The assistant by Bernard Malamud Read Free Book Online

you a sandwich?" "I just ate." He walked out, threw the dirty water into the gutter, returned the pail and brush, then came back to the grocery. He went behind the counter and into the rear, pausing to rap on the doorjamb. "How do you like the clean window?" he asked Ida. "Clean is clean." She was cool. "I don't want to intrude here but your husband was nice to me, so I just thought maybe I could ask for one more small favor. I am looking for work and I want to try some kind of a grocery job just for size. Maybe I might like it, who knows? It happens I forgot some of the things about cutting and weighing and such, so I am wondering if you would mind me working around here for a couple-three weeks without wages just so I could learn again? It won't cost you a red cent. I know I am a stranger but I am an honest guy. Whoever keeps an eye on me will find that out in no time. That's fair enough, isn't it?" Ida said, "Mister, isn't here a school." "What do you say, pop?" Frank asked Morris. "Because somebody is a stranger don't mean they ain't honest," answered the grocer. "This subject don't interest me. Interests me what you can learn here. Only one thing"- he pressed his hand to his chest-"a heartache." "You got nothing to lose on my proposition, has he now, Mrs?" Frank said. "I understand he don't feel so hot yet, and if I helped him out a short week or two it would be good for his health, wouldn't it?" Ida didn't answer. But Morris said flatly, "No. It's a small, poor store. Three people would be too much." Frank flipped an apron off a hook behind the door and before either of them could say a word, removed his hat and dropped the loop over his head. He tied the apron strings around him. "How's that for fit?" Ida flushed, and Morris ordered him to take it off and put it back on the hook. "No bad feelings, I hope," Frank said on his way out. Helen Bober and Louis Karp walked, no hands touching, in the windy dark on the Coney Island boardwalk. Louis had, on his way home for supper that evening, stopped her in front of the liquor store, on her way in from work. "How's about a ride in the Mercury, Helen? I never see you much anymore. Things were better in the bygone days in high school." Helen smiled. "Honestly, Louis, that's so far away." A sense of mourning at once oppressed her, which she fought to a practiced draw. "Near or far, it's all the same for me." He was built with broad back and narrow head, and despite prominent eyes was presentable. In high school, before he quit, he had worn his wet hair slicked straight back. One day, after studying a picture of a movie actor in the Daily News, he had run a part across his head. This was as much change as she had known in him. If Nat Pearl was ambitious, Louis made a relaxed living letting the fruit of his father's investment fall into his lap. "Anyway," he said, "why not a ride for old-times' sake?" She thought a minute, a gloved finger pressed into her cheek; but it was a fake gesture because she was lonely. "For old-times' sake, where?" "Name your scenery-continuous performance." "The Island?" He raised his coat collar. "Brr, it's a cold, windy night You wanna freeze?" Seeing her hesitation, he said, "But I'll die game. When'll I pick you up?" "Ring my bell after eight and I'll come down." "Check," Louis said. "Eight bells." They walked to Seagate, where the boardwalk ended. She gazed with envy through a wire fence at the large lit houses fronting the ocean. The Island was deserted, except here and there an open hamburger joint or pinball machine concession. Gone from the sky was the umbrella of rosy light that glowed over the place in summertime. A few cold stars gleamed down. In the distance a dark Ferris wheel looked like a stopped clock. They stood at the rail of the boardwalk, watching the black, restless sea. All during their walk she had been thinking about her life, the difference between her aloneness now and the fun when she was young and spending every day of summer