Avenue A
The other passengers around him gathered to gawk in wonder at the new copper statue in the New York Harbor. Erik grunted to himself at the irony of looking at a piece of French architecture in his new American home. A late centennial gift, Lady Liberty now stood proudly over the bay, her 25 windows representing the world's gemstones and rays from heavens gleaming in the early morning sun. Her crown stood for the seven seas and continents, her tablet read 'July 4, 1776. Her robes flowed down to her sandaled feet and her burning torch of freedom welcomed the immigrants to their new home. Indeed, Lady Liberty herself was an immigrant in the sense she too had journeyed from her place of birth to make her home here. But could he truly call America home? Or would he be rejected for the monster he was?
Even now he was becoming uncomfortable in the crowd that was gathering on deck. But not as uncomfortable as when he overheard a little German boy ask his mother,
"Mama, will we go to Aunt Anya's house after we get off the boat?"
"Not straight away, Liebling. First we have to get inspected by the government to make sure we're healthy." the mother told her son as Erik began to panic.
"How Mama?" he asked.
"Well, they'll check our hair for lice, and they'll search our mouths and our teeth and ask us to breath. Now you'll be a good boy and do what they tell you to, right?" she asked him.
"Right...Mama? Will Kriss Kringle know where we live and visit us for Christmas?" the little boy asked. His mother chuckled,
"Of course Liebling!" But Erik wasn't concerned about this Kriss Kringle person. A health inspection? How was he going to get his face past a health inspection? He searched his mind for answers and decided that the only way to get out of this mess was find a corruptible inspector and bribe his way in. The ship docked and Erik followed the mass of crowd out to the dock where an amazing sight met his eyes. New York City stood before him. It was an amazing piece of architecture collection with buildings beginning to point up towards the sky, factories churning out smoke and fumes and thousands of people rushing about the docks. He was directed to the health inspection lines and he spotted a man he thought might be bought. But Erik wasn't given a chance to speak when the official didn't look up at him as he said,
"Name."
"What?" asked Erik.
"State your name." repeated the Official. Erik hesitated. He needed more than a first name. He looked around the harbor and then saw a crate labeled, 'NORTH AFRICA'.
"North...Erik North."
"Country of Origin?"
"France."
"Date of birth?"
"I'm...I'm not sure." Erik admitted.
"How old are you?" asked the official still not looking up.
"About thirty I suppose..." shrugged Erik.
"Born December 17th, 1856. Happy Birthday." said the official in monotone.
"But..."
"Do you have any debilitating diseases?"
"No...but..."
"Any itching?"
"No..."
"Sneezing? Vomiting? Coughing up blood?"
"...No..."
"Any skin conditions?" Erik hesitated,
"Nothing contagious..." At this, the man looked up and finally looked over the French immigrant. He was tall, at least six and a half heads. His shoulders were broad and his hips were slim. And though he came from a third class ship, the official could tell by his fine black suit that he had known the finer things in life. The left side of the Frenchman's face was defined with high cheekbones, and a fine aristocratic nose. He had two piercing light green eyes with gold around the iris. But the right side of his face was covered with a flesh toned half mask and a black fedora cocked over his eye. The official gave a small turn of his lips and said,
"Well...you look healthy." Erik looked up from the ground in shock as the official stamped a few papers and held them out to Erik continuing, "Welcome to America, Monsieur...And Happy Christmas...NEXT!" Erik walked away trying to choke back the lump in his throat. For the first time in a long time a total stranger who he might never see again...had just shown him a kindness. Maybe he could make a life for himself. A life in America.
Suddenly, Erik heard the crazed whinny of a horse and he turned his head to look on a bunch of sailors trying to control a magnificent tricolor stallion and pull it onto the ship. The horse reared up and shook loose of his bonds running back towards the city. Before he knew what he was doing, Erik dropped his suitcase and ran up to grab the rope to the horse. For a moment it was man and beast fighting for dominance. Tired, the horse began to calm down, but its wild spirit wouldn't quiet it. Erik shushed it and then sang softly,
"Nighttime...sharpens...heightens each sensation...
Darkness..stirs...and wakes imagination...
Silently the senses...abandon their defenses..."
And amazingly, the horse stilled and allowed Erik to pet his nose. A tall old Englishman with a cigar in one hand and a blond in the other came up and said as the sailors caught up,
"Sir...I thank you for taming this beast before he hurt someone. What's your name?" Erik turned his right side away saying as he stroked the animal answering,
"North."
