Gables Court Read online

  “No, sorry…” He backs up, head down.

  “Anyone else?” I ask, arms folded.

  On a playground cleansed by heavy rain, the swings, ball diamond, and faces of laughing boys washed away, I stand alone, my arms outstretched to the thundering sky, the dangling rat in my hand! Lightning illuminates our eyes! I absorb the darkness and light.

  I plop a butterscotch Lifesaver in my mouth and saunter home.

  No rat down my shirt this time. I came back. Now they know who I am.

  5

  His pajamas on the floor, Samuel slept fitfully in the heat, jumped up when feeling the creep of tiny legs across his bare chest. He flicked his hand down, brushing away something thick and greasy. Rolling out of bed, the sheet wrapped around him binding his legs, he inched to the nightstand, reached up, and turned on the light.

  A giant, blackish brown cockroach waddled across the mattress. Its small wings fluttered; a short flight and it landed with a plop on the pillow.

  Samuel smelled the stink.

  He untangled himself and spent the next few hours until dawn in the bathroom, the door closed and locked.

  . . . . .

  In the morning, when Lipman saw Samuel walking toward him, the manager stopped polishing his car and went into the building.

  “Mr. Lipman,” Samuel called out after entering the Gables Court office and finding no one behind the counter. He stood and waited, heard a television in another room. Hesitant to bother the manager at home, but not wanting to spend another night with a giant bug, Samuel knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” a woman said, her voice low and deep.

  Samuel walked into an apartment almost like his, the difference, a window and air-conditioner in the living room. A corpulent woman wearing a flowered muumuu, a beeper near one hand, her head propped up by pillows, lay sprawled on the bed in the middle of the room, a humming, in wall air-conditioner above her head. Their faces and bodies looking exactly like newborns, rows of dolls on tall shelves stared down, their glass eyes shiny in the light from candles burning in front of them.

  “It’s Sunday, schmeckle,” Lipman said, his face red, the skin on his blistered thumb more pus-filled than the day before. “I don’t work on Sunday.”

  “I’m sorry…” Samuel turned to leave.

  “Don’t pay any attention to him,” the woman said. “He’s an idiot.”

  “Rosalyn,” Lipman’s voice quivered.

  “Get me a glass of water,” she told him. “I want to have a little chat with our new tenant. So, you’re from Boston.”

  “Brookline,” Samuel said. “Just outside the city.”

  “What does your father do for a living?”

  “He’s a businessman.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “I’m not sure…He doesn’t talk about his work.”

  “And you’re not curious?” Rosalyn raised a thick eyebrow.

  “Not anymore,” Samuel answered. He saw in her bright red lips and heavy blue eye- shadow reminders of his father’s colorful world he could never enter.

  “But he’s successful, right?” Rosalyn said. “You have a big house.”

  “Not much bigger than the other ones on the street.”

  “You’re from Brookline, Harry and I grew up in Brooklyn. We lived in apartments.” She looked over at her husband. “Well, give it to me.”

  Lipman handed her the glass; Rosalyn gulped the water down, the sagging skin under her chin shaking rhythmically with each swallow.

  “This weather, I’ll never get used to it.” She wiped her face with a Kleenex, dropped it onto the pile of other makeup smeared tissues on the bed. “Harry! The air-conditioner isn’t cooling! You’ve set it too low!”

  “I checked earlier, Rosalyn. Remember?”

  “Probably you weren’t wearing your glasses. Check again! I know what it feels like!”

  Lipman leaned over the bed.

  “It’s on high,” he told her.

  “Then bring me another one—today. I’m not going to lie here, dying of the heat. Take a unit from one of the vacant apartments. Make sure it works.”

  “Yes, Rosalyn,” Lipman said. “What would you like for lunch?”

  “Are you trying to embarrass me?” She glared at him, her scowl pleating the fleshy folds of her face. “Give Samuel the idea I spend my life thinking about food?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Lipman rocked from one foot to the other. “You had breakfast—”

  “A small one,” she told Samuel.

  “And I know you want your lunch on time.”

  “What I want is the laundry done and a new air-conditioner. Think you can remember all that?”

  He hurried away.

  “I have a condition,” she informed Samuel.

  “You have to stay in bed?” he asked.

  “No, I can get up. It’s just difficult. My head starts spinning and I sweat. It’s easier just to lie here. But I’m not a lazy person. When I was younger, I swam at the Y in Brooklyn. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No,” Samuel answered.

  “Harry and I come from large families. Our apartments were small. When my mother fried latkes, onions and grease made the whole place stink. What kind of food does your mother make?”

  “She doesn’t cook,” Samuel said. “Our maid does.”

  “And cleans your big house, of course. How does your mother spend her time? Shopping with girlfriends?”

  “Maybe. I know she’s at the country club a lot. And there’s parties.”

  “Does your father enjoy them?”

  “He never goes.”

  “I see,” and Rosalyn smiled. “So, you’re a lawyer.”

  “My first day is tomorrow.”

