Henry Roth - Call It Sleep

“Now one fer you!” He clawed the doors across the murky alley, found another that opened. “Now if some-buddy comes, see, you gits in hea — her ol’ lady er sumpt’n. Soon as ye hear ’em you go psst! an’ duck! See? But stay near dat daw so’s yuh c’n see ’em faw dey sees you — den duck an’ psst! Catch on? An’ nen we’re safe — all of us!” He glanced at the open doorway. “W’ea de hell is she? An’ looka, w’en she comes down wotever I says, jis say yea, see? An’ look dumb, dat’s all, jis’ look dumb! An’ I’ll give it t’ye like I said — jus w’en she comes. Now don’ fergit.” He motioned to the cellar bin, “Dat’s w’ea you runs, if — Sh!”

Both had heard it — the scrape of feet outside.

“Lay low!” Leo shoved him before him into the bin, shut the door, “Sh!” He peeped out through a crack in the doorway. “Who de hell is it?”

Strumming silence. Only the sound of their breath in the blackness. Behind him the hard edges, knobs, of piled furniture, and higher something yielding, sack or mattress. Confused and formless memories. Again the scrape of feet, cautious and approaching.

“Wonner if — cheezis, must be her! Hol’ me skates!” He pushed the door open a few inches wider, knifed through and ran on tip-toe toward the yard-light.

Watching him through the bin-door, David froze in terror.

“Hey, c’mon!” Leo had flattened himself into the shadow behind the door-jamb. “C’mon down, will ye. We’re hea.” A pause. “C’mon kid.” Again the persuasive drawl. “You know me-e.”

Feet scuffed outside, descended slowly into the oblong of light. A short dress. Esther.

“No, I ain’ gonna!” She balked on the last step.

“Awri’ listen den! I wanna tell yuh sumpt’n.”

“So tell me hea!” She peered into the dark.

“Look, yuh-don’ wan’ me t’yell or nutt’n, do ye? Or go outside w’ea ev’ybuddy c’n see us?”

“Hea den. I’ll stay righd hea.” She stepped down, toed the plank of the sill. “Now tell me.”

“Aw, I can’t tell ye hea!” Leo sounded both hurt and despairing. “Give us a chanst, will ye? Listen!” He took her arm. “We don’ want dat sap back dere t’ hea’ wut I say — Hey, Davy!” Peremptorily. “Come out o’ dere, will ye!”

David sneaked from the bin, edged closer.

“W’ea wuz he?” Esther eyed him furtively.

“Jis’ inna back. Jis’ inna back!” Leo pulled her toward him. “Now you stay hea.” He turned to David severely. “I wanna talk t’ Esther — Jis’, a secon’ Esther, dat’s all!”

She followed Leo in. They brushed past David on the way, and floating by him, their faces in the murky air were staring and pale. Where the deeper gloom near the toilet half-dissolved them—

“No maw!” sharply from Esther.

“Ye ain’ scared, are ye?” Himself wavering in the dark, Leo’s husky voice was distinct. “Wit’ me witchuh?”

“Aw!” irresolutely.

“Well, listen … now I wuz gonna … Whee! Oh, boy!”

“Stop!” Her loud hiss. “Tell me, or I’m goin’ out!”

“Listen den. See dat bin? Waid’ll I show ye.” The door creaked faintly.

“Yea,” suspiciously.

“Well, I sez t’ him, yuh know who dat bin b’longs tuh? It b’longs t’ Esther’s ol’ lady. She tol’ me, I sez, see?

“So?”

“Den he sez, wot’s inside? So I sez, wodjuh t’ink — candy!”

She tittered.

“Ain’ he a sap!” Leo’s amused snort joined her eagerly. “An’ den I sez yuh know wut me an’ Esther’s gonna do? We’re gonna sneak in an’ find some — yuh know, chawklits, gum drops. He sez, yuh gonna gimme some? Sure I sez if we finds some— Weew! Esther!”

“Don’!” half-heartedly. “Yuh didn’!”

“Yes, I did! I did so! An’ I sez lay chickee fer us — Mm! will ye— Eww!”

A silence.

