Once Upon a Time in America (The Hoods) / Однажды в Америке (Бандиты)

I ran up the five flights of creaky stairs into our dark flat. It was full of nice baking smells.

“Supper ready, Momma?” I yelled as I threw my books in a corner. “It’s you, my good boy?”

“Yes, Ma, I asked is supper ready?”

“You asked?”

“Yes, Ma, I asked is supper ready?”

“Yes, yes, it’s ready, but wait till Poppa and your brother come home from schul[61] and I light the candles.”

“I’m hungry, Ma. Why do I have to wait for the candles, and Poppa?” “Because if you was like Poppa and your brother, you wouldn’t be in trouble all the time, and maybe you wouldn’t be so hungry all the time, and think of schul once in awhile, maybe.”

Momma gave a deep sigh.

“I think of food, and making money, a lot of money, Ma, a million dollars.”

“A million dollars? You’re so foolish, sonny, believe me. For the millionairies is the million dollars; for the poor people is the schul. Now don’t bother me, please, I have to finish the wash so we can all take baths in the washtub before we have dinner. And don’t forget to remind me: I got to rinse your head with kerosene.” “Did Poppa borrow any money for the rent, Ma?”

I could hear Momma sighing deeply from the kitchen.

“No, sonny.”

I picked up a copy of Robin Hood that Maxie had loaned me and began reading it over again. I was a hungry reader. I would read anything I could get my hands on.

I could still hear Momma rubbing clothes at the washtub. Gradually the light grew dim. It was difcif ult to read by it. I struck a match and climbed on a chair. I tried to turn the gas on, but no gas came out of the fixture. I called out, “Ma, there’s no gas.”

She sighed heavily. “I used it all up for the baking and the hot water for the wash.” “So give me a quarter[62] for the meter, Ma.”

“I’m sorry, sonny, the quarter I can’t spare.”

I slammed the door and went out to the hall toilet used by all six of the families living on the same floor. In a hidden niche above the watercloset, I had a box of cigarette butts I had collected from the gutters. I smoked three butts to kill my appetite.

I heard footsteps coming my way. I waited hopefully. The toilet door opened. Yes, it was Fanny, who lived down the hall. She was my age.

“Oh, it’s you. Why don’t you lock the door like you’re supposed to?”

She smiled coquettishly.

I bowed mockingly. “Come in, come in, said the spider to the fly.”

She stood in the doorway smiling. “What for, you fresh thing, so you can feel me all over with your fresh hands?”

She giggled. She put her hands on her wide hips and swayed back and forth. She smiled provocatively. Her tight short dress demonstrated her plump round breasts and her fat, full little figure. It got me all excited. I reached down through the top of her dress. I fondled her warm, smooth young breasts. Gently I squeezed her nipples. She swayed with her eyes closed, breathing quickly.

“Come in,” I whispered in anxious excitement, “so I can lock the door and play around good with you.”

I grabbed her around her soft, large buttocks and pulled her in with me. I was about to lock the door. A deep bellow sounded from the other end of the hall.

“Fanny, Fanny, hurry up with the toilet.”

Fanny whispered, “That’s my Momma. Better leave me go. I’ll let you play with me some other time.”

I was reluctant to let her go. I was too excited.

I went downstairs, hoping to meet Peggy. I went down the cellar. I looked on the roof. She was nowhere around. Disappointedly I stood on the stoop watching the girls, making obscene remarks as they passed by.

Big Maxie came hurriedly along. He waved to me. “Come on, Noodles.” I ran down the stoop.

“What’s up, Max?” I asked.

“Come on, we grab a ride with my uncle.”

“The uncle picking up a stiff[63] with the hearse?” I asked delightedly.

“Yep; up in Harlem. Madison Avenue. We give him a hand.[64] He’s got an unexpected job.”

We reached the office all out of breath, just in time to give his uncle, the undertaker, a hand carrying the long wicker basket out to the hearse. Proudly we sat on the large front seat. Driving on upper Fifth Avenue along the park, Maxie’s uncle pointed out the rich homes.

Sarcastically, he commented, “Just like down the East Side. I’ll bet they’ve barely got enough to eat in those houses.”

The remark reminded me of my chronic hunger. I whispered to Max, “Maybe we can promote your uncle for some hot dogs or something.”

Maxie nodded and winked. He nudged me. “Some day we’ll be able to buy plenty of hot dogs.”

