He nodded sadly. “You will have them.” My friends were waiting downstairs.

“What did the old cluck want?” Maxie asked.

“Nothing much. He was talking to himself mostly. He wanted me to continue school.”

We walked down the street. Suddenly, we stopped and stared: there was the biggest man in the world. He was bigger in our eyes than George Washington was to most school kids. He was looking right at us.

“Hello, kids,” he said.

We stopped in awe^[39]. Maxie answered, “Hello, Monk.” It was Monk, the toughest man on the East Side, and, as far as we were concerned^[40], in the world.

“I want you kids to do me a favor^[41],” Monk said.

“Anything you say, Monk,” Max said.

“O.K., follow me.” He gestured with his hand.

We would have followed our hero to hell if he had ordered. He led us into a saloon on Ludlow Street where ten husky guys were sitting around drinking beer.

Monk laughed and said to them, “How do you like my new gang?”

They looked at us and smiled. “Tough looking gang, all right, Monk. How about some beer, kids?” one of them said.

It was the first time we had drunk the stuf.f It tasted awful, but we drained our glasses, feeling a little dizzy and important.

Monk Eastman explained what he wanted us for. We were given two baseball bats each and told to meet him and his gang in Jackson Street Park. A gang of Irish hoodlums^[42] had made a habit of coming to the park and annoying the old Jews who met there. This time, the Irish were in for a surprise^[43]. Monk had gathered together the ace man from every neighborhood on the East Side for this event. It was an all-star gang, all big-name guys.

If Monk and his men were to carry the bats through the streets and into the park, it would be a giveaway^[44] to the cops and to the Irish mob. That was the reason we were invited along.

Monk and his men got into the park one by one. They sat on benches, with the older members of their religion, took Jewish newspapers out of their pockets, and buried their heads deep in the papers so they wouldn’t be recognized. We stood a little distance away ready with the bats. We didn’t have long to wait. From the river side of the park we saw the Irish coming – about fifteen tough-looking guys. Immediately, the religious Jews left the park.

Abie Cabbagehead, one of Monk’s gang, was closest to the advancing mob^[45]. Abie was famous for his large head, which wasn’t soft like a cabbage. It was as hard as a rock. The biggest of the Irish gang walked over to Abie and growled, “Out of the park, you goddamn kike^[46].”

Abie rose slowly from the bench, as though he was about to leave. Then, with his head lowered, he charged in like a bull^[47]. We didn’t wait for any signal from Monk. We ran in with the bats. Monk and his men jumped off their benches. Each grabbed a bat from us, and the slaughter began. We stood watching, with rocks in our hands. If an Irish head came into view, the five of us would conk^[48] him. We were having a hell of a good time.

That’s where we first laid eyes on Pipy, Jake the Goniff, and Goo-Goo. Maxie was the first one to notice something strange. Three kids about our own age were jumping in and out of the thickest part of the fighting. Max said to me, “Watch them, they’re working together. They’re up to something^[49], sure enough.”

They would be in the middle of one fighting group; then they would break away and dive into another.

I said, “They aren’t fighting, what are they up to?” Maxie shrugged his shoulders.

The police wagon finally came along, the cops in their high helmets swinging their clubs. Everybody who could, ran.

Maxie and I grabbed a bat apiece. Max shouted for the rest to follow, and we started chasing the kids. We cornered them by the East River.

“Didn’t we have enough fighting? Let’s be friends,” one of them said.

He stuck his hand out, introducing himself. “My friends call me Pipy, and these are my two pals, Jakie and Goo-Goo.”

Maxie said, “Noodles, go through their pockets.”

I gave Patsy my bat. We were amazed at what their pockets held. There were three wallets and four watches. We took the money out of the wallets, about twenty-six dollars. Maxie handed Pipy, Jake and Goo-Goo two bucks each. After considering a moment, he threw them each a buck more.

Jake the Goniff was a tall kid. Pipy was short and stunted. Goo-Goo was squat with enormous, questioning popeyes. They were so difef rent in appearance, I thought them a peculiar combination. But underneath they were alike. They were beginners from different countries, but with the same humor and instinct for thievery.

