Cave Under the City (11 page)

Bubber had a nickel. We bought a bottle of milk and went in back of the bakery and sat inside a big cardboard box. The breads were hard as rock. We soaked them in milk and ate them. We stayed there, out of the wind. Sometimes we slept. King went off and came back. When the baker went home, he threw a bag in the garbage, then banged down the lid. Bubber went out to investigate and came back with a handful of broken half-moon cookies. We gnawed them like bones and slept in the box that night like three dogs.

In the morning, we went on. We walked and we walked and we walked. I always thought you could blindfold me and turn me around ten times and I'd still be able to point straight to where I lived. But now I didn't know where we lived. We didn't live anywhere.

“Which way?” Bubber said. Any way. Maybe we were going in circles. It didn't matter. We didn't have anyplace to go. We didn't live anywhere anymore. When we lived in the cellar, I was ashamed. I didn't want anyone to know. We called it a cave, but it was just a cellar. Wet, dark, and dirty. Now it seemed like this wonderful place.

Near a movie house, King found a half-eaten hot dog in the street. I took a grab for it, but he swallowed it in one bite. I kicked him, and Bubber turned around and kicked me.

“Then go to hell,” I yelled. “You and your dog both. Let him feed you.” Then I walked away, without looking back.

I crossed railroad tracks. Ahead I saw the river and near it a bunch of shacks and junk houses banged together out of scraps of wood and rusted metal. People lived there. Some shacks had doors and windows, some had burlap or cardboard over the openings. One shack was half covered with a metal sign advertising Prince Albert tobacco. There were some kids playing in a woodpile. A dog barked at me.

I crossed more tracks and climbed down to the river. I sat on a rock, looking across the Hudson River to the Palisades on the Jersey side. The water made little sucking noises as it rose and fell on the rocks. A long way off, I heard a train whistle, then the distant pumping of the locomotive. I felt it coming in the ground. Moments later a train passed, the engine spitting sparks, white smoke flying from the wheels.

The long shriek of the train whistle reached down and twisted in me. I thought of my mother, my grandmother, and my father far away. And where was my brother? Bubber! I started back. A man stood by one of the shacks. “Did you see a little kid with curly hair?” I said.

A woman came out with an empty pail. “What's he want?” she said.

“How should I know?” the man said.

“Bubber!” I ran. I tripped over the railroad tracks. “Bubber!” I called. Why did I lose my temper? I wanted to kill myself for being so stupid. Why didn't I think? How could I lose him?
You lost your brother! How could you lose your brother?

I ran toward the street where I'd left him. If I find him, I promised God, I'd never lose my temper again.

Bubber was sitting on the curb in front of the movie house, his arm around King. The minute he saw me he got up and walked away. “Where are you going?” I said. “Hey, aren't you going to talk?” I caught him. He pushed me away. “Didn't you ever fight before? I'm talking to you.”

“Talk to yourself, Tolley. I'm not listening.”

“What's that mean? You the boss now?”

“You're not my boss.” He put his hands in his pockets.

“Let's go,” I said.

He didn't move.

I tried to pull him. “What's the matter with you?”

“You kicked King.”

“So what?”

“You hurt his feelings.”

“So what? He's a dog.”

“He's got feelings, too.”

“What do you want me to do? Kiss him?”

“Yes. And say you're sorry.”

“You say you're sorry.”

Bubber grabbed me, caught my hand, bit it. I slapped him away. He went flat on his back, then he came at me again with his lips drawn back like a dog's. I backed up. He kicked at me and I stiff-armed him to keep him off. I didn't want to fight my brother. I'd never seen him like this before. He used to do anything I said.

“Say you're sorry!”

“Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Are you satisfied now?”

We walked. After a while we talked and we were friends again. I wanted to go back to the shacks, where those people were living. Maybe we could find somebody to stay with. I was tired, hungry, I needed to sleep. I thought I knew the way back, but we came out on a wide street lined with big official-looking buildings. People going in and out. On the street a crowd was gathered around a man with a monkey dressed up in a red uniform like a bellhop. The monkey was on a chain, and every time someone put a coin in his cup he raised his hat.

