wall looking at heaven through the
frost covered glass smeared with her blood, praying to the Father as
did the trees with their bared limbs raised to heaven; and she beat
her breast and pulled her hair and tore the flesh from her cheeks and
banged her head, and she would fall against her window weeping,
sobbing, slowly sinking, sinking to her knees muttering . . . and Ada
would lie on the floor sobbing, crying, bleeding . . . then, after a
time, sleep. When she awoke she fasted for 24 hours, sitting among
her relics, reciting ancient prayers aloud, rocking back and forth in
her chair as she prayed. At the end of the 24 hours she fixed a cup
of broth and stood in front of her window looking at the leafless
trees and frozen earth, ignoring the concrete, the cars that passed,
hearing only the voice of God and thinking only of the warm days to
come. For 2 more days, 3 days in all, her face remained unwashed and
she stayed within her apartment, drinking only 1 cup of broth each
day, praying, looking out the window, walking through her rooms, back
and forth, conscious of the stiffness of the dried wounds on her
face, looking in the mirror at the scabs and gently touching them
with the tips of her fingers. Then at the end of the third day she
would wash her face and eat a meal and go to the store and buy the
few things she needed, smiling at the people, asking the clerk how he
was and telling him to keep well and take care.

But winter was over and now she could sit on a bench
and feel the sun, watch the birds, the children playing, and perhaps
someone would sit and talk with her.