"Well Mr. North, I bought this...mutt...because I thought he would be a rarity in my stables back in Sussex. A product of human misguidance. However, I see now that he'd be nothing but a nuisance. So he's yours. Well, thanks again and good day to you." said the Englishman tipping his hat. Erik stood dumbfounded as the pretentious snob walked away. What seemed to be a gift was just a fop's way of getting rid of a problem. Erik sighed and looked over his new horse. He had a small wound on his leg. He would need to find a stable to get it fixed. It was a bit smaller than thoroughbreds he had seen, but he had powerful muscles meant for endurance and speed. His coat was brown, black and white. What sort of breed was this? Erik shrugged, retrieved his luggage and continued to walk into the city, hoping to find a boarding house...and preferably, one with a nearby stable. The horse dutifully followed behind Erik's lead.
A few minutes pasted when Erik came to a small street that was still quiet for the morning. In fact, the only sound he heard was a light singing and the clang of metal against metal. Always intrigued by music, Erik followed the sound finding himself at a small stable.
"Delancy Stables...hmm...Seems like a good place hmm?" Erik said to his horse who shook his mane in reply. Erik tied the horse up and then walked inside. Sitting on a stool and shoeing a donkey, was a young man with dark skin and a felt cap over his eyes.
"La la...la la...la LA la la la...La la la..la..."
"You're a fair voice, Monsieur." Erik said speaking up. The man started and then looked over his shoulder to see Erik in the doorway. Taking a rag, he wiped his hands as he smiled, stood and said,
"Signori...Grazie"
"I wonder if you can help me...I've had a little mishap with my..." Erik said.
"Horse?" said the young man.
"Exactly." Erik nodded. He walked back outside and the horse began to grow nervous around the stableman's presence.
"Temperamental thing isn't he?" asked the man.
"Hmm...which makes me think we're rather suited for each other." commented Erik dryly as the younger man grew concerned and crouched down to the horses leg.
"Oh..." the young man said soothingly as he bent the horses leg up to test it out.
"Is he badly hurt?" Erik asked.
"It's not broken Signori but he will need to rest..."
"How long before he's healed?" Erik asked.
"One week, he'll be as good as new." he replied.
"A week? Hmm...Very well. How much?" asked Erik.
"Well...how long are you staying in New York?" asked the man. Erik mused that this was a curious one. No French stableman would ask such things. Suspicious, Erik asked,
"Why?"
"If you're planning to live nearby, I cana give you a low weekly fee. But if it's only a week or so...then I'lla have to charge more." he told Erik. Erik took a good look at this man. Common clothes, but a smooth Italian accent that spoke very good English. He was short, possibly a foot shorter than Erik, but he was handsome. Erik would readily trade a foot of height for a handsome face like this man's. Satisfied the only thing the man wanted was an idea of what to charge, Erik told him,
"I might stay in New York, but I need a week or two to decide if I like it here."
"Very well, then I'lla charge you the weekly fee." said the stableman leading the horse inside. Confused, Erik followed him in asking,
"But...wouldn't you make more charging me for the temporary fee?"
"True...But I think you're going to like New York. Besides, us immigrants must stick out for each other, no?" said the man leading the horse into the stall and beginning to wash his wound.
"Is it that obvious?" asked Erik amazed at the man's kindness.
"Like escargo in a plate of spaghetti!" joked the stableman. He continued, "Seriously, it justs looks as if you've never been to America before."
"Never been anywhere really." admitted Erik. He thought to himself,
"And I certainly never been able to communicate this openly with anyone before."
"I'm...Marcello Damaroco, Signori...?"
"Erik North. I'm honored Marcello." Erik said shaking the Italian's out-stretched hand.
"Where you come from Mr. North?" Marcello asked.
"Paris."
"We better get him some breakfast, No?" Marcello said taking the horse's reins. Later, upon locking the barn with a paddock, Marcello continued,
"Where you staying Mr. North?"
"Any place to unbutton my boots will do." Erik said.
"Then I'll take you to the best boarding house in all New York City! It's right down here...on Avenue A." Marcello opened the doors from the courtyard leading to the outer street that now was bustling with life and activity. People were everywhere, of every race, color and dialect. Erik had never been so amazed and nervous in his life. Did he make the right choice coming to such a crowded city? He didn't have time to ponder such things when his new acquaintance Marcello grabbed one of his suitcases and his arm and pulled him along saying,
"Wel-come-to-the-world...of...Avenue A...
Where you'll hear, 'Coma sta?' and 'Bless my soul!' and 'Oy Vey'...!
Micheal Finklestein and Rosey Monahan are still going steady..." Marcello told him filling him in on local gossip. Then he pointed to a woman in a window,
"Mrs. Brandenheim is yelling out their window..."
