Chapter 12 Part 1 Chapter 1 Brooklyn (4)

Francie crossed the street and came across to Gimpy's.Jimbe is lame.He was a kind man, and very kind to little children...at least that was the opinion of everyone, until one day he lured a little girl into a dark room of his own. Francie struggles with whether to sacrifice a penny to buy a Gimpy's special: the prize bag.Modi Donovan, whom she is occasionally good friends with, is about to buy one.Francie squeezed behind Moody Donovan.She pretended she was going to spend the penny.When Modi hesitated and pointed to the bulging bag in the window, she held her breath.Francie would pick a smaller bag.Looking over her friend's shoulder, she saw her pull out a few stale candies and stare at her prize, which was a linen handkerchief.Francie got a small bottle of perfume once.She hesitated to buy a prize bag again.The candy is inedible, but it feels good to have a surprise once in a while.But she thought again, at least she was with Modi, who had surprised her by buying the prize bag just now, and it felt just as good.

Francie walked down Manhattan Avenue, saying the nice street names: Scholes Street, Messerole Avenue, Montrose Avenue, then Johnson Avenue.The last two avenues are Italian settlements.The section called Jewish Town begins on Siegel Street, includes Moore Street, McKibon Street, and finally passes Broadway.Francie walked toward Broadway. What the hell is going on on Broadway in Williamsburg, Brooklyn?Nothing but the best nickel and dime in the world!It was a big, shiny store, and it had everything in the world...at least for an eleven-year-old.Francie had nickels.Francie is capable.She can buy anything in the store!It was the only place in the world where she could feel that way.

When she got to the store, she walked the aisles between the shelves, picking up things she liked and playing with them.What a feeling it is to be able to pick up something, hold it in your hand for a while, feel its contours, touch its exterior, and then put it back carefully!She had nickels, so she was entitled to them.If a clerk came and asked her if she wanted to buy something, she could say yes and buy it so that he could see it too.Money is a good thing, she decided.After she had enough of touching things, she bought what she expected to buy—a five-cent mint-flavored pink and white wafer biscuit.

She walked home along Graham Avenue in the ghetto.She saw an assortment of carts—each a small shop, surrounded by haggling, emotional Jews, and the peculiar smells of the district, grilled fish with vegetables, freshly baked black Wheat bread, and something else, smelled like boiled honey.It all thrilled her.She looked at these long-bearded men in alpaca bonnets and silk-filled jackets.She was very curious why these people had such small eyes and such fierce eyes.She looked at the little shops that looked like cat's ears, and smelled the fabrics strewn about on the tables.She noticed the feather mattresses bulging from the windows, the brightly colored clothes of the East hanging out on the fire escape, and the topless children playing in the sink.A woman with a child sits patiently in a hard wooden chair by the side of the street.She sat under the blazing sun, watched the noisy life on the street, and guarded the mysterious life in her belly.

Francie remembered being surprised once when her mother told her that Jesus was a Jew.Francie thought Jesus was a Catholic.But mother knows everything.Mother said that the Jews just saw Jesus as an ordinary Jewish boy who was mischievous and refused to work as a carpenter or start a family.I also heard from my mother that the Jews believe that the Messiah has not yet come.Thinking of this, Francie couldn't help staring at the pregnant Jewish woman.