Big-Nose Frankie And The Cute Little Kitten--Part 2

I’d heard Big Nose describe what he did with girls. He hadthree girlfriends already and was always trying for more even when one of themwas with him. The thought of him getting his hands on Maggie and making her doany of that made me want to go home and pull down the shades, but I couldn’tleave.

“Poor little kitten,” Big Nose said to her. “She’s beenrubbing against our legs and mewing.”

“Who does it belong to?” Maggie held the kitten close to herface.

“I think she’s a stray, poor little thing.”  Big Nose threw a tremor into his voice.“But every time I try to pick her up, she just jumps away.”

“She might be hungry,” Maggie said.

“Poor wittle kitten!” Big Nose said. “Are you hungwee?” Heput his big hooked nose close to the little kitten and to Maggie. “Hold her.I’ll go get her some milk.” He hopped over toward the Sterling Bar, where onAngelo, the bowling alley manager’s tab, he was a steady customer.

Lockup told me they saw Maggie pass that way a couple ofnights a week, but this was the first time Big Nose had ever spoken to her. (Itturned out her singing teacher had his studio on Broadway and 83^rd.)

Watching Big Nose walk into the Sterling, Lockup shook hishead. “Broads love kittens,” he said. From the tone of his voice, I could tellhe didn’t like what Big Nose did with women either.

I leaned against the car, trying to brainwave Maggie intoputting down the kitten and going home, but too late. Big-Nose came boundingback with a saucer of cream. He set it down on the sidewalk and when Maggie putthe kitten down, he lowered his face to the saucer and went eye-to-eye with thecute little kitten, raising his chin to show Maggie his profile. He had atheory that girls believed the longer your nose the manlier you were.

“Are you hungwee wittle kitty?” he asked from his side ofthe saucer.

From the opposite side, the kitten gazed into Big Nose’sface for a moment, and then casually raised its left front paw and raked threeparallel scratch marks deep into the length of his big hooked nose.

Frankie went berserk. He leapt up cursing, snatched the cutelittle kitten by its front paw, swung it back, and flung it over the secondfloor roof of the Sterling Bowling Alley. Then he grabbed a dirty handkerchieffrom his pocket and began dabbing at his nose and asking Vitamins and Lockup, Didkittens carry rabies?

Vitamins said they didn’t, but Lockup wasn’t sure. They bothadvised him to go up to the bowling alley and get Angelo the Manager’sfirst-aid kit and put some iodine on it.

“Think it’ll it leave a scar?” Big Nose wanted to know.

Lockup consulted Abner the Stooper.  “Not if you put the iodine on rightaway.” they said and Big Nose rushed for the stairs to the bowling alley.

With all the excitement, I didn’t see Maggie leave. I wassure she’d never have anything to do with Big-Nose after that little display,but I’d changed my mind about wanting her to think I was one of his friends. NowI was praying she hadn’t seen me standing there.

Later I found out that she had, but that she “knewinstinctively” I wasn’t one of  hisfriends. That was just one of the great things about Maggie. She was four yearsolder and much wiser than I was. Much nicer, too, as it turned out.

Herb L

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