Free Summer Accommodations: A Novel by Sidney Hart Page B

don’t even waste your time trying. Anyway, White is the name I was born with, I didn’t change it.” In spite of my efforts not to I was sounding very defensive, and totally oblivious of the irony that I could trade Melvin for Jack readily, while cringing at my grandfather’s decision to swap Zwartzoffski for White.
    â€œC’mon, what was it, some thing really grotesque like Baumbergsteinwitz ?”
    â€œNo, actually it was Sheenykikemockyjew. We changed it because it was such a bitch to spell.”
    â€œJust asking, Mel, no offense intended. But we both know there were never any Whites, Blacks, Greystones, or Taylors in the ghettos. I could alter my name, but …” That was one of Ron’s jokes, alter Alter.
    â€œThere are alternatives I’m sure,” I said, hoping we were done with the genealogical survey of my family. To try to insure that I added, “Boy I’m hungry, I hope some of that roast beef is left over from Saturday night.”
    â€œYou want to know what’s left over from last Saturday night? Rosie is left over from last Saturday night. Are you ready for her yet?”
    â€œSure.” I felt myself blush and my heart flipped in my chest like a fish in a net.
    â€œThen I’ll take you to meet her after dinner. I’m sick and tired of listening to that goddamned cha-cha music in the recreation hall anyway. Do you think the Cubans ever play Klezmer music at their resorts?” Seeing my perplexity Ron waved his hand and said, “Forget it.”
    I was distracted all through dinner and Sammy was irritated with me for not schmoozing the guests more enthusiastically. He cornered me in the kitchen as I collected the salads and various dressings.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you Melvin, aren’t you interested in making any money this week? Why aren’t your pecuniary proclivities in a pulsatile pandemonium?” Sammy had been studying P words.
    â€œIt’s Monday night, for godsakes, get started and be friendly already. You want that I should earn you your tips?”
    I kept looking over at Ron’s station but he paid me no mind whatsoever. Ron was being very polite and charming to his guests and totally oblivious of my eager glances. After clean up and the ritual wiping and sorting of the silver he came to my station and asked if I was ready to go.
    â€œIs there really a Rosie?” I asked trying to sound wary and shrewd. “And how come you haven’t pointed her out if she really exists.” I was hoping that she was a fabrication of his, not real, not flesh and blood.
    â€œWhen you’re done whining we can get washed up and I’ll take you to meet her. She’s waiting for us.”
    At nine o’clock we left the waiters’ quarters and cut through the line of trees that separated us from the dormitory housing some of the other hotel employees. Trying to be cool I kicked at a stone as we passed through the weeds, but the stone was embedded in the ground and didn’t budge causing me to stumble and abrade my hands when I fell. “Gee, I’m bleeding. Maybe we should go back so I can wash up.”
    â€œRosie would welcome you if you were wrapped in a plaster cast from head to toe. Chickening out Melvin? Podus frostus? Feetus coldus?” he rode me gleefully.
    I pulled out my handkerchief and dabbed at my palms. “Lets go then.”
    Rosie’s room was in the rear section of the building where some of the chambermaids lived. The older ones drove in each morning from the nearby towns but the younger ones, like Rosie, lived on the grounds and their room and board made up a big part of their pay, just like the waiters and busboys.
    â€œDo you have a girl up here Ron?” I asked as we climbed the back stairs.
    â€œVivian works in a summer camp near Liberty. We don’t see that much of each other up here. We’re going to get married after we finish school. This