Saturday, after the excitement of my first week at SIA, I treated myself to a movie. The Day The Earth Stood Stillwas playing at the Loewe’s Spooner. For me, the most unforgettable thing about that movie was the magic phrase that stopped the giant robot from destroying the girl, and the whole world: “Klaatu Barada Nikto.”
On my way home, the song The Little White Cloud That Criedwas flowing out of B&J’s music store. Johnnie Ray’s voice had a new sound that wouldn’t let go of me. I leaned against a parked car by the store, absorbing every note and every word. Even if I didn’t have a phonograph, there was no way I could go home without that record. I spent every penny I had scrounged, but when I got home with my prize, all I could do was stare at it.
Sunday, I was in luck. Harold disappeared for the whole day, probably on a drunken binge. For breakfast, I fortified myself with a bowel of Hot Ralston, the cereal of Tom Mix. With no one in the apartment to stop me, I tiptoed into Harold’s room and borrowed his portable phonograph, took it to my room, and played my record. I sang my heart out with Johnny Ray.
Before I had a chance to return the phonograph, Harold came home drunk. I was hoping he was too drunk to notice it missing, but my luck had run out. He screamed from his room, “Where’s my phonograph? I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him! If that little Jew prick took it, I’ll kill him.”
Harold got to my room before I could escape. He stood over me and saw the phonograph. “I knew it. I knew it!” His eyes were dripping with anger and looking for blood. “You fucking mental retard! Touch my things will ya!”
Under my breath I kept repeating, “Klaatu Barada Nikto... Klaatu Barada Nikto!” I must have been doing it wrong, because it didn’t work...
Harold heard me whispering the strange words. “What the fuck is that? What are you, some kind of imbecile?”
The towering monster came at me, “You little Jew scum! When I’m through with you, you’ll never touch anything of mine again.” He hauled off and whacked me across my face. It was like being hit with a plank of wood. I picked up his phonograph to protect myself, but still, he came at me. Without thinking, I shoved the phonograph into Harold’s chest. He wrapped his arms around it to keep it from falling, and I ran out of the house, leaving him dazed and not quite understanding what had just happened.
I heard Harold yelling from behind me, “Don’t bother to come back. If you do, I’ll kill you!”