March 22, 2013
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Ellie
He was just twenty in late '45 when he was discharged from the army
He got a job in a bakery cleaning up the mess left in the machines and ovens
After the bakers were done for the day
The owner's wife then had him gather up the broken loaves and pastries
He delivered them to a settlement house run by Franciscans on the lower east side
Often he stayed and ate and helped the brothers serve a simple meal
To the drunks and prostitutes and junkies that roamed the neighborhood streets
One evening a young hooker came in with a couple of experienced pros
The older women left because they didn't like yesterday's warmed-over stew
He sat with her while she ate and then they went to a bar
He bought her a drink and he had a beer
She told him her name was Eleanor but he could call her Ellie
She said she was eighteen but he knew she was younger
She asked him - Didn't he think she looked like a young Betty Grable?
He told her he thought she was very pretty
She said she was from Baltimore
She told him she was trying to save enough to go to Hollywood and be a star
She asked him if he had money to be with her later but he said no
(He'd seen enough syph movies in the service but he didn't tell her that)
She shrugged and started to light a cigarette when she suddenly fell to the floor
Shaking violently as the seizures consumed her
The black bartender whose name was Leon came around
And shoved a dirty bar-towel into her mouth
After a few minutes she stopped shaking and passed out
Her tight skirt was stained where she wet herself - A puddle formed on the floor
Leon helped him carry her to a booth in the back
He said she'd probably come around in a while but wouldn't be much of a lay
He said he could fix him up with someone else - but he said no
He sat holding her hand until she finally opened her eyes
She told him she lived around the corner
Could he please help her up the stairs
She didn't think she could climb those five flights on her own
If he liked he could stay the night - It wouldn't cost him anything
She had some wine and a couple of bottles of beer
He was welcome to it all - She said she couldn't drink any more
Because she said it would make her sick again
When they got to her place she said she would like to take a bath
She wouldn't be long and in the mean-time he could help himself to a beer
A few minutes later he heard a loud crash and glass breaking
He found her sprawled naked over the edge of the tub
Her head was in the water and her hand was cut by a shattered water glass
He jammed a wet wash-cloth into her mouth like he saw Leon do
He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom
He bandaged her hand as tightly as he could and dried her hair
When she stopped shaking he stretched her out on her bed and covered her up
He lay next to her all night with this sick feeling in his stomach
He looked at her for the longest time before he fell asleep
He thought wild feverish thoughts about how he would take care of her
He would get a good job and make a lot of money and they would get married
He would find a doctor who would cure her
They would have lots of kids and live together and always be happy
When she woke up next morning
She thanked him and apologized for having two fits in a row like that
She said it was the first time that ever happened
He told her it was okay - she couldn't help being sick and if she didn't mind
He had to leave to go to work but he would come back after he finished
Instead he quit his job and went back to his room and packed his things
And got on the subway to the Bronx
Comments (4)
I'm touched. It's an old story in some ways, the woman in distress and the man wanting to help and run at the same time. But you told it powerfully and I did not anticipate the ending. Great post.
@GreekPhysique - Thank you so very much... Every word in the poem is true... Epilepsy is a terrible affliction but as my daughter told me a while back, she has a friend whose 16-year old boy is epileptic and lives an almost normal life with the new drugs now available.
What a life you’ve led and how wonderfully you unfold it in your poetic stories. I did look at your paintings and many of the scenes and portraits “spoke to me.” I know you have your hands full with your present situation, which makes me all the more grateful that you took the time to read and comment on my bits of poetry. --Elaine
This is an amazing post. You have such a vast treasure of memories to share with us. I thank you for the same. The ending of this post was wonderful.
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