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Tuesday, March 1, 2011

13.(0-1) Slim Novel 13 Start:The 20thCentury Limited

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SLIM NOVEL 13
Starts where 12 left off, with Miss Ali, newly pregnant, leaving her Bronx to travel to Winnipeg.

Chapter 1   The Twentieth Century Limited Carrying a Man Named Godfrey 

The 20th Century Limited is a world-beater express train with a route between New York City and Chicago in 16 hours, leaving Grand Central early evening and getting into Chicago's Union Station comfortably after breakfast in dining car, watching the shores of Lake Erie rush by from ahead, through the window to your right. One gets it all for less than $100, a very good week's salary in 1945, and, if you have influence or pay more, you may enjoy it in your own private compartment as Mr. Godfrey Lovelace is doing sitting by a train window in early evening while the Limited slows at Croton on Hudson to pick up a passenger, who, Mr. Lovelace notes, is a young blonde woman with only a shoulder bag and a very friendly look.
   Something in the way she walks, he is thinking, reminds him of the girl in the motel in North Carolina several years ago.
   "It can't be!" He exclaims. "The odds are thousands to one." Being scientific, he decides to see for himself and leaves his compartment to get closer.

Mr Lovelace likes to muse. Now, he is thinking I wonder what a white person like she will think an obviously African-origin person like me is doing in a private travel compartment on the 20th Century Limited?
   He is a high school science teacher in an all-Negro North Carolina school and also moonlights as waiter in the motel where he first met Ali and newspaper man Kimura doing their USA 1939 World's Fair trip.  (Slim Novel 2, click 2.(69-70) A Story of the South)  Now, he is traveling to Chicago for the annual National Conference of Negro High School Science Teachers. His trip started out in an old 2nd class segregated railroad coach but at the change in Washington DC to a northern-based railway, he - by flashing his National Association for the Advancement of Colored People card and letter of approval from the Negro Porter Labor Union big boss, A. Philip Randolph - got, for free, a posh sleeping/sitting private compartment with slavish porter service which got even more slavish after the change at New York City's Grand Central Station to the 20th Century Limited.
   His trip already bore fruit because on the run from Washington to New York City he befriended a lonely 13-year-old Jewish boy traveling from a parental vacation in Miami Beach back to the Bronx NY for a week alone before his parents return. And over food in the train's diner, and sodas in the conversation car, Mr Lovelace had been able to fill the young mind with stories of the old slave south that inform how Negroes enriched the American culture. He particularly told about Eli Whitney's learning from his Negro slaves secrets of the later famous cotton gin. And he told about the Negro intellectual W.E.B. Du Bois's great book on American Negro culture, The Souls of Black Folk, and, just before they parted at Penn Station in New York, Mr Lovelace handed the boy his own copy of the book.  
   Now, with the satisfaction of a teacher, he hopes this white boy has come away from the encountering with new respect and good fellow-feeling that will translate into his becoming as adult the opposite of what white Americans often are - disrespectful of black men and women and thoughtless in dealing with them. The teacher planted a good seed.
   His musings are ended by face-to-face encountering the white girl he'd seen from his compartment's window, now walking the red carpet corridor of the 20th Century Limited just as the train starts moving forward.

"Excuse me, but aren't you Miss Ali?"
   "Wow!  Mr Godfrey Lovelace!"
   "I have a private compartment. Will you join me?"

Minutes later they sit facing. A negro porter has just set down coffee and a plate of 10 marshmallows. Godfrey and Ali relax back in the cushion seats and have an enlightening conversation. For it, click 13.2 Conversation on the 20th Century Limited

13.2 Conversation on the 20th Century Limited

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2. Conversation on a Moving Train

Each had filled in the other on how life had passed and why each happens to be on the 20th Century Limited. 
   Godfrey comments, "I am very interested in your use of the seminar as a regular Sunday meeting for educating on questions of practical life and community survival. Very creative and a better use of a Sunday then our present church meeting where we just wail spirituals and listen to nonsense about a God who, for us Negro folk, is really The Man." Noting Ali's quizzical look, he quips "Massa! The White man." 
   Then Godfrey gets more serious. "Miss Ali, I hope you do not misunderstand but I should like to invite you to stay and share my compartment to Chicago. That includes free food and beverage." He pauses. "By share I do not mean anything personal. You notice," he indicates the fold-in bunk beds, "the two beds with curtains for privacy. It will be important. I have much I wish to discuss."
   Ali says OK. There is about Godfrey a good feeling of interest and trust. For next, click  13.3 Family Size, Overpopulation, Childraising

13.3 Family Size, Overpopulation, Childraising

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3. Jane and Boy

"Jane and I decided to have only one child and our boy, John, is now twenty-two and in his senior year at University of Chicago," says Godfrey, after he and Ali have finished a supper of tuna salad and toast - communist style -, which is to say, eaten from a single plate.  Ali already knows some details of Godfrey's personal life from him previously.
   "Why only one?" She stops abruptly. "Oh, please excuse my getting personal."
   "Don't be shy, young lady. It is why I asked you in here.  Gives me a chance to talk about things. Why only one child? We had a general reason and a personal reason to limit our baby-making to one. First, we take overpopulation seriously. We believe in a balance of life on Earth with lots of open living space for animals, plants and unpolluted standing space for inanimate things like rocks and lakes. Now, the world population is one and a half billion, already doubled in the last hundred years and set to take off like a hyperbole on a graph as soon as the War ends."
   Ali decides to be a critic to bring out the argument. Actually she agrees with Godfrey. "But you and Jane are superior persons - intellectually, physically, morally. Don't we humans need more of you two? While you are responsibly limiting your birth, ain't the Kallikaks - you know the congenital idiots who are the majority in America and elsewhere - having 5 or more kids?  What's gonna become of the world if that continues?"
   Godfrey chuckles, "Miss, you are a real smart one. Well, I get your point but also I see its fallacy. You imply that numbers of people, growth of population, automatically confers benefits, in this case, brutal physical control of the Earth by the unintelligent because there are more of them." That may have been so in old, worse days with hordes of Huns or Mongols over-running Asia and Europe but today we are getting more and more - as that Hitler man calls them - wonder weapons:  poison-gas, rockets, automated aircraft, and, soon, if my science reading and fiction serve me well, the ultimate bomb that will neutralize human hordes. It is a triumph of intelligence over brute power. So one highly intelligent new person will equal one thousand dumb previous generation."
   "Wow!" Ali explains. Do you think it will come to that?"
   "Yes," he replies quietly. But I am no Nostradamus predictor of future. I will leave details to future historians. One final word on that though. We need a striking reduction in human population. The final war using wonder weapons should accomplish that."
   Ali is not finished with her critical questions: "But what about the so called economy of scale.  I mean the economists are always advising growth, growth, growth and markets, markets, markets. An't it true that more people crowded into our living spaces means a bigger market and more profits and more trickle-down money for every one to be affluent with?"
   Godfrey does not chuckle now. he looks grim. "Yes, that is Capitalism. It is an argument to appeal to short term greed at the expense of the next generations of all humanity and the good of the other life and non life on the planet. The people of the industrialized countries will become more unnecessarily, crassly affluent as population density increases but at the cost of  living conditions for the whole earth and, in another hundred years with the U.S.'s winning the War and Capitalism triumphant, we will be  living on hothouse Earth."
   "You mean runaway global warming from the overpopulation's more intensive use per person of fossil fuels fueled by the increased affluence of increased numbers?"
   "Precisely. And the ironic bad point is - the increased affluence that is coming shall be a crass trashing of our culture, of our happy way now of moderate living, of humane behavior." Godfrey throws up his hands. "But nothing to do about it now except to perfect one’s personal excellence and for us new people to stick together and work as best we can for a good, moderate, low populated world. That is why Jane and I only produced our John. He is going to be worth more than all of the Kallikaks."
   Godfrey shifts. "But allow me to go to the other reasons that Jane and I only made one baby. Here is the personal."
   "Shoot.  I'm all ears"
   "Alright, but how about some dessert?  My friend, the 20th Century Limited chef, told me he's made perfect blueberry tarts and it goes perfectly with Oolong tea."
   "Yeah, it's been too long since Oolong," quips Ali then sheepishly, "Oh  excuse my rhyming; its my madness."
   "A fine madness, I'd say Miss."
   Godfrey rings for the porter to give the order. 
   To Continue, click  13.4 The Mixed Race Option

13.4 The Mixed Race Option

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4. Concentrating For Excellence

Ali licks the blueberry tart sauce from her lips and drinks down the last of the Oolong tea.

