SID1
There were Saturdays and vacation days when my best friend Ross and I walked east, from our street on Cabrini Boulevard, past Pinehurst and Fort Washington Avenues to Broadway. But although, looking back, I often wonder where we were going, I vividly recall our route…as well as a strange character we invariably encountered along the way; a character I never forgot. Sid.2
Most times our jaunts to Broadway revolved around trips to one of the several candy stores on the strip. The nucleus of the call lay in finding and obtaining the latest issue of our favorite EC comic book: Tales From The Crypt, Vault of Horror, Haunt of Fear, or one of the two science fiction magazines: Weird Fantasy or Weird Science. And then there was the most recent and strangest of the EC family: Mad…before it became the popular magazine it is today. Those were the days, notably of Harvey Kurtzman, before his success in Playboy Magazine with Little Annie Fanny; the days of Wally Wood and his incredibly shaded, sexy, sensual and detailed feminine forms and faces; and Jack Davis, who went on to become one of America’s leading commercial cartoonists. Those were the days of the brilliant artists Joe Orlando, Al Williamson, Jack Kamen, Al Feldstein and Bill Severin. And, of course, publishing giant Bill Gaines. But not everyone appreciated the talents of these men, and there were those who objected to what they were publishing. Even though “EC” stood for Entertainment Comics. I recall a precursor to what eventually happened to these comic books, a hint of what was to come when they were sued and banned by a righteous, what now would be called “politically correct” group of “concerned” adults.3
During a bout with the flu, my father asked me if I wanted anything from the outside. I knew he would stop at a newsstand for the newspaper so I asked him to get one of the recent EC books. I provided him with a list in case my first choice was not available. Apparently it was not, and my father was compelled to recite the entire slate: Crypt, Horror, Fear, Weird Science, Fantasy and Mad. The newsy, who carried none of the above and was also not as familiar with the titles as a local candy store man would be, asked my father what kind of little monster he had at home.4
But Ross and I felt no such alienation at any of our familiar Broadway haunts. And so, before they were to disappear forever, as many good things do, after locating the object of our search on the colorful rack, we settled in, on one of the red plastic spinning stools and ordered egg-creams for 7 cents, with pretzels; if it was an especially hot afternoon, lime rickeys. And, on the black and white flecked marble countertop, we read the Crypt Keeper’s latest tale. You could smell the new ink on the pages. 5
The chocolate sodas lasted for no more than one story and we needed to save something for that night at home. So, to buoy the enervation of departure and maintain our high spirits, we plunked down another nickel for a Three Musketeers bar on the way out of Dave’s candy store. Just for serendipity sake, we might purchase a box of Dick Tracy Candy and Toy (cartoons and story on back of package). Who knew what might have been in there? And, with fresh Tales From The Crypt, rolled to protrude from our back pocket, we headed for home.6
It could have been on the way to, or returning from, the candy store on Broadway that Ross and I almost predictably ran into Sid. I do not clearly remember the first time I had ever seen Sid, but it seemed like he had always been there, wandering up and down the block; just a part of the neighborhood, a fixture, particularly on 177th Street, where he lived. 7
Up until that year I had never had any confrontation, dealings or conversation with Sid. Now, however, things were changing. As we spent less time in the company of parents and more hours alone and with mischievous pals, and as we felt urged to test our grit on this threshold of manhood, challenges presented themselves… everywhere. Sid was a challenge.8
Sid was somewhere between fifty and sixty years old; it was difficult to tell. He was about six feet two or three, had gray hair worn in a crew cut, and was afflicted with some sort of spastic palsy. His face was somewhat contorted, his arms flailed about, his posture was stooped and he was not especially intelligible. Sometimes he drooled. Occasionally he would burst into a giraffe-like run as he came after us...most likely, playfully. We could not discern if Sid’s affliction was primarily mental or physical. It seemed a large part of both, although we were never quite sure. There were two or three children in the neighborhood within a few years of our age group who had had cerebral palsy, so we were familiar with that, and we understood physical impairment need not affect mental faculties at all. Sid’s condition, however, did not seem limited to cerebral palsy. 9
I don’t recall how we knew his name. I suppose, in his garbled, inarticulate way, he may have told us. But we called him Sid, and he seemed to accept that. Whatever the case, we recognized the appellation and took instant heed when one of us called: “Here comes Sid!”10
