The Invisible Wall (13 page)

We were mystified. It was not prayer or hymn time, and there was no holiday coming that we had to prepare for. But the excitement had communicated itself to us, and we twisted in our seats and chattered loudly, and teachers began shouting at us to be quiet. Then silence fell as the headmaster stood before us, stick in hand, face grim. Then he spoke.

“Duffers, dullards, blockheads, thick-skulled, unwashed ones, lend me your ears.” A wink to the teachers, and faint laughter among them, then in a more serious tone the headmaster went on. “Today is an important day in the life of this school. For the first time in the history of St. Peter's a girl has won a scholarship to the grammar school. Two years ago a boy from this school won a scholarship. But never did we think a girl could win one. About the only thing girls in this school have ever done well is skip rope and sit in their seats in such a fashion that you could see their next week's washing.” A little scream of laughter from Miss DuRose, the standard four teacher. Ignoring her, the headmaster continued. “The good Lord had pity on us this time. He gave us a girl with brains. Most of you wouldn't know what brains are. Well, they're the stuff you haven't got, the stuff that helps you think. This girl has 'em. She not only won her scholarship, but she passed her exam top of the list. She beat out not only all the other girls who took that exam, but all the boys too. I suppose you all know who this girl is. She's been ink monitor here for the past year, and I know we'll never get another one like her, and so we're all going to give her three cheers. Come up here, Lily.”

They had to push Lily up to the front. She didn't want to go. She was petrified. She clung to her seat until the others near her began pushing, and then Miss Penn and Miss DuRose had to go up to her and take her hands and lead her to the headmaster. He put an arm around her shoulders. Her head was bent and she was crying. I thought Miss Penn and some of the other teachers were crying a little, too.

The headmaster also seemed to be affected. He had to clear his throat before he spoke again, then he said, “All right, you duffers and dullards, let's have it good and loud. Hip, hip.”

It was good and loud, all right. Everybody, children and teachers, joined in with three cheers, even though many of the children in the younger classes didn't know what it was all about and cheered because the others did. It was a triumphant march home. The other kids clustered around Lily and chattered noisily. Not only the Jewish kids, but Christians as well. There was no danger of our being attacked on this trip. Everyone, even the worst of the ragamuffins, regarded Lily with awe. Who in our school had ever been given three cheers led by the headmaster himself? Even the cabbies, sitting aloft on their perches, sensed something different that day and did not flick their whips over our heads as we went by.

Then, as we reached the Devil's Steps, there was Arthur leaning up against a wall reading a book, waiting for us. As soon as he saw us he closed his book with a snap and sprang toward us. In his excitement he had forgotten all about the ban, as had Lily. He knew, of course. He had seen the list posted on the bulletin in the school.

He explained this to Lily as they walked on together. He explained also that she would have to appear at the grammar school for an interview very shortly. But there was nothing to worry about about that; it was just a formality, especially in her case, being top of the list.

“Oh, it's just tremendous,” he said, his voice elated, his eyes dancing. “I let out a yell when I saw your name right up there on top. I threw my cap up in the air. People thought I was dotty. Well, I was for a while. I came nowhere near top when I took the exam, I was proud just to be on it—somewhere in the middle, I think. Nothing at all like you.”

He kept this up all the way home, ignoring the ban, forgetting about it completely, probably in his excitement, and Lily forgetting it also, looking up at him as they walked along, hardly saying anything else, her eyes shining with her joy, not merely at the tremendous victory she had won, but at the praise that flowed ceaselessly out of him. It was a triumphant march home, with all of us tagging behind these two and jabbering among ourselves over the happening that day.

When we had turned onto Brook Street and had come down some distance we saw our mother standing on the corner, shading her eyes with a hand as she scanned the street for us. She was holding something in her other hand, and as we got close and began to run up to her we saw that it was a letter. Yes, it was the letter that Lily had been waiting for all this time. There was scarcely any need to open it, but she did while we poured out the news to my mother, all of us speaking at one time.