   "Jane and I wanted to concentrate on our child rearing."
   "Concentrate?"
   "Concentrate our parental resources, time and effort to raise our child to be a superior member of his world. Our idea is, first, that having more children dissipates parents' efforts and harms the first-born who often gets ignored.
   "Second,  we limited ourselves to one child because our son John is mixed-race and we knew he would face obstacles. And the main one, we guessed, would not be about his acceptance as white or black. No, that we were prepared to arrange because John's physical appearance mainly comes from Jane's genes, which seem to be dominant there."
   Ali interjects. "But you live in what is called Deep South, and as you told us at the motel, your wife - by great efforts that included plastic surgery - passes for a light Negro. Shouldn't everyone around you know your son is what they would call Negro, no matter his physical appearance?"
   "Well, yes, if we allowed John to grow up just in the segregated south where he was born. But Jane and I had that all figured out so he spent summers and holidays in the north at her parents' in Massachusetts in order to not be imprinted with the idea he is merely a black boy. We wanted him to have a Caucasian liberal New England mentality."
   "But isn't that a kind of disloyalty to the Negroes from which you come? Oh! Excuse me again if I am too personal."
   "No, no!" Godfrey explains. "In USA, particularly Deep South the white strain is presumed to be the pure one. I mean by that, if a White makes a baby with a Negro, the baby is Negro." He pauses. "But the fact is that Whites in the Deep South have a proportion of Negro genes - originally from White Massa raping his female slaves and even continuing to the present, of cases where a White man sleeps with a Black woman and then arranges for the Caucasian-appearing offspring to be raised somewhere else as White."
   Ali interrupts, "As you and your wife are doing with your John?"
   "Yes, but one big difference. John is being brought up mixed race. Although he may pass for White in a society that despises persons of color, he knows and has respect for his origins - both the black and white side. Respect but not pride."
   "Yeah!" chimes Ali "Pride! An't that what goes before you fall?"
   "Exactly!" Godfrey chuckles in his characteristic way. Then he continues seriously. "You may hear or read from Black nationalists like Mr. Marcus Garvey the phrase Black is beautiful, which means an extolling of the Negro slave culture put upon us by White Massa, as I like to call the White European society here that rules. At risk of being vulgar I say that present Negro culture stinks; it is primitive, uneducated and ugly, with the small exception of what is called the Black Bourgeoisie led by Mr Du Bois and the poet Langston Hughes from Harlem. I refer to the soul food, the low class religiosity, the gutter music, the wailing, shrieking song style and the way of speaking English that marks an American Negro off as second class citizen. These are the things I do not want my son to be stamped with, which he would if we brought him up totally, mindlessly in the Deep South.
   "Wow! I never heard this point of view, Mr Lovelace!" Ali switches from the familiar Godfrey because the subject has now got serious.
   "Well, Miss Ali - by the way what is your surname?"
   "Le Beau?" From the French Huguenots."
   "Miss Le Beau. I think I stop now and let you sleep." He looks at watch. Nearly 1 AM. Filled your mind with enough for an evening."
   "Enough for a lifetime. Thank you, dear sir." 
   Godfrey goes for a stroll in corridor allowing Ali to change. Then with a porter he returns using a discreet knock and the porter arranges the bunk beds for the night and pulls the curtains for Ali to sleep in privacy while Godfrey changes and gets into upper berth.
   Continue next, click  13.5 How to Brilliantly Go to Sleep

   

13.5 How to Brilliantly Go to Sleep

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5.  Continuing on the 20th Century Limited - Shuffling Off From Buffalo
The route after the city of Buffalo, turns west and connects up with south shore of Lake Erie. Passengers on the right-side of the train open their morning eyes to a-rushing-by right-side window view of the waters of the Lake.

After talking with Godfrey, Ali lies in lower bunk, at first in thought. She has arranged herself in the position of maximal muscle relaxation: lying flat on back, face up, legs straight & loose and in slight external rotation with knee joints relaxed at slightly less than 180-degrees and the big toes facing a little away from each other and her arms extended alongside her body, the palms of hands flat down. And her head sinks into the small pillow to allow slight extension on the neck. It is ideal for thinking in repose and easily converts to light sleep because no muscle and almost no brain & spinal cord neurons are working; in contrast in the usual sleeper who gets into positions where muscles and nerves are made to work. Ali got that from her Uncle Guy - the psychologist at Harvard.
   She reposes only briefly. One of her studies to become Super-Person is to be able to go off to sleep at once. The brilliant Dr Stan, the neuro-psychiatry hospital resident in the Bronx, had taught her how to easily fall asleep. From research, he discovered the body clock neurons in the brain's hypothalamus (lowest part of mid brain just above roof of mouth) can signal  the brain's pineal gland (very small and plum-like in mid brain) within a minute after the stopping of the light rays striking the eye retinas, to release a fall-asleep hormone, and, in a sleep-deprived state, this will put one to sleep. So Ali practices routinely not to nap or daydream during her awake hours and, whenever she wishes to quickly fall asleep, she gets herself into the max relax position plus doing psychological relaxation by focusing on a single simple, reassuring thought such as I am in the best place and I appreciate my good luck at being happy and healthy in this best time. The final move is to block light rays from her eyes.
   Now, rapidly, Ali lightly sleeps.
   Outside Lake Erie's shoreline rushes by as the Limited races westward. 
   To continue next, click 13.6 Nuthin' Could Be Finah Than To Be Not in Caro...

13.6 Nuthin' Could Be Finah Than To Be Not in Carolina

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6. Alive!  Atingle!  Aglow!