Then we stood around listening to some of Pipy’s deeds. That was our mistake. Whitey, the cop, came running over. First he hit Jake on the backside with his club.

“Hand over those wallets and watches,” he said.

He went through our pockets. He took all our newfound possessions. “Go ahead, beat it^[50] before I lock you up,” he said. Sullenly we walked away.

“That goddamn Whitey,” Maxie muttered bitterly, “he’s a crook^[51]. I’ll bet he don’t turn that stuff back. He keeps it for himself.”

“What did you think?” I said sarcastically. “Don’t you know everybody’s a crook? Everybody’s illegit^[52]?”

“Yep, you’re right,” Maxie said.

“Hope to see you fellows again,” Pipy grinned at us. He, Jake, and Goo-Goo walked away in the direction of Broome Street.

“Yeh, come around,” I called to them. “We hang around in Gelly’s candy store on Delancey Street.”

“Yeh, we’ll be seeing yuh^[53],” Jake the Goniff called back. We walked down the street. We had already forgotten the unpleasant episode with Whitey.

It was Friday afternoon. The sun, the streets, the people, everything seemed different on a Friday afternoon. We were happy and carefree. We had all eternity before us: two whole holidays, wonderful days with no school. I was hungry, and tonight we ate the big meal of the week – the meal of the Sabbath^[54], the only substantial meal of the week. No stale bread rubbed with garlic, washed down with tea tonight. Momma baked. And there’s hot chaleh bread^[55] and gefuellte fish^[56] and fresh horseradish for supper. My mouth was watering.^[57] Boy, was I hungry.

We walked through Orchard Street, where the pushcart peddlers were gathering up their wares to get home early for the Sabbath. They eyed us warily. They recognized us. After a few sly maneuvers, Max and Patsy clipped an orange apiece. The peddler shouted curses after us as we ran.

As we shared the oranges we strolled into Delancey Street, the street I lived in. “There’s Peggy,” Cockeye stuttered excitedly.

On my stoop, leaning against the door, was blonde Peggy, the janitor’s daughter.

“Hi, boys! Give me a piece of that orange, Noodles,” she called out. “I’ll give you a piece of my orange if you give me a piece of your…”

Patsy didn’t finish his sentence; he stood there smiling hopefully up at her.

“Fresh boy.” She was giggling, pleased with the idea. She waved him away. “Later, not now, get lost^[58]. But not for an orange, bring me a charlotte russe^[59] if you want me to give you a good one.”

I walked past Peggy, giving her a feel^[60].

“Oh, Noodles, stop it, not here, let’s go under the staircase,” she whispered. I was young. I said, “Not now, I’m hungry.”

Maxie shouted after me, “Meet us at Gelly’s after supper, Noodles.” “I’ll be there!” I shouted back.

I ran up the five flights of creaky stairs into our dark flat. It was full of nice baking smells.

“Supper ready, Momma?” I yelled as I threw my books in a corner. “It’s you, my good boy?”

“Yes, Ma, I asked is supper ready?”

“You asked?”

“Yes, Ma, I asked is supper ready?”

“Yes, yes, it’s ready, but wait till Poppa and your brother come home from schul^[61] and I light the candles.”

“I’m hungry, Ma. Why do I have to wait for the candles, and Poppa?” “Because if you was like Poppa and your brother, you wouldn’t be in trouble all the time, and maybe you wouldn’t be so hungry all the time, and think of schul once in awhile, maybe.”

Momma gave a deep sigh.

“I think of food, and making money, a lot of money, Ma, a million dollars.”

“A million dollars? You’re so foolish, sonny, believe me. For the millionairies is the million dollars; for the poor people is the schul. Now don’t bother me, please, I have to finish the wash so we can all take baths in the washtub before we have dinner. And don’t forget to remind me: I got to rinse your head with kerosene.” “Did Poppa borrow any money for the rent, Ma?”

I could hear Momma sighing deeply from the kitchen.

