yesterday.”
He stared at me. I was starting to enjoy startling these men. “Where exactly did you see Fred Beller?”
“At the Waldorf-Astoria. I had lunch there with him and his wife.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“He was in town for the last week. He was in town when your group met.”
“Impossible.”
“He says he ran into Arthur Wien in California a few years ago.”
“I think Artie mentioned that. The Bellers were vacationing there. You actually saw him?”
“Saw him and spent an hour with him.”
“I wonder if he slips in and out of New York without telling your gang,” his wife said.
“Could be. New York’s a big place. You could be there a long time and not run into someone who lived a block away from you.”
“The men I’ve talked to all seem to have a fondness for the place where you grew up. Why doesn’t Fred Beller feel that way?”
“I could tell you that it’s a personal thing with him,” Bruce Kaplan said, “that he likes the Midwest, the slower pace, the greener grass. That’s probably what my friendshave told you. I’ll tell you the truth. Fred’s mother committed suicide when we were about thirteen years old. She was a disturbed, unhappy woman. I can’t tell you much more about it because it was something no one would talk to us about.”
“I can understand why.”
“Fred came home from school that day and found her.”
“How terrible.”
“Think about it. She knew he would find her. Think about a woman killing herself and knowing her son would walk into the apartment and find her body.”
He was right. It was an unimaginable thing to do. But I could see why the son would want to get as far away from that place, that city, those people as he could. “Did Arthur Wien write about it in his first book?”
“You got me. It’s so long since I read that book, I can’t remember what he said and what he didn’t say.”
“You should read it,” Arlene said. “It’s a good book, and a lot of what he writes is autobiographical.”
“I’m going to get it out of the library tomorrow.”
“I’ve got a copy I’ll be glad to give you. It’s even signed. The last time we saw Artie, I picked up a few copies and had him sign them. They make great gifts.” She got up and left the room, returning quickly with a thick paperback that she gave me.
“Thank you very much.”
“It’s not a first edition, but you know, he won’t be signing any more books.”
“Who else have you talked to?” Bruce asked.
“Dr. Horowitz on Friday, David Koch and Fred Beller yesterday, and Joe Meyer this afternoon.”
“How’s Joe doing?”
“He doesn’t look very good but he’s in good spirits.”
“Sounds like Joe.”
“They had a terrible tragedy in their family, you know,” Arlene said.
“Besides Mr. Meyer’s illness?”
“Their daughter was badly hurt in a car crash.”
“When did that happen?”
“A couple of years ago. I don’t remember exactly.”
“Mrs. Meyer showed me a picture of the daughter taking a bow after a performance.”
“It’s an old picture,” Arlene said. “She was badly injured. I don’t know whether she’ll ever be able to play again.”
“How awful.”
“I hope she gets her career back.”
“Well, what else can we tell you?” Bruce asked. “The names of our teachers? I can still remember a few. How we played stickball on Morris Avenue? Did anyone show you the jacket?”
“Jacket?”
“We had jackets made. On the back it said Morris Avenue Boys and on the front, right here over the pocket, our name. That’s half the reason we gave ourselves a name, so we could get jackets.”
“I didn’t know about the jackets. I toured your old homestead this afternoon with David Koch but he didn’t mention them. What I’m wondering—I talked to Dr. Greene last night. He’s the only one of the group who doesn’t want to see me.”
“Ernie’s always working, always busy, always going to international conferences. I
He stared at me. I was starting to enjoy startling these men. “Where exactly did you see Fred Beller?”
“At the Waldorf-Astoria. I had lunch there with him and his wife.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“He was in town for the last week. He was in town when your group met.”
“Impossible.”
“He says he ran into Arthur Wien in California a few years ago.”
“I think Artie mentioned that. The Bellers were vacationing there. You actually saw him?”
“Saw him and spent an hour with him.”
“I wonder if he slips in and out of New York without telling your gang,” his wife said.
“Could be. New York’s a big place. You could be there a long time and not run into someone who lived a block away from you.”
“The men I’ve talked to all seem to have a fondness for the place where you grew up. Why doesn’t Fred Beller feel that way?”
“I could tell you that it’s a personal thing with him,” Bruce Kaplan said, “that he likes the Midwest, the slower pace, the greener grass. That’s probably what my friendshave told you. I’ll tell you the truth. Fred’s mother committed suicide when we were about thirteen years old. She was a disturbed, unhappy woman. I can’t tell you much more about it because it was something no one would talk to us about.”
“I can understand why.”
“Fred came home from school that day and found her.”
“How terrible.”
“Think about it. She knew he would find her. Think about a woman killing herself and knowing her son would walk into the apartment and find her body.”
He was right. It was an unimaginable thing to do. But I could see why the son would want to get as far away from that place, that city, those people as he could. “Did Arthur Wien write about it in his first book?”
“You got me. It’s so long since I read that book, I can’t remember what he said and what he didn’t say.”
“You should read it,” Arlene said. “It’s a good book, and a lot of what he writes is autobiographical.”
“I’m going to get it out of the library tomorrow.”
“I’ve got a copy I’ll be glad to give you. It’s even signed. The last time we saw Artie, I picked up a few copies and had him sign them. They make great gifts.” She got up and left the room, returning quickly with a thick paperback that she gave me.
“Thank you very much.”
“It’s not a first edition, but you know, he won’t be signing any more books.”
“Who else have you talked to?” Bruce asked.
“Dr. Horowitz on Friday, David Koch and Fred Beller yesterday, and Joe Meyer this afternoon.”
“How’s Joe doing?”
“He doesn’t look very good but he’s in good spirits.”
“Sounds like Joe.”
“They had a terrible tragedy in their family, you know,” Arlene said.
“Besides Mr. Meyer’s illness?”
“Their daughter was badly hurt in a car crash.”
“When did that happen?”
“A couple of years ago. I don’t remember exactly.”
“Mrs. Meyer showed me a picture of the daughter taking a bow after a performance.”
“It’s an old picture,” Arlene said. “She was badly injured. I don’t know whether she’ll ever be able to play again.”
“How awful.”
“I hope she gets her career back.”
“Well, what else can we tell you?” Bruce asked. “The names of our teachers? I can still remember a few. How we played stickball on Morris Avenue? Did anyone show you the jacket?”
“Jacket?”
“We had jackets made. On the back it said Morris Avenue Boys and on the front, right here over the pocket, our name. That’s half the reason we gave ourselves a name, so we could get jackets.”
“I didn’t know about the jackets. I toured your old homestead this afternoon with David Koch but he didn’t mention them. What I’m wondering—I talked to Dr. Greene last night. He’s the only one of the group who doesn’t want to see me.”
“Ernie’s always working, always busy, always going to international conferences. I
Similar Books