Being really asleep - not the part where you are falling asleep, awakening or dreaming - is like being dead.  Unimaginable nothingness. Now, a pleasant aroma starts to intrude Ali's consciousness, bringing her back to life - Bacon frying!  She opens eyes and draws back her bunk-bed curtain. 
   Godfrey, his back to her, is attending to breakfast on the table as he sings:
Nuthin could be finah
Than to be not in Cayrolinah
In the mawnin'
   He looks around at the curtain sound.
   "You won't mind if I stay in these pajamas?" Ali asks and, at Godfrey's smiling shrug, she gets up and sits at the table. 
   "Wow, Godfrey, you really are Sir Boss here, an't you?"
   "Apt allusion, Miss, and I see you admire Mark Twain. Me too."
   Ali is referring to Godfrey's being allowed cooking rights in the compartment. The table has an under-panel, which has been slid out doubling its length between the facing seats and leaving just enough space for a person to get to the outside corridor. Godfrey stands frying 3 strips of bacon on a flat portable electric, opposite Ali. The top windows of the compartment are partly open and the fan is on.
   Ali watches as the bacon gets fried in its own melted lard and skillfully turned so as to fry each side equally and also pressed frequently by skillet to be sure the raw bacon wrinkles are straightened to get equal frying. In 3 minutes he finishes the bacon and drops 2 crispy bacon strips on a plate, atop a 2-egg sunny-side-up and 1 strip on another plate that has 1 fried egg. A mix of green-white lettuce and red tomato, raw and finely cut, takes up a quarter of each plate and a small brown whole-wheat toast with butter the other quarter. Also on the table are cuplets filled one each with of white vinegar and ketchup
   Godfrey takes the plate with the larger portions and puts it by Ali, then places next to it a small-diameter glass of iced orange juice, pours a cup of coffee from nearby Pyrex steaming pot, and adds a small sponge cake tart beside it.
   "How come I get the master portion? I'm the small one."
   "Because my doctor says I have high blood pressure and to go easy on bacon and eggs." He gathers up the cooking materials in a tray. "I'll bring these back and return in a few minutes. Meanwhile enjoy." 
   Alone, Ali finds she is hungrier than she thought to be. Before getting on the train, she felt morning nausea and had poor appetite; but now, suddenly, her appetite is back and no nausea.  Something to do with the train’s moving vibration, she guesses.
   Her Uncle Guy had instilled his atheism in her so no prayer before eats. But he would say, "Eating should be the last thing on your agenda; before starting, first thank the atheist goddess (the term he uses for Nature) for allowing you to be alive, a tingle, aglow in this time of surplus, and also acknowledge with regret the living things that have been destroyed so you may eat them. Do it briefly don't make a show of it, and then enjoy." 
   She does it. Then she starts by first contemplating for several seconds the spread, herself thinking, Go slow. She reaches back into her shoulder bag and pulls out a pair of chopsticks and a small scissors. Her order of eating will be the solids first and fluids last with the idea that the fluids will clean away solid pieces of food from mouth, windpipe and gullet. At the very end will be a glass of water. Before putting any food in mouth she cuts the lettuce, the tomato and the crispy bacon into small pieces for the chopsticks. That is the advantage of chopsticks over fork and knife. Actually if she did not have scissors, she would use the chopsticks by pinching small pieces off larger parts. Once that is done  she eats piece by piece, picking up with chopsticks, dipping lettuce or tomato into vinegar and dipping sunny-side egg piece into ketchup, if she pleases to, and then popping one at a time, bacon too,  into mouth and getting maximum pleasure both in immediate taste and in slowing the eating rate.
   A light knock with "Godfrey here" and she says "Come in" and he does, sits down across from her and starts his breakfast. He makes no comment about her way of eating. They eat silently.
   Brilliant minds think alike, comes to her mind on the coincidence that two seeming strangers on a train should have the same good way of eating.
   To continue next, click 13.7. End of the 20th Century Limited Segment

13.7. End of the 20th Century Limited Segment

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7. End of a Segment

As they eat, the flatland of northern Pennsylvania and soon Ohio flashes by in window view.
   Putting down her empty cup of coffee, Ali asks "May I call you, Godfrey-san?"
   "Yes. What does the san mean."
   "In Japan it is Sir."
   "I'll prefer to address you as Miss."
   "OK. I know you gave me permission to just call you Godfrey but I feel funny being so informal with one I respect as much as I do you."
   Ali starts to talk about her working to make Science-Civilization.
   When she finishes Godfrey says, "I wish you well. I work to make my fellow Negro citizens equals with the whites here, which we are not at the moment. That's why I choose to live with Jane in North Carolina and not to migrate North."

Afterwards, Godfrey clears the table, resets it to half length, and prepares to bring the breakfast materials on a tray back to the porter's place, telling Ali as he leaves she can relax and dress as she wishes because he will stay away talking with the porters until just before the train gets into Chicago, which is now 3 hours away. So saying, he leaves and Ali gets herself together, makes the area neat, closes off the bunk beds and stretches out on the long seat to meditate about new life in Winnipeg.
    Keep reading by clicking 13.8 Segment 2 - Meanwhile Back in the Bronx

13.8 Segment 2 - Meanwhile Back in the Bronx

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8.  Back in the Bronx - Neuropsychology, the Brain-Mind Connection

The scene shifts back to the Bronx, New York, USA. It is 1 July and Doctor Stan as of 30 June has completed 2 years in neurology training residence at the Montefiore Hospital in north central Bronx, New York. The medical training in the 1940s is 4 years medical school; then one-year internship in which the new physician lives in hospital and rotates through medical wards of the different medical and surgical specialties to get a general experience. Afterwards, many doctors open an office but a few, like Dr Stan, go on to 2- or 3-year hospital residency in a specialty. Stan's interest is research into the Brain-Mind connection. He wants a hands-on experience with neurology and psychiatry. So he is starting a research fellowship at the hospital. He combines his Ph.D. research with clinical work - assisting at brain surgery, taking care of bed patients and attending to patients who come to the neurology and psychiatry clinics. The fellowship gives him a small salary and living quarters & food in hospital. Next a look in on him. To read it now, click 13.9 Neurology Rounds

13.9 Neurology Rounds

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9. Starting
First day of hospital training, 1 July, is Sunday. Despite the Sunday, the patients are waiting in the beds to see the doctors on rounds.
   At 8 AM, Dr Stanley Pelc, who likes to be called "Dr Stan", in white shirt with shiny blue tie under the white coat that marks him as senior physician sits at the nurses station on the Neurology ward. Though a research fellow, he is acting chief on Neurology this first month. His new intern is Irving Goldberg, a curly black-haired guy, medium weight and height, in white intern jacket & pants. They sit and Dr Stan gives the intern's duties - the morning rounds at 8, the doing of history & physical examination on new patient and the scut work by which is meant drawing blood samples and IV treatment, inserting catheter in penis in incontinent patient, doing various tests, and other menial intern duties.
   Dr Stan calls his intern, Irving, without first asking if he may, but Goldberg addresses Stan as Sir.
   Stan starts his teaching: "Irving, in getting a history from a patient, keep in mind you are no longer in medical school. If you spend time asking every question from your intern manual, you will never get your scut done. You got to zero in on the chief complaint, make a list of possible diagnoses and figure what signs and symptoms and what physical findings you want to check for. Watch me with this new patient."
   They get up and walk to where an age mid-30's, healthy-looking dark-hair, sallow complexion man is sitting up in bed, looking toward their approach.
   "Hello, Mr DeCico, I am Dr Pelc the resident and this is Dr Goldberg the intern. We'll need your medical history."
   "Sure, guys! I'm willin'."
   "What is your chief complaint that caused you to see your doctor and got you in the hospital?
   "I got da twitches."
   "Twitches?"
   "Yeah, looky here?" He holds out his right hand, palm up and it is obvious - small twitches are going on under the skin at the base of his thumb - about 1 or 2 a minute, causing jerky movements in the skin.
   "How long has it been going on?"
   "Oh, I always get a twitch now an' den but dey weren't so much until a mont' ago.  Now dair all over me."
   "Anything else?"
   "Yeah, No strengt'. Can't even finish a round on da golf course.
   Dr Stan quickly gets a review of the history. Then he thanks the patient, telling him the intern will be back later, and he and Goldberg go and sit down to discuss the case.

   "Now, Irving, I was very brief in my history to show you the importance of zero-ing in immediately on the chief complaint. Everything comes from it. And note how I made sure to explain chief complaint. You got to be sure the patient understands your question the same as you do. Many patients might answer your What is your chief complaint? with I don't got no complaints, Doc, I like it here."
   Goldberg laughs at Dr Stan's mimicking the patient's accent.
   "A patient's words and his meaning are very important. For example, he used Twitches for his chief complaint. In my usual speech Twitches means some kind of involuntary flick of a finger or blink of an eyelid. But this patient was trying to describe in his limited vocabulary what we medically call fasciculations - brief, sudden involuntary contractions of small muscle units under the skin."
   Goldberg suddenly exclaims "ALS! Lou Gehrig's disease!"
   "Good, Irving!" Dr Stan knew from having reviewed Goldberg's application for the internship that Goldberg had been near top in his medical school grades. He thinks, I got a sharp one. Must direct this fellow into Neurology as a next year resident here.
   He continues. "We hit it lucky with this patient. In a word or two, he gave us the diagnosis in his chief complaint. Most of the time you've got to dig for it. Most of the patients will start off with non sequitur - you know, something like Yesterday I had a fight with my wife and she threw me out and I went to a bar and got drunk and that's why I felt bad and saw my doc and ended up a guinea pig for you guys."
   Goldberg laughs out loud. But he realizes he just got a useful tip and is thinking: Boy, this Dr Pelc is sure a gem of a teacher. I think I'm going to like it here.
   So it goes. Quite a first day of internship for Dr Irving Goldberg.  For next, click 13.10 Neurosurgery

13.10 Neurosurgery

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10. Headache

A week after introduction to Neurology, intern Goldberg walks through the swinging doors of the operating suite. The neurology training program wants its intern to get a wide view. So he assists at operations in addition to his usual work.

