Max by Howard Fast Page A

and said, ‘Ma’am. How do you do?’ He had never before in his life greeted anyone in precisely that manner, and he thought he brought it off rather well.
    At the next corner, Miss MacClintock left them to continue across town while they turned uptown; and Miss Levine said, with some asperity, ‘Really, Mr Britsky, this can’t go on. I will not be accosted by you whenever I leave the school.’
    â€˜I only done – did it once before. This is only the second time. That’s not whenever you leave the school.’
    â€˜Twice is enough. What on earth do you want?’
    â€˜I guess I just want to know you, to be your friend.’
    â€˜What!’ Her surprise and indignation hit Max like a severe slap in the face. Apparently she realised that she had struck home, because when Max stopped dead in his tracks, she walked only a few steps before she turned around and went back to him.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ she said.
    â€˜For what? For nothing. You got this East Side hoodlum annoying you and you tell him to buzz off. That’s all right. It’s a free country.’
    â€˜That’s not what I meant.’
    â€˜Sure it is. Don’t you think I know what I am? I’m Britsky, which is nothing to write home about. I got no education and I got no class, and with a puss like mine, I don’t have any looks either.’
    â€˜You’re a very nice-looking young man, Mr Britsky, and you’re just making too much of this. I am four years older than you, and I would think you’d be better suited to a young lady of your own age.’
    â€˜I know. I get the message.’
    Now Miss Levine smiled slightly and said, ‘You know, I was going to walk away a moment ago and leave you with my briefcase, and I guess that does indicate that I trust you. It’s very kind of you to carry it. Would you like to walk home with me?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜All the way up to Tenth Street? It’s a good-sized walk.’
    â€˜You don’t mind?’
    â€˜I asked you because I’d like you to.’
    â€˜Right.’
    They walked on for another block in silence, then she said to him. ‘What is your first name, Mr Britsky? You do have a first name?’
    â€˜You like to kid me, don’t you? Sure I got a first name. Max.’
    â€˜Max?’
    â€˜That’s right. And your name’s –?’
    â€˜Sally.’
    â€˜So if you called me Max and I called you Sally, the world wouldn’t come to an end, would it?’
    â€˜I suppose not.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So what?’
    â€˜So would you call me Max and let me call you Sally?’
    They had now reached Houston Street, and they turned west toward Broadway. Once again, Miss Levine paused and faced him. ‘To what end, Mr Britsky?’ she asked him.
    â€˜Damnit!’ he blurted out. ‘I want us to be friends! I want to go around with you the way a guy does with a girl. I want to see you again without standing outside that lousy school like some total dumbbell. I want to take you out to dinner.’
    â€˜That’s quite impossible,’ Miss Levine said primly.
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜I don’t think we ought to go into that. You’re a very young man. I am much older than you, and I think we would have very little if anything in common.’
    â€˜Yeah, if you count the years, you’re four years older, but if you count what it takes to grow up in this rotten city, I’m ten years older than you, and maybe you figure I’m just a hoodlum, so there’s nothing we got in common, because I left school and I don’t speak the way you do, but –’ He was grinning at her now.
    â€˜But what?’
    â€˜But I’ll grow on you, I bet. Look, let me take you out to dinner tonight and I’ll bet you twenty bucks you’ll like me enough to do it again.’
    â€˜Oh? All right. Not tonight. Tomorrow