Henry Roth - Call It Sleep

“Take de strap off.” Leo kneeled to undo his own.

“Watchuh gonna do?” Crouching beside him, David undid the buckle with clammy fingers.

“Nutt’n! Don’ git scared.” His whisper sounded strange against the loud background of the street. “Let’s gitcher clamp.” He unloosened it, arose with both skates in his hand. “C’n ye see anybody in de staw?”

“Can’t see good f’om hea.”

“Well, sneak over dis way. Jeez! don’ be dumb. Keep goin’.”

From his momentary vantage, David squinted hurriedly into the shady doorway across the sunlit gutter. “My a’nt’s dere!” He whispered, quickening his step. “An I t’ink it’s Polly.”

“Dey’s two goils dere!” Leo countered sharply as they passed. “I seen ’em meself stannin’ in front.”

“Yea, but I don’ know de odder one.”

“An she wuzn’t dere, wot’s ’er name? De one dat went down witcha? No? Well, let’s walk back.” They retraced their steps.

“No. Couldn’t see ’er anyhow. We better go back.”

“Aw hol’ yer hosses, will ye! Can’t chuh wait here a minute till she shows up?” Disgruntled, he flung himself back at the railing beside a stoop. “You’ll have lots o’ time, wotcha worryin’ about — Hey, duck! Duck, will ye!” He pushed the startled David behind him. “Dey’re comin’ out! Stay dere or dey’ll see ye!” And after a few seconds, “Cheez, dat wuz close, but dey’re goin’ de udder way now. Awright.” He stepped to one side, giving David room to view them. “W’ich one is her sister?”

“De skinny one,” David stared furtively after the two girls. “Dat’s Polly in de yeller dress wit’ dat black ma’ket bag.”

“Wot about dem, huh?” Leo’s blue eyes widened significantly. “W’en dey come back.”

“Naa!” He drew away. “I don’t know ’em — de odder one.”

“Aw, balls!” Leo see-sawed between anger and ardor. “You ain’ game fer nutt’n, dat’s wot! C’mon, Le’s take anudder look. Maybe dat Est’er goil is in dere now.” He dragged David past the store again. No sign of her. There was only Aunt Bertha sitting behind the counter reading a newspaper. “Aw, Jesus, wot luck!”

“Yuh see, Est’er ain’ dere.” David felt that he could argue more boldly now. “An’ if we stay hea, de kids an’ ev’rybody’ll be watchin’ us.”

“Aw, de hell wit’ ’em! De street’s free, ain’ it? Who’s gonna stop me from walkin’ here, I’d like t’ know.” Nevertheless his lower lip drooped disappointedly. “She lives in de back, don’ she?”

“Yea,” he offered the information eagerly. “In de back o’ de staw. Yuh have t’ go troo w’ea my a’nt is sittin’, an’ yuh can’t do dat.”

But his advice, instead of convincing Leo of the futility of all further effort merely spurred him on. “I can’t, huh?” was his defiant answer. “Well, watch me! C’mon!” He stepped off the curb.

“Wotchuh gonna do?” He hung back in consternation.

“Jist don’t let dat fat dame see ye,” Leo took his arm confidingly, “An do wot I say, get me?” They stopped before the stoop of the next house west of the candy store. “Now w’en nobody’s lookin’, sneak over to dat cella’ and duck down. I’ll lay out, see?”

“Naaa!”

“G’wan! Be a nice guy.” He became even more confiding, “Yuh want dat ros’ry, dontcha? Well, you giz down — I comes after yuh. I’ll give it t’ye right dere.”

“Den wotcha gonna do?”

“Den we giz inta de yard.” His candor was painstaking. “An’ if she’s dere, all right, an’ if she ain’ dere all right — I gives it t’ye anyway. An’ we goes home.”

“An dat’s de last?”

“Honest t’ Gawd! Now g’wan, sneak over.”

With a scared glance about, David sidled to the cellar stairs beneath the store window.

“Duck!” Leo’s side-mouthed signal.

