Charles Gargiulo Farewell, Little Canada: An Excerpt

Farewell, Little Canada: An Excerpt

charles gargiulo

Within a couple of weeks of school starting another bombshell hit. City officials announced a whole bunch of new buildings were going to be torn down in Little Canada, including all the apartments on our side of Ford Street. This included the building that Al and Henry lived in on the corner of Ford and Austin Street. So, it was goodbye Henry. When his family moved to Lawrence, he was gone for good. Fortunately, Al and his family got a place on the other side of the North Common, about a half a mile away. Although he wasn’t going to be around every day, he was at least close enough that we could still get to see each other occasionally. But this news was the worst blow yet. Only a miracle could save the rest of Little Canada from the wrecking ball. I kept wondering who these “urban renewal” people were and how they could get away with this and why, WHY wasn’t anybody stopping them?

They had already started destroying things on the other side of the canal and farther down Moody Street, near Downtown, and now the number of buildings being abandoned or being readied for demolition was increasing like plague victims. People remaining in Little Canada must have felt like people in the Middle Ages when the Black Death hit, watching their neighbors dropping like flies and wondering when they and their loved ones were going to get it. We had no idea what was behind it or how to stop it.

I was afraid to visit my Aunt Rose because I didn’t know what to say to comfort her. She wasn’t stupid, so I knew she must have figured out our backs were against the wall. “Urban renewal” was almost on our doorstep. I’m not proud to say I avoided visiting her for about a week after the Ford Street families were thrown out. I was so depressed about everything that I was afraid she would see how upset I was and it would make her feel even worse.

More people were leaving all the time. It seemed like every week when I did my tonic bottle collection route there would be more empty apartments where families moved out. Very few new families took those vacant places. It was not only sad, it started to feel creepy. Not only were we surrounded by abandoned and boarded-up buildings, the properties that had people living in them seemed to be slowly dying. Tenements once filled with tons of families bustling up and down the stairs greeting each other in the hallways and streets now had a trickle of people living in them. Empty apartments were inhabited by the memories of friendly neighbors. People who greeted each other on the streets and talked about all kinds of things now just barely said hello. If they stopped at all it was to tell the other person that they had received their notice to move or to share stories about who they knew in the neighborhood who were gone or going.

Businesses started moving out. Ouellette’s Diner closed, which meant Harvey must have been looking for another place where he could buy meal tickets for Captain Jack. The stupid tiny gas station closed, which meant Mr. Berra had to find some other place to terrorize kids. And then the Holiday Diner shut down. That was my favorite place to eat and where I got to see Al’s Mom while she was working.

One place that was busy though, was the stupid “Urban Renewal” office. Families who were being thrown out had to go there after they got their notice so these creeps could “help” them relocate. The worst part of that damn place was that it was on the corner of Austin and Moody streets, in direct eyeshot of my Aunt Rose when she sat looking out the second-floor window in her Austin Street apartment. She could see all the people being forced out of Little Canada marching into and out of that place to get sent on their way. They might as well have put up a big neon sign flashing in her face saying, “We’re Coming to Get You Rose, and your little Doggie too!”

I finally got the nerve to visit her and, sure enough, when I got there she was sitting in her chair by the window, clutching her rosary beads, with her eyes fixed on the Urban Renewal office. Even though it was only a little over a week since I saw her, she looked like she was a lot older. I’m sure you think I must be imagining it, but I’m telling you she had aged years in just that time. There were dark circles under her eyes, her hair had more silver streaks, and her face was sagging so much it looked like she was melting.

But when I heard her voice, it really broke my heart. I could barely hear her speak when she told me Uncle Clarence and Daisy were out shopping. She sounded as weak as somebody who had been pushing a boulder up a mountain and had no strength or energy left. She asked me how my broken arm was and how school was going, so I lied and told her they both were going very well. I also didn’t tell her anything about Al or Henry being kicked out.

