Sam says, “Hey, not bad.”
I've been working all day, going over and over the windows until there are no streaks, mopping the wood floors, using the Pledge to shine them up. I've done only half the seats, but what I finished looks pretty good, and the room has a nice lemon smell.
Sam tries to give me the rest of the money.
“I'm not finished yet.”
“I trust you, sonny- by the way, now that you work for me, are you ready to give me your name?”
That catches me by surprise, and Bill pops out.
“Nice to meet you, Bill.”
It's been so long since anyone's called me by my name. Since I've talked to anyone.
Sam shows me a paper bag. “I got you some dinner- Noah's Bagel, just a plain one, 'cause I didn't know if you liked onions or one of those fancy bagels. Also, cream cheese- do you like cream cheese?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Hey, you're a working man now, need your nutrition.” He hands me the bag and walks around the shul. “You like the Pledge, huh? Running out of the stuff?”
“Almost.”
“I'll buy some more tomorrow- that is if you want to work tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
“Go ahead, take the money.”
I do. He looks at his watch. “Time to quit, Bill. We don't want to be accused of exploiting the working man.”
We walk outside and he locks the shul. The alley is empty, but I can hear the ocean through the space on the side of the building, people talking on the walkway. That big Lincoln of his is parked crazy, the front bumper almost touching the building. He opens the driver's door. “So.”
“'Bye,” I say.
“See you tomorrow, Bill.” He gets in the car and I start to walk away- south, away from that Russian perv. I'm liking the feel of all that money in my pocket but wondering where to go. Back to the pier? But it was so cold. And now I have money…
I hear a loud squeak, turn, and see Sam backing the Lincoln out of the alley. He has plenty of room, but he keeps backing up and stopping, jerking the car; the brakes are squeaking.
Uh-oh, he's gonna hit the fence- no, he misses it. I figure I should direct him before he hurts himself, but he makes it, turning the steering wheel with both hands, his head kind of pushed forward, like he's struggling to see through the windshield.
Instead of driving forward, he backs up, stops next to me. “Hey, Bill. You really got somewhere to go for the night?”
“Sure.”
“Where? The street?”
“I'll be fine.” I start walking. He stays next to me, driving really slowly.
“I'd give you money for a hotel, but no one's gonna rent to a kid, and if you show all that cash, someone's gonna take it from you.”
“I'm fine,” I repeat.
“Sure, sure… I can't let you sleep in the shul because what if you slip and fall, we got a liability problem- you might sue us.”
“I wouldn't do that.”
He laughs. “No, you probably wouldn't, but I still can't- listen, I got a house, not far from here. Plenty of room; I live alone. You wanna stay for a day or two, fine. Till you figure out what to do.”
“No thanks.” That comes out kind of cold, and I don't turn to see his face, because I know he's going to look insulted.
“Suit yourself, Bill. Don't blame you. Someone probably hurt you. You don't trust no one- for all you know, I could be some crazy person.”
“I'm sure you're not crazy.” Why did I say that?
“How can you be sure, Bill? How can you ever be sure? Listen, when I was your age- a little older- people came and took away my family. Killed all of them, except me and my brother. Nazis. Ever hear of them? Only, when I knew them, they weren't nazis, they were my neighbors, people I lived with. My family lived in their country for five hundred years and they did that to me- I'm talking the Second World War. Goddamn nazis. Ever hear about any of that?”
“Sure,” I said. “Learned about it in history.”
“History.” He laughs, but not a funny laugh. “So who am I to tell you to trust people- you're right, plenty of schmucks out there.” He stops driving and I stop walking. More money lands in my hand. Two tens.
“You don't have to, Mr. Ganzer.”
“I don't have to, but I want to- oh hell, sleep in the shul tonight. Only, don't fall and break your neck. And if you do, don't sue us.”
Then he jams his car into reverse and backs up all the way to the shul. It's scary, the way he weaves and swerves all over the place. It's a miracle he doesn't smash into anything.