I left the church and headed down the hill to meet Sal’s bus. I waited for a little while, but then it came rumbling along. He stopped and opened his doors.
“Hi, son. Where were you this morning?”
“I couldn’t take your bus,” I said.
“Well, come on.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand for me to come aboard.
“I can’t,” I said. I think my face told him something was wrong.
“What’s the matter?” he said as he climbed out from behind the wheel. He got off the bus and crouched down in front of me. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t take your bus no more,” I said. I fought back my tears.
“Why not? What happened?”
“I got lent out. Mom got sick and I got lent out.” I couldn’t hold back the tears.
Sal put his big arms around me and hugged me. “It’s all right, son. You go right ahead and cry. It’s all right.”
I cried into his chest. “But…but…boys aren’t supposed to cry.”
“Anyone who feels hurt or sad is supposed to cry.”
“Even boys?”
“Even boys.” He hugged me. “Who’s this?” he asked. He lifted Doggie from the top of the bag.
“That’s Doggie.” I sniffled back my tears.
“Well, hello, Doggie.” He boomed out a laugh. “Where’d you get him?”
“From the Home of the Angels.”
“Oh! So he’s one of us.” He tweaked his nose.
“Yeah, he’s one of us.” I smiled. “Hey, Sal…” I turned serious.
“Yes.”
“I ain’t gonna get to see you no more.”
“Why not? You’re seeing me now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. But…”
“Yeah. But. Nothing. Your mom won’t be sick forever. Until she’s well, I’ll see you right here. Whenever you get the chance.”
“I can see you every day!”
“Sure, why not? You see, you got yourself all upset for nothing.” He hugged me once more. “I have to go now. We don’t want all these people late for dinner.” He laughed. He was referring to the people on his bus.
“No, we don’t want that.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. He tweaked Doggie’s nose again.
“All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He climbed aboard his bus and slipped back into his seat. He winked as he closed the doors. I watched Sal’s bus until it went up and over the rise in the road. Even though I could no longer see it, I had the strangest feeling part of me was still on the bus with Sal. I shook my body. I hadn’t ever felt anything like that before. I crossed the street to catch the bus that would take me to the Fraziers’.
“I thoughts I heard someone come in,” Martha said as she poked her head into the hallway.
“It’s only me,” I said.
“Whatcha mean, only you?” She chuckled. “Gets ready for dinner,” she said. “We’re gonna have Master Donald’s fish.”
“Oh, yeah! How’s my shark?”
“Land sakes!” she laughed. “He’s fine. I fed him some bread, and it’s like he done never eats before.”
“Oh, good!” I scrambled to my feet and went into the bedroom to get ready for dinner.
By the time I reached the dining room, everyone was already at the table. Martha had placed a bowl of soup down for me. I started to eat.
“I saw the shark on the porch, Jennings,” Mr. Frazier said.
I beamed with excitement. I was sure Mr. Frazier would be proud of me.
“After dinner, I’ll take you down to the bay and we’ll throw him back.”
I was shocked. My face showed it.
“We can’t keep a shark in the house. He won’t live.”
“I tried to tell him he couldn’t keep it,” Donald added. “But what can you do? He’s just a dumb kid.”
“Now, be nice,” Mrs. Frazier said
“A shark needs salt water, Jennings. He won’t last in that pail.”
“But—”
“Donald will take you fishing again, and he’ll teach you how to catch a real fish. Like the one he caught.”
I glared at Donald. He put his face into his soup bowl. He made some slurping sounds.
“Better fish?” I said.
“Yes,” Mr. Frazier said. “He’ll teach you how to catch a better fish.”
“We can go tomorrow,” Donald said.
“No, thanks.”
“Don’t you like fishing?” Mrs. Frazier asked.
“Yes, ma’am. But what good is going if you can’t tell nobody you went?”
“What’s that?” Mr. Frazier asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled. I finished eating my soup.
Martha served the fish. I shot another glance in Donald’s direction, but it was no use. His head was still in his food.
We were nearing the end of dinner when my elbow slipped from the edge of the table and my head fell. I was falling off to sleep without realizing it.
“Martha,” Mr. Frazier said, “why not take Jennings to bed? I’ll take care of the shark myself.”