She told me she had missed watching me playing outside on Austin Street since I broke my arm. I told her not to worry and that I would be out there again doing things as soon as it healed. I felt so bad because I knew that the main reason I wasn’t out there as often was because so many of my friends were gone. In fact, I only had Richie, Paul, Billy, and Dave left. The day I visited her I learned that Donna, Frenchie, and Bum were all moving. They’d be gone in two weeks. Bum’s father would still be running Benny’s, but they were moving to Centralville across the river. Donna’s family was moving to Shaughnessy Terrace, the same tough housing project where Dicky relocated. Unlike Dicky, however, Donna could take care of herself. Frenchie and his family decided to move back to Quebec. I still hadn’t taken this all in when I was visiting my Aunt Rose. I was miserable about losing so many friends. We had the best gang in history, and it was being blown apart by this lousy Urban Renewal. But as bad as that made me feel, it was nothing compared to the pain and fear I felt about them taking our building and forcing my Aunt Rose out. This was killing her. I could see it.

I asked her if the priest was still coming to see her, and she said she was very upset with him. She said that when she asked him if they were finally going to stop throwing people out, he told her that it was up to God. I saw her face get red, and for a moment she got angry and snapped, “Up to God! The nerve! I told him that was blasphemous. I told him God had nothing to do with it. PEOPLE were doing this, and the church didn’t care and was letting them do it and hiding behind God. They knew what was happening, and they lied to us

when we kept asking them if our homes were in danger of being taken. I told him to get out and never come back and that God would judge them someday.” Then she started crying.

Just as I started to hug her, Uncle Clarence and Daisy opened the door to the apartment. They both rushed over. Uncle Clarence already knew what was wrong as he patted my head and kissed Aunt Rose’s cheek and told her that somebody downtown told him that certain buildings would not be touched, and we needed to pray that our building would be spared. He heard that the Club Passé Temps and the row houses on Cabot were not going down, and since they were close to us maybe we’d be okay. He was told that was definite.

This seemed to calm Aunt Rose a tiny bit, and then he said, “I just bought some food, and I’m going to bake my special apple pie that you love. I got one of Daisy’s favorite soup bones at the market, so hang around Charlie and we’ll have a special dessert together.” Daisy slowly nuzzled up to Aunt Rose like she always did. After Aunt Rose petted her, she came to me so I could pet her, but I noticed she didn’t bound over like she usually did because she seemed sad. After I petted her, she went right back to Aunt Rose and stayed by her side every second, instead of hanging out with Uncle Clarence in the kitchen while he was making dinner as she usually would do.

When I went home that night, I felt like my whole world was falling apart. It was a real live nightmare, and I felt helpless. I started praying myself, begging God to help us and spare my Aunt Rose, protect my Mom and give me the strength to not lose my temper at school or with my friends. I tried to focus on the one important bit of good news I heard from Uncle Clarence. He said that the row houses on Cabot Street were not coming down, which meant my best friend Richie was safe because that’s where he lived.

When I visited Richie one Saturday morning, his oldest sister Arlene answered the door and I knew something was wrong right away because she didn’t insult me like she always did but quietly let me in and said that Richie was in his room. The house was very quiet. Richie’s place was never quiet. Upstairs in his bedroom, Richie was sitting on his bed doing nothing. He looked up and said, “Did you hear about it?” I said, “No, what’s going on? Arlene looked like she didn’t hate my guts, and you look like you’re waiting to go the electric chair.” Richie said they had to move out. When I said I thought they were safe because the Urban Renewal guys were not supposed to tear down his row house, he said that they were only going to chop off the last two apartments nearest Ford Street and leave the others standing. Richie’s apartment was one of those two nearest Ford Street. Bye, bye Richie.

My face must have turned pale, like Casper the Ghost, and I felt like I would faint. It was like I was in another bad movie. This was crazy. How many rotten things could go wrong? With all the things I had to worry about, one of the only bits of good news I had heard was that my best friend Richie’s home was safe. That at least I would be able to count on having him around. But as soon as I let down my guard and took his being there for granted, “WHAM!” like Charlie Brown I landed hard on my butt after Lucy pulled away the football . . . again.