Dr Goldberg first saw Joe Provenzano 4 days before he saw Joe's bare brain. He asked What is your chief complaint? and got the terse Headache!   Mr Provenzano, a well-put together 30-year-old, points right finger to back of head and makes a face.
   Goldberg's physical exam does not show anything but when he presents the case on rounds, Dr Stan embarrasses him by asking "Did you look in the eyes?" and when Goldberg says No, Dr Stan says "From the chief complaint the important diagnosis is brain tumor. And your deduction should be: If so, he should show a sign of increased brain pressure in the eyes. And you should have examined them? Well, let's do it."
   Dr Stan takes out his eye scope and, with Goldberg, walks to Joe's bed and, after introducing himself and explaining, he bends over the friendly patient, who is lying face up, and looks into the back of the left eye. Finishing, he hands the scope to Goldberg. After a minute, Goldberg exclaims "Papilledema!"and the patient worriedly asks "Whut in hell izzat?" to which Goldberg replies "Just a little swelling."
   Afterwards, Dr Stan says "Irving. I should have told you: Always be aware of your words and actions. But, anyway, you saw the swelling, a sure sign of an expanding tumor inside the skull."
   "Gee, Dr Pelc, I really missed that one, didn't I?"
   "That's why you're an intern, Irving; to learn by missing and having it pointed out. Now you know. What next?"
   "A pneumoencephalogram?”
   "Good, Irving, we - I mean you - will do it tomorrow at 1 PM."
   "Me?  I never did a pneumo before?"
   "Don't worry. I'll be there and the radiologist too."
     
A pneumo is injecting air into the free space in the brain by needle in back of head between the cranial bones. It is scary but harmless. A series of x-rays then show the air in the ventricles - the central brain cavities - and also the air gets into the rim beneath the skull, so it outlines the brain shape externally and the ventricles internally. In Mr Joe Provenzano's case it shows a small brain tumor blocking the 3rd ventricle - and causing back-up of fluid inside the brain and the headaches. Left untreated it would destroy the brain in another month.
   "A tumor of the pineal gland," says Dr Stan after putting the x-ray views up on screen. I'll show it to Leo Davidoff. You will assist him, at the operating table.

That is why intern Goldberg now reports to Chief Nurse Sheila in OR suite. For next, click 13.11 At the Operating Table

     

13.11 At the Operating Table

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11.  The First of Sheila

Intern Goldberg reports to Nurse Sheila and she exclaims,"Goldberg, Oi vey!  Another member of the tribe, ain't it?" with a smile putting him at ease. She is obviously not a member of the tribe; She is Sheila McCabe, a 5-foot, 5-inch, well put together 29-year-old blonde, blue eyed, pug-nose shiksa, the Yiddish for white, christian girl that good Jewish boys are taught to stay away from. At least according to Goldberg's old grandma who had migrated from Bialystok, Czarist Russia 40 years before.

Intern Goldberg had seen bare brain at dissection in medical school. Now he sees it live as assistant to the famous brain surgeon, Leo Davidoff, who in green surgical gown looms opposite him at the operating table with Sheila on Davidoff's left.  
   The owner of the brain and the object of attention, Mr Joseph Provenzano, or, as he prefers, Joe Pro, lies mostly on his left side, facing downward in body oblique position. The rear half of his skull with scalp is unhinged, like the cover of a book turned to page 1, which, here, is surface brain. Goldberg looks down on white wrinkly brain surface, the cerebral cortex, left and right separated by a central cleft from rear to front. 
   But, most remarkable of all, Joe Pro is awake!
   Leo Davidoff is a brain surgeon at the rare level of world-famous Wilder Penfield, and, like Penfield, researches the living brain by stimulating it with probe and asking the conscious patient what each stimulus causes in mind. Such experiment is only done when it can be combined with the healing aim of the operation. And Joe Pro's tumor of the pineal gland, which is causing cerebral fluid block is ideal for it. But it needed Joe's permission and, here, intern Goldberg seemed to prove his worth. As fellow Bronxites and both graduates of DeWitt Clinton High School, Goldberg and Joe got friendly. And Goldberg explained how lucky Joe was to have the world famous Leo Davidoff - Goldberg calls him, the Joe DiMaggio of neurosurgery - operating. Not only his world-beater experience but at no personal fee.
   It gives Goldberg a boost with Davidoff and staff and especially Nurse Sheila but, actually; the credit should go to Joe Pro himself. Though only a poor-grades high school graduate, Joe admires science and particularly, as he likes to say, Jewish Science, which he associates with Albert Einstein. Also, his brain tumor has scared him and he wants to cooperate to get the best. So he signed his permission.
   Arranging for Joe to be awake with brain exposed is not as incredible as it may sound. All the pain feelings in head & brain come from the top 3 nerves in the head & neck. And these can all be blocked by injection into the sensory nerve roots, done by the chief of anesthesia just before Davidoff starts the surgery. 
   It is understood that Joe, except he feels pain or anxiety, will only speak in response to questions, allowing the surgeon to work quickly, un-distracted. Once the anesthetic injections are done, Davidoff has 1 hour to complete the experiment and the surgery.
   Davidoff has briefed his team; and then Goldberg separately briefed Joe, without the worrying details. The research will involve locating the brain's anxiety center by electric probe and then testing out the idea that an implanted surface receiver could transmit magnetic pulses to the anxiety center and temporarily stop feelings of anxiety. First, the pineal gland, which is accessible through the same incision, will have its tumor removed to unblock the free flow of fluid from the core brain ventricles.  
   Now, with rear skull unhinged and brain surface exposed and equipment in place, the surgery starts. The surgical team in addition to Davidoff, Nurse Sheila and Intern Goldberg at the op table, includes a pathologist standing by to examine the tumor and a physicist brought in from Columbia University with his magnetic pulse equipment.  For next, click 13.12 Operating on the Living Brain

13.12 Operating on the Living Brain

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12. The Surgery

  The brain's thalamus is centered in the brain deep to the surface cerebral cortex. In a vertical slice of brain it could be identified as a 4 centimeter (c.1.6 inch) diameter right & left gray matter body deep to the cortex gray matter and attached to the thalamus is its underlying white matter. Microscopically it is thousands of neurons in groups called nuclei with input and output to and from every other part of brain. It works like a switchboard that connects body senses and muscle control with the outside world, and memories and emotions with the cerebral cortex and with consciousness. Within and around right and left thalamus are control centers for feelings and emotions. The one of interest here is for anxiety - in practical terms, fear and worry. Anxiety is the ill-at-ease feeling, a feeling that may get attached to many ideas or to external objects and become a terrible worry about a real event. The anxiety center is just beneath the thalamus; in right-handed persons like Joe Pro, it is on his left side.