Martha guided me away from the table. My eyes were almost closed. She led me to the bedroom, where I flopped down onto the bed. She began to undress me.
“I unpacked the bag you brought home, Master Jennings.”
My eyes popped open.
“Here he is.” She chuckled as she handed me Doggie.
I took him from her outstretched hand and cuddled him to my cheek.
“Land sakes,” she laughed. “Now I gots me two babies to care for.”
I heard her chuckles fade into my dreams.
I saw Sal after school every day. I could only be with him for about five minutes. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I told him about the Fraziers and about Martha. I told him about my room with the little bathroom, and about the fireplace. It was good to share stories with Sal; he understood everything I was saying and everything I was feeling. He remembered what it was like to be alone.
One afternoon Sister Gerard gave me two shopping bags full of clothing.
“I don’t recognize any of these things, Sister,” I said. “Did George bring them?”
“No, Jennings. I sent a note home with some of the boys in your class who were about your size,” she said. “Their mothers sent those things for you.”
“Wow!” I said. “They’re really nice.” I looked through the shirts and pants in the bag.
“They’re not new,” she said, “but they’ll keep you warm.”
“They’re new to me, Sister. Are all these things for me?”
“Yes, of course.”
I’d never had so many things that were mine and mine alone. I always had to share my things with Larry. No doubt I’d share these things, too, when I got home.
My head was full of dreams of how nice I was going to look. I walked the dark streets toward the Fraziers’ house. The smell of burnt wood in the air made everything seem wonderful. When I reached the house, I went straight to the kitchen and Martha.
“Well, now,” she said as she held up a dark brown coat to get a better look at it. “Aren’t you gonna be the country gentleman.”
Martha took both bags from me and sent me to clean up for dinner. I went to my bedroom to talk to Doggie.
“And now I won’t have to wear any of these raggy things anymore,” I told him. “’Cept for my shoes, of course.”
He was very happy for me. He couldn’t wait to see what I looked like all dressed up. I couldn’t either.
In the morning I put on a pair of dark blue pants and a green shirt with two little horses on the pocket. The brown coat Martha first looked at had a belt that tied in front. It was warm and fit pretty well.
Martha saw me to the front door and gave me a kiss.
“You be sure ‘n remember what everyone says. You hear?”
“I will.”
“Martha wants to hears what peoples say about her baby.”
> I threw her a kiss when I reached the end of the front walk. She laughed and slapped both of her hands on her thighs.
I took the bus to school. I imagined all the people on the bus must have thought I looked real nice. I couldn’t wait to show Sal.
I had to wait about fifteen minutes for his bus to come. It finally did. Sal stepped off the bus and walked past me. He put his hand over his eyes as though he were blocking out the sunlight. He strained to find something. He turned around and saw me.
“Oh, there you are!” he boomed out with laughter. “I didn’t recognize you.”
I couldn’t contain my smile.
“Why, you look terrific,” he said. “Turn around. Let me get a good look.”
I turned full circle.
“You really think I look nice?”
He pinched my cheek and crouched down in front of me. “You look wonderful!” he said. “Now, you go on up to school. I want to watch my son from here.”
“All right.”
He gave me a hug and held me for a moment longer than he usually did. He didn’t know it, but I could have stayed in his arms forever.
I dashed across Main Street and walked up the hill.
There were five or six boys from my class standing by the black iron fence in front of the school. I knew as I approached they saw me and noticed my nice clothes. One of the boys poked another in the ribs and made a gesture with his head for him to look at me. I smiled.
“Hey, Burch!” he yelled. “You’re wearing my coat.”
“Do you like it?” I asked as I reached him.
Some of the boys began laughing.
“If you like some beggar kid wearing your clothes, I guess I like it.”
They all began laughing.
“Look at the beggar boy wearing our clothes,” one of the boys shouted to some others in the school yard.
My eyes filled with tears, but I fought them off. I bit down on my lip to keep it from trembling.
“Hey, rag picker! Don’t you have anything of your own? You got my pants on,” a boy said from the back row.
The kids had me fully encircled. As each kid insulted me, the laughs grew louder. A kid stuck his hand out and grabbed my shirt collar.
“You got my shirt, beggar. Take it off.”