“It can’t be too quick for me,” I said.

“You kids like a couple of hot dogs?” Maxie’s uncle grinned. “O.K., I can take a hint[65], after we pick the stiff up.”

Riding back to the East Side after we had picked up the stif,f Maxie’s uncle stopped at a hot dog wagon and bought us each two frankfurters. We leaned against the hearse, eating our hot dogs. Back in the hearse, as a joke he handed us cigars. To his surprise, we took them, lit up and puffed away. He chuckled in admiration.

“You kids are okay.” We helped him into the funeral parlor with the body. “Thanks, boys.” Then he chuckled and corrected himself, “Thanks, men.” He tossed us each a quarter.

Maxie said, “Glad to have been a help to you, uncle. Any time you need us, let me know.”

He looked fondly at Max. “You’re growing up to be a big boy.” He patted him affectionately.

“Thanks for the ride and everything,” I said.

“Not at all,” he said. “So long, men.” He smiled after us.

We walked into Gelly’s candy store smoking the cigars, feeling like men of the world. Patsy, Dominick and Cockeye were already there, waiting for us. Patsy called out, “Hey, big shots, where you been?”

Maxie tossed his quarter on the counter and said, “Malteds[66] and charlotte russes for everybody.”

Gelly’s son, Fat Moe, was behind the counter, with a dirty apron around his large middle. He picked up and examined the quarter.

We sat on the stools loudly sucking the whipped cream off our charlotte russe cakes. We watched the electric malted machines whirl; they were the newest sensation on the East Side.

Jake the Goniff, Goo-Goo and Pipy, our new found friends came in. We exchanged hellos and gave them a sip each from our malteds. Pipy suggested, “Try a riddle on them, Jake.”

Jake turned, a smile on his face. “Why is the East River like a girl’s legs?” None of us knew the answer.

“Because the higher up you get, the nicer it is.”

Pipy spied the box of charlotte russes on the counter. The three hurried over to them.

Fat Moe yelled over, “Hey, you guys, lay of.f You guys got dough?[67]”

Pipy produced a dollar bill. Jake the Goniff took it out of his hands and waved it in the air.

He called out to us, “You guys want some charlotte russes?”

Max asked, “Where did you guys get the buck?”

“Pipy rolled a lush on the Bowery[68],” Jake proudly put his arm around Pipy’s shoulders.

“Aw, he was a pushover[69],” little Pipy said modestly. “I took this off him, too.” Pipy produced a large knife.

I remembered O’Brien’s knife of specialized knowledge for success. This was some sort of omen. This knife was for me. I had to have it. It would give me a magic power, I thought. “Let’s see it, Pip?” I asked.

He handed it to me. It was a spring, push-button knife of German make. It made a click and a large shiny blade swished out. There was no question about it. I was going to keep it. I kept opening and closing it in front of Pipy’s nose. Alarmed, he kept backing up.

Maxie was eyeing me. He said: “You like it, Noodles? You going to keep it?”

I said, “Yeh, it’s a beaut.”

“So keep it, it’s yours. Ain’t it, Pip?”

Maxie turned his smile from Pip to Jake to Goo-Goo. They understood that that smile of Maxie’s and my attitude meant bad business. Patsy bent his face down close to Pipy and snarled, “Yeh, you’re giving Noodles a present, ain’t you, Pip?”

Dominick and Cockeye walked behind them, ready for action. I kept staring at Pipy and clicking the knife open and shut at his throat. The atmosphere was tense in Gelly’s candy store for a moment. Jake finally broke the tension with his good-natured laugh.

“Yeh, you can have it, Noodles, it’s too big and dangerous for a little guy like Pipy anyhow,” Jake said.

I walked over to the shelves of paper-bound books, examining the blade. It was beautiful. It was sharp on both sides and came to a strong needle point on the end. The blade itself was at least six inches long. A push of the button, the blade clicked into the six-inch handle. It made a formidable weapon. It fitted just right in my pants pocket. My eyes wandered to the display of dime[70] paperbound books. To me it was a hypnotic display of all sorts of Westerns. I thumbed through Horatio Alger’s From Rags to Riches[71], debating with myself whether to buy a book, or use the quarter that Maxie’s uncle had given me for the gas meter at home. I thought, if I bought it, I wouldn’t have any light to read it.

