the seventy-five cents his grandmother had given him was burning a hole in pete’s pocket as he stood on the sidewalk.
it was a nice day. “too nice” to spend it in a movie theater, but where else was he going to go?
but first, there was the little business of “looking for a job”.
pete had found the perfect place to “look for a job”. a little market - mike’s market - four blocks from his grandmother’s apartment. it didn’t seem to do much business, and was pretty much a one-man operation. the owner, whom pete assumed was mike, was always there. sometimes in the afternoon there was a teenage boy, a nephew or cousin of the owner, helping out.
pete had asked a couple of times if the guy was hiring, and was told to forget it. when pete asked if he knew anybody else who was hiring, mike told him he was “just off the boat” and did not know anybody in america, although he did not speak with any kind of foreign accent.
now pete decided to try a third time. the second time mike had seemed a little annoyed, but this time he just laughed.
“you again!”
“i don’t suppose you changed your mind about hiring?” pete asked.
“no, my good man, I did not.”
pete looked around the little store, which was empty of customers. the store sold mostly fruit and vegetables, but had cigarettes behind the counter and candy bars in front of the counter and an old fashioned ice chest with coke and pepsi and other sodas.
“i didn’t see any harm in asking.” pete said.
“how about any harm in buying something?” mike asked him.
“i don’t have any money. that’s why i’m looking for a job,” pete answered quickly.
“come on, you don’t have a nickel for a candy bar? how about a nice turkish taffy?” mike pointed to the display of candy bars below the counter. “ a nickel, and it will last all day. and build strength in your teeth. we got vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, take your pick.”
pete decided to humor mike. “o k, i’ll have a strawberry turkish taffy.” he gave mike one of the three quarters his grandmother had given him, and mike put in the cash register and gave pete two dimes change.
“that wasn’t so tough, was it?” mike asked, in a friendlier tone now that pete had bought something.
“i guess not,” pete admitted.
“you see, if you get a job - somewhere else, not here, you’ll have more money and you can buy more candy. that’s the way it works.”
“right,” pete agreed. he tried to smile.
“so now where are you going? going to look someplace else?”
“maybe. i thought i might go to a movie first.”
“movies, huh? where do you go?”
“usually the palace or the roxie. i like the roxie, they have a new show three times a week.”
“ever go to the strand?”
“the strand? “ pete considered this. “never heard of it. where is it? downtown somewhere?”
“no, it’s just over on 88th street. it’s small, you could walk right by it and not see it. and they got a new show - a new double feature - every day. and they got movies they don’t show anywhere else. movies you never heard of.”
“huh.”
“and it’s only fifteen cents. for the matinee. and only two bits at night.”
“wow. maybe i’ll check it out. on 88th street?”
“yeah, 88th and ninth avenue. tell them mike sent you.”
“i’ll do that.” pete wondered if he would get extra popcorn or something if he told them mike sent him, but he did not say so to mike.
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