"Breakfast is ready!" called Mrs. Brandenheim dropping some of her laundry. Marcello caught it and gave it to one of her children as they scrambled to get inside,
"And that's the way it goes on Avenue-A...
Where Father Callahan bids Rabbi Hirsch... a good day..." Marcello pointed out to Erik who was amazed at how diverse the place was. Then three carts full of food crashed into each other, their respected owners scrambling to clean up and yelling at each other in the process. While Erik and Marcello helped them, Marcello told Erik,
"Pickled herring, lasagna...and chow mein...all share the same...tray...
"Part of the great big bouillabaisse...called Avenue A!"
"WOMEN OF THE WORLD UNITE! A REVOLUTION IS AT HAND! JOIN US IN THE MARCH TO UNION SQUARE! THE TIME FOR CHANGE IS NOW!" yelled a young brunette woman standing on a soap box in the center of the street.
"There she is! Mouthing off again!" said a large plump women to a red headed one besides Erik and Marcello. Erik noticed the look of longing on Marcello's face. It was a look he knew too well. Marcello pointed her out,
"That's my Sadie...She's a beautiful, no?" Erik looked and saw the woman with dark eyes and heart shaped face was beautiful...and rather loud.
"Oh yes, she is beautiful. Have you been friends long?" Marcello blushed and explained,
"No, she speeches to me, I never speak to her! Her Mama isa the lady I told you about, who rents the rooms." Sadie continued,
"AND WE NEED IT NOW!"
"Brava! Brava! Beautiful!" called Marcello clapping and urging a confused Erik to do likewise. The plump woman remarked to her friend,
"What she needs...is a man!" The Irish woman laughed and called out,
"Soapbox Sadie! Give it a rest!" Dryly, Marcello introduced Erik to the women,
"Signora Shaughnessy, Signora Brandenheim!" Erik tipped his hat politely but grew confused...(and a little concerned) when they smiled widely and Mrs. Shaughnessy asked Erik,
"So...Mister?"
"North." Erik told them.
"Mr. North...does your wife like America so far?" asked Mrs. Brandenheim.
"I'm not married!" Erik told them a little annoyed to be reminded of the fact. Then Erik watched as an older but attractive dark haired woman came up to Sadie in a shawl. Sadie yelled out,
"IT'S TIME TO THROW DOWN THE SHAKLES OF OPPRESSION ONCE AND FOR ALL...AND MARCH AS..."
"Sadie! ENOUGH!" the older woman said.
"Quiet Mama I'm not finished!" Sadie shushed her.
"Not finished!" her mother cried. She looked down the street and saw a policeman walking his beat. She continued with fear in her eyes,
"The Police look! Down the street he's coming! Quick before he sees you!"
"No Mama! This is a free country!" Sadie told her.
"For free they'll throw us out of it!" her mother quipped pulling her down. Erik wondered what the old woman had to hide. But before he knew it, Mrs. Shaughnessy and Mrs. Brandenheim took both of his arms and led him away from Sadie and her mother down the road saying,
"Welcome-to-the world-of Avenue A..."
"Where there's a family drama playing day after day..." said Mrs. Brandenheim pointing to Sadie and her mother as they argued back home.
"There's a secondhand emporium on every corner...that I'd walk" Mrs. Shaughnessy told him pointing to the group of giggling young women looking at him appraisingly to which he looked over his shoulder in confusion.
"Ringovelli and little girls with jacks all share the same...sidewalk!" Mrs. Brandenheim told him as little girls ran around them and Mrs. Shaughnessy took it upon herself to smack their bottoms to behave.
"And that's the way it goes...on Avenue A!" Everyone seemed to say as Erik wandered out into the middle of street in wonder at all the activity.
"LOOK! There's a cart full of bagels coming your way!" Marcello said as he pushed Erik from getting run over by the cart but not before snatching one up for himself and Erik. Erik turned his head on hearing a strange sort of horn instrument nearby. Marcello pointed him out,
"There's a rag-man with a Saxophone, there's not a tune he can't play...
part of the great kaleidoscope called Avenue A!" Marcello showed Erik around the local hot spots on Avenue A. A man in a music store was playing on a piano, while a small black youth was tap dancing on a box for spare change. They stepped inside the local pub, Foley's watching for a few minutes the bar maids dancing and kicking up their heels and skirts with the customers. Marcello took Erik by the local temple where there was a joyous batzmitzvah going on for one young boy, and then across the street outside an Italian restaurant, a newly married couple and their guests danced outside.
"And that's the way it goes on Avenue A!
Where's there's a new adventure waiting day after day!
There's a rag-man with a saxophone...
There's not a tune he can't...play!