First is to expose an approach to the anxiety center for electric probing to locate it; then, paste over it a small silver disc that will transmit magnetic pulses.
   The location is an internal surface, the side wall of the central brain ventricle space. Now, Leo Davidoff, through his operating microscope that has binocular viewing for assistants, starts his surgical approach to un-roofing the ventricle.
   Intern Goldberg observes the action intently as he assists. 
   First, the front-to-rear cleft that separates left and right halves of brain is gently pulled apart and 2 small vises are set to hold it apart without harm. Then, Davidoff deftly does a 2.5 cm (c.1 inch) cut into the floor of the cleft that is roof to the ventricle. He deepens the cut and enters the ventricle. He now directs Goldberg to hold the 2 small surgical vises that pull apart the cut, allowing him to view inside. Now he is positioned to do the experiment because the left inside wall of the ventricle is the inner side of the left thalamus just beneath which he will move his electric probe. 
   It is 3 minutes so far; 3 silent minutes because Davidoff works silently - his assistants - Nurse Sheila and intern Goldberg - follow his finger prompts. Now, he pauses, inspects inside the ventricle-cavity and comments to Goldberg.
   "The pineal gland!" He indicates with probe. "It normally hangs down into the ventricle. But, note, the tumor is a cyst. He points to a plum-like body in rear of the fingertip-size pineal-gland. Goldberg sees it is clear and water-filled. 
   Davidoff says, "It is blocking drainage from the ventricle. There we have the source of Mr Provenzano's headaches - the pressure build-up of fluid."
   Suddenly a new voice - the patient, Joe Pro. "So what you gonna do, Doc?"
   Davidoff, unfazed by the voice of his surgical patient from the operating table, replies, "Mr Provenzano, this is the best news. It is just a water cyst. I shall make it disappear now." With tip of his scalpel he incises the cellophane-thin cyst and like a punctured balloon it collapses, clear fluid ejects, and Davidoff suctions off the fluid; then, with a few quick motions of scalpel and tweezers, he strips off the cyst wall and applies a brief heat to stop any bleeding.
   "Mr Provenzano, you are cured. From now, no more headaches except the usual."
   "T'anks, Doc! You da greatest! And you too Gol'berg! When I get outa here you comin' home wit me and eat my mamma's spaghetti. And, Doc." (Now he is speaking to Davidoff) "Go 'head, expereement. I be a good Guinea but no pig." He laughs at his double meaning.
    To continue, click 13.13 The Experiment

13.13 The Experiment

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13. Experimenting on the Brain

Dr Davidoff is stimulating surface points over the left thalamus through the tip of a small electric probe. With each electric stimulus he asks "What comes to your mind now, Mr Provenzano?" So far, Joe Pro has replied with a laugh. Now, however, "Oh! Oh! Oh! Doc! I feels lousy!"
   "About what, Mr Provenzano?"
  "I dunno! Jeez! Everything!  My head feels fulla shit - uh, 'scuse me, Miss Nurse. I jez feel like enda da world, like everyt'ing bad, like hell. "
   "That is from your anxiety center."
   "Now it go away. Thanks, Doc. Never wanna feel that again."
   Davidoff, indicates to the physicist standing by the table to move his magnet close and connect its output to the probe. And he takes the very small magnetic transmitter disc on his operating tray that Nurse McCabe has already put a smudge of glue on and with forceps adheres it to the point over the left thalamus where he has located the anxiety center.
   Before operation he explained to his assistants that magnetic stimulation gives an opposite effect from electric stimulation, an effect that inhibits. The experiment is what is called pathfinder - a test of a future system. It would be placing a small magnetic transmitter over the anxiety center and activating it by magnetic pulse so that free-floating anxiety could be blanked out. It could have several uses. First for mental disorders with high anxiety - like paranoid, hypochondriac, phobic. These patients could have anxiety minimized. But beyond is the idea of its use in normal persons. Even a temporary removal of anxiety could prove a boon to creative thinking because creativity and needed memory function are stopped up, blocked by the constant anxieties of normal life - worries you will get sick, become poor, have an accident. Davidoff envisions a future where humans might become super thinkers by having anti-anxiety implants activated at intervals. 
   He takes the magnetic probe and touches it to the disc over Joe Pro's anxiety center and signals the physicist to turn on the magnetic pulses.

Less than a minute passes.  Davidoff asks, "Mr Provenzano, what is in your mind?"
   Joe's voice is quiet; then: "Clear, Doc, real clear. Gee, it never been so clear in my head. Gee, why couldn't I a thought like this before? Why am I just a dumb Guinea? Why ain't I, like Gol'berg here, a smart Jew? An', boy! My mem'ry. What a mem'ry! Never had it like this before! I 'member ever' word I heard dis morning! My head clear a all da junk it used t'have, all da worries 'bout stupid stuff. Now I see what I gotta do. Geese, Doc! Can ya keep me t'inkin' like dis, always?"  
   Davidoff answers. "No, Joe. We need our anxieties to protect us from the dangers of living. But your experiment is going to help people get better at thinking by turning off anxieties temporarily. And I am guessing this experience is going to help you because even temporarily thinking as you are now is going to show good effects from now and will affect your life well in future."
   "Doc, I'll do da expereement again any time."

The effect of this experience on intern Goldberg starts an idea: to be a world-beater like Leo Davidoff. But even more profound changes take place inside the patient and subject of the experiment; namely, Mr Joe Pro.
    For next, click 13.14 Davidoff's Saturday Ward Rounds

13.14 Davidoff's Saturday Ward Rounds

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14. Saturday

Three days after Joe Pro's surgery; a Saturday, and Dr Davidoff does his weekly morning rounds.
   Leo Davidoff is too famous to attend to usual duties so he delegates Stan his senior fellow to run things. But he shows up Saturday at 8 AM. Except for the chance to scrub in with him at brain operations, the Saturday morning rounds are the only times that intern Goldberg gets the favor & flavor of the great Leo. (As Davidoff is called behind his back)  
   Saturday is holy day for orthodox Jews, and Montefiore is a Jewish charitable hospital but, as Goldberg knows from his own home, almost all Jews, except a fanatic fringe, separate medical care from religion.
   Now, on the hot mid July morning with all fans blowing at 8 AM before the nurses station, Dr Stan and Goldberg await Davidoff's coming. Stan quickly says. "Irving, I appreciated your work with Joe Pro. From now on: No more Sir or Dr Pelc. Just, Stan." 

The phone rings. 
Stan says, "He's coming. Get ready."

Leo Davidoff himself rounds the corner; beside him is his young middle-aged secretary, Miss Prissy, carrying a battered black briefcase and followed by Nurse Sheila. It is not the Army but Stan and Goldberg seem to stand a little taller. "Good morning, Sir." The chief officer alone greets Davidoff who nods and briskly heads for the beds. 
  The doctors rounds in hospitals are standard. It could be the routine daily where each patient's case is reviewed with chart rack and nurses attending, or the chief's, like now. Each bed is stopped at, the junior officer recites the case and its progress, and the senior or chief comments or suggests or quizzes.
   Joe Pro is sitting up with head encased in what looks like a football helmet. He addresses Davidoff and waves at the others with right hand. "Mornin' Doc. How'm I doin'?"
   Goldberg knows that no one normally speaks directly to Davidoff, and a preliminary Sir is not just de rigueur; it has something to do with Davidoff himself. Looking at Davidoff one is impressed by an overall neatness. His combed-back, slightly oiled black hair (Nurse Sheila adds "and dyed") and the mid brow pointed hairline with its central parting sets off a quiet face with unobtrusive nose, a well-groomed thin (Nurse Sheila adds "and waxed") mustache, and ascetic looking lips. He is in conservative light summer suit under white doctor coat signifying his status. Quiet is the word for Davidoff's look and it inspires a quietness in others. No one makes small talk with him. But an exception: patients he has operated like Joe Pro are allowed privileges.
   "Mr Provenzano. I have gone over your chart and reviewed the pathological specimen so I can answer exactly. You are doing fine."
   "When can I get outa here?"
   Davidoff surprises Goldberg by turning to him. "You are in charge of the case, Dr Goldberg?"
   Thinking quickly, Goldberg says, "If tomorrow's skull x-ray is OK, he could be discharged with a weekly clinic visit, Sir."
   "Make a note, Miss McCabe." Davidoff says signifying approval.
   Joe turns to Goldberg. "T'anks fella! T'anks a million." Then waving his arm "T'anks all a yo from Joe Pro."
                             
