Authors: Myles (Mickey) Golde
He had a sudden urge to hold her like a baby and let her cry.
“There, that’s done,” she announced, positioning the shirt on a hanger. Removing the apron, she set about clearing the table of laundry and putting the kettle on to boil. “Come sit here, Victor,” she said, going to the cupboard and removing a small, covered dish. “Try some homemade coffee cake. “
Vic felt uncomfortable, hearing about her life and especially her husband. He noticed she mentioned how nice he was, but didn’t say she loved him. Moving to the table, he remained standing while she placed the cake in front of his chair. Reaching out, he took her wrist gently and pulled her toward him. She resisted slightly and then turned toward him as he kissed her cheek.
He waited for her reaction, fearing she might be angry or frightened. Instead, she pulled her head away and looked directly into his eyes.
He let go of her wrist.
Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him; gently at first and then passionately. His arms encircled her waist and he immediately could feel a stirring as he forced his hips into hers.
The light fragrance of her skin and hair and the pressure of her lips and tongue excited him.
“Oh, Victor, it’s been so long since anyone held me,” she sighed. Her arms reached under his shirt as she pulled him closer. “I love the way you feel,” she whispered, grinding her hips into his,
Vic put his right hand lightly on her small breast and could immediately feel her response and soft moan. His other hand cupped her behind. She was not wearing anything under her dress, which excited him even more. He could feel little beads of perspiration on his forehead as he felt the hardness growing in his crotch. Reaching inside her dress, he brushed his hand over her breasts and bent to kiss them.
Slipping to the floor, he raised her dress and lightly ran his fingers over her legs, feeling goose pimples as he reached higher. She busied herself stripping his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. His hand reached between her legs and she guided him whispering, “Easy, gently, oh, right there.” She let out a soft purring sound.
His heart was pounding as she fondled him through his under shorts until he felt himself groan softly as he released his pent up fluid in her hand.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered hoarsely. Seconds later, she let out a soft shriek, which got louder and then she gasped and pulled him to her tightly.
They continued kissing until Mitzi tensed up and pulled away. “Don’t say a word, please, don’t say anything.”
“Are you upset?”
“No, I’m not upset; just hold me.”
Slowly, he felt her relax as he loosened his hold on her but stayed close.
In the other room, they could hear Shayna stirring in her crib.
“Is she okay?” he asked.
Lifting herself on one elbow, she smiled. “She’s fine, just moving around in her sleep.” With her free hand she arranged the dress to cover her breast.
“Victor, I don’t know how to say this, but I feel better than I have felt since I came to this country over a year ago. I have been scared to death. I know my in-laws don’t like me and my husband is a good man who I married for the wrong reasons. He loves me, but I don’t think I love him.”
Vic was uncomfortable as he listened to her confession, frightened that she was telling him these things. It was the first time in his life he experienced anything this sexual and he still desired her, but she was older and married with a child. He wanted to escape, but still wanted to do more with her.
Fortunately, Mitzi gave him a graceful out. Getting up, she smoothed her dress and turned away from him as he straightened his clothing and put on his shirt.
“It’s getting late, maybe you should go,” she said. She took his hand and helped him up. Walking to the door in the dimly lit apartment, she stopped and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you Victor, this has been a lovely evening. I hope you are alright.”
Vic hugged her and turned. “Yeah, I liked it, too.”
Out on the street, Vic walked away quickly. Passing the school, he walked to the steps and sat down. His heart was pounding as he reviewed the previous hour. He was elated in a way that he had never known but frightened because he knew it was wrong. He wanted to tell someone but Mitzi was not some dirty girl like a few he’d heard stories about; she was someone he loved. He wondered what his friends would think it they knew what happened to him tonight but he knew that his friendship with her had to remain a secret.
He got up and headed for home. As he walked, he thought about what it was like for her and all the other Jews whose lives had been forever disrupted by the war.
Ma greeted him as he entered the apartment. Looking up from her newspaper, she peered over glasses. “Oh, it’s you. Did
you eat
?”
“Yeah, I had something earlier. Don’t worry, I’ll check the icebox. I’m sure I’ll find something.”
