Some customers would look at his bulk, hear his thick accent, see the grubby clothes and say, ‘What a grease monkey.’ Sometimes he heard their mut...erings. The resentment built until his father, still in Israel, asked, ‘Marshall, do they spit on you? Do they call you a dirty kike? A zhid? That’s what the Russians called us after the war. Have they threatened to kill you?’ ‘No, none of that. Just dirty looks. Half of them think I don’t even speak English.’ ‘And Marshall, do they pay you?’ ‘Yes.’. This time, Melissa called out firmly, “You naughty little pony. I’ll teach you to misbehave.” With that, she flicked out the whip, landing a firm stroke across both of his butt cheeks. He jerked his head up and resumed his speed. Melissa could see the red mark from her lash stroke. It was much more clearly defined than her earlier efforts.She smiled at his renewed spirit and called out, “Get those knees up. You call that a trot?” She crouched down a little bit in order to land the next whip. More

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