At 9 AM the rounds end. Davidoff is a stickler for exactness. Time for Saturday conference and the group goes into the room inside the nurse station. Goldberg is surprised to see the physicist who'd assisted the surgery sitting at the head of the long, oval, shiny mahogany table. After they all are seated, Davidoff, standing beside the physicist, says; "Robert, I want you to give my staff a summary of the future of magnetic pulsing in neurology. It is cutting edge. You young minds need it. Now I have to go. See you all next week." His prissy secretary follows him out the door and closes it quietly.
   Robert then tells them that magnetic pulses therapy is one of the many discoveries of the brilliant Serbian physicist Tesla. He reminds his listeners that magnetic fields are a form of electromagnetic waves that run at right angles to electric waves. In contrast to electricity, magnetism does not directly interact with the body tissue but it affects brain function by reversing the electric potentials of neurons. As the doctors had seen in the case of Mr Provenzano, magnetic pulses are capable of inhibiting anxiety in a way that does not damage the brain. He and Dr Davidoff are now researching the application of magnetic pulsings through skull as treatment of conditions like schizophrenia, mania, severe depression, obsessive-compulsion. The research is just beginning - but even if the effects are mild; still, if compared to electroshock therapy, it is harmless, and that makes it worthwhile giving the good college try.
   Goldberg likes "good college try." He decides he will ask Stan to speak to Davidoff and see if he can help in the research. It is a fruitful hour.
   As the others file out, Nurse Sheila, taps Goldberg on shoulder. "Irving!  I hope you excuse the familiarity but you may call me Sheila. Are you doing anything, tomorrow? Ain't it your day off? We can meet in front of my nurses residence 7 AM?"
   They are alone. Goldberg, who comes from a religious Jewish background, is not used to attractive 29-year-old blonde shiksas making passes. But he instantly decides - I think I'm going to like her here. So he says Yes. And Sheila turns and leaves immediately, thinking, With a Jewish boy, stop while he's still in sight.
   To read the Sunday date next chapter, click 13.15 Sunday with Sheila

13.15 Sunday with Sheila

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15. Sunday

Seven AM is early but Goldberg considers it part of dating a nurse. He dresses in summer seersucker - a light-weight suit & pants with thin blue stripes on a white cotton background.

Sheila is standing at entrance of her red brick 6-story building on a quiet street near the hospital. "Irving, you are handsomer in that seersucker than in a scrub suit!" she comments as they meet.
   He realizes he has dressed too formally because she wears a white rayon blouse tucked in at her waist under a summer green cotton skirt with hem midway down from knees; and strap sandals without stockings. Her bare low neck front shows a silver cross on chain. He does not exactly think the words, because he is good mannered but something like After all, she is such an obvious shiksa; why announce it with the cross?
   "Irving!  I hope you didn't have breakfast because I'd like us to take some breakfast outside after church."
   This time he thinks the words exactly After church?
   Seeing his look, she says, "Don't worry, guy! I'm not trying to convert you. I'm willing to go to synagogue with you Saturday."
   "Oh, Miss McCabe! No! No! I don't mind. Wherever you take me is alright."
   "What's with Miss McCabe? From now, Sheila and Irving like Tarzan and Jane, OK?"

Sheila's church is St Anne's Roman Catholic. They walk along shady Wayne Avenue, named for Revolutionary War General Mad Anthony Wayne, then cross the east-west Gun Hill Road, so named because General George Washington bombarded the British from high up the Hill in 1780. They turn left, walking one block up to Bainbridge Ave, where used to be a Bronx River bridge owned by a Mr Bain.
  The church - old red brick and 2-story with steeple, and now with big white front doors open and several persons entering - is well known in this formerly lace-curtain Irish neighborhood since invaded and occupied by the Jews.

"Sit back here so we can get out early," Sheila indicates sitting in last row and patting the bench seat to her left on the aisle. 
   Though of a religious family with father born in Lithuania, Irving Goldberg has only gone through the motions of being a religious Jew. He was bar mitzvah'd at 13, attends synagogue on high holy days and eats kosher from his mother's table. He never discusses religion and certainly would deny being atheist but, practically, he is. It explains his dating a shiksa and going to her church. He is not against being a Jew, not rebounding; he just does not care about religion.

The black clothed priest up front is saying something in Latin, and Sheila has bowed her head and shoulders and is moving lips to his words. Now a nun in black-habit comes down the aisle with a flat open container for donations and Sheila whispers more to herself than to Goldberg
"Gee! What is the sister doing, collecting?" And then as if in explanation: "Well, it is Sister Barbara!"
   As the Sister stops by the two, Goldberg hurriedly pulls out the only cash in his pockets, a 20-dollar bill with the 6th U.S. President, Andrew Jackson's face, and Sheila whispers, "Not that one, Irving; here, my George Washington will do!" She drops in her 1-dollar bill and Sister Barbara smiles whispering in heavy Irish brogue "The Lorrd'll thank yee, and me old mither in Eire, too", and moves forward on the aisle.

A few minutes later as they leave, Goldberg sees Stan Pelc with a young woman.
Sheila says as they meet, "Hello, Dr Pelc. Good to see you in church." Turning to the girl she says "And Bren!  I didn't know you and Dr Pelc ...?" Then she looks toward Goldberg "I don't think you two have met. This is Irving Goldberg; he works with Dr Pelc." And to Irving.  "Brenda Bordon, or as she likes to say when she acts snooty Bordeaux."  Brenda laughs, they shake hands and she says"Hey! Have you two eaten? If No, let's go, to Greasy Spoon on Jerome."
   "Just what I am thinking, Bren'," says Sheila."OK, with you, Irving?"
   Goldberg nods, embarrassed at the use of his first name by the chief nurse in front of his senior officerSheila switches subject, "Bren! Did you see Sister Barbara collecting and hear her giving the Lord's thank you followed by her Old Mither's in Eire? Isn't that weird? A nun doing the collection? I wonder what the split is between the Lord and Sister's old mother?"
   Brenda and Stan join Sheila in a loud laugh but Goldberg feels embarrassed.

Ten minutes later they are at Greasy Spoon, which is Brenda's name for The Jerome Cafeteria. To continue, click 13.16 Bronx Cafeteria

13.16 Bronx Cafeteria

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16. The Cafeteria

The Cafeteria is on the southwest corner of the crossing that Gun Hill Road makes with the north-south, elevated train-track Jerome AvenueThe cafeteria is small, a corner storefront with booths by the plate-glass street window for diners to sit and eat while looking out and being looked in at by passers-by. And the corner booth is choice. The food counter is on a line you enter as you walk in, after pulling a ticket. Then you move along the counter and the food you select is noted by the white-apron cook & owner, Mr Abraham Feinstein, better known as Abie, who clips your ticket for each dish and at the end, his wife Goldie adds it up and you pay.
   Brenda turns to her 3 friends. "Hey, Gang, I want to try an idea called Communist Spread.  Instead of each getting his own we get one spread that includes what each likes, and each eats from the spread according to how you feel?"
   "I'm not a communist," Sheila says. "But it sounds a good way not to overeat." She pats her not slim waist.
   Irving Goldberg, who does not care about politics but from his Lithuanian-born father knows about Karl Marx, gives in to a rare showing-off. "That is the communist idea from Marx and Engels, From each according to ability and to each according to need. I am no Marxist; however, I'm here with Miss McCabe so I'll do as she likes."
   Sheila feels a sudden happiness at this, thinking, Hey, I got Irving to follow my lead. Then she thinks, Why am I so happy?  I must have it bad!
   Stan says, "I am a scientist; I'm willing to experiment."
   So it is decided. Brenda turns to Abie who is patiently waiting for the order because this early, on Sunday, these are his only customers. After getting everyone's suggestions, Brenda tells Abie to put on the fryer: 4 bacon strips, a ball of corn-beef hash, 4 small sausages; 4 sunny-side-up eggs, a cup-serving of hashed potatoes and a ball of cooked rice mixed with corn kernels. "Fry 'em up nice and with the bacon real crispy, and put 'em at the center of your biggest plate." Brenda makes about 18 inches wide with her hands to show the plate's diameter. "And do it on the plate with the Chinese scene - you know the blue one with the lovers escaping over the bridge and the evil father behind. And on the outer part of the plate put fresh lettuce, sliced tomato, strawberries and blackberries. And cover the berries with sour cream and drop a little honey on the cream."
   Abie has got out pencil and paper. He says. "Yeah, sure!  Now mein boychiks and girlchikslemmee clip you' tickets, denn go to mein Goldie at the money machine and pay and denn sit in dat corner boot' "
   They pay and go and sit, Sheila by the glass that fronts Gun Hill Road with Irving Goldberg inside on her left, both with backs to Gun Hill Road, and he, to his left at right angle beside Stan who sits next to Brenda, on her right, both their backs to the Jerome Avenue side.
   Abie asks from behind his counter "Ya vants tea vile ya vaits'?  I got goot Liptons."
   "Yeah, Abie", Brenda says. "And also, Abie,  remember the Chinese chopsticks I asked you to get from Chung Fu's Chop Suey next door? " 
   "Sure, I got a lot."
   "Bring four sets to the table with the Lipton's."