“Some girl, Shirley something, called you.”
“Oh, what did she want?”
“She didn’t say; she just said to tell you she called.”
“Thanks, anything else going on?”
“No. But what kind of girl calls boys on the telephone?”
He walked halfway down the hall, then stopped and turned so she could hear him without getting too close. Ma had that way about her, where she might notice something that would make her want to ask where he had been before he came home.
“Ah, it’s nothing. I think you know her; she goes to school with me. She probably wanted to ask me something,” he answered, trying to act uninterested as he unbuttoned his shirt.
Donna came into Vic’s life the week after Frank had come home on furlough. Seeking some air conditioned relief from the July heat on Saturday night, Vic, Shirley, Sam Greenstein and Didi Pollack went bowling at Rollaway. They quit after three lines. Vic gathered the rented shoes to return them. Checking them in, behind the counter in tight jeans and a sleeveless white blouse, he recognized a long-haired blonde from school.
“Vic, hurry, they’re already outside, Didi needs to get home by ten,” Shirley called as she followed Sam and Didi out the door.
The blonde grinned, extending her hands upwards. Rolling her eyes, she tilted her head toward Shirley and winked at Vic. He chuckled and shrugged as he turned to catch up.
Frank was out with a friend Sunday night and so was Flo, Vic was hanging around the house with Ma and Pa and the little ones, listening to Jack Benny on the radio. It was still early when the program was over. Feeling restless, he got Pa to let him use the old Dodge for a couple of hours after promising to get a dollars worth of gas at the black market station on Pulaski. Once out, he headed to the bowling alley to check out the blonde at the shoe rental.
“Hi”, he said, grinning as he walked toward the counter.
“Need some shoes?” She smiled, adjusting her white peasant blouse on her shoulders.
“Nope, just can’t resist pretty girls that wink at me,” he said. “You know, I’ve seen you in school, but don’t know your name. Aren’t you a sophomore too?” He leaned over the high counter, making sure she saw that he was trying to get a good look at her figure, which tonight looked much better in a flared print skirt and low heeled white sandals.
Going along with his obvious try at being cute, she turned, slowly mimicking a model. “Like what you see?“
His hand went to his chin and he winked with a nod.
“Yeah, I’m in Mrs. Walker’s home room and my name is Donna, Donna Pickarski,” she answered, pretending to be busy arranging shoes and shuffling some papers.
“Do you know Jim Vogel or Sam Greenstein? They’re in that room.”
“Yeah, I know ‘em, but they don’t pay any attention to me. They barely say hello.”
Looking away, she spoke up in a more formal tone, as she stopped to help a customer. The distraction gave him an opportunity to check her out more thoroughly. She was a lot different than the girls he knew. Most of them were short and had dark hair and eyes. Donna wore her long blonde hair in a pony tail and had light blue eyes which she enhanced with dark makeup.
Finishing with the customer, she turned without moving closer to where he was standing. “I know who you are though; you’re Victor Wayne. Aren’t you an Aztec?”
He nodded.
“My girlfriend, Chrissy Peterson, is in your room.”
“You mean the pretty blonde that all the older guys chase around?”
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“She was in my Algebra class, and I know her, but never really talked to her.”
Between customers they continued to talk about school and their friends. He stayed at the front and she remained several feet away near the shelves of stacked shoes. After about an hour, she moved closer to close the cash register and prepare to leave.
He offered to drive her home. With a sly smile she accepted. Reaching the car, he opened the passenger door for her and waited until she was seated before closing it.
“Thanks, I like that,” she smiled, showing a little dimple and a row of sparkling white teeth. “Where did you learn to be such a gentleman?”
“Hey, I just figured it doesn’t hurt to be polite. Now where do you live?”
“Not far, on Karlov off Argyle.”
“How ‘bout an ice cream? Do you have time?”
“Yeah, can we go to the Greek place on the corner.”
“I got a better idea, let’s go to Buffalo. the ice cream is homemade and I like it better,” he said thinking fast because he knew that Jews weren’t welcome at the Greek’s.
“Sounds good to me,” she agreed.