Lily read the letter as we all stood there. It confirmed everything we all knew, but there were other details in it. “You're right,” she said to Arthur. “They want me to come down for an interview. Next Wednesday.”

Arthur nodded, grinning, and then he turned to my mother and said reassuringly, “That's one thing she won't have to worry about. She'll pass the interview with flying colors, like she did the exam.”

But the words faltered on his lips, and the grin died on his face as he saw my mother's expression. She was looking straight at him steadily, and she made no attempt to answer his remark. It was clear what her expression was saying and Arthur, after an awkward moment, turned and walked away from us, and crossed the street to his house.

We were delayed going into our own house. People ran out of their houses to congratulate Lily. They'd all heard by now. A huge knot gathered around us, and it included even a few from across the street. Arthur's mother came over, smiling, holding out a hand to Lily and telling her how wonderful it was, and saying to my mother, “Now that makes two from the street.” My mother gave a little embarrassed nod, but didn't say anythiug. Then Mrs. Humberstone came walking across with her rolling, sailor-like gait, a large heavy woman, and when she reached Lily she gave her a resounding whack with the palm of her hand on Lily's back, shouting out congratulations. And Mrs. Green, too, together with Annie carrying her baby, Annie quiet and smiling and proffering a hand, Mrs. Green cackling and showing her broken yellow teeth and saying maliciously, “Well, now and who said ye weren't the chosen ones? Ye got everything, ye 'ave.”

It was quite some time before we were able to go in. My mother's face was flushed and she was in seventh heaven with all the praise and envy and the wonder of what had happened. She must have seen herself once more close to her goal, a few steps more up the ladder. But Lily was silent, and as soon as the door had closed after us she turned on my mother and said savagely, “Why did you do that to him?”

My mother's mouth opened. She looked at Lily, bewildered, all her joy crumbling. “Do what? To who?”

“To Arthur.”

“What did I say to him? What did I do?”

“That's just it. You said nothing. He spoke to you, and you ignored him, as if he didn't exist. And the way you looked at him!”

“How did I look? Oh, what are you talking about?”

“You know what I'm talking about. You treated him as if he weren't a human being, just because he's a Christian.”

She burst into tears then and ran upstairs, and my mother simply stood there looking down at the floor, an expression of sheer misery on her face, almost on the verge of tears herself.

But all that was soon enough forgotten, and peace once more restored between them as my mother began to make a new dress for Lily to wear at the interview. It was the first new dress Lily had had in a long time and it added joy to the whole event. My mother had gone to the market and bought some soft white material and remnants of lace, and sat up still longer at night sewing. There were fittings and arguments between them over this or that about the dress, things I didn't quite understand. But the excitement had communicated itself to all of us, all that is except Rose, who sneered and scoffed, and was bitterly jealous of all the attention paid to Lily.

The neighbors continued to come in to congratulate Lily and to help or make suggestions about the new dress. It was still being talked of up and down both sides of the street, and Rose's resentment rose still higher. She wore a perpetual sullen expression on her thin, pale face. More than anything, she was angry over the dress. It seemed to strike deeper even than the glory that surrounded Lily over her winning of the scholarship. I saw her look balefully at it as my mother sewed at the table. Once, while we were having our bedtime cocoa and reading our books and magazines at the same time, Rose, accidentally or not, spilled some of her cocoa. My mother and Lily screamed as it ran over the table toward the dress.

My mother was not quite quick enough in snatching the dress away, and the edge was stained. Lily began to cry, and in a fit of rage lashed out at Rose, catching her on the face. Rose sprang up screaming and struck back, and there was bedlam for a moment until my mother separated them.

“She did it on purpose,” Lily cried, still weeping.

“No, she didn't,” my mother defended, though she may have suspected otherwise. “It was an accident.”

“It wasn't an accident. She wanted to ruin my dress.”

