Saturday, May 1, 2010

Disorder, Redro, Papi, Art Classes, Southside Mission

EIGHTY-TWO

Disorder

 

Before leaving for school on the morning of Friday, October 31, 1975, Angel and Eddy got dressed in the Halloween costumes they had chosen for that year. The school children had been encouraged to come to school that day in costume. They were also promised special treats and a school-wide Halloween party to be held before dismissal that day. The boys were excited!

Julia told them she would meet them on the sidewalk outside after school and that she would take them around the neighborhood trick-or-treating. She sternly warned them to wait for her and not to venture out on their own.

Angel wore the clothing of a pirate. He had on black shoes, a pair of brown pants, and the torn-up remains of a black dress shirt with no sleeves, which he wore over a white long-sleeved shirt. Around his waist, he had a red sash tied in a knot on his right side, with some of its material sloppily hanging down to his knee. He wore a black bandana decorated with little stars, tied and secured at the back of his head. Using finger paint, he fashioned a mustache and beard.

And he carried a sword made of cardboard, which he had carefully crafted to look as real as possible.

With an eager desire for approval, he asked, “How do I look, Mommy?”

“Shiver me timbers!” Julia playfully responded, delighting Angel.

Eddy’s costume wasn’t as elaborate. He wanted to look like a hobo, so he wore dungarees torn in various places, an old brown tee shirt with several bleach stains, suspenders, and an oversized sports jacket that Tyrone had loaned him for the day. He dirtied his face with black chalk, especially around his eyes, and he wore an old fedora the neighbor Rafy had given him. Julia had pinned a baseball cap to the inside lining of the hat so it would more-or-less fit the small crown of his head.

“What about me, Mommy?” Eddy asked.

“Well, doggonit, don’t be getting any ideas about jumping on a train for a free ride!”

They all laughed.

Almost all of the school children came that day wearing costumes of every imaginable type. There were princesses, superheroes, monsters, vampires, nuns, wizards, kings, and many other imaginative outfits. And the whole day was filled with lots of fun and joy.In every classroom, before the children left that day, teachers handed out large paper trick-or-treat bags and warned them to be careful walking the streets, but to have a good time.

Julia had told them she would be waiting outside the school at three o’clock, but when the boys met each other outside after dismissal, she wasn’t there. Many parents were there to meet their children. Some even wore costumes themselves. Gradually, all of the students dispersed with those who came to collect them, but by three-thirty, only Angel and Eddy remained on the sidewalk in front of the building.

They both held their trick-or-treat bags tightly and looked about in every direction for their mom.

They kept looking as they stood and waited, and waited some more, but Julia never came.

“Where’s Mommy, where is she?” Eddy cried to Angel several times. 

“I don’t know Eddy, but I think we should probably go home to see if she’s okay.” 

And so, they slowly walked together the couple of blocks back home to Moore Street. Both boys were afraid, disappointed, and mad, all at the same time, as they walked home in silence together.

Once inside the building, and as they walked up the steps to the third floor, they could hear Amanda crying loudly, something not very often heard and quite unusual for her.

They opened the door to the apartment, and entering, they found Amanda sitting on a filthy kitchen floor completely naked. She had crap all over her legs, held her dirty hands to her mouth, and had a look of horror on her face as she unconsolably and loudly sobbed.

Julia was lying on the couch, completely asleep and obviously and absolutely unaware of the sad and anxious weeping of her daughter. On the floor next to the couch was an empty bottle, just lying there.

“Eddy, it looks like Mommy has had too much apple juice again. Let’s get Amanda cleaned up and back into her crib. It doesn’t look like we’re going out again today.”

Eddy started to cry nearly as loud as Amanda. And Angel, throwing his sword and trick-or-treat bag onto the kitchen table, got to work cleaning while trying to bring some kind of order back into their home.