He slipped down the steps. A moment later, Leo followed, brushed past him toward the closed door.

“Hope t’ shit it opens.” He leaned against it. “Yea!” in subdued triumph as the door swung back.

The sudden draft through the cellar bore with it the familiar dank. At the opposite end of the corridor of the dark, the oblong of light was narrow — the door slightly ajar. “C’mon,” Leo whispered stealthily. “Don’ make no noise.”

“Yuh gonna gimme id now?” He wavered at the threshold.

“Sure! Soon as we gits in de yard.” He shut the door again as David stepped into the clinging dark. “Don’ make no noise, will ye? Wea’s de shit-house?”

“Over by dere.” The seamless dark swallowed the pointing hand. “Dere’s a daw. Waddayuh—”

“Sh! Folly me. Maybe she’s in it.”

“She don’ never comm down by huhself.”

“Let’s look anyways.”

He groped after … A bar of murk in a wall of gloom.

“Iz zat it?”

“Yea.”

A pause. “No one’s dere.”

“No.”

“Hey, hoddy ye say it again?” Leo’s breath was warm on his cheek. “Dem Jewish woids I ast yuh on de hitch?

“Wa?”

“Yuh know! Shine — shine?”

“Shine maidel,” grudgingly.

“Yea! Shine maidel! Shine maidel. An’ de udder. Took — tookis, ain’ it?”

“Yea.”

“Le’s go.”

They moved forward. Where the wedge of brightness pried the narrowly-opened door, Leo stopped, peered out into the yard. “She live up dere w’ea dem steps is?”

“Yea.”

“Hea take dis, will yuh—’faw we giz out.” A skate clicked faintly as he thrust the strap into David’s hands.

“W — waddayuh wan’ I shuh do?” David held it off as if it had become dangerous.

“Nutt’n. Don’ do nutt’n.” Leo urged reassuringly, “Jis’ come out wit me and make believe you takin’ it off — make a noise, see? If she’s in de back, jis’ say I’m yuh frien’ an I lets yuh use me skates an’ ev’yting. An’ nen I’ll talk to ’er.”

“An’ nen yuh’ll gimme it?”

“Didn’ I say I would? C’mon.” He glanced boldly around at the gaping windows. “Nobody’s watchin’.” And both climbed up into the brilliant yard.

“Now!” He whispered, dropping to one knee and dragging David down beside him. “Like yuh jis’ come — a lotta noise. G’wan!” He clashed his skate on the ground. “Yea! Gee!” His voice rose in loud, pretended bluster. “Can I beatchoo? Wow! Anytime! Two blocks? Wut’s two blocks. I’ll race yuh ten — Say sumpt’n fer Chris’ sake!”

“Yea! Yea!” David contributed quaveringly. “Ten blocks, yuh can’t. Yea! Yea!”

“G’wan I c’n too!” His bragging grew even louder. “Waddayuh wanna bet! A dolla’? Le’s see yer dough—” The click of the latch in the door. “Sure I c’n. Run ye ragged—”

Midway up in the widening groove of the doorway, two eyes peered out. A loose pigtail swung into sun. Esther, picture-magazine in hand, looked out startled and angry.

“You!” To David. “Waddayuh doin’ in my yod.”

“N-nutt’n, I—”

“Hello, Kid!” Leo pleasant and unfeazed.

“Shott op!” Indignantly. “I’ll tell my modder on — Ma—!”

“Hey!” Leo’s quick cry cut her short. “Wait a secon’ will ye?” And when she paused to pout. “Dis guy’s yuh cousin ain’ he?”

“So wadda you wan’?”

“Well,” in grieved surprise. “Can’t he come into yaw yard?”

“No, he can’t ”. She thrust her head out emphatically. “W’y didn’t he come troo de front? Mama!”

“I’ll tell yuh.” Leo strove desperately to engage her. “Give us a chanct, will ye?”

“W’a’?” in contemptuous disbelief.

“It’s like dis,” Leo drew near the steps, lowered his voice confidentially. “He’s too bashful.”