  “Harry went to trade school, don’t know why, he can’t do a damn thing. He was useless even before he got that infection in his thumb. God knows what it is. His skin blisters, peels, heals, then the whole thing starts over again. Someday I’m going to find that finger floating in the toilet!” The sound a deep rumble, partly gastric, Rosalyn laughed unpleasantly. “Before I got my condition, I was an electrologist. Do you like my babies?”

  “Are they here?” Samuel asked, glancing around the room.

  “Above you,” Rosalyn said. “On the shelves!”

  “You mean the dolls…”

  “Not dolls! Replicates! Exact copies of infants! Aren’t they beautiful!”

  “Yes,” Samuel said. “Very life-like. I see why you love them.”

  “Do you think I’m stupid?” she asked, pushing herself a little higher on her pillow, her dark eyes bulging like a frog’s. “Did I say I love these pieces of plastic?”

  “No, ma’am,” Samuel answered, stepping back, again wanting to leave.

  “That’s what childless women do. They collect baby dolls. I can’t have children. I’m sure it’s because of my condition. We also can’t adopt. The agency told us that. Harry is too old and I’m…well, when the case worker visited here, she saw how I struggle with my health. But those people have no hearts. I would be a wonderful mother.

  Do you know anything about adoptions?”

  “No, it wasn’t taught in law school,” Samuel answered.

  “Maybe you’ll learn. Why did you want to see Harry?”

  “Last night, there was a giant insect in my room. It had wings, flew, and gave off a real bad smell.”

  “That’s a palmetto bug. Florida is full of them. Keep your window closed.”


  “The air-conditioner blocks it…”

  “Then you’re all set. Is your air cool?”

  “No, and I was hoping…”

  “Mine either! Harry with his settings! Thank you for visiting, Samuel. Feel free to come by anytime. I like company.”

  The woman picked up the beeper.

  Outside, Samuel quickly stepped to the side, barely avoided colliding with Lipman as the manager rushed from the laundry room.

  “Where’s my lunch!” Rosalyn called out.

  At the small oval pool, its green water thick under sunlight melting away thin clouds, Samuel unbuttoned the top button of his white shirt. Near him, three college boys in swimming trunks raced to twist their towels into rats’ tails.

  “Fucker!” Not yet able to defend himself, the squat one, his bleached hair permed into short curls, rubbed his back. “Shit—Gary…”

  Tall, broad shouldered, his face angular and bony, Gary struck again, the towel’s end hitting the same spot. “Bam, Benny!” and he laughed.

  Seeing his chance, the third boy, hairy, with long, thinning hair, crept up behind Gary who turned suddenly and snapped his towel into the attacker’s chest.

  “Let’s get him, Wolfman!” Benny charged Gary. Instead of joining in, Wolfman lashed Benny’s back.

  “I’m out of here!” Benny said, running for the pool. All three boys cannonballed into the water.

  Samuel avoided most of the splash.

  Wolfman swam to the pool’s edge.

  “Nice khakis. Did we get you?” His tanned face and black whiskers made his broad, toothy grin even whiter.

  “A little,” Samuel said. “I’m fine.”

  “Too bad.” Pushing his cupped hands forward, he arched a spray, soaking Samuel’s pants.

  “Nice one!” Benny yelled.

  Gary dove, came up beside Wolfman.

  “You’re an asshole,” he said, looking down at the shorter boy.

  “I know,” Wolfman anwered.

  When climbing out, Gary pushed Wolfman’s head under water.

  “Sorry about that,” he said to Samuel. “They’ll dry. That’s the great thing about Florida, the sun! Where are you from?”

  “Boston.”

  “Cold in the winter! Those nerds farting around in the pool are my high school buddies. Benny Harris is the one who looks like Harpo. The other one, Mort Golding, we call him Wolfman. He’s been hairy since fourth grade. I’m Gary Ambrose. We’re from South Jersey.”

  “Samuel Baas,” Samuel reached to shake hands.

  “Yeah, man, slap me five.”

  Samuel did, partially missing Gary’s palm.

  “I’m looking forward to starting school.” Gary said. “Benny, Wolfman, and me knew we were going to college. We all have high lottery numbers and sure as hell weren’t enlisting. No one wants to end up in Nam! What about you?”

  “I’m 4F,” Samuel said. “I didn’t pass the physical.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “A heart condition. I had a doctor’s note.”

  “You’re a lucky man! You don’t have to worry about the draft board ever getting to your number. I won’t feel totally safe until the war is over. But it can’t go on much longer. What classes are you taking?”

  “I finished school,” Samuel said. “I’m a lawyer.”

  “No way! How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “Damn, you sure don’t look it! I thought you were a freshman like us! Hey, Dipshits! Big news! This guy’s a goddamn lawyer!”

  “Yeah? Well if you want to see something big, take a look at this!” Benny pulled his swim trunks down, then quickly back up.

  Wolfman jumped on Benny’s shoulders.

  “Charge!” he yelled while swinging the leaf skimmer like a sword.