Fat Moe came over to me and whispered, “Go ahead, Noodles, stick one in your pocket before my old man gets here. Don’t bend it too much, but bring it back tomorrow, all right?”

I stuck From Rags to Riches in my pocket, feeling happy and grateful, saying: “I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Moe, I’ll bring it back in the morning.”

I felt as if life was complete. I had a quarter for the gas meter, a new knife and a book to read tonight.

“All right, fellas,” Maxie was taking his tie and jacket off, “let’s get going. You guys want to come along?” He turned to Jake, Pip, and Goo-Goo.

“What are you going to do?” Jake asked.

“We’re going to do a little long distance running,” Max answered. “Nah, not for us,” Jake said. “We’ll see you some more.”

They walked out.

We followed Maxie’s example, putting our clothes on a chair. We jogged downtown into the night, starting on our daily long-distance run. Maxie, in the lead, set the pace[72]. He was a Spartan when it came to exercise.

“When we grow up, it will come in handy, we’ll have muscles and wind, and be tough as nails[73].”

We were jogging along in a compact group right behind Maxie. After ten blocks, pudgy Dominick, gasping and pufnif g, called out, “I had enough, Max.”

Maxie turned his head, he was breathing easy. “The trouble with you, Dommie, is that you eat too much spaghetti. Some day you’ll be sorry.”

Dominick dropped out. We continued downtown, changing pace, running fast one block, then slowing up the next. We made our way downtown to the financial district. We stopped and rested at the curb. An immense building was in front of us. The windows were covered with thick iron bars. The entrance was a heavy steel door.

Patsy remarked, “It looks like a prison.”

“There’s no prison down here,” I said.

Patsy said, “How do you know?”

Maxie laughed, “Don’t argue with Noodles. He knows everything.”

He called out to a passer-by, “Hey, mister.” The man stopped.

“Yes?”

“What kind of building is that, a prison?”

The man smiled. “A prison? No, that’s where they keep all the money.” Patsy interestedly asked, “A lot of money?”

“Why, yes.” The man was amused. “Quite a few million. That’s the Federal Reserve.”

He walked away smiling.

Maxie walked over and tried to look in. He came back and said, “Some day we’re gonna heist this joint. What do you think, Noodles?”

“It’s okay with me, but it looks tough,” I said. “How you going to heist this joint?”

Maxie replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll find out some day.”

I looked at Maxie. He was staring at the building.

He muttered, “For a million bucks I’ll heist this joint some day.”

We ran all the way back to Gelly’s candy store. Dominick was standing outside, talking to Fat Moe’s pretty brunette sister, the untouchable Dolores[74]. We all had a secret crush on her.[75] She had a pair of dancing shoes slung over her left shoulder.

She smiled when she saw us approaching. Her greeting was only for Cockeye.

“Hello, Hy,” she said, “do you mind playing for me tonight while I practice?” “Sure, Dolores, it’s a pleasure.” Cockeye was overcome with delight.

They went to the back room of the store. We followed and watched as Dolores changed her shoes and went into her dance. She improvised a dance to Cockeye’s playing a harmonica. Her limb movements thrilled me. My eyes followed her every motion as she pirouetted easily, gracefully, around and around. She stopped after awhile to catch her breath. She sat talking to Cockeye.

Maxie called out to her, “Hey, Dolores.” She turned and stared coldly at him.

“Hay[76] is for horses. Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m not accustomed to being addressed in that manner.”

She turned her back to Max and continued her conversation with Cockeye. That was the moment I felt my first deep infatuation for Dolores. It was a clean, uplifting emotion, entirely different from the feeling which Peggy or other neighborhood girls inspired in me. Looking at her sitting on the chair, I felt she was like a dancing angel. I loved Dolores.

I smiled and walked over to her. “What kind of dancing is that? What do they call it?”

She looked haughtily over her shoulder. “I thought you knew everything. That was free dancing. You’re not as smart as you think you are.”

I stood there, red-faced, at a loss for an answer.

Cockeye volunteered, “Dolores is practicing to be a professional dancer. She’s going to be a star in a Broadway show some day.”

She floated around the room again in time to the music. Her attentions to Cockeye didn’t seem to bother me in the least. It was Maxie who aroused my jealousy. While she was dancing, Max picked up her shoes and threw them behind the bench.

She stopped after that number, smiled at Cockeye and said: “Thanks very much, Hy. You play that harmonica beautifully.”

