Page 41 - Where the Dream Ends ebook

Where the Dream Ends

With the thought of Mrs. Clarke absorbing his attention,
out of the corner of one eye Harry thought he saw someone
throw something into the street; he charged after it just as a
taxi came careening around the corner. It barely missed hitting
him as he leaped back onto the sidewalk between two parked
cars.

“Hey, whatsa matter Mister, you crazy or somethin’?” the
driver yelled, rolling down his window and screeching to a
halt.

“I…I’m s…sorry,” Harry barked, holding his hand up to
signal he was all right. The driver stared at him, apparently try-
ing to decide whether to get out of the car and beat Harry up
or ignore him as just another lunatic. Finally, the cabbie shook
his head and moved on. As the car raced up the street Harry
saw a squashed pack of cigarettes where he had leaped onto
the roadway. When he looked up, he saw a shade tightly drawn
over Mrs. Clarke’s window.

Trembling from his near miss with the cab, Harry walked
down the hill to the corner. Facing north on Kingsbridge Av-
enue he saw, still standing, his old grade school and across
from it the Catholic school built at mid-century for the specific
purpose of creating fear in Harry’s life. For nine years Harry
walked up and down the avenue no fewer than four times a
day; every trip was a living hell.

The Catholic school kids picked on Harry for only one rea-
son: because he was Jewish. They didn’t know his name, they
didn’t know where he lived. They didn’t care. He wasn’t one of
them. Sometimes, for no reason, they would beat him up as he
was coming home from school. Once, riding his bicycle out-

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