Saint Mazie: A Novel by Jami Attenberg Read Free Book Online Page A

mouth. She shook her head, judging me on behalf of Jesus. She had honey-blond hair, a little wisp of it sneaking out from her habit. Her eyes were like blue glass, they had a shimmer to them. No makeup, just her face. She wasn’t much older than me, and she was short like me, but I didn’t know if she had the same curves under that habit. There we were, two girls on Park Row. Only one of us was showing a lot more skin.
    I said: I ain’t hurting anyone.
    She said: Except yourself.
    I said: Oh brother.
    I started blowing smoke in her direction and she took a step back.
    I said: What’s your name, sister?
    She said: Sister Tee.
    I said: What’s the Tee for?
    She said: It’s T-e-e not T. Tee’s for Theresa but there’s ten Theresas in the church so we all have different nicknames and I’m just Tee, because I’m wee.
    This made me like her. She’s just a kid, I thought. I’m one too, I guess.
    She said: We’re not talking about me though. We’re talking about you. And your soul.
    I said: I’m Jewish so you can stop worrying about my soul.
    She said: Everyone can be saved.
    I said: Sister Tee, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with me.
    It made her laugh a little bit. She was sweet. I’d have liked to see her out of that habit, all dolled up, in a club on Second Avenue, dancing up a storm with the sailors. Slap some rouge on those baby cheeks of hers and she’d grow up real fast. But it was not to be, me and Sister Tee.
    A line started to build for the next show.
    I said: All right, go find another drunk to help. I got work to do.
    She said: Remember to think about what I said.
    I said: Scram.
    I waved her off with my hand.
    She swished off in her skirts, and I was missing her already.
    I said: But come back sometime. Come back and say hi.
    She was bold, and I liked it. For a nun, she had flair. And I liked how she seemed both old and young. I thought maybe she would be my first friend on Park Row. Even if she thinks I’m no good, I bet she’d still be my friend.

Mazie’s Diary, May 3, 1918
    The war’s coming to an end, everyone’s saying it, on the radio, in the papers. I’ll believe it when I see it. But it’s putting everyone in a good mood. There’s a parade every other day. I think folks think we throw enough parades we can make anything happen. There’s been soldiers coming home, for weeks and weeks now. Hurrahs floating in the air. I can sometimes hear them. It’s all off in the distance, though. It’s out there and I’m in here .
    In here I deal with the bums and the stragglers and the cons. The men in suits sleeping off the night before. Why they don’t just go home I’ll never know. I have to say they’re all starting to make me laugh. Except the ones with the children. The mothers with the kids for the funnies, that’s fine, that don’t get to me. I’ll give them a lolly, sure. I’ve got a jarful just sitting there. They pay full price and move along. But the cons with the kids, saying they’re begging on their behalf, using them. I can’t tell what’s true or not.
    This woman Nance has been coming around more lately, I’ve seen her for a few weeks. I’d heard of her before, back when I used to have a lot more free time on my hands and I knew all the gossip from the bars. She says she has children but I’ve never seen them. I shoo her away from my line.
    Off with you, I tell her. Stay away from my paying customers. We’re running a business here.
    She scatters from the theater. Park Avenue, across the street to the King Kong Bar, a pause at the window, around the corner and she’s gone. Just a skirt in the distance. Too old to be a street urchin, too pretty to be a common whore. Only thing left’s a con.

Mazie’s Diary, May 10, 1918
    Where’s our Jeanie, we’ve all been wondering lately. In the arms of Ethan Fallow, I suppose. He came by Grand Street last night. He brought her a bouquet of tea roses, and she held them in her lap for an hour, and then they went for a