Never Love a Stranger by Harold Robbins Read Free Book Online

lay there quietly awhile. The sun was hot and I covered my face with my shirt.
    A shadow fell over me and I heard a voice say: “Who let this goddam Jew down on our dock?”
    I thought it was someone talking about Martin so I lay there quietly waiting to see what would come of it.
    “Hey, fellers,” the voice cried. “Come over here and look at what makes a Jew.”
    I heard a couple of feet come over and stop not far from me. “Jeeze!” one of them said, “funny lookin’, ain’t it?” They all laughed.
    “Come on, Jew,” said the original voice. “Let’s see what the rest of you looks like.” There was a minute’s silence. Then a foot prodded me roughly and the voice said: “I mean you. Don’t you know when you’re spoken to?”
    I took the shirt from my face slowly and sat up. Jerry, Ray, and Marty were sitting near me, looking at me. I saw Marty had put his trousers on, so they must have meant me. I had been circumcised when I was a kid. I got to my feet and faced my tormentor. He was a guy I didn’t know. “The name’s Kane,” I said slowly. “Francis Kane. And I’m not a Jew. Want to make anything of it?”
    “That’s right,” one of the boys called. “He’s from St. Thérèse.”
    I took a step towards the other fellow. “All right,” he said, “I’m sorry. But I don’t like Jews. I’d like to see one here. I’d kick him off the dock.”
    Before I could answer, Marty stepped up in front of me. “I’m a Jew,” he said quietly. “Let’s see you kick me off the dock.”
    The boy was a little taller than Marty. Marty’s back was towards the water. Suddenly the fellow made a rush towards him, intending to push Marty into the water. Nimbly Marty side-stepped and the fellow, not being able to stop his rush, plunged over the side of the dock into the water with a big splash. I burst out laughing and the others followed.
    I leaned over the edge of the dock and yelled to the guy splashing in the water: “The little Jewboy was too smart for ya, huh?”
    He cursed back at us and tried to clamber back; but he was so mad he missed and fell back into the water. We laughed again. Just then a yell went up: “A dame’s comin’ down the dock!” All of us who didn’t have any clothes on jumped into the water.
    Later when the woman had gone we clambered back on the dock and got dressed. “I
    gotta get back to work,” I said, and we walked back to Tenth Avenue in silence.
    At the door of the poolroom Jerry said: “Don’t forget: after church tomorrow you’re coming over to my house to meet my father.”
    I went into the store and Keough was there, hot and perspiring and busy. When he saw me he hollered: “Bring up some beer from the cellar. It’s a hot day and the boys are all thirsty.”
    Chapter Seven ‌

    K EOUGH was closed on Sunday. I had to stay at church through all the Masses because I was an altar boy. After the last Mass, near twelve o’clock, I would generally go back to the orphanage, have dinner, and then go out for the rest of the day. Sometimes I would go to a movie or up to the Polo Grounds and sneak into the ball game. This Sunday I had promised Jerry I would go home with him to see his father.
    Jerry’s father was the Mayor of New York—the great democrat, the people’s man, a regular, friendly man with a big hello and a glad handshake and baby-kissing lips. I didn’t like him. Ir dated from a long way back—long before I knew Jerry Cowan. It was when Mr. Cowan was alderman from our district and he made a speech at the orphanage’s Thanksgiving dinner. He made a nice speech that none of the kids could understand, but then we didn’t care. We were too full of turkey. I was about nine at the time. He sent me into the superintendent’s office to fetch some cigars from his overcoat. When I gave them to him he held out a big shiny quarter to me and said: “This is for being a good boy.”
    “Thank you,” I murmured, taking the quarter. Then I remembered what the