“No!” protestingly. “So w’at?”

“So I sez … lay chickee fer us … an!.. an!.. so he sez…”

“Ooh!”

“He’ll lay chick … Weew … Kid! Waddayuh say?”

A mumbling, A rustling …

“He’ll watch. It’s better in dere den hea’. Can’t see us!”

“Uh!”

“Wait a secon’! I wanna git me skates. Hey Davy!” Quick-footed, breathless he loomed from dark to half-light. “Gonna git de candy like I tol’ yuh. Hea!” As he grabbed the skates from David’s fist, his other hand flew to his side. “Take it! Now lay putso!”

The slight rattle of a small heap suddenly grown in his palm. Them! A shudder ran through him.

“Don’ fergit!” Leo’s voice sped off. “Till we comes!”

Stealthy gurgles, hissings, mutterings.

“C’mo-on!”

The bin-door creaked. Feet shuffled. Faint whines. And the door creaked again, clicked. Only the barest of whispers now, stirrings blending with the dark’s hum.

— Mine! It’s mine! (The jerky throbbing of his blood reiterated) Mine! I got it. Big-little-big-little-little-little-big-busted. Gee! Him hanging— What!

A thin squeal seeped through door and dark. Esther’s.

— Aaa! (Disgust filled him. He stumbled toward the yard-light) By light go, can’t hear! Right ones? (A sudden qualm of doubt. He scrutinized them) Yes, right ones! Same! Didn’t fool me. Out of the box with God. Mine! (Convulsive fingers crushed them) Don’t care! Ain’t scared! If I can make it! Ooh, if I can make it! Never be scared! Never! Go on! No, wait! No, now! Where?

Darting eyes fastened on the snug niche behind the open door. He squeezed in, pulled the door back as far as it would go, and enclosed as in a cell, he squatted first, then stretched his legs out altogether and leaned his cheek against the slim airy bar of light cut twice by the hinges.

— Hurry up! Look where it’s dark, real dark … Look.… No … No good. See too much yet, stops it. Then shut then. Same thing. Like he said. It’s inside and it’s out. Like him with the light-guts. Now keep. How big did I—? Twentier I said. But not now. First you have to get it. After it’s a twentier. Like the light in the hall, when I seen it. Gee, how I peed— Hurry up! So now you’re standing on them — only alone. Nobody else is akey now. It’s going to be all mine. Quarter I thought then — bigger it was. But it’s round, so better twentier. So shut up! You’re standing on them — you said that already. On your knees. Feel how they were? How — burn — like. Began to hurt just before Kushy wanted to fight and papa came. Hurry up! Down, look down! Can you see? Maybe. Nearly can’t. But — Look! G’wan now! G’wan! ’Fore it goes! Let it down! One is — is a little bead. Real easy! Two is little bead. Faster! This — little. This — little This — faster. And that — him now — right over it. Long enough? Gee. Hope so! Right over!

Past drifting bubbles of grey and icy needles of grey, below a mousetrap, a cogwheel, below a step and a dwarf with a sack upon his back, past trampled snow and glass doors shutting, below the gleam on a turning knob and bird upon a lawn, sank the beads, gold figure on the cross swinging slowly, revolving, sank into massive gloom. At the floor of the vast pit of silence glimmered the round light, pulsed and glimmered like a coin.

— Touch it! Touch it! Drop!

And was gone!

— Aaa! Where? Where? Look harder! Bend closer! Get it again! Again!

And would not reappear.

“I’m gonna get it,” almost audibly. “I am!”

His teeth gritted, head quivering in such desperate rage, the blood whirred in his ears. Like a tightened knot, his body hardened, hands clenched, breath dammed and stifled within him. He fished.

“I am!”

Now saliva drooled unheeded from his lips. Pent breath pressed veins in anguished bulges against his throat. His nostrils flickered scooping vainly at the air. And still he sought the depths, strangling. Then darkness, swirling and savage, caught him up like a wind of stone, pitched him spinning among palpable drum-beats, engulfed him in a brawling welter of ruined shapes — that parted — and he plunged down a wailing fathomless shaft. A streak of flame — and screaming nothingness.