Max by Howard Fast Read Free Book Online

She don’t speak much English, and she’d be afraid to come here to a place like this.’
    It wasn’t at all what he had intended to say. He had anticipated no need for an explanation. He would simply say that his mother was sick and now he couldn’t quite comprehend why he had said what he had said, but Miss Levine simply nodded and said that she understood.
    â€˜Most immigrant women live in a state of fear. It’s a wretched thing, but it’s so.’ Max listened and nodded, not entirely sure that he knew what she meant. ‘Still, you’re his brother, and you have taken a day off work, so I can see that his education means something to your family.’
    â€˜Well, no, not exactly. I didn’t have to take a day off work. I’m an entertainer.’ He was bogged down, enmeshed in his attempt to manufacture an explanation. ‘I mean, that don’t mean I’m not interested in his education. But today I got no matinee.’
    â€˜Oh?’
    What did the ‘Oh’ express? Contempt? Disdain? ‘What’s wrong with Ruby?’ he snapped.
    â€˜Yes. You see he’s not here. Is he ill?’
    â€˜Hooky. That –’ He bit off the words.
    â€˜It’s not simply truancy, although that averages at least a day a week. He forges notes from his mother, well written but transparent. You see, it’s not that he’s stupid. He’s very clever, but he’s boisterous, unruly, and very disruptive. I almost breathe a sigh of relief when he is truant.’
    â€˜I wish I had known this,’ Max said grimly, so grimly that Miss Levine smiled at the stern, stiff-necked young man who faced her. ‘No more hooky, you can be sure of that, and no more fooling around. He’s going to toe the line.’
    â€˜It will certainly help the class deportment, Mr Britsky.’
    â€˜Yeah, I’ll take care of it.’
    â€˜Thank you. I must go back to the class now.’
    It wasn’t until late afternoon that Max returned to the apartment on Henry Street. It was almost five o’clock, and as he entered the kitchen, Ruby was on his way out and Sarah was shouting at him, ‘Now, five o’clock, and you’re going out, and it’s practically time for supper.’
    â€˜I don’t want no supper, Mama.’
    â€˜What is this, you don’t want no supper?’
    They were all there in the kitchen, spectators at the scene between Ruby and his mother, Freida fifteen already, blooming, tight in her clothes like a ripe plum in its skin; the two other girls, Esther and Sheila, nine and eleven respectively, Esther with unexpected red hair, Sheila skinny and long-legged, built as Max was; and the baby, Benny, almost eight years old – all of them alive and healthy because Max had kept them alive and healthy, all of them integrated as parts in the high-pitched drama that their lives had become, packed as they were into the tiny apartment. They lived in clawing contact with each other, and they screamed and fought and bitched because they were without space or privacy and because they lacked any blueprint to define their lives; yet at the same time they were keenly aware and intrigued by the electric and dramatic quality of their disputes.
    â€˜So you’re going out,’ Max said to Ruby.
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Going out for dinner?’
    â€˜Yeah. Maybe.’
    â€˜Tell him!’ Sarah cried. ‘Tell him he can eat dinner at home!’
    Max ignored her. ‘You going maybe to Delmonico’s?’
    â€˜What’s Delmonico’s? No. I’ll pick up a hot dog on the corner.’
    â€˜With what for scratch?’
    â€˜I got thirty cents. Big deal.’
    â€˜You are goddamn right!’ Max exploded. ‘You are goddamn right, you miserable little shithead! It’s a big deal. You got thirty cents, you put it down there on the table and Mama buys food. You stole it, you little