They sit in the black leather booth at the not-spotlessly clean corner table sipping the tea that has wedge-lemon squeezes and Brenda goes on about chopsticks. "Now, the reason for chopsticks is they allow you to eat the smallest bit at a time." She picks up hers and shows using them with one stick moved by thumb & forefinger while the other is firmed against inner side of middle finger about a third of the way from the eating end, and she picks up a very small bit of lemon wedge from the tablecloth. "You see, with the chopsticks you can pick out a real small piece; and you can also use the sticks for little pieces of crispy bacon or fried sausage. When you use a knife and fork it's not so easy to eat small bits. And it makes a difference. With chopsticks you can take more time and enjoy the eating longer."
   Sheila, thinking of her battle for a slim waist, adds, "The longer it takes me to eat and the less I put in my mouth in a minute, the less my waist. So I'm for that."

Abie has been cooking up a mix of smells and sounds. It takes him 10 or so minutes to prepare the communist spread on the 18-inch blue plate with the Chinese scene. Goldie brings it and puts it down on the table between the two couples so every one according to ability can take according to need, and without being too speedy. Also she puts 4 small plates in front of each diner to prevent a mess.
   Irving Goldberg, most of all, appreciates the moment the spread is put on the table. The fragrant bacon now crisp, brown and black at edges; the reddish hash with white potato flecks and its appetizing smell; the sausages ready to pop juicily in mouth; the sunny-side fried eggs whose nicely hot yellow yolks he can almost taste 
   So, what is a boy - a young intern - from a religious Jewish family doing in a mind like his? It is a case by case case, and Irving Goldberg's case is a family whose father is not a fanatic orthodox but just a Lithuanian Jew who brought his family up American, and Irving is his good son with no religion inside but respect for the outer part. So, whenever he can, he eats bacon and everything that goes with it. Now he picks up his chopsticks.
   Brenda, who assumes control because she suggested the communist spread, says. "I guess we may have different ideas. I'm a Catholic maybe not a good one."  
   "Me too!" chimes in, Sheila. "I try to be as good as me old mither who's not from Eire, she adds jokingly.
   Brenda continues. "Stan I know was born Catholic but he's a scientist. And Irving's a scientist too. Well, what I'm trying to say is we are all four of us the coming generation and we want to make our own ways and I think we should just have a minute of quiet and thank our luck to be alive and healthy and young right now." She falls quiet not bowing her head but turning to Stan and grabbing his right hand with her left. And Sheila turns to Irving Goldberg and takes his left hand in her right and fixes him with her look of love.

The minute ends. And without further words all four friends fall to the eating.

About 20 minutes later, Irving Goldberg puts down his chopsticks, the last to finish but not by much. They are all pleasantly full and did not even eat it all. Brenda asks Abie to doggie-bag the the uneaten part. Then they finish cups of tea and Brenda says "OK, I think we need a little quiet time, each two of us." She looks at Stan and then at Sheila & Irving. "Let's go over to the nearby flats to relax. I guess you have your own plans but it's still early, and my stomach and, I guess, yours is too full to do anything active."
   Brenda puts a 25 cents quarter down on the table as a tip for the good service; then, they walk to the nearby apartment house.
 For next, click 13.17 Sunday Continues

13.17 Sunday Continues

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17. At Flat 1A

Brenda, holding Stan's hand, leads Sheila & Irving, and they walk south along the west-side Jerome Ave, by its rusting, gray-paint peeling elevated train legs and the every-10-minute rumble of its overhead subway train to their left, and, to their right, the bustling shopping stores. It is a long block - a 3-minute walk to West Mosholu Parkway North - the "West" because it is on the west side Jerome Ave, which is the east-west divider in the Bronx, and the North because it is the north border of Mosholu Parkway - the wide, grassy west-east bed of a dried-up, long ago east-flowing river that emptied into the Bronx River to the east and now is a pleasant green place for people to sit on benches.  

Ali's old apartment, 1A and the late Dan's 2A are kept on Ali's instructions under the old leases. Brenda & Stan use 2A, and 1A is neat, just as Ali left it. After telling Sheila to relax with Irving in 1A and even to take a bath or shower if either of them wishes, and also saying they can look at or use anything they desire, Brenda gives the parting words, "When you go, just press in the lower-knob lock button in the front edge of the door. OK. Toodle Loo." (To Sheila) "Don't do anything I would." (And with smile) "But if you do, use protection." and then she closes the outer door and joins Stan in upstairs 2A.

Sheila takes control of a situation that obviously embarrasses Irving. The apartment is summer-warm so she helps him off with his jacket and hangs it in hall closet and, beckoning him to follow, goes straight ahead into Ali's living room that has the tatami floor. "Ooh! What's this?"
   "A Japanese fiber floor", says Dr Fact Irving.
   "First thing is to get a little air circulating," She pulls up each of the two sash windows that give a view of Parkway and turns on a fan by the window to blow air comfortably onto the sofa along the west wall. She sits Irving there and sits down beside him on his left giving him the window view.
   Irving is unsure of himself beside this very vital woman. He's had a lot of time to look her over and what he sees is a naturally dark blonde whose hair is cut to shoulders, whose big blue eyes penetrate to his Jewish consciousness, whose straight small nose contrasts with his larger down-curving one and whose definite lips do not need the lipstick to announce what they are for. And at the base of her neck in front, is that damned, damning cross. She has a solid body - wide shoulders, firm not overly large breasts under her rayon blouse and the brassiere, and a waist she alludes to frequently as needing watching. She gives off a slight fragrance - not perfume, just the daily shower and toilette, he guesses.
   He is sitting closer than he ever sat to a woman. Irving is not a virgin but he is not very far from one. His only experience was the prostitute he calls Rosie because that is her telephone name. Last year, after a decade of masturbation only, he decided to experience sexual intercourse and confided in his Uncle Jack Panzer, the only family member he trusts to keep a secret. After hearing Irving's complaint, Jack said "You need Rosie", and scribbled a phone number. That evening he called.
   "Is this Rosie?" 
   "Yeah."
   "Can I make a date?"
   "Who gave ya my numbah?"
   "Jack."
   "Well, I an't no Jill but Jack's OK. Tomorra at five. Come to 612 Fox Street, ya walk up five flights and just wait top a the stairs. A door'll open and a guy come out and you next. Did Jack tell ya the deal?"
   "Yes." (Jack had said it is 5 dollars and to hand it to Rosie  in cash)
  "OK. See ya."
   Next day he comes direct from his last class. Fox Street is in a Puerto Rican neighborhood in south Bronx, and building number 612, an old brownstone walk up. At the top on the 5th flight he waits. It is at the end of a dingy corridor with a door facing the stairs. He looks at his wristwatch. 5 PM. Just then the door opens and a squat working man leaves and walks rapidly by him and down the stairs. Irving walks to the door which is not closed but not open enough to see. He knocks. 
   "Come in." 
   He sees a pasty-face, black-hair, Slavic-looking middle-aged woman in a plaid house dress. "Rosie?"
   "Yeah, You the kid who called yesterday?"
   "Yes."
   "Gimmee your five and close the door."
   He hands over the money and she says. "OK, kid, take off your clothes and let's go to it. Got a condom?"
   "I didn't know I needed ....?"
   "Whuddaya think, I'm sellin' condoms? Look kid! No tickee, no washee." Seeing his sudden unhappiness, and fingering the 5 dollars in her pocket, she says "OK, we go French. Get outa those clothes and lay down here. "She pats the bed.
   Sheepishly he follows instructions and experiences his first oral sex, which turns out the best orgasm he'd ever had before or since. From then on he visits Rosie once a month with condom but he sometimes prefers the oral. She only did one or the other for the 5 dollars.
   That is it with sex for Irving. Now he is at a loss what to do with this nice girl sitting almost touching.