It was so sad. Saying nothing for the longest time, we sat on his bed with our heads hanging, staring at the floor. It was like we were both hoping that maybe if we were quiet, we’d wake up and find out it was just a nightmare. Then when it became clear it was real, I think we both began thinking about how much we meant to each other and how much this was going to change our lives.

My mind replayed memories of our times together, meeting him for the first time, going to Harvey’s Used Book Store, hanging out with the gang, my fight with Roger, getting grab bags and peashooters at Benny’s, hanging out with the rats at the Royal Theatre, running from crazy Mr. Berra, almost drowning together in the canal, fighting with his sisters, hearing The Beatles for the first time and planning to become rock stars. I shared everything with him, and it felt like we were a team that could make magic happen when we put our minds to it. And that’s what kept haunting the wonderful memories running through my head, realizing that, although I was grateful for being able to remember what we did, I now had to wipe out the part of my brain that looked forward to all the things I imagined we would do together in the future.

Richie was now going to join my Dad, Midnight, Noel, Ronnie, Dicky, Henry, Bum, Donna, Frenchie, and Bill as people no more real to me than characters on a movie screen. Memories are overrated. I would much rather have a future with the people I love than a past. And it was getting harder to feel secure about having a future with anyone that I loved.

It didn’t take long for Richie to move. Within a week or so, his dad was able to find a place way out on the other side of Billerica. It might as well have been Australia because I was never going to be able to hang out with him living that far away. I spent as much time with him as I could before he moved. We hung out a little bit with Paul, David, and Billy, but we mostly tried to spend as much time alone together as we could. I won’t get into all the things we said to each other, because we shared a lot of things about really personal stuff. The kinds of things guys usually never share with each other like family things that worried us or how scared we were about lots of stuff we didn’t want other people to know. I won’t give away his secrets, but Richie was the first person I swore to secrecy and talked about my mom’s drinking. Obviously, he couldn’t fix it, but somehow just being able to know I could trust somebody that much meant a lot to me. Especially, knowing that he cared. About both me and my mom.

The day before he left I took him over to Poitras Hobby Shop, his second favorite store, across the street from his favorite store Harvey’s on Merrimack Street, so that I could buy him a going away present. He picked out a “Creature of the Black Lagoon” plastic model after we wandered this cool place that had a million different expertly built and painted models on display as well as electric trains and other cool hobby stuff. After that we went over to see Harvey.

Harvey’s was empty when we dropped in, and it allowed us a lot of time to hang around chatting with him. It was amazing all the memories we had hanging out with ol’ Harvey, and we laughed or got choked up over just about every one of them. Harvey told Richie how great he was and let him know that he would always have a special place in his heart because he was his first regular customer when he opened his old store on Aiken Street. After talking for at least two hours, Captain Jack popped in to make Richie’s last visit to Harvey’s perfect. When Captain Jack found out Richie was moving away, he pulled an old silver dollar out of his pocket and told Richie it was a good luck coin he had kept from an old treasure chest he found a long time ago, and that he wanted Richie to have it. He said to keep it and give it to somebody else he met someday who was sad and needed a little cheering up. Richie hugged him and started crying and said he didn’t want to move, that he loved Little Canada and all of us. We all did our best to console Richie, and finally Harvey

was able to get Richie feeling better with that special gift he had of knowing how to say the exact right things. I don’t need to tell you that Harvey wouldn’t let him leave without making him pick out a bunch of free comics and 45 rpm record singles.

Our last stop on the way back to his home was dropping in one last time together at Benny’s, where I first met Richie, so that we could bug Bum’s old man one more time, hemming and hawing over picking out penny candy. Of course, we bought ourselves a famous Benny’s rip-off grab bag on the way out. We hung out the rest of the day at Richie’s place, and after going on about how much we meant to each other I said goodbye to his mom and dad and then, to my surprise, realized I was even going to miss his snooty sisters as we shook hands and wished each other well without even saying one nasty thing to each other. Now they were gone, and the shadow spread even larger over Little Canada.

SECTION VII

S PORTS