 

EIGHTY-THREE

Redro

 

By the spring of 1976, Angel had clearly become an energetic and very beautiful little boy. He had penetrating dark brown eyes, shiny black hair, a wide smile, and a very gregarious personality. It never took long for Angel to capture the hearts of others. He was “everybody’s friend,” and this was apparent even after just a first encounter. The boy was greatly loved, even by those who barely knew him.

Drina would often wrap her arms around him tightly and say, “How’s my sweetheart, my gorgeous little Angel doing today?”

And he loved being loved.

Always small for his age, many in the neighborhood called him “Redro” or simply “Red,” nicknames coming from the Spanish word “redrojo” meaning “the runt.” 

To many adults, and children too, his small stature served to amplify his cuteness. However, as on all playgrounds, the bullies would sometimes attempt to use his size to their advantage. Ever conscious of his size and his nickname “Redro,” Angel sometimes felt the need to prove to other children he was not afraid of anything.  He often won these sporadic fist fights with neighborhood bullies, but typically came home with bruises and an occasional black eye for Julia to nurse.

One time on the street in front of his apartment, Angel fought with a nine-year-old boy named Alvaro Molina. The other boy had smashed a bottle against the steps of the building, and Angel’s neighbor Rafy shouted from his window, saying, “Go away, or I’ll call the police on you.” Alvaro taunted, “You can’t do nothin’ to me, old man. You’re nothin’ but a feo viejo who can’t even walk without a cane!”

Angel had been coming across the street from Hodes. He yelled at Alvaro, defending both his home and his neighbor. “Get lost, you punk,” he screamed. Then Alvaro rushed him and pushed him into the gutter, shouting, “Mind your own business, Redro, you little piece of shit!” Angel struck back with fury. Needing to protect his honor, to stand up for Rafy, and to defend his home, he attacked Alvaro with rage.

The two boys kicked and punched and knocked each other to the ground where they wrestled and pulled on each other’s hair and clothes and yelled vulgar insults at one another.

Finally, Angel pinned Alvaro to the ground and sat on him. He punched him in the face, giving the older boy two black eyes, and then the fight was over.

Alvaro ran off, swearing, “I’ll be back with my brother ’cause I ain’t gonna let a fuckin’ little Redro get away with nothin’.”

Rafy, still sitting in his window, thanked Angel for standing up to Alvaro, but he added, “Red, it’s always better to avoid trouble, but I gotta have respect for a man who knows the meaning of chivalry. But pórtese bien, chico . . . be a good boy.”

Although small for his age, Angel would not usually let others push him around. No way!

Angel didn’t always win.

Once, in July of 1976, while Angel and Eddy were in the nearby playground, four older kids, all at least ten years old, surrounded seven-year-old Eddy and slapped and kicked him, and then pushed him to the ground. They taunted him, one of the boys saying, “You’re just a no-good hijo de puta, son of a prostitute, and scum like you ain’t allowed here.”

A middle-aged and very overweight woman known to people in the neighborhood as Lolly had been passing by. She saw what was happening and angrily chased the older boys away from Eddy.

“If you little brats don’t get away from that child, I am going to put my foot where the sun doesn’t shine!” she screamed, as they took off running.

Eddy, crying, distraught, and angry over the incident, clung to Lolly as she helped him to his feet.

Nearby, Angel stood helplessly with his back against a fence. He looked stunned and, bawling, mumbled, “Nobody can push Eddy around and say things like that, but I didn’t do anything to be on his side.”

Angel felt defeated. For the first time, he had been forced to stand helplessly by while someone hurt his little brother.

Lolly knew Julia from when she worked at Yolanda’s. She knew they were her children and was aware of Julia’s reputation, but those kinds of things didn’t matter to her all that much.

She walked the two home, stopping to buy them Italian ices from a vendor pushing a cart near the corner of Humboldt and Moore Streets. “It’s a shame kids have to be so mean to one another,” she said to Julia as she arrived with the boys at the door of their apartment.

