Read Online Son of a Smaller Hero by Mordecai Richler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mordecai Richler
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unstrapped his scout knife. “We’ll be late for
shabus,”
Pinky’s Squealer said. “Maybe we should go back?”
“Go ahead,” Hoppie said. “But watch out for snakes, eh?”
“I didn’t say anything!”
Voices, laughter, too, now, came splashing loudly through the trees. The ground began to level off and, just ahead, they saw the beach. There were real canoes, a diving-board, and lots of big crazy-coloured umbrellas and deck-chairs. The boys approached the beach cautiously, crouching in the bushes. Noah was amazed. The men were tall and the women were awfully pretty, lying out in the sun there, just like that, not afraid of anything. There was no yelling or watermelon peels or women in bloomers. Everything was so clean. Beautiful, almost.
Gas was the first to notice the soft-drink stand. He turned to Pinky’s Squealer. “You’ve got a quarter. Go get us Pepsis.”
“Gas should go,” Hoppie said. “He’s the least Jewish-looking of the gang. Look at his nose – Christ! They’ll take him for a
Goy
easy.”
“You can have my quarter.”
“Aw go water your tea-kettle,” Gas said. “Maybe I don’t look as Jewish as you or Noah, but they can always tell by pulling down your pants …”
They all giggled.
“It’s not so funny,” Hoppie said. “That’s how they found out about my uncle, who was killed in Russia.”
“You’re all chicken,” Noah said. “I’m going. But I’m having my Coke right out there on the beach. If you want anything to drink you’ll have to come too.”
A convertible Ford pulled away, and that exposed the sign to them. Gas noticed it first. Suddenly, he pointed. “Hey! Look!”
THIS BEACH IS RESTRICTED TO GENTILES
That changed everything. Noah, who got very excited, said that they should hang around until evening, and then, when the beach was deserted, steal the sign.
“Yeah, and walk back in the dark, eh?” Pinky’s Squealer said. “It’s Friday, you know. Ain’t
your
Paw coming?”
Gas and Hoppie looked puzzled. Both of them had been forbidden to play with Noah by their mothers. Pinky’s Squealer made sense, but they did not want to be associated with him and if Noah intended to stay, they would look foolish having left him behind. Noah wanted to stay. Having his father up for the weekend usually meant two days of quarrelling.
“Aw, in a hundred years we’ll all be dead,” Gas said.
Pinky’s Squealer waited, kicking the stump of a tree absently. “If you come with me, Hoppie, you can have my quarter.”
“Watch out for snakes,” Hoppie said.
Pinky’s Squealer ran off.
They waited. The afternoon dragged on slowly. But at last the sun was lower in the sky and a stronger breeze started up. Only a few stragglers remained on the beach.
“Is a Gentile a protestant and a catholic too?” Hoppie asked.
“Yeah,” Noah said.
“But they’re different,” Hoppie said.
“Different,” Gas said. “You know the difference between Hitler and Mussolini?”
Noah said that as it was getting late they would have to chance it, stragglers and all. The few couples that remained were intent on each other and wouldn’t notice them if they were smart. Noah said that he and Gas should stroll out on to the beach, approaching the sign from different directions, nonchalantly. It didn’t look like it was stuck very solidly into the sand. Hoppie was to yell if he saw anybody coming for them. He had stones and the BB gun.
So the two boys walked out innocently on the beach. Noah whistled. Gas pretended to be looking for something. The wind kicked up gusts of sand, and the sun, quite low now, was a blaze in the opposite hills. Suddenly, frantically, the two boys were yanking atthe sign. Gas roared with laughter, tears rolled down his cheeks. Noah cursed. They heard, piercing the quiet, a high-pitched yell. “Look out!” Gas let go, and ran off. “Hurry!” Noah persisted. A man was running towards him with a canoe paddle in his hands. Noah gave one last,
shabus,”
Pinky’s Squealer said. “Maybe we should go back?”
“Go ahead,” Hoppie said. “But watch out for snakes, eh?”
“I didn’t say anything!”
Voices, laughter, too, now, came splashing loudly through the trees. The ground began to level off and, just ahead, they saw the beach. There were real canoes, a diving-board, and lots of big crazy-coloured umbrellas and deck-chairs. The boys approached the beach cautiously, crouching in the bushes. Noah was amazed. The men were tall and the women were awfully pretty, lying out in the sun there, just like that, not afraid of anything. There was no yelling or watermelon peels or women in bloomers. Everything was so clean. Beautiful, almost.
Gas was the first to notice the soft-drink stand. He turned to Pinky’s Squealer. “You’ve got a quarter. Go get us Pepsis.”
“Gas should go,” Hoppie said. “He’s the least Jewish-looking of the gang. Look at his nose – Christ! They’ll take him for a
Goy
easy.”
“You can have my quarter.”
“Aw go water your tea-kettle,” Gas said. “Maybe I don’t look as Jewish as you or Noah, but they can always tell by pulling down your pants …”
They all giggled.
“It’s not so funny,” Hoppie said. “That’s how they found out about my uncle, who was killed in Russia.”
“You’re all chicken,” Noah said. “I’m going. But I’m having my Coke right out there on the beach. If you want anything to drink you’ll have to come too.”
A convertible Ford pulled away, and that exposed the sign to them. Gas noticed it first. Suddenly, he pointed. “Hey! Look!”
THIS BEACH IS RESTRICTED TO GENTILES
That changed everything. Noah, who got very excited, said that they should hang around until evening, and then, when the beach was deserted, steal the sign.
“Yeah, and walk back in the dark, eh?” Pinky’s Squealer said. “It’s Friday, you know. Ain’t
your
Paw coming?”
Gas and Hoppie looked puzzled. Both of them had been forbidden to play with Noah by their mothers. Pinky’s Squealer made sense, but they did not want to be associated with him and if Noah intended to stay, they would look foolish having left him behind. Noah wanted to stay. Having his father up for the weekend usually meant two days of quarrelling.
“Aw, in a hundred years we’ll all be dead,” Gas said.
Pinky’s Squealer waited, kicking the stump of a tree absently. “If you come with me, Hoppie, you can have my quarter.”
“Watch out for snakes,” Hoppie said.
Pinky’s Squealer ran off.
They waited. The afternoon dragged on slowly. But at last the sun was lower in the sky and a stronger breeze started up. Only a few stragglers remained on the beach.
“Is a Gentile a protestant and a catholic too?” Hoppie asked.
“Yeah,” Noah said.
“But they’re different,” Hoppie said.
“Different,” Gas said. “You know the difference between Hitler and Mussolini?”
Noah said that as it was getting late they would have to chance it, stragglers and all. The few couples that remained were intent on each other and wouldn’t notice them if they were smart. Noah said that he and Gas should stroll out on to the beach, approaching the sign from different directions, nonchalantly. It didn’t look like it was stuck very solidly into the sand. Hoppie was to yell if he saw anybody coming for them. He had stones and the BB gun.
So the two boys walked out innocently on the beach. Noah whistled. Gas pretended to be looking for something. The wind kicked up gusts of sand, and the sun, quite low now, was a blaze in the opposite hills. Suddenly, frantically, the two boys were yanking atthe sign. Gas roared with laughter, tears rolled down his cheeks. Noah cursed. They heard, piercing the quiet, a high-pitched yell. “Look out!” Gas let go, and ran off. “Hurry!” Noah persisted. A man was running towards him with a canoe paddle in his hands. Noah gave one last,
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