“No, sonny.”

I picked up a copy of Robin Hood that Maxie had loaned me and began reading it over again. I was a hungry reader. I would read anything I could get my hands on.

I could still hear Momma rubbing clothes at the washtub. Gradually the light grew dim. It was difcif ult to read by it. I struck a match and climbed on a chair. I tried to turn the gas on, but no gas came out of the fixture. I called out, “Ma, there’s no gas.”

She sighed heavily. “I used it all up for the baking and the hot water for the wash.” “So give me a quarter^[62] for the meter, Ma.”

“I’m sorry, sonny, the quarter I can’t spare.”

I slammed the door and went out to the hall toilet used by all six of the families living on the same floor. In a hidden niche above the watercloset, I had a box of cigarette butts I had collected from the gutters. I smoked three butts to kill my appetite.

I heard footsteps coming my way. I waited hopefully. The toilet door opened. Yes, it was Fanny, who lived down the hall. She was my age.

“Oh, it’s you. Why don’t you lock the door like you’re supposed to?”

She smiled coquettishly.

I bowed mockingly. “Come in, come in, said the spider to the fly.”

She stood in the doorway smiling. “What for, you fresh thing, so you can feel me all over with your fresh hands?”

She giggled. She put her hands on her wide hips and swayed back and forth. She smiled provocatively. Her tight short dress demonstrated her plump round breasts and her fat, full little figure. It got me all excited. I reached down through the top of her dress. I fondled her warm, smooth young breasts. Gently I squeezed her nipples. She swayed with her eyes closed, breathing quickly.

“Come in,” I whispered in anxious excitement, “so I can lock the door and play around good with you.”

I grabbed her around her soft, large buttocks and pulled her in with me. I was about to lock the door. A deep bellow sounded from the other end of the hall.

“Fanny, Fanny, hurry up with the toilet.”

Fanny whispered, “That’s my Momma. Better leave me go. I’ll let you play with me some other time.”

I was reluctant to let her go. I was too excited.

I went downstairs, hoping to meet Peggy. I went down the cellar. I looked on the roof. She was nowhere around. Disappointedly I stood on the stoop watching the girls, making obscene remarks as they passed by.

Big Maxie came hurriedly along. He waved to me. “Come on, Noodles.” I ran down the stoop.

“What’s up, Max?” I asked.

“Come on, we grab a ride with my uncle.”

“The uncle picking up a stiff^[63] with the hearse?” I asked delightedly.

“Yep; up in Harlem. Madison Avenue. We give him a hand.^[64] He’s got an unexpected job.”

We reached the office all out of breath, just in time to give his uncle, the undertaker, a hand carrying the long wicker basket out to the hearse. Proudly we sat on the large front seat. Driving on upper Fifth Avenue along the park, Maxie’s uncle pointed out the rich homes.

Sarcastically, he commented, “Just like down the East Side. I’ll bet they’ve barely got enough to eat in those houses.”

The remark reminded me of my chronic hunger. I whispered to Max, “Maybe we can promote your uncle for some hot dogs or something.”

Maxie nodded and winked. He nudged me. “Some day we’ll be able to buy plenty of hot dogs.”

“It can’t be too quick for me,” I said.

“You kids like a couple of hot dogs?” Maxie’s uncle grinned. “O.K., I can take a hint^[65], after we pick the stiff up.”

Riding back to the East Side after we had picked up the stif,f Maxie’s uncle stopped at a hot dog wagon and bought us each two frankfurters. We leaned against the hearse, eating our hot dogs. Back in the hearse, as a joke he handed us cigars. To his surprise, we took them, lit up and puffed away. He chuckled in admiration.

“You kids are okay.” We helped him into the funeral parlor with the body. “Thanks, boys.” Then he chuckled and corrected himself, “Thanks, men.” He tossed us each a quarter.

Maxie said, “Glad to have been a help to you, uncle. Any time you need us, let me know.”

He looked fondly at Max. “You’re growing up to be a big boy.” He patted him affectionately.

“Thanks for the ride and everything,” I said.