That day, Angel resolved never to betray Eddy again. He never forgot what happened. He remembered how helpless he felt and how, in his eight-year-old mind, he should have done something to protect Eddy, but didn’t or couldn’t.


 

EIGHTY-FOUR

Papi?

 

Angel turned nine in March of 1977, his third-grade year.  During that spring, he began to spend a lot of time at home isolating himself with drawing projects or just sitting in the front window watching the world go by. In spite of his normally energetic demeanor and loving disposition, there was something sad about him, something that caused him to withdraw from everything. Sometimes he would sit and stare at nothing, and something in those beautiful dark eyes seemed terribly far away.

From the third-floor window of the Moore Street apartment, which overlooked a busy commercial street, Angel would often study the many people who passed below. There were people of every race and color, panhandlers, hawkers, street evangelists, shoppers, the Hasidic landlords, assorted men, women and children, and the ever-present police.

His spot in the window was also the stage of a tremendous fantasy world. There, Angel would sometimes pretend he was a king in a castle and controlled all the people below. Or he would think of himself as a superhero, watching and waiting for the moment when he would have to rescue someone from danger.

But his most habitual thoughts, as he sat in the window and watched the people below, especially when he saw men with children, were about his mysterious missing father.

Angel wanted a papi, just like Berto had, a nice man who would work during the day and come home at night to stay with his family. He wanted his family to have a real “man of the house” who could protect them and help his mother, somebody like Mr. Gutierrez or Mr. Thompson, who always seemed to be with their families.

Julia often said to him, “Angel, you are the man of this house, and we can manage without a big man if we have to,” but he knew she didn’t really mean it in the real way, and he knew she wanted somebody like that too.

When Angel watched from the window and saw other children with their dads, he would dream about what it would be like to have his own. These thoughts saddened him because the only thing his mother had ever told him about his father was that he had left a long time ago and would never return.

He convinced himself the reason his father was gone was because he had been a soldier captured by some unnamed enemy in a distant land. Someday, Angel thought, his own papi would appear at the door of their apartment and tell him how much he loved him and missed him.

Often, as he gazed down at the street below, Angel would scan the crowd, hoping to see that stranger who would be looking up, searching for his son in the window, but he was never there.


EIGHTY-FIVE

What Good are Art Classes Anyway?

 

Angel began the fourth grade in September of 1977.

His favorite subject in school that year was art class. He loved to draw and would often make pictures depicting his active fantasy life. He had a collection of drawings. Most were simple pencil sketches, but some were elaborately colored with magic markers or chalk. He stopped using crayons by the time he was four because he said they were “too babyish.”

Julia hung a few of Angel’s drawings on the refrigerator in the kitchen and on the walls of the apartment. His favorite drawing, and one Julia loved as well, was one he had made when he was six. Done in brilliant colors, it hung on the wall above the bed in the front room.

On the right side of the page was a woman floating on a sea of brilliant light, as if on the sun itself. She wore a large, hooded, ragged brown shawl and looked cautiously confident as she crouched, clutching three small children tightly within its folds. Each seemed content and secure within the safety of her arms.

The woman looked toward the distant threat of a very large monster-like creature floating on the left side of the page. The monster was incredibly ugly and seemed to be spitting something like blood from his grossly contorted mouth. The look of rage on his face was both incredible and harrowing. The lower part of the monster’s body faded into a very dark abyss filling the whole left side of the page.

An army of numerous small yellow angel-like creatures, each holding a flaming sword defensively toward the monster, formed a shield across the entire length of the page. They stood between the woman and the monster, dividing the light from the darkness.

At the bottom of the page, in simple block letters written in the script of six-year-old Angel, was the word:

LOVE

Very early during that fourth-grade school year, close to the end of September, Angel’s teacher, Miss McHugh, had reported to Julia that his artistic skills were far superior to those of most children she had ever taught. She encouraged her to look into a special art program for gifted children she believed was offered at the Pratt Institute on Willoughby Avenue, but right in front of Angel, Julia laughed at the suggestion.