Shine boys were up on the steps of the courthouse. There was one on every step. One of them was a woman. All of them were yelling, “Shine, shine. Five cents a shine.” But she yelled the loudest. “Best shine in New York.”

I watched her with a customer, a man in a black overcoat and a big hat. He looked like a judge. He put his foot on the shoe box. Big feet, too. She sat on a stool and polished with two brushes, then finished with a long polishing cloth that she whipped over the shoes. “There you are, sir.” She tapped his shoes, and he dropped some money in her hand.

As soon as he was gone, she said to us, “Get out of here. You're blocking the customers.”

We moved to another step. Bubber took off his aviator's hat and held it out. I stood behind him with my hand sort of raised. I had my eyes closed. I made believe that I'd been blinded during the war. Mustard gas. “You want something?” Someone gave me a stinging slap on my hand. It was the woman. “Scram,” she said.

29

I was walking and dreaming, asleep on my feet. Bubber held my hand and I followed him. It was nighttime and I dreamed it was summer and I was walking in the sand in my bare feet. At Orchard Beach with my father. I wore my bathing suit under my pants. After we swam we'd go into the bushes and change.

We stopped to rest by the side of a building. Sometimes a car passed. Snow fell. It melted on the ground but stuck in Bubber's hair. It came slanting into us. My feet were wet and I felt the water squishing in my shoes. Around me, everything was moving, the wind, the cars, the snow. I kept walking … walking … sleeping …

I slept over a warm grate. King licked my face.

“Tolley!” Bubber shook me awake. He looked like a snowman. He pulled me up.

The snow had stopped. We were on a broad avenue, lit up, bright and empty. The snow glittered and the apartment buildings were white and still. We were the only people on the street. A dead street, and we were dead, too. Everything seemed to come from far away. My head hurt. Nothing looked right. An approaching car's lights came at me like huge cat's eyes, the bumper full of shiny teeth. And on the roofs I saw gargoyles and gorillas jumping up and down.

We stood under a long green awning out of the snow, then went inside the building. A uniformed doorman chased us out. We went into another building. I rested my hands on top of the radiator and pushed my feet underneath till my shoes started to burn. Then Bubber heard someone and pushed me out. I shook; my teeth were chattering. I walked with my eyes closed, holding on to Bubber's arm.

“Bubber, my big little brother.” He led and I followed. “You be the daddy.” I talked silly. My lips felt puffy. My voice sounded funny. “You be the big brother and I'll be the little brother.” We were playing together in the living room. My mother was by the stove. I rolled on the round hassock. Then Bubber sat on my back. I was the horse and he was the cowboy. The bad guy was hiding behind the chair. “Behind the chair,” Bubber yelled, and kicked me in the ribs.

Later, down behind buildings in the empty lots we saw men standing around a fire. Sparks shot up in the air. “Hey, you kids, what have you got?”

King growled. Bubber pushed me ahead of him into the dark. We crawled into a pipe to get out of the wind, but it was too cold. We walked again.

We found a broken couch leaning against a building. It was covered by a canvas that we pulled over us. We slept there. Once I woke, damp, sweating, water spilling out of me.

I woke with the sun in my eyes. The snow melted and dripped off trees and wires. King barked at an orange cat on top of a rusted iron can. A man came out of the house, yelling at King. “Go on. Scat. Git!”

We jumped up. I was dizzy for a second and then we ran.

30

We walked slowly along the Concourse. My legs felt weak. Every couple of steps I stopped to rest. The streets were crowded with shoppers. It was cold, the sun was high, people hurried into stores, or waited for buses, or sat in restaurants or at lunch counters. We walked again. I was coughing and sniffling and looking at my hands. I was dirty and ashamed.

“Tolley,” Bubber said, “you all right?”

I coughed. I felt awful. I had to sit down. I couldn't get the cough out of my chest. “People are looking at me,” I said.

“No, they're not.”

I sat on the curb, leaned against a pole. I closed my eyes.

King licked my face. Bubber tried to pull me up. He wouldn't leave me alone. “You're sick, Tolley. Momma puts us in bed when we're sick.”

My eyes started to close. I started to dream about my own bed, my room, the door shut.

Bubber shook me. “Tolley!” He pulled me to my feet. “We're going home.”

“We can't … You can't …” I knocked into him. I was rolling around. I couldn't stay on my feet. “McKenzie's there.”