Usually the encounter took place between Broadway and Fort Washington Avenue, Sid’s block. Sometimes, if we were on the other side of the street, given that Ross was in a particularly daring and frisky frame of mind, I can recall my friend initiating the meet by, contrary to all common sense, yelling: “Hey, Sid!” There were occasions, if excessive enthusiasm was demonstrated by Sid, when, a bit spooked, we did not follow through and left poor Sid in his giraffe-like pursuit of us. But there were those instances when Ross crossed the street, and engaged Sid in what appeared to pass for conversation, however nonsensical or pointless.11
It was during one such “conversation” that Sid alluded to his FBI badges. And in several subsequent “conversations” invited us to come up to his apartment to see the collection. I had had another friend who was at that time quite taken with the FBI and who was also invited by Sid to view the collection. In his slurred and distorted enthusiasm Sid swore to us that he had been an FBI agent and tried to prevail upon us to view the proof...”upstairs.” We thought a lot about that and were sorely tempted to venture up…just to see. But we never quite dared. 12
It wasn’t clear whether Sid lived alone or with some guardian or caretaker. He was never with anyone; always alone on the street. The times were rare, however, when Ross and I could walk the block between Fort Washington and Broadway and not run into, or run away from, Sid. If he saw us, he ran after us with the kind of urgency that could only indicate the necessity to communicate a message of extreme importance. And sometimes we indulged his apparent exigency. Sometimes we ran out of his reach.13
We often wondered if Sid, or a part of him, was for real, just wanted to play, or whether there was something darker lurking within. But Ross and I had met one of our rites of passage... almost. I left Washington Heights in 1958 and never got to see Sid again. I suppose I left him there, in the Heights. But I did take with me that, forever to remain unseen, gleaming, venerable, collection of badges. Proof positive of Sid's FBI days. 14
Author notes
An EGG-CREAM is a New York favorite soda in neighborhood candy stores. It has absolutely NOTHING to do with eggs...and is merely a richer, slightly more elaborate version of the chocolate soda! Recipe: One to one and a half inches of chocolate syrup...add a splash of milk, also about an inch...fill with soda water (seltzer in N.Y.) and stir!
Result: The Egg-Cream! Goes great with pretzels...either twisted or long!
GA
A contest entry
- Quick Fiction by WritersEffigy.
110 points, ended December 14, 2008, 6 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 28 of 28
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I'm impressed!
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Nice
A pleasant read. I did skip p3 myself and when I saw the comment returned to read it. It's not really necessary as colinlinder said, but as part of a history lesson it should stay. Sonds like a last page story in some magazine...
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Hey Gary,
We had our 'Sid' growing up. His affliction came from being tortured in a Japanese prison camp though. I was also a fan of EC comics. They were considerably different than what the kids read today. Great bit of nostalgia, thanks for sharing
Steve
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Great Story
In our neighborhood on the west side of Chicago, it was Francis O'Connor. And it was Italian lemonade for me, but my Dad made "Chocolate phoskeys" that sounds lots like your EGG CREAM. Ah, to be young at the dawn of Mad magazine again.
The beginning is a bit slow, and the construction of the second sentence is a bit disjointed in my humble but very correct opinion. But judging from the other comments, you have the interest of the people and rightfully so.
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nice!
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Fantastic
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Nice slice of life piece. Sid seems quite the character. I'm sure most of us have a "sid" where we grew up. I found P3 a little excessive on the backstory behind EC though. Doesn't seem to contribute to the storyline enough to require such detail
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Always a good read
Sittin' on a park bench in Washington Heights, readin' a Mad magazine and drinkin' a Moxie.
beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 3, ending: 4, characters: 5.
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Very nice. And again, loved the no dialogue.
The descriptions explained a lot and painted a picture in my mind of everything that went on. I agree with Rorshach. Nostalgic and vivid.
This piece was great. =]
--Becky.
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A typically nostalgic piece, and as vivid as usual.
A real celebration of american comic books and candy that is both comfortable and slighly sad.