I can barely manage to put food on the table and pay the rent, much less throw away money on some fancy art program, she thought, but she never said those words out loud.

Besides, she thought, he draws good enough, and what good are art classes anyway?


 

EIGHTY-SIX

Preparing for Thanksgiving at the Southside Mission

 

By the time Angel was nine years old, he had become more than accustomed to the visits to soup kitchens and food pantries Julia regularly made with the family. There were always long lines of people waiting to be served at those places, and the lines always seemed crowded with desperate people, not very unlike what they themselves had become.

Standing in those lines had become for him an experience of shame and humiliation.

They would wait together while strangers, and some who by then had become familiar faces, huddled around them, sometimes with a kind of solemn silence, and at other times engaging in what seemed like useless small talk and occasional forced laughter. Each of those clients, as the kitchens and pantries called them, hoped for the same bags of groceries, cans of food, boxes of cereal, powdered milk, or whatever else happened to be available on the days those places were open. The sense of shame he felt as he watched his mother accept whatever was handed to her was simply tremendous.

But more than anything, he hated the possibility of being seen in those places by someone he knew, maybe a classmate or another kid from his block, or even by one of his teachers or other adults from the neighborhood for whom he had respect and admiration. He always hoped none of them would ever know.

Angel didn’t fully understand what poverty was, and he certainly didn’t know about all the reasons his family had been taken to those lines. But he was old enough to understand the feelings of embarrassment and discomfort those realities caused. He thought other families, indeed most of those he knew, never needed to beg for food.

He was old enough to know other people bought food in corner bodegas and big grocery stores, while his family couldn’t always do so, and instead would often have to stand in those lines waiting for strangers to give it to them. Sometimes, while waiting in those lines, his thoughts led him to feelings of anger towards his mother, but he couldn’t fully understand why.

On Wednesday, November 23, 1977, Angel and Eddy were dismissed after a half-day of classes at P.S. 147. In most of the classrooms that day, the children spent much of the morning cutting and pasting different-colored pieces of construction paper and creating Happy Thanksgiving cards to take home to their folks. Angel was particularly proud of his version, which depicted a large, smiling turkey with lots of brown and gold feathers.

Stepping away from her usual routine because of the early dismissal in anticipation of Thanksgiving the following day, Julia met the boys outside the school. On the way there, she had struggled to push Amanda’s stroller with her blue two-wheeled shopping cart folded up and hanging heavily from one side. The boys were expecting her that day.

When Eddy saw her, he rushed to his mother and excitedly gave her the Thanksgiving card he had created just a short time earlier.

“That’s lovely, Eddy,” she said before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him.

Angel appeared a moment later, his own card in hand, but he didn’t show any enthusiasm about it at all, and he immediately tucked it into a pouch hanging from Amanda’s stroller. Julia hugged him as well, but Angel seemed indifferent to her affection.

Julia reminded them they needed to walk all the way over to Marcy Avenue and the Southside Community Mission at Transfiguration Church as soon as possible.

“Yeah, I know. How could I forget,” Angel responded.

Amanda was in her usual stroller and as quiet as ever. Angel pushed the stroller, with the food cart still attached, most of the way to Marcy, as Julia held Eddy’s hand during much of the long walk from Bushwick Avenue and through the neighborhood.

When they arrived at the Southside Mission at about 12:35 p.m., there was an unusually long line outside. It stretched all the way to the end of the block. Father Bryan Karvelis, the church’s pastor, as well as two religious sisters, were walking up and down the line, greeting and welcoming those who waited.

One of the sisters, Kathryn Margaret Walsh, known to everyone as Sister Peggy, approached Julia and said, “Oh my, it’s so good to see you today, Julia, and now I finally get to meet your beautiful children!”

Julia shook Sister Peggy’s hand as she responded, “Thank you, Sister. Yes, this is my oldest, Angel, and this is Eddy. And I think you’ve already met Amanda.”