“She's a liar,” shouted Rose. “She always lies. She lied to you about not talking to Arthur Forshaw. She always talks to him. Every day when she sees him she talks to him. She's in love with him, and that's the only reason she wants to go to the grammar school. So she can walk to school with him every day and be with him all the time.”

“She's a dirty liar,” screamed Lily. “It's not true. It's not true. It's not true.”

She would have dashed at Rose again if my mother hadn't interfered and seized her hands, and pushed Rose away, Rose only too ready to engage in more battle.

“Now stop this,” my mother shouted. “I've had enough.”

“She's not telling the truth,” Lily insisted. “I haven't been talking to Arthur. Only that day when you saw us. But I wasn't talking to him before then, and I haven't since, and it's not on account of him that I want to go to the grammar school. She's just jealous. That's why she's saying these things and that's why she ruined my dress.”

“I know it's not true,” my mother reassured. “And she hasn't ruined your dress. There's just a little cocoa spilled on it, and I can wash that out easily. Now go on up to bed, all of you, and no more fighting.”

We trooped upstairs silently, and there was less gaiety than usual over the ritual of throwing our clothes down on her, both on our part and hers.

Even that episode vanished from our minds as the day of the interview grew closer. We were all excited. The whole street, in fact, was excited over it. When the women came into the shop there was little else they talked about, that and the future that lay in store for Lily, a future vastly different from that of the other boys and girls who would be leaving St. Peter's this year, all of them doomed to work in the mills or the tailoring shops.

My mother glowed with pride and quiet joy, though perhaps occasionally I saw a troubled expression come on her face. It would appear at different times, when she was alone usually, and I watched her from a distance. She seemed to brood for a moment, and then would rouse herself, and go about her work quickly, as if determined not to think about whatever it was that had been bothering her.

Lily herself was clearly nervous as the day approached, and with her usual pessimism was quite sure that she would fail the interview. Over and over my mother had to assure her that this couldn't possibly happen, until finally she grew exasperated with her insistence and burst out, “If you keep on like this you'll talk yourself into it and them too and you will fail.”

Lily burst into tears. “That's what you want me to do.”

My mother looked at her in astonishment. “Why should I want that?”

“Oh, you've got reasons.”

“What reasons? What reasons could I possibly have for wanting you to fail the interview?”

“You're not too anxious for me to go to the grammar school.”

“Why? Why?”

But Lily refused to answer. She ran away from my mother. She would not explain and my mother would not press her, but brooded a great deal over the strange accusation.

Finally the day came. For the first time we were to go to school without Lily, but she would walk with us as far as the Devil's Steps. We hurried downstairs in a state of suppressed excitement. Lily, taking more time today in getting dressed because of the new white dress, would follow later. As we burst into the kitchen we came to an abrupt halt. He was there, sitting at the table, still eating his breakfast, head bent low.

We glanced at our mother for explanation, and she replied with her eyes, telling us to be silent, to seat ourselves at the table, to say nothing. We did so. Not a word was being spoken, and the only sounds came from the smacking of his lips. Why was he here? He was usually gone to his workshop long before this. Nor did he seem to be hurrying, as if he had all the time in the world. We ate feeling uncomfortable, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Already we could hear the sounds of other children out in the street going to school, but we couldn't go without Lily.

At last we heard her footsteps on the stairs. My mother looked eagerly toward the doorway, and the rest of us looked too, and in a moment Lily appeared clad in her new white dress. It was long and came down to her ankles with lace ruffles and lace cuffs and bodice, and her long dark silky hair flowing behind her. She looked beautiful and very grown-up, her figure long and slender, a slight flush that was excitement on her cheeks. I think even my father must have looked up for a brief moment, and I think that what he saw may have startled him, though he gave no indication of it, and bent his head again over his plate almost immediately.

My mother clasped her hands together with delight, and could not take her eyes off Lily. “Oh, you're so beautiful,” she said. “So very beautiful. You look like a regular woman.”