It wasn't another typical boring night at the lodging house on Duane Street. That night was one of the two we were required to be in before 6 PM. Most of us didn't object. Every Saturday night we filed in early and cleaned up, and put on our fresh outfit for the next few days (those of us fortunate enough to have more than one pair of clothing). We would gather in the hall downstairs next to the room that Kloppmann occupied. There were always two large wooden tables set up on these nights.
The benches were placed around them, set with tin bowels, plates, and cups. Next to them were ancient silverware and old stained napkins. We would all stand behind a plate setting and wait for whichever rich benefactor from the church that ran our home was to speak with us that night, and lead us in prayer. The Catholic raised boys would try and keep their backs to him and cross themselves before they ate. The large pots of watery stew that we ate seemed like a feast. We usually received a piece of cheese and a decent piece of bread, and on the rare occasions like holidays we got a bit of butter to go with it.
We boys always finished every bit of the food that was placed in front of us, and most of us saved our bread and cheese for eating the next day. Most of the boys considered the meal we were given our reward for the 2 hour long sermon we would have to listen to once we were done. We all cleared the table and rinsed our dishes in a large basin at the back of the room. We then moved the tables out of the way and our benches became pews.
Some of the lessons were tolerable, the nice benefactors would tell us stories from The Bible about great men, but there were always a few that only spoke of Hellfire and brimstone. As we sat there that night the gentleman spoke to us of resisting our carnal desires, because they were temptations from the devil. He told how God would punish us for smoking, drinking and gambling. I held in a laugh at that comment considering I was the only person in the group over the age of 8 who didn't do all three.
He continued on for well over an hour before he moved onto the topic that he referred to as desires of a sinful nature. Most of us knew what his thinly veiled comments meant. I could see a grin on Jack's face, and I knew from the way he was looking around and licking his lips that Race was hardly containing his urge to blurt out a response.
Growing up in a religious household, I had heard all of this before. I wasn't even surprised when began to read to us from the book of laws in the Old Testament. I listened a little closer when he actually read from the Scriptures, it was the only time I was able to hear the words anymore. He soon read a line about a man lying with a man, and I froze in thought. I remembered my nights sharing a bed with Kyndal, him holding me as I cried. Was it wrong of me to do so? Should I have slept on the floor?
The punishments and lack of forgiveness didn't match what my Sunday school lessons taught of a loving forgiving Heavenly Father. I did my best to push it out of my mind as something that their church had made up. I instead counted the wood boards along the back wall until he finished.
After he closed in prayer, Jack motioned to the group of older boys that were standing around, and we all followed him as he headed up the fire escape to the roof.
He told us about the boxing tournament in Brooklyn for Independence Day. We older boys were invited and Jack didn't want us telling the younger ones. We didn't want them following us, or tattling to Kloppmann that we were going.
We headed back down to the bunk room after Race finally put out his cigar. I put my piece of bread under my pillow; I looked up at my bed and then down at the spot on the floor where I knelt every night with my arms crossed and said my prayers after the lights were put out. I glanced around at the other boys; most of whom were in bed asleep, and saw Kloppmann blow out the two lamps at the end of the room. I pried off my boots and climbed in bed.
The stern face of my father greeted me as I closed my eyes, but I ignored his image and thought of Spot.