Henry blanks out as he sits in his study staring at the empty page wrapped in the platen of his Olympia typewriter— flashing back to a 5th-grade homework assignment 25 years ago.
Every evening 10-year-old Henry would do his homework on the kitchen table in the families Queen’s apartment while his nanny washed dishes.
His nanny Nil was a young, white-skinned willowy beauty who was deaf from birth. They communicated by writing notes mostly, but, she could read lips and speak— the way the deaf speak, cacophonous, and monotonal.
Little Henry’s parents were in an open relationship and he rarely saw them. His mother, Helena Lucowski, was a stripper and addict who spent her free time in Harlem at jazz clubs partying with Black musicians and dealers.
Victor Lucowski his old man, was a womanizer, and traveling salesman who traveled New England in his Cadillac selling Maidenform lingerie to small-town mom and pop shops in backroad country towns.
While doing his homework Henry writes a note to Nil,
I HAVE TO WRITE A STORY FOR CLASS, DUE TOMORROW, HELP ME!
Nil scribbles back,
WRITE ABOUT YOUR PARENTS.
Henry goes to work, writing a story on Victor and Helena Lucowski.
He finishes the story in 30 minutes, handing it to Nil to look at.
My old lady Helena Lucowski was born in Warsaw, Poland after World War 2.
She works as a dancer at the Hideaway Club. Men like to look at her, she says she drives them crazy.
When she isn't working, she drinks whiskey and hangs out with colored guys in Harlem.
Sometimes she comes to the apartment with colored guys and they all act crazy. The colored guys talk loud and rough. She gives them money when they want, but, never has money to pay Nil.
After a few drinks, she changes her clothes and leaves with her colored pals.
Before she goes she hugs me and says I love you, but I hate her and am happy when she goes.
My dad Victor Lucowski was born in Pennsylvania, he drives a big car around New England selling bras and underpants.
He stinks of whiskey all the time like my mother. I hate them both. When he comes home he’s stupid drunk, falling all over Nil trying to kiss and hold her. She hates him too.
The jerk says the same thing over and over.
Henry, I want you to be something, not a 2-bit hawker like your old man.
He spends a night and leaves the next day to do the same thing, selling bras and panties to lame family stores in small towns.
Nil proofreads the story for Henry, laughing out loud, hugging him, and scribbling a note that reads,
I LOVE IT, YOU'RE GOING TO BE A GREAT WRITER SOMEDAY. ARE YOU GOING TO READ IT IN CLASS? He writes back,
YEAH, MAYBE, IF THE TEACHER PICKS ME.
The next morning little Henry dresses for school, wearing the usual, penny loafers, pegged trousers, and an Oxford shirt.
In the kitchen, he sits at the table and eats. Nil's made waffles, eggs, hot milk, and fresh juice. For them, breakfast was indispensable.
After breakfast, she holds his hand as they walk 10 blocks to school. Henry carries a cloth briefcase filled with books, pencils, erasers, paper, and most importantly his homework, the story.
He goes to PS 176, like many schools in New York City, it’s numbered without a proper name, giving you the feeling it’s a gulag.
Nil hugs him tight at the entrance to PS 176 looking at him with loving eyes, not wanting to embarrass him in front of the others by talking deaf speak.
He walks to his classroom, the halls are cluttered and noisy with chatter. Inside he sits at his desk, waiting as the room fills.
Before the teacher shows the kids wreak havoc, throwing paper airplanes, and taking the piss out of one another.
Miss Bagelmiester walks in, she’s shapely, bookish, and dressed conservatively. As she stands in front of her desk she simply clears her throat, the classroom goes silent.
She's a control freak who doesn't advocate the Socratic method of learning saying to the class,
good morning children, let’s stand, put our hands over our hearts, and say the Pledge of Allegiance.
The kids stand— thoughtlessly repeating the pledge on auto-pilot. None of them can remember memorize it, they always knew it somehow. Then Miss Bagelmiester says,
I hope everyone did their homework. I'd like all of you to read your stories in front of the class today. When you’ve finished reading place them on my desk in a neat pile. OK, who wants to start?
Silence engulfs the classroom— Nobody wants to be the first to read.
Miss Bagelmiester says,
well, if nobody wants to volunteer, I’ll call on someone, let’s see— Sally Myers,
Sally’s a good student who’s plain as a broom, she walks to the front of the classroom, standing facing her classmates and holding a sheet of paper with writing on both sides.