  “Put that back!” Lipman’s face red as he ran over. “And stop all the racket! You’re giving Rosalyn a headache! She feels dizzy!”

  “Sorry, Harry,” Benny said.

  “Me too,” Wolfman also looking sincere, then both boys began swaying as if they had vertigo.

  “Schmucks!” A beep, and Lipman rushed back to his apartment.

  “Benny and Wolfman are morons,” Gary said. “But that doesn’t matter. They have it made. Benny’s dad is a podiatrist. Wolfman’s family is loaded. Those two won’t have to do shit with their lives. They’ll inherit plenty. Their tuition is all paid. I saved enough for the first semester, I’ll figure out how to get the rest. My roommates are here for the sun and chicks. I like that too. Girl’s love me!” He grinned, ran his hand through his long blond hair. “Difference is, I want an education. I’m not going to end up like my old man, pushing a broom in some dump of a school. A lawyer...Never met one before. You’ll make good money.”

  “I guess so,” Samuel said.

  “You don’t care?”

  “I’ve always had an allowance and my bills paid.”

  “I won’t hold that against you. Hell, I’m friends with those other rich boys too! And you’re not planning to sit on your ass. You’ve got a job.” He slapped Samuel on the back.

  “I gotta pinch one off,” Benny said, walking past them and toward the building facing the pool, the Jersey boys’ efficiency the corner apartment.

  “Slobs,” Gary said. “Clothes everywhere. But they did me a favor living here, so I shouldn’t complain. They could afford better. I can’t. Here comes the Wolf Man. There’s only two things he cares about, eating and screwing.”

  “Let’s get some Chinese,” Wolfman said to Gary, water from his matted chest hair dripping onto Samuel’s black, laced shoes.

  “You buying?”

  “Not for El Gordo in their taking a shit. He can pay for himself.”

  “Wolfman, this is Samuel. He’s cool.”

  “Sure, if you say so. Ready? I’m hungry.”

  “Want to come along?” Gary asked Samuel.

  “I think I’ll take a walk, check out what’s around.”

  “Fucking cars and Dixie Highway,” Wolfman said. “I’m leaving.”

  “See you later, Sam.” As Gary turned to go, Benny flung the apartment door open and stuck his head out.

  “You’ve go to see this one! Biggest turd I ever dropped!”

  Wolfman ran ahead.

  Samuel passed their apartment and crossed a small yard, mostly sand and weeds. At the third Gables Court building he turned toward Dixie Highway and immediately felt buffeted by air the speeding cars and trucks compressed into waves, the traffic visible to him as streaks of metal floating a silver glow toward the white campus buildings across the busy street.

  A mile later, he stood outside the office building where he would begin his new job.

  Sunlight mixing in blue from the sky, coated the windows. Samuel hoped he could find inside this building of chrome and glass colors other than shades of gray. Perhaps the job, arranged for by his father, would bring them closer.

  Maybe he will become more than a shadow…

  For dinner, Samuel again brought food back from Burger King.

  During the night, he awoke occasionally, searched his sheets for hidden palmetto bugs, then went back to sleep.

  6

  He pushed me down. Rubbed snow in my face.

  But that was before.

  Now when he tries, I tumble him to the ground.

  “Want to eat this?” I ask him, holding a handful of snow. Then I let him go.

  He
once chased me, throwing ice balls.

  I could do the same.

  I don’t.

  I came back. But I’m not like him.

  7

  Samuel took the elevator to the penthouse.

  Her skin bronze, her long hair black and shiny, the receptionist smiled.

  “Hello, Mr. Baas. Mr. Eldridge is expecting you.”

  Samuel saw she had perhaps opened her blouse one button too many and that her mini skirt—or a skirt hiked up by her sitting down, he couldn’t tell which from his quick glance under her desk—made her legs look very long. Samuel liked girls, but he tried not to think about sex.

  The woman’s dark brown eyes, wide and upturned as if pressed upward by her high cheekbones, pulled him toward her.

  Eyes. Legs. He didn’t know where to look.

  “Sir, you can go in.” the sir sounding more teasing than respectful.

  “Yes…thank you…”

  He pushed open one of the two large, brass doors, RHB Enterprises embossed in the metal, and walked over to where an old woman sat typing at a desk piled high with files.

  “Hi, I’m Samuel Baas. I have—”

  “First office,” she told him without looking up, a cigarette dangling from her mouth.

  Samuel knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” the man said.

  Tall, wearing a black, pinstripe suit, his blond hair parted to the side and combed straight across, Durwin Eldridge putted a golf ball across the dark wooden floor and into a cup. After leaning the putter against his uncluttered desk, he turned and with a small smile, almost a smirk, looked at Samuel, the lawyer’s eyes Germanic blue.

  “You’re perspiring.”

  “I walked here,” Samuel said.

  “Really? I know you are unfit for military service but I wasn’t told you couldn’t drive.”

  “I can, Mr. Eldridge. I flew down. My car will be in Miami in a few days.”