of the courtyard were painted white to better reflect the light. I turned back from the window and slipped on my underwear and trousers and walked quietly to the bathroom to wash.
When I had finished washing I went back to my room and sat down. I had to get used to this. It was strange not to be sleeping in a room with a bunch of boys in it, and I missed the morning horseplay and jokes. I heard someone walking in the hall outside my door. I walked over and opened it. It was my aunt.
“Good morning, Frankie. You’re up early.” She smiled. “Yes’m,” I said, “I’m used to it.”
“Did you wash already?” she asked. “Un-hunh.” I replied, “I’m all dressed.”
“Then would you mind running down to the baker for some rolls?” she asked. “It will save me the trouble.”
“I’ll be glad to, Aunt Bertha,” I answered.
She gave me some change, told me what store she wanted me to go to, and I left the house.
It was near seven and people were beginning to go to work. I picked up the stuff she sent me for, and bought a News on the way back.
Once in the house, I put the stuff on the kitchen table and sat down to read the paper. A few minutes later my aunt came in and put on the coffee. About ten minutes later my uncle came in, sat down at the table and said: “Good morning, Frankie. Did you sleep all right?”
“Fine, Uncle Morris,” I said.
“I see you have the paper,” he said. “Anything new in it?”
“Nothing much,” I answered and held it towards him. “You want to see it?” “Thanks,” he said and took it from me.
Aunt Bertha came over with the plate of toast and put glasses of orange juice in front of us. Without looking at it, my uncle reached over his paper and picked it up. I drank mine slowly.
Then we had some eggs and then coffee and some pieces of Danish pastry that I had brought up from the store. About the time we finished, the kids came in and sat down.
“Good morning,” they said in unison, and going to each side of their father, they kissed him on the cheek. He gave them each a squeeze and went back to reading his paper and drinking a second cup of coffee. Then they went over to Aunt Bertha and kissed her. She
bent to kiss them and whispered something.
They came over to me and kissed me. I laughed. They pulled up chairs to the table and sat down.
Uncle Morris looked at his watch. “Time for me to go,” he said. “Are you going up to school today, Frankie?” he asked.
“I guess so,” I said.
“Well,” he said, “let me know tonight how you make out.” He kissed his wife and went out.
“What school are you going to, Frankie?” asked Essie, the younger. “George Washington High,” I answered.
“I go to P. S. 181,” she said.
“That’s nice,” I said. We were quiet for a while. I didn’t know what else we could talk about.
Aunt Bertha gave the kids their breakfast and then sat down. She smiled at me. “Did you like your breakfast?”
“It was swell, Aunt Bertha.” “I’m glad,” she said.
“I think it’s time you got started,” she said. “You don’t want to be late the first day you go there.”
“No,” I said, “I don’t.” I went into my room and put on my tie and jacket—then back into the kitchen. “So long,” I said.
Aunt Bertha got up from the table and walked to the door with me. In the foyer she gave me some money. “This is your allowance for the week,” she said, “for lunches and things. If you need any more, let me know.”
It was three dollars. “No,” I said. “It’s enough. I don’t think I’ll need any more.
Thanks.”
“Good luck,” she said, and I closed the door behind me. I felt funny. I didn’t know why. Everything seemed so different. Maybe it was because I didn’t have to attend Mass before I went to school.
George Washington High School was at 191st Street and Audubon Avenue. It stood on the top of a hill overlooking the Heights and across the Harlem River to the Bronx. It was a
When I had finished washing I went back to my room and sat down. I had to get used to this. It was strange not to be sleeping in a room with a bunch of boys in it, and I missed the morning horseplay and jokes. I heard someone walking in the hall outside my door. I walked over and opened it. It was my aunt.
“Good morning, Frankie. You’re up early.” She smiled. “Yes’m,” I said, “I’m used to it.”
“Did you wash already?” she asked. “Un-hunh.” I replied, “I’m all dressed.”
“Then would you mind running down to the baker for some rolls?” she asked. “It will save me the trouble.”
“I’ll be glad to, Aunt Bertha,” I answered.
She gave me some change, told me what store she wanted me to go to, and I left the house.
It was near seven and people were beginning to go to work. I picked up the stuff she sent me for, and bought a News on the way back.
Once in the house, I put the stuff on the kitchen table and sat down to read the paper. A few minutes later my aunt came in and put on the coffee. About ten minutes later my uncle came in, sat down at the table and said: “Good morning, Frankie. Did you sleep all right?”
“Fine, Uncle Morris,” I said.
“I see you have the paper,” he said. “Anything new in it?”
“Nothing much,” I answered and held it towards him. “You want to see it?” “Thanks,” he said and took it from me.
Aunt Bertha came over with the plate of toast and put glasses of orange juice in front of us. Without looking at it, my uncle reached over his paper and picked it up. I drank mine slowly.
Then we had some eggs and then coffee and some pieces of Danish pastry that I had brought up from the store. About the time we finished, the kids came in and sat down.
“Good morning,” they said in unison, and going to each side of their father, they kissed him on the cheek. He gave them each a squeeze and went back to reading his paper and drinking a second cup of coffee. Then they went over to Aunt Bertha and kissed her. She
bent to kiss them and whispered something.
They came over to me and kissed me. I laughed. They pulled up chairs to the table and sat down.
Uncle Morris looked at his watch. “Time for me to go,” he said. “Are you going up to school today, Frankie?” he asked.
“I guess so,” I said.
“Well,” he said, “let me know tonight how you make out.” He kissed his wife and went out.
“What school are you going to, Frankie?” asked Essie, the younger. “George Washington High,” I answered.
“I go to P. S. 181,” she said.
“That’s nice,” I said. We were quiet for a while. I didn’t know what else we could talk about.
Aunt Bertha gave the kids their breakfast and then sat down. She smiled at me. “Did you like your breakfast?”
“It was swell, Aunt Bertha.” “I’m glad,” she said.
“I think it’s time you got started,” she said. “You don’t want to be late the first day you go there.”
“No,” I said, “I don’t.” I went into my room and put on my tie and jacket—then back into the kitchen. “So long,” I said.
Aunt Bertha got up from the table and walked to the door with me. In the foyer she gave me some money. “This is your allowance for the week,” she said, “for lunches and things. If you need any more, let me know.”
It was three dollars. “No,” I said. “It’s enough. I don’t think I’ll need any more.
Thanks.”
“Good luck,” she said, and I closed the door behind me. I felt funny. I didn’t know why. Everything seemed so different. Maybe it was because I didn’t have to attend Mass before I went to school.
George Washington High School was at 191st Street and Audubon Avenue. It stood on the top of a hill overlooking the Heights and across the Harlem River to the Bronx. It was a
Similar Books