Cockeye blushed and mumbled something. She looked angrily around for her shoes. I walked behind the bench and picked them up and handed them to her. She misunderstood. She gave me a furious look. Without a word she put them on. I could have killed Max. She left the room, her green eyes flashing and her head held high.

Unhappily, without a word, I walked outside. I stood in the doorway, feeling as if the world had crumbled around me. Dolores meant a lot to me, and Maxie had loused me up with her.

His voice cut through my unhappy mood: “You wanna Sweet Caporal, Noodles?”

Maxie offered me a cigarette. I took his peace offering.

We stood there smoking. Mr. Gelly came walking down the street.

When he reached his doorway he whispered: “You boys bring me some bundles in the morning?”

Maxie nodded and said, “Yep, don’t we always supply you with morning papers?” He patted Maxie on the head.

“Pick me up a bundle of Tageblatts[77] tomorrow, yeh?”

Maxie said, “Yep. We get up early tomorrow, Noodles.”

I nodded. “What time?”

“About four-thirty, I’ll meet you on the corner.”

We stood there, finding it dififcult to make conversation.

A customer made for the door. We stood aside with respect for the well-dressed “Professor.” We felt pride and pleasure when he greeted us with a pleasant smile.

“How are you boys?”

“Okay, Professor,” Max said. “Fine, Professor,” I echoed.

“You boys wait for me, I’ll be right out.”

Max said, “Sure, Professor.” We saw him enter the telephone booth.

“He’s smart; he’s got plenty of brains, that guy. He’s only out of jail a week, and I’ll bet he’s back handling ‘junk[78].’ I wonder where he gets the stuff,” Maxie mused.

“He’s got connections.[79] He imports it, I guess. It don’t grow in this country,” I said importantly; in my know-it-all manner.

“From where do you think, Noodles – Italy?”

“Could be, maybe China. Chinks[80] smoke it mostly, I read somewhere.” “Why do people smoke opium?”

“It gives them nice dreams. I would like to smoke a pipe of that stuff sometimes.” Max said, “Me, too. That’s what they call kicking the gong around[81], hey, Noodles?” I nodded and smiled.

The Professor came out, pufnif g on a big cigar.

“I have a job for you boys; follow me down to my place,” he whispered.

We walked behind him in the dark until we got into a back room. He struck a match and lit the gaslight. The Professor had a complete workshop there. On a bench there was a large wooden box with the lid open. Inside, I could see some gears and wheels. Max and I walked up close to it. The box was highly polished and looked out of place in that dirty cellar. The Professor stood there looking at us.

Maxie gestured with his head, “What’s that?”

“That?” The Professor smiled. He closed the lid and said, “Let me demonstrate my new invention, something every home should have.”

He turned a handle, we heard the gears inside revolve, and before our amazed eyes, a crisp ten-dollar bill came out of the slot. He walked away and said, “All right, let’s forget all about this machine for awhile. I want you lads for —”

He stopped. He stood looking at us, twirling his mustache. “You boys want to make some money, right?”

I said, “Sure, Professor, that’s what we’re here for.”

“I know you lads are smart, and I can trust you to keep your mouths shut, right?”

We both echoed, “Right.”

He smiled, showing his large white teeth. “Fine, fine, you’re good lads, just the type I can trust. Now, here’s what I want you to do for me: you know where Mott Street is?” “Yep, Professor,” Maxie answered proudly. “Noodles knows this city like a book.”

“Mott Street is in Chinatown,” I said. “That’s right.”

He took a small round ball, resembling putty, out of a drawer. “Keep this in your pocket. Deliver it to the store at this address. Just leave it on the table, and walk out. That’s all you do. All right? Be careful with it. It’s valuable, and don’t play with it.”

Maxie nodded. “Yep, Professor, we know what’s inside.” The Professor raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Junk,” I said.

The Professor chuckled. He patted me on the back.

“Smart boy, I’ll wait here for you, and I’ll have a dollar for each of you when you get back.”

When we reached Chinatown, we found the store easily. The bell hanging over the door gave a faint tinkle as we walked in. In the dim light, we were barely able to see a large, fat Chinese seated at a table. He was staring at us. I was glad I had the knife in my pocket. It gave me a feeling of supreme confidence. I toyed with the button on the knife. In my imagination I dug it into his fat throat again and again; then I slashed him across the face.