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This is really great! The description is so colorful that you almost feel like you're there. I don't know why, but I just seem to be attracted to that particular time period in the fifties for some reason. Maybe it was this book that I read, "It's Like This, Cat," or maybe just because my grandmother used to tell me stories about back then was I was younger. But still... that time period just seems like it was so nice and fun... and innocent, in a way. Anyway, I think the main reason I liked your story so much was because it was just so REAL. I love it!
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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*Unholsters a double barrell and takes the dog round back for you, a distant bang can be heard a few moments later..*
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Actually, if I wasn't so lactose intolerant that Egg-Cream would sound delicious.
That said, I LOVE this story. I think it's one of my favorites so far (right after the one about Whitehorse.) I love Sid. The first thing that came into my mind at the mention of FBI was that he was maybe shot somewhere like the head or spine and that the wound had somehow influenced the way he was today. I know some FBI agents personally (and one retired one) who are all a little eccentric in their own ways, lol.
(For some reason he also made me think of Boo Radley from Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird, a wonderful, eccentric man who noone understood.)
This is so endearing. I will now forever be wondering if Sid really had those shining badges and stars up in his living quarters. Well done! -
Another fine piece! Sid reminded me of a local gentleman who would dress up in a khaki uniform decorated with every pin and badge he got his hands on to direct traffic on the same corner of town (towns where I live were quite small back then). When he passed away everyone went to his funeral.
Thank you for a good read.
Anaya
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Yet again, you have allowed us a glimpse at days gone by. I really feel sorry for Sid, whether or not he had "something darker lurking within". I hope he got the help he needed. I'm a little confused by the ending, however: did you actually find out that he was in the FBI in the past, or am I completely misreading this ending? I caught one little typo at the end of paragraph 6 (missing space), but that was the only thing wrong with this story! Fantastic...makes me wish I had the sort of childhood in which I could go out with my friends on excursions (such as yours) to buy comics, eat chocolate and drink soda. That's the good life right there.
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Sid.
He reminds me of a character that we have walking our streets down here in Tucson. Always on the same street, outside a grocery store, she walks up and down in various gowns (one a wedding gown), holding an intricate umbrella above her head. But she's not bonkers as she makes out to be as a friend of mine's met her in the grocery store...
Well, Gary, what's to say? Yet again, you've brought up the hometown with another one of its memories and it shared it with us all.
A couple things:
This sentence in paragraph 5:
"[And so, before they were to disappear forever, as many good things do, after locating the object of our search on the colorful rack, we settled in, on one of the red plastic spinning stools and ordered egg-creams for 7 cents, with pretzels]; if it was an especially hot afternoon, lime rickeys."
(Within the inserted brackets, it just seems a bit jumpy.)
Paragraph 11: sentences 2 and 3: (Again, a bit jumpy.)
Other than that, another great tale.
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See my Quick Comment.
beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 5, ending: 4, characters: 5.
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Sid is one of the more memorable characters of my childhood and I well remember the jaunts that Gary and I went on seeking out the latest EC comic book and fairly often running into Sid. What I can reflect on most about Sid is that I don't remember being cruel to him because of his deficiencies; instead, I tried to befriend him within appropriate limits. Although we had a friend or two who might have been cruel to a man like Sid, Gary and I would never have thought to do so. Does that observation relate in any way that both he and I specialized in psychology in graduate school? I wonder! Anyway, to steal a line from Bob Hope - Gary, thanks for the memories. Kep it up. Ross
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Sid certainly sounds like a character. I took several re-readings to get the idea that the only thing taken in the last two sentences was the imagined idea of the badges.
Thanks for the explanation of egg creams, but what are lime rickeys?
Apart from those things, great writing, as always, although the vocab is occasionally something of a stretch for my lexically limited cerebrum.
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A wonderful story. A tour de force of nostalgia, intertwined with a mysterious character.
Your style of writing is largely easy to read and you have a comfortable, indepth grasp of the English language without overuse.
I do want to make two general points: I think you overuse commas and despite it having a certain degree of positive effect, you make some of your sentences too long - readers shouldn't have to eye-trace the thread of a sentence that long.
