The next morning Jim left early for the gym. Mae left the
apartment house, too. She took the kids to her sister's house, and
then she crossed the Hudson River to New York City.
She was going to the small part of the city known as the Upper
East Side. It was an area of beautiful houses, expensive apartment
buildings, and fine hotels. Some of the richest people in the
country lived on the blocks along the city's Central Park.
Two streets away, the buildings weren't quite so beautiful, but
they were still home to wealthy people. In front of each apartment
building, a uniformed doorman stood guard.
When she reached the tall building, she looked up, trying to
guess how many floors it had. She went through the beautiful
entrance hall to the elevator. On the fifteenth floor, she moved
down the line of doors.
She knocked on one and called politely, "Open the door,
Joe." There was no answer. She tried again, and again, but nobody
came to the door. "Joe, open this door now!" Mae shouted.
"You're not going to hide in your expensive apartment while
you turn my husband into a punching bag. I won't let you get
him hurt again!"
The door opened. "You'd better come in," said Joe Gould.
As she pushed past him, Mae's anger died. She had expected the
manager's home to be beautiful. But she looked around now at a
completely empty apartment.
Minutes later, she sat on a camping chair, drinking tea with Joe
and his wife Lucille. She hadn't expected this friendly welcome.
"Sorry," said Joe, pointing to the door. "People have to think
you're doing well."
"I thought. . ." said Mae.
"That's the plan," said Joe, touching his fine brown suit. "Show
people you're doing well, even if you're not. We sold the last of the
furniture last week," he continued, "so Jimmy could train."
"Why?" Mae asked.
4