The Hoods Read Online Free PDF Page B

standing outside, talking to Fat Moe's pretty brunette sister, the untouchable Dolores. We all had a secret crush on her. She had a pair of dancing shoes slung over her left shoulder. She smiled coolly when she saw us approaching. Her greeting was only for Cockeye.
    “Hello, Hy,” she said, “do you mind playing for me tonight while I practice?”
    “Sure, Dolores, it's a pleasure.” Cockeye was overcome with delight. “Anytime, anytime, for you, anytime,” Cockeye repeated effusively.
    They adjourned to the back room of the store. We followed and watched as Dolores changed her shoes and went into her dance. She improvised a dance routine to Cockeye's playing. Her limb movements thrilled me. My eyes followed her every motion as she kicked and pirouetted easily, gracefully, around and around. She stopped after awhile to catch her breath. She sat talking to Cockeye.
    Maxie called out to her, “Hey, Dolores.” She turned and stared coldly at him.
    “Hay is for horses. Who do you think you're talking to, Peggy? I'm not accustomed to being addressed in that manner.”
    She turned her back to Max and continued her conversation with Cockeye. A tingle of delight went through me. That was the moment I felt my first deep pang of pride and overwhelming infatuation for Dolores. It was a clean, uplifting emotion, entirely different from the feeling which Peggy or other neighborhood girls inspired in me. Looking at her sitting daintily aloof on the chair, I felt she was like a dancing angel—something ethereal. Yeh, this was it. I loved Dolores.
    I smiled and walked over to Dolores. “What kind of dancing is that? What do they call it?”
    She looked haughtily over her shoulder. “I thought you knew everything. That was interpretive dancing. You're not as smart as you think you are.”
    I stood there, red-faced, at a loss for an answer.
    Cockeye volunteered, “Dolores is practicing to be a professional dancer. She's going to be a star in a Broadway show some day.” He tapped his harmonica on the palm of his hand. In a swift tempo he played, “Yes Sir, That's My Baby.”
    She floated around the room again in time to the music. Somehow her attentions to Cockeye didn't seem to bother me in the least. It was Maxie who aroused my jealousy. While she was dancing, Max mischievously picked up her shoes and threw them behind the bench.
    She stopped after that number, smiled at Cockeye and said: “Thanks very much, Hy. You play that harmonica beautifully.”
    Cockeye blushed and mumbled something. She looked angrily around for her shoes. I walked behind the bench and picked them up and handed them to her. She misunderstood. She gave me a furious look. Without a word she put them on. I could have killed Max. She left the room, her green eyes flashing and her head held high.
    Unhappily, without a word, I walked outside. I stood in the doorway, feeling as if the world had crumbled around me. Dolores meant a lot to me, and Maxie had loused me up with her.
    A placating voice cut through my unhappy mood: “You wanna Sweet Caporal, Noodles?”
    Maxie offered me a cigarette. I took his peace offering.
    We stood there smoking. Mr. Gelly came walking down the street.
    When he reached his doorway he whispered: “You boys bring me some bundles in the morning?”
    Maxie nodded and said, “Yep, don't we always supply you with morning papers?” He patted Maxie on the head.
    “Pick me up a bundle of Tageblatts tomorrow, yeh?”
    Maxie said, “Yep.” He nudged me. “We get up early tomorrow, Noodles.”
    I nodded. “What time?”
    “About four-thirty, I'll meet you on the corner.”
    “I'll be there.”
    We stood there, finding it difficult to make conversation.
    We blocked the doorway. A customer made for the door. We stood aside with deference for the well-dressed, mustachioed “Professor.” We tingled with pride and pleasure when he greeted us with a pleasant smile.
    “How are you boys?”
    “Okay, Professor,” Max said.
    “Fine,