I can truly say I enjoyed this, and think it is one of the better stories I have read for quite some time. However, in my usual, predictable way, I always like to provide an editorial style critique - you are welcome to do this to any of mine!
para 2 - "often wonder" should be "often wondered". Not a big point - you used "character" twice close together - I can see a usefulness in repetition, but could you have used a synonym? (a question more than an editorial point).
para 3 - should "comic book" be plural? "I recall a precursor to what eventually happened..." is a little clumsy.
para 4 - first sentence doesn't need a comma. "EC Books" - pedantic here - is it really a book?
para 5 - although nicely done, I think your second sentence is far too long - needs breaking up.
para 6 - less so, but a long sentence in there.
para 7 - while separated by a few paragraphs, you use the word "invariably" - a nice and apt word, but for me, using it twice in the exactly the same context is not quite right - should find a synonym.
para 9 - "understandable" - this is personal, but I hate the word - how does "intelligible" sound?
para 12 - 4th sentence doesn't need a comma.
para 13 - "He was never with anyone but always alone on the street." - a little tautological.
para 14 - Should it be "our rights of passage" instead of "the"?
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To Gezza...Much Appreciated!
I thank you for the thoughtful and constructive comment. Most generous.
I plead guilty to the overuse of commas and have fixed this in a few spots.... I must have been absent on the day they went over this!
So far as some of the other of your comments they were quite helpful, revealing, once again, no one of us is perfect...and also showing us why God made good editors and proof-readers.
The "wonder" vs. "wondered" note I feel you may have misread. I WONDER NOW...(where we were headed) I KNEW then! So..."wondered" would be incorrect.
We also were on quest for our "favorite ONE BOOK..."(among all of them)...so I let that be as well.
I broke up the sentences you suggested...although comprimising on one with a semi-colon! lol! But you were correct...sentences TOO long!
With "EC BOOKS"...I was trying to be kind. It's acceptable, so I left it.
I think you were absolutely correct citing "invariably" as a verboten example of repitition...thank you for the catch. I changed it to "predictably!" (Better than "almost always")
And you are DOUBLY right with "understandible"...no need to have explained. I must have been absent, also, on the day I wrote this! Changed to your suggested "intelligible!" (Ah! THAT'S the word! lol!)
Removed the unnecessary comma from P12...and changed "the rights" to "our rights." Again, thank you for that catch.
Finally I changed the tautology around about, in re "no one else with him" (an observation) and "alone" (for me, more to HIS OWN feeling). So the pair are still expressed...still there in the sentence...but separated so as to be less offensive to the tautologically sensitive! lol!
Thanks again, most helpful and constructive!
GA
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Oops I forgot!... in Australia, quite a few years ago, there was a really nice milk drink one could buy from corner stores and supermarkets called "Big Egg Nog". It didn't have eggs in them - and it certainly didn't have what you referred to, but I now wonder if the company that produced them was influenced by the NY product. It isn't made anymore, but it was popular for many years.
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I liked this, now that I took the time to go back to it. Thank you for reminding me that I meant to actually read this. And for the note at the end about the egg cream. I surely thought they did have something to do with eggs! I liked this story, mostly, because I could relate to it. I remember the crypt keeper, and some of the others. I never had a sid, and it does make me wonder what wouldva happened had he caught them. Great story.
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I really enjoyed reading this piece. It is descriptive, warm and nostalgic. I could almost see you and your friend sipping those drinks, even though I don't know what they are.
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Very good, a bit different, but still good. You used nice description and I liked the ending. Great job!
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I liked this. I like writing about my past experiences, as well...although I don't have very many (I'm only 16). I like your style...it's straight to the point and full of details that are just simply nice to know. Reading this made me feel nostalgic; I enjoy that. Great read.
-jj
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I only have one question. Most of the treats I recongized, if not eaten, but I don't know what an egg-cream is.
This was another wonderful tale from your childhood and it almost reminded me of the movie 'The Sandlot'. Not for the story but for the time line and the fact that you could walk down the street with pepper spray and a stungun *sigh*
Thanks
Brooke
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And now?
I like you trips down memory lane, not for sentiment's sake, but for the unresolved enigmas. I have a few shady characters flitting about too, and when the Talisker is opened, they seem to come from wherever they are, but they still keep their secrets; it's almost as if they stick the fingers up at me, knowing Ill never know for sure.....................
As usual, nicely paced and structured, and enough detail to help place the stranger in the wilds of NYC. I'll never go there myself, but I can envisage the place from your description.
beginning: 3, language: 4, ending: 3, characters: 4.
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