“It’s a great opportunity, Abe. We’ll build something really important together. Think about it and get back to me”
IT was a short walk from the Stilwell Avenue train station to the Freed Hotel. The Atlantic Ocean nearby flung its sharp ocean breeze onto the two women walking together, and Marjorie shivered a little in her bright-pink coat.
Perele Schwartz was never a chatterer, but today even Marjorie was silent as they approached the boarding house. She had a lot to think about. Crumbs in pockets, Passover menus, Annie’s tears, and those unexpected words: “A mother needs her children, even more than they need her.”
The street was fairly quiet, though they could hear the plaintive sound of squawking seagulls swooping down over the water combined with the occasional truck rumbling by.
And then, with frightening suddenness, there was chaos. Rough voices shouting curses. The squeal of a bike’s tires going way too fast. The horrible sound of metal hitting flesh. The thud of a human body making harsh contact with concrete.
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