Her story's about her cat Fluffy. She goes on about Fluffy’s diet, how much he sleeps, and where he poops. Then documenting Fluffy’s trip to the veterinarian to be declawed.
When she's finished a Jewish kid who always reeks of Gelfitle fish raises his hand to ask a question, Sally points at him and he says,
why'd you declaw Fluffy? Would you like someone to pull your nails out?
Sally turns red and runs to her desk, putting her head down on it. Miss Bagelmiester tells Larry the schlemiel,
Larry, please refrain from asking perverse questions.
None of the kids in class know what perverse means, they think it’s a dirty word. Miss Bagelmiester calls on Pedro Pruitt.
He walks to the front of the class, turns towards his classmates. Pedro’s dressed shabbily, his Dad’s the janitor of PS 176.
His story documents his old man’s clean up duties at PS 176. The class listens intently as he describes how his dad sweeps the halls with a large dust mop, runs the floor scrubber, empties the trash, and so on.
Then, Larry the Gefilte fish-eater raises his hand, Pedro calls on him,
Pedro why does your old man smell like whiskey all the time? Pedro holds his ground saying,
it’s the alcohol in the window cleaner and the junk that goes into the floor scrubber. Miss Bagelmiester says,
Larry your questions are disrupting the class.
He was precocious in all the wrong ways, famous at PS 176 for bringing a Playboy to school.
Sitting at her desk, she looks over the class roster,
Gideon Funknal,
Gideon was the best student in PS 176, his father was an electrical engineer at IBM in Somers. Gideon always buttoned his shirt collar and could use a slide rule. The 5th-grade curriculum bored him and the Queen's Department of Education planned on transferring him to The Bronx High School of Science after 5th-grade.
As he walks to the front of the room, someone throws a spit wad at him. To the delight of the class, the chewed bit of paper lands on his shoulder, clinging there as he reads his story which is more like a thesis, entitled, What is Pi?
The kids in class fidget in place, bored shitless because they don't understand what Gideon's talking about.
Finally, Miss Bagelmiester thanks him, telling him to go back to his desk because he would have pontificated till recess on Pi.
She calls on Betsy Pike, who’s the girl next door, looking like Little Debbie on Little Debbie Cookie packages. Betsy’s popular in class because she’s lily-white and always speaks kindly, seeing the world as a pastoral place.
She walks to the front of the class in her perfectly pressed dress and polished loafers, turns toward them, and begins reading her story.
It’s a story about an unblemished village with groomed landscapes where the houses look the same and only good things happen.
Betsys has 2 kids, a boy, and a girl, her house is spotless, she cooks lovely meals, and her husband, Dan, works at city hall.
The kids in class are transfixed and drawn to her story, which they think is a fairy tale.
When she finishes reading Miss Bagelmiester says,
that’s wonderful Betsy, thank you.
As she walks back to her desk, Larry the shmendrick grabs her story, standing up and pretending to wipe his butt with it.
The class roars with laughter as Miss Bagelmiester makes a b-line to Larry’s the fish eater's desk, grabs him by his ear, pulling him out of the classroom all the way to the principles office on the 1st floor.
Larry's suspended from PS 176 indefinitely until a meeting with his and Betsy Pikes' parents is scheduled with the principle.
Miss Bagelmeister then calls on Henry,
He walks to the front of the class, turns, and begins reading his story.
The words flow freely out of his mouth, but, Miss Bagelmiester and the class are unnerved— the story's so stark that it rattles them.
When he finishes the room's silent for a few minutes but it feels like a long time, finally Bagelmiester says,
Henry, can you stay a few minutes after class? Also, I would like to remind everyone that colored shouldn’t be used to refer to Black Americans.
Henry’s embarrassed to be singled out in front of the class and feels he needs to save face saying,
I could have made up a sappy story like Betsy Pike, but I’m no liar.
As the bell rings signaling lunch Henry yells at the top of his lungs,
IT TAKES BALLS TO TELL THE TRUTH, TURDS!
He deserved a— that a boy— from Bagelmiester that day not a reprimand after class— because in life the most revolutionary thing someone can do is tell the truth.
The world is full of Betsy Pikes, but there are only a few Henry Lucowskis.