cherilda, part 1

story by horace p sternwall

art by danny delacroix and eddie el greco

for previous story, click here

to begin series, click here

part one of two

a moderately busy night at bob’s bowery bar, at the bowery and bleecker street, on a cool spring evening with a hint of rain in the air. it was tuesday, bob’s usual night off, and paddy the philosopher was presiding behind the bar. a jolly party of shriner’s from ardmore oklahama had just departed the premises, and paddy was busy emptying their ashtrays when the front door opened. what paddy, from his spot at the far end of the bar, took to be a female child, entered and looked around the room uncertainly. as the neighborhood was inhabited mostly by poor fellows down on their luck and on their own, bob’s got less than its share of children coming in to beg daddy to come home, but it did get them from time to time, and paddy preferred not to deal with them. he had nothing against kids, but he did not “have a way” wth them either, so he asked connie the waitress, who was hanging at the end of the bar, to attend to the child. connie took a last long drag on her old gold, stubbed it out in one of the ashtrays paddy had just finished cleaning, and headed toward the front of the room. when she was less than halfway there, she realized that the person was not a child, but just a small woman, who could have been as old as fifty. but child or not, the creature definitely looked lost. she was wearing a heavy coat with old fashioned wide skirts and laced up boots showing beneath it, and a flowered hat of the kind seen on the heads of horses in saturday evening post covers. she had small but vivid spots of rouge on her cheeks. “can i help you, madam?” connie asked. “are you looking for someone?” “it’s miss, not madam.” “i beg your pardon, miss. but are you in fact looking for someone? or would you like to have a seat, and order something? this is a place that serves food and drink, at reasonable prices. i think the bar might be a little high for you, but there is a comfortable -“ “i’m looking for a husband ,” the little woman interrupted connie. “oh? a husband?” connie answered with a smile. “or your husband? but didn’t you just say - ?” “i have to find a husband by midnight, or they will come and get me - “ “she’s a loony!” came a voice from about halfway down the bar. the voice belonged to a semi-regular who called himself straight-talking sid, or straight-shooting sid, when he spoke to anyone, which was not often. on this night he was alone, as he usually was. “shut up, sid,” connie told him. “i mean it. i won’t tell you again.” “she’s a loony!” sid repeated. “i ought to know a loony when i see one -“ at this point paddy came down the bar. he immediately saw that the child was not a child. “what’s going on here?” he asked connie. “nothing much,” connie told him. “everything is under control, especially now that sid here is going to mind his manners and shut his yap. and i am going to find this lady a seat and she will order something and i will serve her and everything will be peaches and cream.” “all right.” paddy nodded, and went back to a post halfway down the bar, in the vicinity of the poets’ table, whose occupants had seemed to take no notice of the newcomer ’s arrival. connie took the little woman over to a table in the corner nearest the front door, away from sid, the poets, and the other.customers, and got her seated. “now, miss, besides a husband, what would you like? would you like something to drink?” “yes, please. a lemonade.” “a lemonade? we can manage that. how about something to eat? the special today is beef stew, made by bob’s own mom. it’s the best on the bowery, and beef stew always goes good with lemonade.” “um - i don’t have much money.” “that’s all right. the first time is free. we know, if you like it, you will come back for more.” “all right.” “what’s your name, by the way?” “cherilda.” “that’s a pretty name. you wait right here, cherilda, and i will be right back. if anybody bothers you, just holler.” * “i think sid was right,” connie said to paddy in a low voice, after placing the order for beef stew with bob’s mom in the kitchen. “she looks as crazy as a new jersey dock rat, the poor thing. you should call the police, see if anybody is looking for her.” “all right,” paddy sighed. “but that is all i can do. she is not a child, she isn’t causing a disturbance. i will give her one free meal if she can’t pay, but that’s it.” “right.” “you know, “ paddy said, “sometimes on this job, i think i might as well have become a priest. all i do is listen to people’s troubles, and watch the woe of the world drift by like old packing crates in the river.” “you are very poetic tonight, paddy.” “do you ever get the same feeing? i mean, that you might as well have been a nun?” “no, i can’t say that i do.” part 2