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Vinnie and Mary would still be unmarried if they
hadnt met. But they finally did, when he was 40 and she was 35, and
were married and both families were joyous. As soon as they were
alone the first night Vinnie dragged Mary to bed and pounced on her,
shaking the bed, the chest of drawers, the picture of the Blessed
Mother over the bed, until her stomach was so sore she couldnt move,
but could only lie on her back groaning and SCBEAMING AT HIM TO STOP.
But Vinnie continued to bangaway, slobbering at the mouth and YELLING
THAT SHE WAS HIS WIFE AND THEY CONTINUED TO BOUNCE ON THE BED (the
Blessed Mother shaking) BANGING, BANGING, BANGING AND YELLING. 5
years later they had two kids and were still yelling. The kids had
been sitting up in the crib yelling for half an hour before Vinnie
and Mary got up. Mary rolled to the side of the bed and YELLED TO THE
KIDS TO SHATUUUUUP! WHATS THEMATTA? VINNIE SLAPPED HER BACK AND TOLD
HER TA FIX A BOTTLE AND STOP YELLIN, then sat on the side of the bed
scratching his head. They both got up and stood facing each other,
scratching, THE KIDS STILL YELLING. GO ON. FIX THE BOTTLE. IYAM.
IYAM. WHATS THE MATTA YOU GOTTA YELL? WHATTAYAMEAN YELL? FIX THE
BOTTLE. AW SHATUP. Mary stepped into her slippers and slopped out to
the kitchen and fixed the bottle, standing over the stove waiting for
it to heat, scratching her belly and armpits. She went back to the
bedroom to get dressed after giving the baby the bottle, but when she
took her nightgown off Vinnie came over and slapped her tits back and
forth. DEY HANG TA YAKNEES. She pushed him away. GOWAY STUPID. He
reached down and pulled her pubic hair, WHATTA BUSH. She shoved him
away, YA CRAZY. YA NO GOOD, and grabbed her clothes and went to the
bathroom to dress, closing and locking the door. Vinnie dressed and
went to see the kids. He looked down at them and smiled and pinched
their cheeks. YA DRINK THE BOTTLE, EH? THATS GOOD. They blinked, the
baby continuing to suck on the nipple of his bottle. THATS A GOOD
KIDS, pinching them again before leaving the room. HEY, HURRYUP, EH?
I GOTTA GO THE BATHROOM. WHATTZAMATTA, YAIN A HURRY? SHADUP AND
HURRY, YEAH? Vinnie paced up and down, going out to the kitchen, back
to the kids room, then pounded on the bathroom door. COMEON, COMEON.
HURRYUP, YEAH? WHATS YAHURRY? WAIT, slowly putting her clothes on
then slowly filling the sink with water. Vinnie banged with both
fists on the door. FA KRISTS SAKE OPEN THE DOOR. I GOTTA PISS. GAWAY.
WHY DONTYA DRESS IN THE BEDROOM? CAUSE YA BODDA ME. GOWAY, YEAH?
Vinnie punched and kicked the door. YA DIRTY BITCH. He turned from
the door and started pacing again, holding his crotch, walking faster
and faster, jumping up and down. I CANT WAIT. OPEN THE DOOR. GO WAY.
He punched the door again. I/LL KILLYA WHEN YA COME OUT, turning once
more from the door and going to the bedroom. He opened the window and
urinated, the stream hitting the open window of the bedroom below,
splashing off the open window and onto the baby in the crib. Mrs.
Jones stared for a moment, then called her husband and told him about
the water coming from upstairs and splashing on the baby. I/ll go see
about it. It must be those crazy ones upstairs. Nobody elsed do that.
He marched out of the apartment and up the stairs. Mary finally
opened the door and walked slowly from the bathroom. IM FINISHED. GO
ON. I TOUGHT YA WAS IN A HURRY. GO AHEAD, PISS. Vinnie slapped her on
the head. WHATZAMATTA, YA CRAZY BITCH. YA STUPID A SOMETHIN? EH? She
slapped him back. WHO YA TINK YA HITTIN YA MOUNTIN WOP. He swung and
missed and SCREAMED AT HER and Mr. Jones pounded on the door and Mary
YELLED TO VINNIE TA SHADUUUUUUP and she opened the door and Mr. Jones
wanted to know what was the idea of pouring water out the window, it
went all over his baby, and Mary shrugged her shoulders and said
WHAAAA? WHA WATTA? WHA YA TALKIN ABOUT? and Mr. Jones said you know
what Im talking about, and the baby finished his bottle and threw it
out of the crib and both kids started yellin again and MARY YELLED TO
VINNIE TA SHAD THE KIDS UP AND VINNIE YELLED HE WAS GETTIN DRESSED,
and Mary turned back to Mr. Jones when he tapped her on the shoulder
and said, well? and she said WHAAA? AND YELLED AT THE KIDS TA
SHADUUUUUP and Vinnie went to the kids room, WHATZAMATTA? WHY YA CRY,
EH? and picked the kids up and Mary told Mr. Jones SHE DIDNT KNOW
NOTHIN ABOUT NO WATTA OUT THE WINDOW and he threw his arms up in the
air and Mary turned and told the kids JUST A MINUTE, YEAH? and Mr.
Jones said dont let it happen again or hed get the cops and Mary
shrugged and let the door close and the kids still YELLED AND VINNIE
TOLD THEM TO BE QUIET. MARY, TAKE CAREA THE KIDS, YEAH? and she
changed them and Vinnie went to the bathroom to wash and YELLED OUT
TO MARY TA FIX BREAKFAST AND SHE SAID TA HOLD HIS WATTA and she
finished with the kids and they ran back to their room to get some
toys and Vinnie splashed water on his face and Mary SLAMMED THE
COFFEE POT ON THE STOVE AND VINNIE CAME OUT AND POURED HIMSELF A
GLASS OF JUICE AND SHE SAID HOW ABOUT ME? AND HE TOLD HER TA POUR HER
OWN JUICE AND SHE SAID TA FIX HIS OWN BREAKFAST AND HE SLAPPED HER
HEAD AND SHE KICKED HIS LEG AND HE KICKED HER BACK AND TOLD HER TA
FIX BREAKFAST AND GET THE KIDS READY SO THEY COULD GET SOME FRESH AIR
AND SHE SAID PISS ONYA AND BANGED A FRYING PAN ON THE STOVE AND FRIED
TWO EGGS FOR HERSELF AND WHEN SHE FINISHED HE FRIED HIS AND TOLD HER
SHE BETTA FEED THE KIDS OR HED THROWER OUT THE WINDDA AND SHE SAID
DONT WORRY ABOUT IT, YEAH? AND HE DUMPED HIS EGGS ONTO A PLATE AND
BANGED THE PLATE ON THE TABLE AND BOTH KIDS WANTED THE SAME TOY AND
THEY TUGGED AT IT AND THEY SCREAMED AT EACH OTHER AND CRIED AND MARY
SAID SHADUUUUP AND VINNIE TOLD HER TASEE WHAT WAS WRONG AND SLURRPED
AN EGG INTO HIS MOUTH AND MARY WENT INTO THEIR ROOM AND TOOK THE TOY
AWAY FROM THEM AND TOLD THEM TA GO OUTSIDE AND SHE FIXED THEM
BREAKFAST AND VINNIE SAT IN THE LIVING ROOM YELLING OUT TO MARY AND
MARY YELLED BACK AND EVERY NOW AND THEN THE KIDS WOULD YELL AND THE
BOTH OF THEM WOULD YELL AT THE KIDS AND THE KIDS WOULD YELL LOUDER
AND VINNIE AND MARY WOULD SCREAM AND FINALLY BREAKFAST WAS FINISHED
AND EVERYONE CONTINUED TO YELL AS THE KIDS RAN TO THEIR ROOM AND MARY
STARTED WASHING THE DISHES AND THE NEIGHBORS TURNED UP THEIR RADIOS.

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PROJECT
NEWSLETTER
AIRMAIL
Throwing garbage out of windows is referred
to as AIRMAIL. We do not want any AIRMAIL from this Project. There
have been many complaints lately of garbage on the street, in the
halls, and even a few cases of people being hit with garbage being
thrown from windows. AIRMAIL is a violation of the
Health Code and a violation of the Housing
Authority Regulations. Any tenant found guilty of throwing garbage
from there windows will be immediately evicted. We want this Project
to be a safe and clean place to live. It is up to you to keep it this
way.