Sheila is virgin. Most nurses in 1940's Bronx are not virgin but Sheila had a very strict Irish Roman Catholic upbringing that taught that sex outside marriage is serious sin. The cross she wears on her neck was given to her on graduation from the Catholic parochial high school by Sister Marion, her favorite nun, who told her - "This cross is the eye of God. Always wear it in front."
   At 29, Sheila is suffering the fate of Irish nurses in Jewish hospitals. The doctors want sex without the ceremony. Now she met Irving and she feels maternal and sexual toward the awkwardly shy guy - to her, his age 25 is almost robbing the cradle. She knows about sex from being a nurse and fending off the doctors on dates in dark corridors. But she is hesitant how to begin. 

So they sit on the sofa, silent, almost touching. She is thinking: What's wrong with me? Why doesn't he kiss me? Scanning the possibilities, she is aware of the cross in front on her neck and it brings to mind Sister Marion's words This cross is the eye of God. Always wear it in front. And she recalls the look on Irving's face when they met in front of her building this morning and his eyes connected with her cross. In the silence she reaches up and pulls her necklace chain so that the cross is positioned behind her back under the collar of her blouse no longer between her and Irving, no longer able to be the eye of God. She turns to Irving, the cross no longer between them and says "See, I've come halfway. How about you?" and in an instant he's got her in his arms, their lips pressing and she is thinking He's for me.
 Continue next, click 13.18 Follow Your Genie

13.18 Follow Your Genie

Slim Novel 13 - http://adventuresofkimi.blogspot.com - See Homepage

18.  Guy and Gal

Irving and Sheila become guy and gal. She considers him, socially, her gentleman dope, shy and backward; a balance, she thinks, to his mental brilliance. 
   It is necessary to keep their relationship unobvious and the Apartment 1A is ideal. She tells Brenda how bad she's got it for the boy and Brenda says "Use 1A."
   Irving has hospital intern's quarters, a bed & desk. Once a month, he visits father & mother out in their Great Neck Long Island Georgian architectural mansion with 2 servants. Mostly, Sheila keeps house for him in 1A.
   She is still virgin but Irving, discontinuing Rosie, works to end it. Sheila would love to give Irving everything but one thing stops her. She fears getting pregnant because she knows Irving's future is with a good Jewish girl and, for Sheila, abortion is not an option so she will not trust a condom and relies on heavy petting to keep Irving satisfied but guesses their sexual life will need to evolve.
   She is Irving's genie: she sees his goal - to be great - even if he does not, and she sees what will get in its way like marriage to an older shiksa nurse who is running to fat - Herself.
  Now click 13.19 Concentrating on Flat 1A

13.19 Concentrating on Flat 1A

Slim Novel 13 - http://adventuresofkimi.blogspot.com - See Homepage

19. Flat 1A
Entering 1A by its front door after walking up from lobby, you are in the flat's hallway that by a pull of overhead chain gets brightly lit from its 100-watt ceiling light and pleasantly surprises by its newly laid green carpet. All of old Dan's previous magazines & books have been removed, leaving the hall bare, but on your left after entering is a small table and oval mirror on wall that Sheila uses to get a look at her face before opening the door to greet Irving.
   Entering deeper into the hallway on your right is the kitchen. It has a black nonslip oil cloth - later called vinyl flooring. - for easy cleaning. The kitchen has an oven with top gas-range & dish-cleaning counter, a 1938 white Frigidaire, and a small table with 3 chairs.
   Going back into the hallway, at its far end is a French door with 6 glass panes that the dividers make into 3 rows of 2 each. Opening the French door you enter into a living room that surprises by its straw color Japanese tatami floor that gives a fresh fragrance and prevents harm from falls. To your right against the west wall is a brown, cloth-covered sofa you could sink into comfortably, and you may imagine Sheila & Irving embracing and kissing on it. On your left, against the opposite east wall is a settee that can be made into a bed. On the far wall, 2 windows face south over the Parkway, and the window on left opens to a metal-grill, faded brown painted fire escape. By the window is a floor-to-ceiling steam-heated pipe and next to it a bellows-like room-warming radiator—-both painted silvery white—-, which wake Sheila on winter mornings with knocking sounds, and the steam heat soothes her body. Next to the settee is a night table with portable phonograph which she can turn on with reach of her right hand shortly after waking and listen to Enrico Caruso's Norma to soothe her Roman Catholic soul.
   By the southwest window in far corner, to your right on entering, is a 1-meter (c. 3-foot) square black leather-top bridge-table with a chair Sheila calls Irving's chair that gives a window view and, to its left, around table corner, Sheila's chair.
   The bathroom is down the hallway from the outer entrance hall.
   There is more to the flat—-Ali left junk—- and everything is usable, as Sheila finds out. 
   To continue, click 13.20 Scenes From a Relationship

13.20 Scenes From a Relationship

Slim Novel 13 - http://adventuresofkimi.blogspot.com - See Homepage

20. Sex - To Be or Not?  Or What?

As implied previously, Sheila's relationship with Irving is as keeper of the flame as his future-discerning genie; it is one-sided but she is not blind-sided. Immediately she is thinking What will bind him to me? And being a nurse, she thinks, I got to satisfy his sexual desire, to become his outlet.
   She does not know about Rosie, but what she is contemplating will take Rosie's place.
   One problem is her fear of getting pregnant and her not trusting a condom. So she starts with heavy petting. 

One evening in 1A on the sofa they sit together, Sheila on his left, the ceiling light on and she in blouse & skirt with stockings and no shoes. Irving is in white shirt and slacks with socks only. They have been listening to Eddie Cantor on the Wednesday night radio show
      I loved to spend this Wednesday with you
   As friend to friend, now Wednesday is thru ...
Sheila gets up turns off the radio, flicks down the room's switch and all goes dark.
   "What did you do that for?" Irving asks as she sits down against him.
   "Irving, what do you really think of us? I mean me? Am I just another girl to do that with?" A silence. "So say?"
   She is crushed to him by his left arm that had been draped over her shoulder on the sofa back, and his right arm brings her breasts tight against his chest and her lips are pressed by his. She is thinking: He's so inexperienced, doesn't even know soul kissing. And after some seconds she adds: Thank God!
   Their lips separate and she embraces his head so her left cheek is against his and she feels his hand now under her dress moving up. 
   "No! No! Don't rush!" She clamps thighs together.
   "Oh, darling!" 
    He calls me darling! She pulls his hand away and says, "I love you, guy! Be patient. When a girl like me says I love you, it means I give you - and I mean it. But don't rush."
   She puts her left hand on the front of his pants and feels a hard pulsing penis. Quickly she unbuttons him and grasps. He certainly is a Jewish boy, she thinks. Separating her cheek from his she turns her head slightly and they kiss just touching, not pressing and her left hand slowly pulls his part back and forth, back and forth, saying "Irving I'll love you, I'll be your woman. Dear! Dear! Dearest!"
   Knowing what is about to come, using her right hand she pulls her blouse out of her waistband and uses its edge to protect his clothing from the wetness.
   "Oh! Oh! Oh!" It is Irving. Now, she thinks, I've satisfied him for the moment. But how long will this be all he gets?
 Continue next, click 13.21 Scenes From .a Relationship 2