Her's? You Saw It?"

Chicago, Illinois

June 15, 1944 

“…Hi! This the Rizzo home?”

“Yes,” in a thick, Italian accent, “this Mrs. Rizzo.”

“Mrs. Rizzo, hi! This is Mitch Lipensky, a friend of Frankie’s from Baylor… Is Frankie there?”

“Yes. I call him for you.”

“…Mitchie! Hi! How’ya, pal?”

“Fine. How’ya doin’?”

“Great! Went to the movies this afternoon with a couple’a guys I know, an’ we met these two girls an…”

“Yeah, me, too,” cutting him off. “I went with Norman.” Whispering, “Frankie, I can’t talk no louder ’cause my mom’n’dad are in the next room an’ they’ll hear, but tonight, after we ate, my dad called me in the kitchen an’ told me all ’bout… it.”

“‘It’?”

“Yeah! ‘It’! You know! ‘It’! What you’n’me’s been talkin’ ’bout.” Speaking even softer, “’bout girls’n’stuff!”

“Oh! Yeah? No kiddin’!”

“Yeah! An’ he even showed me pictures…”

“Pictures! No shit! An’ you were able to see it?”

“Kind’a. In a way. But they were drawings an’ you couldn’t really see… you know, it. But he explained lots’a stuff to me, an’ you know what?”

“No, what?”

“Ol’ Skorp’s a dick! He don’t know shit ’bout girls! You know all that stuff he told us ’bout the names of, uh, girl’s things?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, none of it’s true . A girl’s pisser ain’t really called…” the pitch of his voice dropping even lower, “…a cunt.”

“What’s it called, then?”

His mind suddenly blank, the words vulva, vagina, womb, penis all forgotten, but…

Room. Remembering the word he’d mispronounced, “A girls pisser’s really called a room.”

“A ‘room’?”

“Yeah.”

Well, Frank Rizzo thought, if guys wanna put their pricks into a room, why not? It kind of made sense to him.

“Mitchell, who are you talking to?”

Her voice, coming from behind, startled him. “Frankie, Mom. I’m telling Frankie ’bout our new baby, an’ stuff.”

“Say hello to him for me.”

“Frankie, my mom says hello.”

“Yeah,” impatient to hear more, “tell her hello for me, too… What baby?”

“One’a the things my dad told me is that him’n’my mom’s gonna have a baby. An’ that’s why he wanted to explain ’bout girls’n’stuff’n’where babies come from. An’ ’cause my mom’s gonna have a baby, she ain’t goin’ back to work, so I can’t go back to Baylor next year.”

“Mitchie, I was gonna call an’ tell you that, too.”

“No shit! Your mom’s gonna have a baby, too?”

“No, dopey! That I ain’t goin’ back either. My pa’s bought a little store over on 63rd, an’ they’ll need the extra money, an’ also, they need me to help out there.”

“Boy, Frankie, I’m really glad that I ain’t goin’ back, then. Wow! It sure would be tough bein’ there without my ol’ dago pal.”

“Mitch, I been thinkin’ it’ll be real easy for you to come an’ visit. You know where Western Avenue is?”

“Yeah, it’s on the other side of the park.”

“Well, all’s you gotta do is take the streetcar south on Western to 63rd an’ I’d meet you there, an’ I know you’d have a real good time ’cause I told this girl that I met at the movies today all ’bout’j’ya an’ she—her name’s Gina—an’ she let me touch her titties in the movie an’ she want’s’a meet my good lookin’ Jew pal.”

“No! Really? Come on! This girl you only met today let you…” whispering, “touch her titties?”

“Yeah, really! An’ guess what else.” Not waiting for him to guess, “She lets guys see her, uh, room,” whispering, “if the guy’ll show her his prick, an’ she knows Jewish guys got different kind’s’a pricks then us Italian guys and she don’t know no Jewish guys so she’s never seen a Jewish prick. So guess what?”

“Uh…”

“Seein’ as you’re the only Jewish prick I know, I told her ’bout’j’ya an’ she want’s’a see yours an’ she’ll show you her’s.”

Disbelieving, “Nah!”

“Yeah! Really!”

“Really, Frankie!” Mitchell shouted, then looked over his shoulder to see if his parents had heard, then, lowering his voice once again, “She said she’ll really show me her’s if I show her mine?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe she was kiddin’ you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too… Then, when I was walkin’ her home after the movies, she said I should come into her hallway with her so we did, and I did…”

“You did, what?” Mitchell asked.

“She asked to see it…”

“No! Really?”

“Yeah, really, so…”

“So?”

“I showed it to her.”

“You did?” Mitchell laughs. “You whipped it out an’ showed it to her?”

“Yeah! Of course! Sure! An’ she did, too.”

“No shit! She showed hers to you? You saw it? Wow! An’ you really think she’ll do it with me, too?”

“Yeah, Mitch, like I told you, Gina really want’s’a meet you! An’ I’ll tell you somethin’ else: If she likes you, most likely she’ll even fuck with you.”

“Jesus, Frankie…” Even if the girl/female had to, as his father had said, “be in the right position”—whatever that meant—still, the thought of actually seeing a girl’s—whatever it was called—was unbelievably exciting. The thought of actual intercourse, however, to Mitchell, was still yucky. “You, uh, going to do it with her, uh…” whispering again, “fuck with her?”

“Yeah, Mitch,” he said without hesitation, “I will! Soon’s I can!”

Thinking a second, “Yes,” Mitchell said, “guess I would, too.” Though, truly, he wasn’t really sure he would. “How’s, uh, whats’er name look? She pretty? You’ll call me an’ let me know all ’bout it after you do it?”

“Pretty? Gina’s okay, I guess… Yeah, sure I’ll call you, Mitchie. An’ remember, anytime you wanna come here you just let me know, an’ probably you’ll be able to be fucked, too. But certainly, least ways, you’ll get to see what a c… room looks like.”

Knowing they were nearing the end of their conversation, “Yeah,” Mitchell said rather quietly. “I’ll call you an’ let you know when…”

Their common denominator had been Baylor, but with Baylor no longer a factor in their lives, both boys, one from a Catholic culture and one from a Hebrew culture, sensed this as a wide fork in the road of their friendship.

“Well… guess I’ll be seein’ you then, Mitchie.”

“Yeah, Frankie… take it easy.”

Forcing a chuckle, “I’ll take it any way I can get it.”

“Yeah, me, too…”