“Yes, I remember this little sweetie pie, and she’s as cute as ever!” she responded.

Angel took the Thanksgiving card from the pouch hanging behind the stroller and offered it to the sister.

“I made this today in school, and you can have it if you want,” he said, holding the card out to her.

Sister Peggy knelt down in front of Angel and, taking the card and looking him in the eyes, said, “Oh, this is so beautiful. I love the colors, and especially that broad smile on the turkey’s face. If your mom is okay with me having it, I’m gonna take it home to the convent and hang it right on our refrigerator.”

“Of course, Sister, take it,” Julia said. “That’s so sweet of you, Angel!”

Angel wrapped his arms around the sister, who was still kneeling before him, and hugged her.

“Thank you so much, Ma’am. I like the smile on the turkey too. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Then Sister Peggy rose to her feet again and told Julia, “I made sure they’re giving you one of the twelve-pound turkeys, and I put a note on it in big red ink that says, ‘PLEASE MAKE SURE TO HOLD THIS TURKEY FOR JULIA DELACRUS AND HER FAMILY. THANK YOU. SR. PEGGY.’ I’m sure it will be there for you when you get to the door.”

They then waited on that line for at least an hour.

Julia had been there the previous week, on a day scheduled by the Mission, to sign up for one of the free frozen turkeys and well-stocked boxes of food being distributed for the Thanksgiving holiday. On that day, the volunteer who had been filling out paperwork and collecting names and information had warned her, “You need to be in line before 12:30 to pick up your turkey. Every year, by then, we start giving away any that haven’t been picked up. I’m sure it’s gonna be like that this year too, like always.”

As the line slowly progressed and each client took their turn at the door where things were being distributed, Angel carefully studied the faces and appearances of those around him. And although most of them were women, there were all kinds of people there.

There were men dressed in sharp-looking clothes who had gold chains around their necks and rings on their fingers. One very short woman with red-colored hair held a small transistor radio to her ear and, apparently without an iota of self-awareness, loudly sang along with songs only she could hear.

There were old people and not-so-old people, and even a lot of kids just like Angel and Eddy at their mothers’ sides. Some of those children rambunctiously ran around, away from and back to the lines, seemingly without any attention or direction from their moms.

Some of the people on the line looked like maybe they had just woken up and were very tired. It seemed like some of them even had a hard time standing for too long, and some leaned heavily against buildings, while others even sat on the ground as they waited for the line to move again.

And Angel was wise enough by then to get the idea that a few of those people in line were just “bad on their luck and maybe even drug addicts,” as Julia had explained in other similar circumstances.

As he took it all in, he kept asking himself, Why are WE here?

At one point, while they were still waiting on the line, Angel brazenly asked Julia, intentionally loud enough for others to hear, “Mommy, I thought we were all going to Drina’s house tomorrow for Thanksgiving, and that they are going to have more than enough food for everyone. I heard Drina tell you, ‘You don’t have to bring anything but the family.’ So, why are we here today?”

Julia glared at Angel and simply said, “Shut up, or you’ll be sorry you said anything,” and the conversation was over. But Angel fumed inside.

After waiting in the line for that endless hour, Julia packed the box of canned goods and other foods into the cart and then placed the frozen turkey on top of everything else, and the family headed back to their Moore Street apartment. Angel continued to push Amanda’s stroller, and now Eddy held onto the side of the food cart as Julia pushed it along.

Before they got home that afternoon, Julia told the boys she had to make one more stop. When they got to the corner where the liquor store was, Julia told Angel to watch Amanda and Eddy and the food cart for a moment while she went into the store “to get something.”

She picked up the frozen turkey and took it into the store with her. About five minutes later, she came back holding a brown paper bag with something inside, but the turkey was no longer with her.

Angel muttered under his breath, “Oh, I forgot, you gotta have your special apple juice again.”

Julia just ignored him and said, “Let’s go home, kids.”


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