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| photo by David R. Beatty |
"Look at those poor slobs shivering on the bench" I point out as we drive by Codrington Park on the way to ice skating. "Can they come with us?"
"But I wanted just you" pouts Monty looking over at me with impossibly blue eyes glistening in the sunlight of a bright and frigid fall day.
"Well I need a driver" I point out, reminding her that I only have a learner's permit. "And besides, they don't have skates so we can always get away."
"Hop in assholes" she grudgingly assents, waving Newsy and Mazurk over to my father's blue Impala.
"If it isn't Bonnie and Clyde" grins Mazurk leaning over the bench seat. "Which bank are we hitting today?"
"The First Bank of Willows Pond" scoffs Monty, not ready to let go of her resentment at the intrusion.
"Are you mad, Monty?" he scoffs, conking her lightly on the side of the head. "Those Middlesex dudes are after us since we knocked their socks off."
"Well my family used to skate at the Fleischmann farm" she counters. "We can go there if you're so afraid of those Bluejay boys."
"The Fleischmann distillery moved to Kentucky" chimes in Newsy before Mazurk can object. "They donated the land to the county for a park."
"Colonial Park it is" I conclude, heading across the Queens Bridge over the Raritan River into South Bound Brook.
"Hey, stop at the South Brook" commands Mazurk as we turn onto Canal Road. "Frankie might hit me with a pint a that Fleischmann's."
__________
The antagonism between Caroline LaMonte and Leo Mazurkewicz was an old one in a town of immigrants. Bound Brook had been a sleepy village since it's purchase from the Lenape tribe by several members of the British gentry in 1681. Then the LaMonte's arrived after the Civil War and soon opened a woolen mill on the banks of the Raritan. The jobs were a magnet for waves of workers arriving at Ellis Island thirty miles to the east. First Italians and then Poles populated the growing west end of town, and their numbers increased with the arrival of chemical and plastics manufacturing in the mid-twentieth century.
Conflict had been common between the newcomers from southern and eastern Europe up until the 1970s. Italian and Polish young men competed for jobs and women, leading to the development of ethnic gangs whose frequent tussles for territory sometimes erupted into violence. The one thing they agreed on, however, was that residents of the five hundreds, those neighborhoods to the north of town with a fire signal call number starting with five, were rich, snooty, and, most of all, despicable. This last judgement was mutual except, perhaps, for matters of the heart.
"Ready or not, here I go" calls Caroline after strapping on her new white figure skates and then gliding halfway across the glistening surface in one stroke.
"Are you doin her?" whispers Mazurk sitting beside me on the bank as I fumble with my brother's old brown hockey skates. "That rich bitch'll stab ya in the back."
"No comment" I respond, dragging my feet because I've never before skated on a lake. "Now pass that pint!"
"Just keep them straight" advises Newsy as he gives me a shove onto the new ice.
"And steer clear a that hole" calls Mazurk as Newsy plops beside him and slings a blanket over their shoulders.
Three big black birds call from a bare tree across the lake as a grinning Caroline waves me over. I wobble across the glassy surface in skates that are two sizes too big. Then one of the birds flaps up and something shifts in my right skate. It swoops down over Caroline as she raises both arms over her head. Time slows as I watch her mouth shift from a smile to an O, see the big black bird diving toward me, and plunge into blackness.
Conflict had been common between the newcomers from southern and eastern Europe up until the 1970s. Italian and Polish young men competed for jobs and women, leading to the development of ethnic gangs whose frequent tussles for territory sometimes erupted into violence. The one thing they agreed on, however, was that residents of the five hundreds, those neighborhoods to the north of town with a fire signal call number starting with five, were rich, snooty, and, most of all, despicable. This last judgement was mutual except, perhaps, for matters of the heart.
__________
"Ready or not, here I go" calls Caroline after strapping on her new white figure skates and then gliding halfway across the glistening surface in one stroke.
"Are you doin her?" whispers Mazurk sitting beside me on the bank as I fumble with my brother's old brown hockey skates. "That rich bitch'll stab ya in the back."
"No comment" I respond, dragging my feet because I've never before skated on a lake. "Now pass that pint!"
"Just keep them straight" advises Newsy as he gives me a shove onto the new ice.
"And steer clear a that hole" calls Mazurk as Newsy plops beside him and slings a blanket over their shoulders.
Three big black birds call from a bare tree across the lake as a grinning Caroline waves me over. I wobble across the glassy surface in skates that are two sizes too big. Then one of the birds flaps up and something shifts in my right skate. It swoops down over Caroline as she raises both arms over her head. Time slows as I watch her mouth shift from a smile to an O, see the big black bird diving toward me, and plunge into blackness.
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