The Invisible Wall Read Online Free Page A

Mr. Turnbull was still seated outside, and he threw me a beseeching look as I went past him into the shop. I don’t think I even noticed him.
    Inside, I stood uncertainly. The shop was empty. From the back room came the sound of men’s voices, hoarse guffaws, the clinking of glasses, and Mrs. Turnbull’s own hoarse, almost masculine voice dominating the others.
    I tapped on the glass counter with my penny to get her attention, timidly at first, then louder and bolder, until one of the men must have heard me and peered around the doorway, because I heard him say, “There’s a little Jew boy in th’ shop.”
    â€œThe bloody little buggers.” Mrs. Turnbull’s voice came to me, bitter and complaining. “They’re always bothering me. I don’t get a minute’s peace.”
    She appeared in a moment, shuffling in slippers, a large, heavy woman with thick arms folded over a massive bosom, fleshy face creased with displeasure, her breath smelling of beer.
    â€œNow what do you want?” she snapped. “Y’ought to be in bed this time o’ night, instead of bothering me. You’re always bothering me, the whole lot of you. Go on and pick what you want, and don’t take all night at it. I’ve got lots of other things to do.”
    I gazed down through the glass case at the assortment of sweets, with the usual dilemma over what choice to make, but more frightened and flustered than ever at her impatience. My eyes went from one to the other, the clear mixed gums, the aniseed balls, the licorice allsorts, the Kali suckers (with a balloon included), the Devonshire caramels, the Turkish Delights, the bonbons, the humbugs, the big humbugs, the small humbugs, and the chocolate dragées. All the time she chafed and muttered, and finally burst out savagely, “I’ll gi’ ye five seconds more.”
    I jumped at the sound of her voice, and in sheer panic made a random choice, the humbugs, the large ones. She filled a bag with them, took my penny, and almost pushed me out, and as I left, her gaze must have fallen on her husband, and reminded her of him, because I heard her mutter, “There’s him, too.”
    Outside, I crossed back to our side, but paused to open the bag and pop one of the humbugs in my mouth. It was so big it caused both my cheeks to bulge, and I slowed my pace as I went on, because I wanted to finish it before I entered the house. I had no intention of letting my brothers and sisters know that I’d come into possession of a bag of humbugs and be forced to share it with them. I immediately thrust the bag deep down inside my trouser pocket.
    But by the time I reached my house I was in trouble. I’d only managed to whittle the humbug down to a fraction of its original size, and my cheeks still bulged. Yet I knew I could not delay entering much longer. Sounds came out of the house that were ominous, my mother’s angry voice berating my brothers, and the latter wailing protests. I knew it was about me.
    There was only one thing to do. I took a deep breath and swallowed it, nearly choking as it entered my throat. I managed to gulp it down, though, and it sank into my stomach like a rock. Then, wiping off the telltale marks from my mouth with the back of a dirty hand, I went in.
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    MY MOTHER WAS STILL SHOUTING at them, blaming them for letting me out of their sight. They were sniffling and protesting, and she was preparing to go out herself and search for me when I walked in. I stood for a moment blinking in the light, unseen as yet, and listening to the argument raging.
    It was Saul who saw me first. “There’s the bloody little sod,” he shrieked.
    All eyes instantly turned on me. Joe glared hatefully, then strode up toward me and gave me a clout on the side of the head. “You bloody little bugger. Why’d you run off?”
    Saul would have followed suit with another clout