Part 27 (1/2)

”What happened to your leg?”

”A fight with some white guys, one of them had a knife and got me in the back.”

”A fight?” He didn't seem surprised. ”Over what?”

”I was trying to help two girls.”

”Girls?”

Joshua nodded.

”Were they black girls?”

”No, they were Jewish.”

”I see.” Again, pensive. He stood up and stretched. ”Well, Mr. Eubanks, you should think more seriously about becoming a lawyer. You'll probably make an excellent one; you seem to have a gifted mind. You may even contribute to your people one day, help them as you did those Jewish girls. Unless, of course, you're afraid of being wounded again.”

”I'll think about it,” Joshua said. He would have said anything at this point to have gotten out of there.

”Good, you do that,” Thompson replied. ”You can go now.”

Joshua got up, and walked toward the door.

”One more thing, Mr. Eubanks.”

”Yes.” He turned around.

”Have you ever heard of Crow Hill?” Thompson asked.

”No.”

”Have you heard of Crow Heights?”

”No.”

”You might want to look them up in the library. You might find something interesting.” Thompson turned away, giving the impression that he wasn't looking for a reply. Joshua left the room, forgot about his next cla.s.s, and headed directly for the library.

Joshua didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but was sure it would be some obscure little historical snippet of seeming insignificance.

Crow Hill.

Crow Heights.

What could Thompson have been alluding to?

Figuring it obviously had something to do with Crown Heights, he searched the card catalogue for t.i.tles about Brooklyn. He pulled three books, dealing specifically with the history of Brooklyn, and searched their indices. All had entries for Crown Heights, but the first two had nothing under Crow. He was just about convinced he was chasing a ghost, when he came upon an entry in the third book.

There it was, in front of his eyes: Crow Hill. He turned to the page and began reading about how, during the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Crown Heights had actually been called Crow Hill. It was regarded as a hill because it was the highest point of land stretching from the hills east of Prospect Park to East New York. The term crow had two origins. The first was that, according to folklore, the hill had been infested with crows. The second theory was based on the fact that the area had been settled in the 1830's by freed black slaves, who were referred to as ”crows” by whites.

In either case, the black settlers lived in shacks they built on the hill. Many of them had been farmers or craftsmen, while others found work in the fish and meat markets in Manhattan. Years later, as the city limits extended, Crow Hill's abundance of land and centralized location attracted many Protestant middle-cla.s.s immigrants from Western Europe, who in turn developed the area by building churches, hospitals, parks, museums, and architecturally rich homes. By the early 1920's, the opening of a subway line to the area led to an apartment house building boom, and brought a new influx of immigrants, most of whom were Jewish, Irish, and Italian. Over time, the blacks were forced out as Crow Hill became a highly desirable place for the city's growing urban cla.s.s to live.

An obscure little snippet indeed.

Joshua sat and reread the chapter. It didn't take much to guess what Thompson was trying to tell him. A story about whites taking over a black neighborhood. Vintage Thompson: the repression of historical truth to maintain the white domination of society.

The only remaining question concerned the change of name, something the book, surprisingly, didn't discuss. It wasn't difficult, however, for Joshua to figure that out; after all, the professor had taught him a few things.

He guessed that the new name, Crown Heights, must have been coined by the whites in their effort to upscale the area and rid it of the negative connotation a.s.sociated with its former residents. As for Crow Heights, a term also absent from any of the books, he guessed that it was either an interim name, between Crow Hill and Crown Heights, or a little quip for those in the know, like Thompson, used as a subtle reminder of a neglected past.

Joshua now understood. He had accused Thompson of oversimplifying, and the professor had responded masterfully, using Joshua's own neighborhood as an example of how truly complex things are. Touche!

Months had pa.s.sed since Joshua had seen Rachel. She called once to tell him she was pregnant. The conversation had been tense. He had felt her fear of Binny walking in and discovering her on the phone with him. He had been growing increasingly uneasy with the whole situation.

He hadn't shared his feelings at the time, for it had been her moment of joy. He had also liked the fact that she still needed to talk with him, to share things with him. Above all, he didn't want to lose her.

But now he was at a turning point. Perhaps it was Professor Thompson's influence, or perhaps he was growing up; whatever, he needed to do something.

The day finally came in the middle of February, during his two-week intercession from college. She had called and asked for another meeting. It was a bone-chilling afternoon, the streets were covered with wet snow and ice from a recent storm. Rachel insisted on the boardwalk, their ”safe” hideout.

As usual, his arrival preceded hers. The boardwalk was barren; the gusts off the ocean unbearable. He saw her approaching in a bright red wool coat and matching hat. Not very inconspicuous, he thought.

”It's quite cold here,” were her first words. Her hands remained in her pocket, s.h.i.+vering along with the rest of her.

”Want to go inside?”

”Where?”

”There's a little luncheonette a few blocks from here. Nice, quiet, and warm.”

She considered for a moment. ”Okay, let's go.”

They left the boardwalk, and walked the two blocks in silence. The freezing air was nothing compared to the chill Joshua felt from her. The luncheonette was on a corner, just below the El, its fogged windows suggesting a toasty interior.

They walked over to an empty table. Rachel removed her coat and hat, as Joshua noticed how four months of pregnancy didn't do much to alter her appearance. In fact, he thought, she looked even better, as if that were possible. She smiled a bit awkwardly, knowing she was being scrutinized.

”I've put on a few pounds,” she said.

”You look great.”

”Thanks, you're being kind.”

The waitress presented herself. Joshua ordered a hot chocolate. Since the place wasn't kosher, Rachel asked only for some cold water.

”I'm sorry, I forgot,” Joshua said.

”It's fine,” Rachel replied. ”Cold water is good for you, especially when you're pregnant.”

He looked at her and smiled.

”Enough about me. How have you been?” she asked.