Read Online Without Prejudice by Andrew Rosenheim - Free Book Online

a month would press a five-dollar bill on Abe to pay for the dubious service. Once across, Bobby would run the first few yards, keen to wipe away all trace of the old man, then skip down 57th Street until he’d catch sight of Vanetta waiting for him at the corner of Dorchester, her arms folded and a smile on her face. He’d sprint and jump up into her arms and she’d twirl him around before putting him down all dizzy, and then they’d walk the fifty yards past the empty lot to the back yard, along the thin alley next to the Christian Science church, up the stairs and home.
    From the kitchen’s lair – cosy in winter, airy with just the screen door during summer – they would sometimes set out on what Vanetta called ‘expeditions’. Lily and Mike were occupied with extra-curricular activities, which as far as Bobby could tell meant organised sports for his brother and bossing people on the student council for Lily, and his father was always busy now. So Vanetta took over many parental errands. She took Bobby to buy new shoes at Kiddie Kicks on 53rd Street – he noticed how she whistled in wonder at the price on the box of school shoes the man helped him pick out, saying, ‘Seems mighty high to me,’ and she took him once a week to swimming lessons at the Hyde Park ‘Y’, where she waited on her own amidst a crowd of middle-class mothers. She even took him down to Jeffrey and 72nd Street when he needed a tetanus shot from Dr Rosenfeld.
    And if Vanetta needed to run an errand, she brought him with her now, since most afternoons he was the only child in the family she had to watch over. He’d even seen where Vanetta lived, when she’d forgotten to leave a note for the gas man, explaining something about the meter in the basement. They’d driven over on Garfield, past the Wonder Bread Company where her brother Alvin worked. This was definitely ‘Bip your bips’ country, since the street corners seemed inhabited by black men standing around with nothing to do, a beer can or a port bottle in their hand. When they stopped at one light a man waved at Vanetta, and seeing Bobby next to her, his head barely visible above the dashboard, he shouted out something – Bobby could tell it wasn’t nice. The man began walking towards them, and to Bobby’s astonishment Vanetta drove forward, even though the light was still red. Bobby looked at her with his eyes as big as moons, but she just laughed, shaking her head. ‘I ain’t waiting for that fool to bother us, Bobby.’
    Indiana ran north–south and was lined by brick and grey stone apartment buildings. Vanetta parked on the side of the street. ‘Now when I get out you get out on the kerb side and you come quick. We don’t want to be hanging around outside, okay?’
    Her apartment was on the third floor where the only light on the landing came from a dim candle-shaped bulb. There were a lot of locks on her door; it took Vanetta three keys to open up. Inside was a little hallway, smaller than at Blackstone Avenue, and a living room with a TV in one corner. There was a low yellow sofa and a big stuffed armchair, which had plastic sheets draped over them. No books, Bobby noticed; his daddy had books on almost every wall. But he liked the room, and Vanetta had put some marigolds in a copper vase on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
    He followed her into the kitchen. Another spick-and-span room, with a small Formica table and three kitchen chairs with metal legs. Vanetta went to the sink and made Kool-Aid in a plastic jug, getting ice from the fridge’s freezer top. ‘You drink this, Bobby,’ she said, handing him a cup. ‘You must be thirsty. We won’t stay long. I’ll write a note for the gas man and then we can leave.’
    While she did this he sat and looked around. There was a cabinet on one wall with a glass front; inside it he could see plates stacked and some glasses. Above the sink on two shelves sat saucepans, and hanging from the wall on big iron hooks