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Lucy got out of bed slowly and went to the childrens
room, changed and dressed Robert, her youngest son, took him out of
the crib, then dressed Johnny. She told them to play quietly (she
certainly wasnt going to allow her children to run around like
indians ), Daddys sleeping, and went to the kitchen to fix breakfast.
She filled 3 glasses with juice and softly called the children. They
came running out and she hushed them and told them to be quiet, nice
little boys dont run around the house making a lot of noise. They
drank their juice and went back to their room to play. A few minutes
later they were yelling BANG, BANG and Lucy ran to their room and
told them to hush. But we/re playing guns Mommy. Johnny, how many
times have I told you that nice young boys dont play guns in the
house. I dont know Mommy. Lucy looked at him for a second. Well,
never mind, just be quiet. OK. Then see that you do, and Lucy went
back to the kitchen, listening for noise from the childrens room,
relieved that the children were quiet and not acting like a bunch of
roughnecks. She was just about to call them when someone knocked on
the door. She adjusted her bathrobe, smoothed down her hair then
opened the door. The nice young white girl from downstairs smiled at
her. I think there may be something wrong in your bathroom Lucy.
Water is leaking down through my ceiling. Lucy OOOOO/d and rushed to
the bathroom. She opened the door and the children spun around,
Johnny frantically trying to turn off the faucets. She glared at
them, the water on the floor—Robert starting to whine and Johnny
still turning the faucets and saying Im sorry—the water still
pouring over the sides of the basin. She reached over and slapped
Johnnys hands off the faucets and turned off the water. Johnny
started to cry and she opened her mouth to scold him when she
remembered the girl was still at the door. She rushed back to the
door and told her she was terribly sorry, the kids were playing and
she hoped no damage had been done. Im really awfully sorry about this
Jean. No, its alright. No harm done. They smiled at each other and
the girl left. Lucy almost slamned the door, but caught it in time
and closed it quietly not wanting the girl to think she was angry
with her. She leaned against the door mortified. Of all the people in
the Project it had to be that nice white girl. Such a nice quiet
family and now she probably thinks we/re just like the rest. She
rushed back to the bathroom. Johnny was still standing by the sink
staring at the doorway, but Robert had left and gone to their room
leaving wet foot prints. Lucy grabbed Johnny by the arm and dragged
him from the bathroom. O youre going to get it. Dont you know better
than to do a thing like that, DONT YOU? slapping him on the backside,
still dragging him to his room. Johnny crying and yelling Im sorry
Mommy. Youre sorry. YOURE SORRY, slapping him again and pushing him
onto his bed. Johnny continued crying and pleading—Robert standing
in the corner afraid he too would be spanked—and Lucy yelling at
Johnny that he would be punished for this . . . then she realized she
was yelling and perhaps the people downstairs could hear her, or
others may have heard her ... she listened for a moment and then
quickly closed the door, telling Johnny to be quiet. Her teeth were
clenched and she snarled at him. If youve wakened your daddy youll be
sorry, shaking with anger and frustration, exasperated by what had
happened and with the fear that someone had heard her yelling. She
listened to hear if Louis had awakened, but no sound came from the
bedroom. She turned back to Johnny, who was trying to stop crying (we
didnt make any noise in the bathroom), but tears still rolled down
his cheeks and his breath was caught with sobs. Robert started
whimpering and Lucy told him to hush, her voice quieter and more
controlled. Johnny could see that the worst was over, so he started
to control his sobbing, still looking pleadingly at his mother.
I-I-Im su-su-sorry Mom-Mommy. Just be quiet and calm down and-THE
OATMEAL! She rushed to the kitchen and snatched the pot off the
stove. O thank goodness its not ruined. She put the oatmeal on the
childrens plates and called them. They sat quietly at the table and
started eating. Lucy went back to her now cold cup of coffee. She
poured another cup and sat at the table with the children. She could
hear Vinnie and Mary screaming at each other. Lucy shook her head and
cursed the Project. She finished her coffee then remembered the water
on the bathroom floor and grabbed the mop from the closet and rushed
to the bathroom and mopped the floor, just waiting for Johnny to make
a sound and she would give it to him good. She wrung out the mop, put
it away and sat back at the table. Johnny had finished his cereal and
sat quietly looking at his Mother as she fed Robert then cleared the
table. She told the children to go to their room and play quietly
then went to the bedroom and dressed. After dressing she got the
clothes ready for the laundromat. She washed, then brushed her hair,
put the laundry in the laundry cart and hustled the children from the
apartment. She hurried to the elevator, opened the door and was about
to step in when she noticed a pile ( actually noticing the smell
first) of human shit on the elevator floor. Again! She stopped and
grabbed Robert as he was about to step in it, then quickly turned
away before someone saw her there. Picking up Robert she started down
the stairs ( O God, now I/ll have to walk up two flights of stairs
with the cart). Lucy flushed with embarrassment, wanting to get as
far away from the elevator as possible before someone else opened the
door, Johnny yelling at his Mother to wait for him. Lucy waited for
Johnny at the door (already convincing herself that a spick had done
it) then rushed from the building, Johnny running to keep up.

BOOK: Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr
3.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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