A funny thing happened: I actually saw his eyes bulge with fright. I swear he knew what I was thinking. I was sure of it. He knew that all I had to do was to take one step. With my magic push-button knife I would cut his face into chop suey[82]. He turned his white flabby face away in terror. I laughed and spit on the floor. Max put the ball on the table. We walked out.

“What was you laughing at, Noodles?” Max asked.

“At the Chinaman.”

“Them Chinks don’t like to be laughed at, Noodles.” “That Chink I could handle, or anybody else,” I boasted. Maxie looked curiously at me. “He was a big Chink.”

I shrugged. “So what?”

Maxie laughed and patted me on the back. “Yep, I forgot, you got Pipy’s knife.” “My knife.”

“Yep, your knife. It makes you feel good to have something like that handy, hey, Noodles?”

I nodded. “Yeh, it makes you feel like you’re somebody.”

“I’m going to get something to carry around myself,” Maxie said. He picked up a cigar butt from the sidewalk. He put it in the corner of his mouth. “Someday I’m going to get me a revolver. I’ll ask the Professor.”

He handed me the butt. I smoked it awhile, then passed it back to him.

The Professor held the door open for us. “Everything all right? You boys delivered it?” he asked anxiously.

“Yep, everything’s all right, we delivered it.” Maxie spat on the floor. He puffed on his cigar stub. I looked coldly at the Professor.

He laughed and gave us a dollar apiece. “You kids will go a long way.”

“Yeh, Professor, we’re looking to make money. We need it,” I said. “You boys will make plenty, and I’ll show you how.”

“You’re the Professor,” Maxie wisecracked.

He chuckled, and rubbed his hands. “Yes, yes, I can teach you lads plenty of tricks, maybe, for our mutual benefit.”

“Hey, Professor, can you get me and Noodles a couple of rods[83]?” “Rods?” The Professor was surprised.

He looked at us intently.

“What do you need them for?”

“Well, we thought it would come in handy some time.”

“For instance, when, and what for?”

“You know, to make a heist.”

“Who are you going to heist, Max?”

Max hesitated for a moment. “Nah, we’re going to heist the Federal Reserve Bank,” Max said impressively.

The Professor turned his back and put a handkerchief to his mouth. At first it sounded as if he was laughing. But we were mistaken. He really was coughing violently. He wiped his wet eyes.

“I have a bad cough, this damp cellar you know. Now, about this Federal Reserve heist. You lads are a little too young yet. Wait a few years. After a little experience on small stuf,f like candy stores, drug stores, then gradually you work your way up to the Federal Reserve. All right, lads?” He was smiling broadly. “You can always come to me for help.”

“Can you get us revolvers?” Max was insistent.

“Yes, yes. I can get anything. Leave it to me, Max. When I think you boys are ready for them, you will have them. Is that satisfactory? One thing you have to learn, not to be too impetuous, my lad.”

He patted Max on the back.

“What’s the name of the book you have in your back pocket?” he said to me.

I took it out and showed it to him. “From Rags to Riches. Isn’t it kid stuff for a boy your age?”

I shrugged.

“You like books?” he asked, smiling.

“Yeh, I like to read.”

“Why don’t you get good books, join the Public Library?” “The library is for sissies.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you belong to my library. Go on, help yourself, in there.”

He gestured toward the toilet. “You got books in there?”

“Yes, go on help yourself, that’s the best place for the library. That’s where one can really concentrate on what one is reading.”

I walked into the toilet. Both walls from the floor to the ceiling were covered with shelves of books. They all had unfamiliar titles. The Education of Henry Adams, a book by a guy named Yeats[84], and others I never heard of.

“Well, have you found something you would like?” the Professor called to me.

I spied a title that made a little sense to me. Boswell’s Life of Johnson[85]. Yeh, I thought, this must be pretty good. All about Jack Johnson[86], the champ. I walked out with it. The Professor said, “What did you pick out?”

I showed it to him. He looked doubtfully at me. “Do you think you will like it and understand it?”

“Who you kiddin’?” I snorted.

“It’s kind of deep stuff for a kid,” he said.

“You don’t know Noodles, Professor, he’s a smart guy. The smartest guy on Delancey Street.”

“All right, Noodles,” he said, “after you finish it I’d like to know what you think of it.”

“Yeh, I’ll let you know,” I promised.