Joey Gallo's Lament

We filed into church single file and sat in our assigned pews. The boys on right side and the girls on the left. You didn’t get to talk to the opposite sex or interact much in church. The only glimpse you got of the girls was is when they went up to take communion. Then they would walk up innocently in their Catholic school jumpers with their long white sox. You thoughts might not be so innocent but you had to suppress them. I mean you were in church for crying out loud.

For some reason they reversed the usual order. The boys went first. It must have been because there was only one priest today.  Normally the curate would come out for communion and each would walk down the altar rail from the center to the right or left and give the kneeling students the Host. We filed up and kneeled under the watchful eyes of the Nuns from the school. After all the boys have gone up they were back in the pews with their heads bowed. We all looked up from under our brows as the girls filed up to the altar rail. When the girls from our class got to the rail we all paid more attention than we ever did in school. Connie sauntered up to the rail a picture of sin if there ever was one. Of course we were too young to know to do with that but we knew it had to be fun. A lot of fun. Connie had the shortest skirt of any of the girls and the fullest jumper. As she knelt down she had the full attention of every boy in the eighth grade. As she rested her full breasts on the alter rail we all sighed. Almost in unison. It was as if somebody let the air out of a tire. She took Communion and as she turned away from the rail she gave us all a flash of panty. We are going straight to Hell.

When Mass was over we all ended up on the sidewalk on Summit Street. Everybody split up to start their Sunday. Some of us walked home with the family. Some of us had chores to do before we got home. I walked down Henry St. with Joey Bags, Nicky Squirrel and Johnnie Snot Rocket. We walked over to Leotta’s Bakery to get mini-pastries. You see when you got sent to the store you had to go to a different one for each item. You got your bread from one bakery but your pastries from another. Grandma only wanted the best and if you didn’t get it you would get a shot in the noggin with the wooden spoon. I had to pick up some mini-pastries at Leottas. The best pastry was at Court Pastry at Court and Degraw but they only had the big ones. The best little ones were here and I had to get two dozen. We were eating over Grandma’s like we did most every Sunday. This was going to be a great day because my Uncle Angelo and his family were going to be there. So I got to hang out with my cousins which didn’t happen as much as it used to these days. They had moved to Staten Island last year. Right over the Guinea Gangplank and into a new house. So I was always a treat when they showed up for Sunday Dinner at Grandma’s house.

The guys had also been sent to get pastries. You always had a great desert in those days. Pastry like cannoli, pasticotto, sfofliatella, egg claires, cream puffs, spiradell and my personal favorites the spinges that you only got on St. Joseph’s Day. Or maybe a creamy ricotta cheese cake. You had to get that from Court Pastry so we weren’t having that today.

We all put in our orders and the girls working behind the counter placed them in a box and sprinkled them with powdered sugar. I got two dozen miniatures and said goodbye to the guys as they were finishing their purchases. I walked out of the shop and walked down Henry St. When I got to the corner of Sacket I stopped short. Standing under the lamp post smoking a cigarette was Joey Gallo and Joe Jelly. Crap. They saw me. I will have to talk to them.

Thank God I was in a State of Grace. If he was going to kill me at least I was going to heaven. Unless looking at Connie and my thoughts were in the equation. Then I would be in trouble. And I didn't even get to do anything. I just thought about it. Life is just not fair.