Schweissfuss Rebuffed

 Schlumping a pile of books, trinkets and a very good cashmere twinset, she barged into Mrs.McGillicuddy’s always-open front door and wrenched aside the flimsy opening to my makeshift study. Shocked, I turned just in time to receive the full brunt of the load aimed at my head. Every gift I’d given her including the ruby ring without the stone.

“.......... Don’t try to contact me ever again” she snapped.

.............Don’t worry, I won’t” yelling as she left in high dudgeon. ●

But I didn’t mean a word. She was Rosie, my fiancee and I adored her.

++++

Hans and Moshe my roommates were moving to Chicago for a job upgrade. Not being able to afford the apartment on my own and Rosie didn’t think we were yet ready for marriage,I had to move to something cheaper.

Albert Fahrt clearly needed help. I owed that guy such a lot, and felt obligated to be there for him. I took his name in a moment of youthful bravado, masquerading as Albert Schweissfuss at Ellis Island and passing through Immigration to a new and bright future.

Little did I know how fleeting are the streams of good luck. Nor how quickly they can evaporate .

All immigrants have to work hard in the beginning, specially non English speakers. Fahrt took extra night classes and a daytime job as security guard. The uniform was ill fitting and the heavy shoes were so wide his feet looked cartoonish.

Monotonous and grim his duties were standing for hours at a steel door to prevent unauthorized personnel from entering or walking around and around ugly factory buildings looking for anything suspicious.

It wasn’t enough practice for his English, the thing that was holding him back. As much as I was working hard myself at studying law, I tried to help telling jokes. Having to explain the punch line to a German got tedious. The best way, and I recommend this method, was the films. Not too pricey, we’d have a great time afterward discussing the plot, the movie stars, Fahrt especially loved the organ. He was delighted with his progress and I was even happier.

++++

Comfortable and cheap with ensuite facilities stated the newspaper advert of Mrs. McGillicuddy’s attic in Bay Ridge Brooklyn

It was one room with curtained toilet and shower. Kitchen facilities was a two burner hot plate. Two futons separated by a dresser completed the rest of the furnishings. The futon was too short for Fahrt. He complained nightly and loudly of the cold as his big bare feet splayed out from the bottom of the bed. I often wondered if his blood by the time it reached his extremities was underperforming. It did have a long way to travel.

 Munrospun, my employer, was underwriting my night school classes. I was enrolled in law school with the intention and guarantee I would work to repay the debt. Generosity and opportunities were many for immigrants. Understandably this was a two way street. Fahrt and I both forged lasting friendships at work and never forgot to extend a hand to other newcomers.

A cramped space under the stairs on the first floor became my study.A recent neighborhood garage sale produced a well used ink stained pine table, chair, a gooseneck lamp with a long cord snaking out into the hall to the nearest wall socket, and a three tier metal book shelf. All for four dollars, three fifty if the seller didn’t have to deliver. A refuge for quiet study it even had a flimsy door which partially closed due to the electrical cord.

++++

Fahrt’s arrival home minutes after Rosie’s departure was timely. We both went to the corner bar and got soused. Trying to cheer my misery, Fahrt began to tell jokes.

“ what lies between fear and sex? Funf

It was the way he doubled over in mirth that I found funny. As we staggered a little, only yards from home, I asked him for the title of the shortest book ever written:

”Two hundred years of German humor”.

He didn’t flinch. However on seeing the soft wool twin set his face lit up.

Too drunk to care, I nodded motioning to take it. He slept peacefully from then on with his big flippers encased in expensive cashmere bed socks.

Aqua to match her eyes, I was forever tormented by the sight. Instead of draping Rosie’s magnificent bosom they were crowning the big lug’s ample feet.

:::::::

The first signs my lucky streak was beginning to blow was the time Fahrt decided we should go to Germantown to partake of something called gemuetlich.

Handkase mit musik was the chalkboard speciality, washed down with apfelwein. I can’t say it was as tasty as corned beef, cabbage and a pint of Guinness but he was happy with my faked delight. Ordering a second helping Fahrt looked enquiringly at me.

Declining with a rueful grin, patting my tummy “Nein Danke ich bin full,”I lied.

Meeting Rosie afterward we went to the moving pictures to see Gone With The Wind

For some time Rosie had been chilly towards me. I sensed it and couldn’t understand. At the funeral I caught the suspicious glances of her Aunts who were steering her towards a toff. A debonair Harvard boy. I was no match for a Boston Brahmin

“Faint heart never won fair lady”

Yes, I hear you, but it’s only an empty saying .

Rosie’s dad had died suddenly and she inherited a tidy nest egg. Her mother had died much earlier. She was a Catholic as was Rosie. Her dad was a lifelong agnostic.

Accompanying Rosie to the funeral parlor was a big mistake. The place felt claustrophobic with a pervading smell of

lemon scented beeswax and woodbine cigarettes. The banality of the service annoyed me. A place where no one uttered the word die. Evidently they bury you when you fall asleep.

 Some poncey fellow asked if I didn’t agree the speaker was so beautiful in his remembrances: ......

“well I never heard so many words spewing from so little thought”. Rosie heard me.

That was when the earth shook. Stomping out with me following like a scolded puppy, she turned ,her eyes quite cold:

..”......I’ll have to think things over Albert” she usually called me Al. Then she strode off into the crowded street.

The slow walk home was the worst I had ever felt, even at my lowest on the immigrant ship. I had never imagined I could feel such lighthearted joy as when I first met Rosie. My run of good luck was spent and dragging me down were the ashes of my dreams.

:::;;

Two years later Albert Fahrt was speaking English well enough to get hired at a busy sports shop catering to outsize men. He was perfectly placed and had turned in his security guard badge and uniform for ever. We moved from Brooklyn .

Fahrt and Weiss, the names were stenciled on our joint mailbox in a trendy midtown Manhattan apartment building. We gave them a polish with the sleeves of our fashionable summer weight linen blazers as we sauntered out into a bright early evening on the town

Do I think of Rosie? Is there a chance we might reconcile? Who knows? Do I still care for her. Of course and that will never change.