“Not at all,” he said. “So long, men.” He smiled after us.

We walked into Gelly’s candy store smoking the cigars, feeling like men of the world. Patsy, Dominick and Cockeye were already there, waiting for us. Patsy called out, “Hey, big shots, where you been?”

Maxie tossed his quarter on the counter and said, “Malteds^[66] and charlotte russes for everybody.”

Gelly’s son, Fat Moe, was behind the counter, with a dirty apron around his large middle. He picked up and examined the quarter.

We sat on the stools loudly sucking the whipped cream off our charlotte russe cakes. We watched the electric malted machines whirl; they were the newest sensation on the East Side.

Jake the Goniff, Goo-Goo and Pipy, our new found friends came in. We exchanged hellos and gave them a sip each from our malteds. Pipy suggested, “Try a riddle on them, Jake.”

Jake turned, a smile on his face. “Why is the East River like a girl’s legs?” None of us knew the answer.

“Because the higher up you get, the nicer it is.”

Pipy spied the box of charlotte russes on the counter. The three hurried over to them.

Fat Moe yelled over, “Hey, you guys, lay of.f You guys got dough?^[67]”

Pipy produced a dollar bill. Jake the Goniff took it out of his hands and waved it in the air.

He called out to us, “You guys want some charlotte russes?”

Max asked, “Where did you guys get the buck?”

“Pipy rolled a lush on the Bowery^[68],” Jake proudly put his arm around Pipy’s shoulders.

“Aw, he was a pushover^[69],” little Pipy said modestly. “I took this off him, too.” Pipy produced a large knife.

I remembered O’Brien’s knife of specialized knowledge for success. This was some sort of omen. This knife was for me. I had to have it. It would give me a magic power, I thought. “Let’s see it, Pip?” I asked.

He handed it to me. It was a spring, push-button knife of German make. It made a click and a large shiny blade swished out. There was no question about it. I was going to keep it. I kept opening and closing it in front of Pipy’s nose. Alarmed, he kept backing up.

Maxie was eyeing me. He said: “You like it, Noodles? You going to keep it?”

I said, “Yeh, it’s a beaut.”

“So keep it, it’s yours. Ain’t it, Pip?”

Maxie turned his smile from Pip to Jake to Goo-Goo. They understood that that smile of Maxie’s and my attitude meant bad business. Patsy bent his face down close to Pipy and snarled, “Yeh, you’re giving Noodles a present, ain’t you, Pip?”

Dominick and Cockeye walked behind them, ready for action. I kept staring at Pipy and clicking the knife open and shut at his throat. The atmosphere was tense in Gelly’s candy store for a moment. Jake finally broke the tension with his good-natured laugh.

“Yeh, you can have it, Noodles, it’s too big and dangerous for a little guy like Pipy anyhow,” Jake said.

I walked over to the shelves of paper-bound books, examining the blade. It was beautiful. It was sharp on both sides and came to a strong needle point on the end. The blade itself was at least six inches long. A push of the button, the blade clicked into the six-inch handle. It made a formidable weapon. It fitted just right in my pants pocket. My eyes wandered to the display of dime^[70] paperbound books. To me it was a hypnotic display of all sorts of Westerns. I thumbed through Horatio Alger’s From Rags to Riches^[71], debating with myself whether to buy a book, or use the quarter that Maxie’s uncle had given me for the gas meter at home. I thought, if I bought it, I wouldn’t have any light to read it.

Fat Moe came over to me and whispered, “Go ahead, Noodles, stick one in your pocket before my old man gets here. Don’t bend it too much, but bring it back tomorrow, all right?”

I stuck From Rags to Riches in my pocket, feeling happy and grateful, saying: “I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Moe, I’ll bring it back in the morning.”

I felt as if life was complete. I had a quarter for the gas meter, a new knife and a book to read tonight.

“All right, fellas,” Maxie was taking his tie and jacket off, “let’s get going. You guys want to come along?” He turned to Jake, Pip, and Goo-Goo.

“What are you going to do?” Jake asked.