“If we see him we'll run away.” Bubber took me home. He held my arm and made me walk down Fordham Road. We turned on Webster Avenue. King ran into me. Bubber never let me stop. We walked under the Third Avenue el, getting closer and closer to home.

It was dark when we stood across the street from our apartment. We entered the courtyard on the park side. Nobody saw us. But King wouldn't go inside with us. He squirmed out of Bubber's hands and hid in the bushes.

“Okay, stay,” Bubber said. “Stay. Good dog.”

We went up the stairs. Every sound made my stomach jump. Bubber took my key and unlocked the door. We tiptoed through the unlit apartment. I was home. I smelled the furniture and clean linen. Were we really home? Could we stay? Everything scared me. Why was the closet door open? Why was the bed unmade? Had I left it that way? The note I'd written my parents was on the table in the hall. Was that where I'd left it?

In the other room the chairs pulled out from the table looked at me accusingly. Where have you been? Look at you. What have you been doing? You can't sit on us with those clothes on.

Bubber walked slowly to his bed and pulled out the box of toys from underneath and looked at it, then pushed it back under. He switched the light off and on and pulled down the shades and let them snap up.

In the bathroom I leaned over the sink. The soap had melted. The sink smiled up at me. The mirror said comb your hair.

I washed my hands and face and combed my hair. Then I undressed and got into bed. Bubber brought me hot water in a cup and half a Baby Ruth he had saved.

A noise, a buzzer woke me. Startled me. I sat up. I was so scared I couldn't speak. Bubber sat up. He had been asleep at the foot of my bed. Somebody was coming up the stairs. I heard the footsteps, wondered, as I always did, man or woman? Girl or boy?

The steps reached our landing and paused. Was it somebody for us? Or the Chrissmans? The steps started again on the next flight of stairs.

The house was waking up. I heard radios and water running and smelled coffee and eggs. The same old familiar sounds. Nothing had changed. Only us.

31

Bubber went downstairs to find King. I stayed in bed and waited for him. He came back alone. “King is gone.”

“Maybe he went back to the cave,” I said. “He could be waiting for us there, right now.”

Bubber shook his head.

“He's around,” I said. “He has to be.” Bubber didn't say anything. “Look, he can take care of himself. He did it before us. He can do it again.”

My brother just looked at me, like he knew something I didn't know. “King's not coming back.”

I slept. Bubber went out and came back with Drake's cakes and an orange. I got up and dressed. My throat hurt but my chest felt better. “You want to go look for King?”

Bubber shook his head.

We went up the stairs to the landing by the door to the roof. It was safer here. “You want to go back to the cave and look?” Bubber shook his head. He wasn't looking anymore. He didn't even want to talk about King. The dog had gone around the corner and disappeared.

“I see Daddy's hand,” Bubber said later. He was leaning on the railing, looking down the stairwell.

I heard somebody coming slowly up the stairs. “It's not Daddy! Let's get out of here.”

“I see Daddy's hand,” Bubber said again.

I looked. There was a hand on the railing below. “It's somebody else,” I said.

“I'm going down.”

I was afraid it was McKenzie. I made a grab for him, but he had already started down the stairs.

32

My father was down on one knee holding Bubber in his arms and kissing him. Bubber was crying. My father was crying, too. I just stood there. I didn't cry. I didn't do anything. I didn't move.

In the apartment, my father turned to me. “Well?” He held his arms out to me. He wanted me to come, but I couldn't make myself go to him.

“Come here,” my father said. “You're so thin. What have you been eating? Where were you? I've been looking for you everywhere. Nobody saw you. Nobody knew where you were. It was like the ground swallowed you up.”

I couldn't speak.

He took hold of me. “What's the matter with you? You don't act glad to see your father.”

I ducked away from him. “Leave me alone.” When he tried to pull me back, I knocked his hand away. I hit him. I hit my father. I was crazy. “Where have you been?” I was so mad I yelled at him. I didn't care what I said. “We were sick. Bubber was sick. We didn't have any money. Where were you? Why did you stay away so long? You didn't write. I wrote you and you never answered. You left us. You forgot about us. Didn't you know? Didn't you know? How could you be so dumb?”