All part of the great...kaleidoscope...
OF AVENUE A!" Things began to quiet again, and Erik was too much in awe to worry about his face or being out in public for so long. He barely noticed Marcello bringing him up the road to the boarding house where Mrs. Lowenstein was sweeping off snow with her broom.
"This is the lady I was a-telling you about. Signora Lowenstein. She has beautiful rooms, reasonable rates...I think it would be suitable for you Signori. Signora Lowenstein! Ecusa Signora, I bring you a new boarder. Signori Erik North." introduced Marcello. Stepping forward and kissing her hand, Erik said,
"I'm delighted to meet you..Madame Lowenstein!" Flattered and blushing like a younger girl, Mrs. Lowenstein said,
"So fancy yet! A pleasure Mr. North! Well...will it just be yourself, Mr. North?"
"Yes...I have no family...And I shall require privacy." Erik told her.
"Privacy feh! Good luck finding privacy anywhere in New York! Especially with yentas about!" She told him. Erik furrowed his brow,
"Yentas?"
"You know the pushy buttinskiys who has to know everybody's business as if the world wouldn't spin without it!" Then a tall handsome man in a uniform came out of the house followed by a young red headed girl in eclectic winter clothing.
"Good day to you Mrs. Lowenstein!" he said in a light Irish borough.
"Ah Mr. Kilkenny! One of our finest borders! This is Mr. North, he's to be living with us." said Mrs. Lowenstein introducing Erik. Kilkenny shook Erik's hand,
"Mr. North! Pleasure. If you don't mind, I have to go catch the trolley." Then he turned to the girl beside him and bent over to look her in the face.
"Now goodbye Nora. And make sure no trouble today! Your sister should be home in an hour or so."
"I'll be good Da!" smiled the girl before giving her father a hug. Erik looked to the ground. He wished he had someone in his life to give a hug too. Then Kilkenny walked off to catch the trolley car while the girl ran off down the street to play.
"Fine family!" said Lowenstein.
"Yeah...and with a fine older daughter you might like Erik!" implied Marcello as Erik looked at him aghast. Mrs. Lowenstein smiled,
"Yes...a beautiful young woman! A hard worker! You'll meet her and you'll love her Mr. North!" Marcello was certainly amused at the situation he put Erik in. But when Sadie came out of the house looking quiet miserable, Erik smiled knowing how he'd exact his revenge.
"Ah Sadie! Help our guest to the house! Enough with the women suffering..."
"Women's suffrage Mama! One man, one vote! The law says nothing about women!" corrected Sadie.
"Excuse my daughter...She's a little excitable!" said Mrs. Lowenstein.
"But she does have a point." Erik said stating his opinion. Sadie smiled,
"Why thank you!" Erik pointed to Marcello, ignoring his gestures of protest,
"I'd like you to introduce you to one of your greatest admirers, Mademoiselle. This is Marcello Damaroco." Marcello gulped and took off his hat to step before Sadie and say,
"An honor, Signorina. Ia come listen to you every day."
"My speeches?" she asked.
"To you a speech...to me...a song!" Sadie blushed when the romantic mood was broken by someone yelling,
"Come back here!" The red headed Kilkenny girl from earlier ran past them, only to be caught by the beat officer. She protested,
"Ah, I didn't do nothin'!"
"Don't lie to me! You're raising the devil out here! Now get inside!" he said with a warning Scottish borough.
"I'll go, I'll go! Just let go of me." the girl said innocently. The policemen relinquished only to have a foot meet his shin a moment later. As she ran off, the policeman yelled,
"Hooligan! You wait and see I'll be speaking to your father!" Erik chuckled to himself as he watched the little spitfire run off. She reminded him of himself at that age. Mrs. Lowenstein threw her hands up in the air chuckling,
"He never learns! Come, you shouldn't freeze out here!" Before turning to go inside, Erik noticed the sign that listed the rates.
"Oh before I forget...the only cash I have with me is Francs and it shall take a few days for the account in my bank to be transferred overseas..." Erik told her.
"Don't worry about it! A fine man like you? You'll get a job, you'll pay me when you can! Come" she said smiling as she walked inside. Erik nodded to Marcello and smiled,
"Merci Marcello." Marcello and Sadie walked off in different directions and Erik paused looking outside at the streets and the passing people.
"I've...land-ed-in-the-world...of Avenue A...
Where you hear...'Coma sta? '
And 'Bless my soul!'
And 'Oy Vey!'
And maybe a man from a cold and cruel past,
a lifetime away!"
Can become...part of the world...
Of Avenue...A..." And taking a bagel from out of his pocket, Erik took a bite and shut the door behind him.