A Jew In New York - Short Story by Adrian David

A Jew In New York

The gang leader wiped sweat off his clean-shaven head. He shook the canister of black spray paint as he was surrounded by four other members. He sprayed one line, then another. Soon there was a swastika on the front wall of the Old Broadway Synagogue. The Confederate flag tattoo glistened on his left arm. His T-shirt read: 6MWE.

“Voila!” He kissed his fingertips and then punched a fist in the air. “Death to kikes!”

The gang echoed his sentiment. “Death to kikes! Death to kikes!” One of them pulled out an iPhone and began live-streaming. They continued their chants and he zoomed in on the ominous swastika now boldly standing out the wall of the otherwise pristine stone synagogue.

The day had just begun—birds welcomed the morning, chirping in song. The gentle breeze caressed the trees and the sweet scent of the flowers permeated the air.  The city slowly came to life.

The dissonant slurs pierced the promise of a new day, disturbing the streets of Harlem.

The group stood proudly, glaring at their work.

“Hey!” A deep voice came from behind them.

The gang turned to find a tall, thirty-something man. The morning sun beamed on his olive skin.

“We’re putting the kikes in their place.” The leader stepped forward with a sneer. His pale cheeks puffed as he lit a cigarette. The cherry glowed against his palm. He dropped his hand to his side, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Got a fuckin’ problem with that?”

The man’s gaze fell upon the swastika emblazoned on the synagogue wall. He pointed to it, nostrils flaring. “That’s not right!”

The leader inched closer, squinted his eyes, and scanned the man’s Middle Eastern features. Furrowing his brows, he said in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’re not from around here, huh?”

“That’s right.” The man rubbed the scar on his forehead. “I was born and brought up in Israel, but I’ve been traveling around for quite some time now.”

“A Jew!” the leader snorted in disgust, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to face his gang. “And an immigrant at that!”

“Now I know why my Jewdar was going off as soon as he walked up.” A gang member smirked, rolling his eyes. He pointed a finger to the man’s nose. “But this kike’s schnoz isn’t big enough.”

“I can see you’re trying to offend me, but I’m not gonna take the bait.” The man backed off, his sandals brushing the ground. “Trust me, I’ve seen worse.”

“Oh, look here, the dirty Jew is pissed.” The leader, standing tall, puffed his chest. His lips twisted into a malicious smirk. “Are you going to cry? Or run home to your mom? Is she even in the States, migrant?”

The man stroked his grizzly beard. “You’re provoking me without reason.”

“Who the fuck said we don’t have a reason?” the gang member retorted. He clenched his jaw, glaring at the man. “You Jews killed our Lord and Savior! Filthy Christ killers!”

A vein throbbed on the man’s forehead. “If you guys were truly devout, you’d be spreading love, not vandalizing synagogues.” He ran his fingers through his thick, long locks. “Weren’t you supposed to love your neighbor as yourself? D’you feel the commandment has a clause?”

“Shut the fuck up!” The leader blew a cloud of smoke into his face, stubbing the cigarette out on his chest. “I wish I could burn you like they did to your kind in Auschwitz.”

A sharp, fiery pang in the man’s chest sent an adrenaline rush through his body. His throat tightened and his chin trembled. He reflexively pushed the leader, knocking him down onto the sidewalk by accident.

One of the gang members flexed his muscles in response. He cracked his knuckles before landing a sucker punch on the man’s face. The latter’s eye was on the verge of blackening.

The leader sprang to his feet and grabbed the man’s neck. Crinkling his nose, he spat on his face and pushed him to the ground. “Don’t you dare touch me, you piece of shit!”

Another member wrapped his hand around the man’s neck. The others had a forceful grip on his arms. The leader pummeled his stomach.

The man gasped as they rained blows on his body.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here before he dies!” A gang member wrung his hands and screamed as he ran toward their truck parked nearby.

The man lay collapsed, panting, gripping his stomach, hot pain pulsing behind his eyelids.

Footsteps retreated. Doors slammed. Within minutes, the truck tires squealed against the road as they raced off.

The man struggled to get up from the ground. His eyes welled with tears. He wiped the saliva and blood off his face with the back of a hand and dusted off his clothes.

His shoulders slumped as he staggered with heavy footsteps across the street.

***

The blissful calm of the park was a welcome contrast to the hatred he’d just experienced. The leaves in the trees swayed in the air as birds fluttered from branch to branch. A couple of old women warmed up, getting ready for their morning walk.

The man adjusted his disheveled hair and collapsed onto an empty bench, folding his arms. He stared at the grass and shook his head.

A lump formed in his throat.

Minutes later, a teenage girl dropped onto the bench beside him. She fidgeted with her smartphone; her gaze fixed on the screen.

Only when the man sighed did she look sideways to spot his blackening eye. She gasped, “Jesus Christ! You’re—”

He turned to face her with an exasperated expression.

“You’re in rough shape!” She widened her eyes. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m all right, thanks.” His lips slanted into a half-smile. He brushed a tear from his cheek before returning to his previous position. He hung his head, frustrated that he had to experience hate simply for being who he was—a Jew.

The consistent mocking wasn’t new, but the pain it caused never lessened. The bitter experience reopened old wounds. He slowly squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands.

The girl drew in a breath. She couldn’t help noticing the deep, obvious scar on his wrist—it was as if somebody drove a nail through it.

 

Adrian David writes ads by day and short stories by night. He dabbles in genres including suspense, psychological drama, slice-of-life, dark humor, and everything in between, from the mundane to the sublime.