Ron Patimkin Character Analysis

“I had my nose fixed.”
“What was the matter with it?”
“It was bumpy.”
“A lot?”
“No,” she said, “I was pretty. Now I’m prettier. My brother’s having his fixed in the fall.”
“Does he want to be prettier?”
She didn’t answer and walked ahead of me again.
“I don’t mean to sound facetious. I mean why’s he doing it?”
“He wants to…unless he becomes a gym teacher…but he won’t.” she said. “We all look like my father.”
“Is he having his fixed?”
“Why are you so nasty?”
“I’m not. I’m sorry.”

Up on the beach there were beautiful bare-skinned Negresses, and none of them moved; but suddenly we were moving our ship, out of the harbor, and the Negresses moved slowly down to the shore and began to throw leis at us and say “Goodbye, Columbus…goodbye, Columbus…goodbye…” and though we did not want to go, the little boy and I, the boat was moving and there was nothing we could do about it, and he shouted at me that it was my fault and I shouted it was his for not having a library card, but we were wasting our breath, for we here further and further from the island and soon the natives were nothing at all.

Here you need a little of the gonif in you. You know what that means? Gonif?”
“Thief,” I said.
“You know more than my own kids. They’re goyim, my kids, that’s how much they understand.”

“Ronald, get him the silver patterns.” Ron turned away and Mr. Patimkin said, “When I got married we had forks and knives from the five and ten. This kid needs gold to eat off,” but there was no anger; far from it.

There was goose flesh on Ron’s veiny arms as the Voice continued. “We offer ourselves to you then, world, and come at you in search of Life. And to you, Ohio State, to you Columbus, we say thank you, thank you and goodbye. We’ll miss you, in the fall, in the winter, in the spring, but some day we shall return. Till then, goodbye, Ohio State, goodbye, red and white, goodbye, Columbus… goodbye, Columbus…goodbye…”

Ron’s eyes were closed. The band was upending its last truckload of nostalgia and I tiptoed from the room, in step with the 2163 members of the Class of ‘57.

I closed my door, but then opened it and looked back at Ron: he was still humming on his bed.

Then he looked at me. “Whatever my Buck wants is good enough for me. There’s no business too big it can’t use another head.”

I smiled, though not directly at him, and beyond I could see Leo sopping up champagne and watching the three of us; when he caught my eye he made a sign with his hand, a circle with his thumb and forefinger, indicating, “That a boy, that a boy!”