When they parked near the corner of Irving and Pulaski, he quickly ran around to open the door for her, which brought a big smile and an approving nod. “Very nice Mr. Wayne, I could get spoiled by all this attention.”
At the white marble soda fountain, she ordered a small vanilla cone and he got a dish of chocolate. The young soda jerk scooping out the ice cream couldn’t take his eyes off her, but tried to be careful that Vic wouldn’t notice. Vic ignored him and just paid the bill as he gestured toward the rear, letting her go first. Her hair bounced as she smoothly glided down the aisle of small white and black ceramic tile. Halfway to the back they settled into one of the dark wooden booths with white table tops that lined the way.
He found out that she was fifteen and had graduated from Palmer grade school the year before. Most of her friends had gone to other high schools and only a few went to Von Steuben.
He didn’t know any of them, except for a few guys that were ball players and one or two girls in his home room or other first year classes. She had similar experience with his friends.
Carefully wiping her face with a napkin, trying not to mess her lipstick, she turned serious. “You’re Jewish aren’t you?”
Waiting for his answer, she reached in her purse and pulled out a cigarette, expertly placing it just right of center in her lips. He shook his head as she offered him one. Holding a silver Zippo lighter, she flipped it open and with a flick of her thumb and a deep drag, lit up.
Hesitating before answering her question, he watched the sexy way she slowly exhaled the curling white smoke. “Yeah, I’m Jewish, does that bother you?”
Resting her chin on the hand holding the cigarette, she didn’t reply.
A bright red smudge of lipstick on the tip of the cigarette and the way she let the smoke escape slowly drifting up held his attention, as he waited for her answer.
“I never really knew a Jewish guy,” she said slowly.
“You gotta’ problem with that?” he said, moving back and sitting up straight.
“Hey,” she said cautiously, “I don’t know, but I better not tell my father about you. He hates Jews. He says they all make money by cheating Polacks like us.”
“Well, you can tell your old man, you know a Jew who doesn’t have a lot of money and doesn’t cheat Polacks,” he replied emphatically, as she inhaled a long drag.
Smiling, she chose her words carefully. “I thought Jews all had big noses and only talked about money,” adding, as if apologizing, “at least that’s what my father says every time we go to Jewblatts.”
“Jewblatt’s?”
“Yeah, you know, Goldblatt’s, on Broadway and Lawrence, everyone calls it that.”
Not knowing quite how to respond, Vic folded his hands in front of him. She raised her eyebrows, tucking in her lower lip.
With a tight smile, he said, “well if you must know, I wasn’t always Jewish, but when I found out that Jews all had a lot of money, I converted.”
Slowly a sheepish grin spread across her face as his comment sunk in. “Hey that’s cute. I guess you know what they say about Polacks, do you think I’m dumb?”
Now it was his turn to smile. “I think you’re a beautiful blonde and smart, because you’re letting me drive you home.”
He felt a light kick under the table. “You’re cute too, and different. You’re not like other Jews.”
Vic didn’t answer, but thought to himself, she just doesn’t get it. In the meantime she was coming on to him and he felt a stirring in his pants as she reached across the table and took hold of his hand, pulling it closer. Maybe he thought it would be his night to get lucky. At the same time, he liked her. She was different than the girls he had always known.
Driving home up Pulaski to Argyle, she directed him a few blocks west and then south until at her direction, he pulled up to a neat-looking two flat.
He backed into a parking space and put his arm around her, kissing her lightly. Her response was shy at first, but only for a few seconds and then she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
In the weeks that followed, he met her at work a couple times and they would sneak in back of the counter to kiss and tease each other. He also began calling her on the phone every day or two.
One night as they parked near Gompers Park, he told her he was going steady with Shirley. She confessed that she too, was going with a boy from Taft High School.
“Besides,” she said, “you’re only fourteen, and I know you’re not serious. But I’ve got to admit, you are cute.”
“Yeah, you’re cute too. And I’ll be fifteen soon. I should add that sneaking around like this with someone as sexy as you really turns me on,” he said as he kissed her, pushing his tongue past her lips into her eager mouth.