I slapped at his hand. He punched me full in the face. As I hurled backward into some of the kids behind me, I bit into my lip. The blood spurted out and down my chin. I regained my feet and lunged at him. Another kid grabbed my arm and spun me around. The crowd parted as I hit the boy who spun me. I caught him on the top of his head. He pushed back at me, knocking me to the ground. I could hear the chants “Beggar! Beggar!” as I toppled backward off the curb into the gutter. My left hand and wrist struck a car’s license plate, and a gush of blood shot from my wrist. I gathered myself up and began tearing at the belt tie of the coat until it freed me. I ripped off the coat and flung it into the jeering crowd. My blood splattered over the faces of some of the kids nearest to me. The chanting stopped. I tore open the front of my shirt. Blood was everywhere. I had the shirt half off when Sal’s arms closed around me.
“I got you, son. I got you.”
He lifted me up and turned me in one motion. I came down with my face flush against his chest. I cried uncontrollably. The blood from my wrist poured all over his shoulder and down his back.
“Get the hell out of my way,” he yelled at someone.
He carried me into the school.
“What happened?” I heard the voice of Sister Regina.
“I don’t know,” Sal said. “I need a towel or something.”
“Take him in here,” someone else said.
Sal laid me down on a couch. There was a nurse over me. She was looking at my wrist. “This’ll need stitching.”
I couldn’t speak, I was crying too hard. I had a difficult time catching my breath.
“Shhhh. Try to calm down,” Sal said. He held me in his arms and rocked me.
A policeman came in with a boy from my class. “This kid said they were teasing him. Calling him a beggar. Who is he?”
“He’s my son!” Sal said angrily.
“Let’s get him to the hospital,” the nurse said.
Sal lifted me in his arms. “This is some damn school you got here,” he said. “A bunch of dirty rotten kids.”
He carried me out of the school and through a huge crowd of kids. He placed me in the back of the police car and got in after me. We drove off.
Sal stayed with me until Mr. Frazier came.
“Sal…why did they do that?” I asked.
“I don’t know, son. Sometimes it’s just easier to be mean than it is to be kind, I guess.”
He held me for a long time in his massive arms.
“I love you,” I said into his chest. I said it so softly I was sure he couldn’t hear me.
“Come on, son,” Mr. Frazier said. “I’ll take you home.”
“I don’t have a home,” I said.
“I mean, to my home. Martha is waiting for you. She’s very worried about you.”
“Come on, son. Go with Mr. Frazier,” Sal said. He gave me one last hug.
I got to my feet and left with Mr. Frazier.
As the car pulled into the driveway, Martha came running from the house.
“My baby! My baby!” she shouted.
I got out of the car and into Martha’s arms.
“What did they do to my baby?” she cried.
“They didn’t like my clothes, Martha,” I said. “They called me a beggar.” I began to cry again.
Martha held me. “It’s all your fault,” she shouted at Mr. Frazier.
“My fault!” He was shocked.
“It’s not Mr. Frazier’s fault,” I said. “He wasn’t there.”
“Martha knows he wasn’t there. Buts he shoulda been,” she huffed. She was angry. “You think all you gots to do is take a boy in ‘n stick him in a spare room, ‘n that’s enough. Well, it’s not! Yous is supposed to see to the things he needs. Ah! Gowan.” She huffed again and waved a hand at Mr. Frazier in disgust.
“It wasn’t his fault,” I said to Martha as she took me into the house.
“It is my fault!” he yelled. He walked toward us with his head down and moving side to side. “Martha’s right. It is my fault, son. I’m sorry.”
“But—”
“No buts, Jennings. Tomorrow, or when you feel better, we’ll go to the store and buy you all the things you need. All right?”
“All right!”
“I’m sorry I talks to you—” Martha began to say to him.
Mr. Frazier put up his hand. He waved at her to stop talking. “You were right, Martha. I’m sorry I didn’t see it myself. Thank you for telling me.”
“Now, little boy. You gots to get to bed. Martha made you some soup.”
She took me into the bedroom.
“Wait a minute, Martha.”
I went to the closet and opened the door. I pulled down every stitch of clothing Sister Gerard had given me. I threw them into a pile in the middle of the room. Martha stood speechless. I gathered them up in my arms.
“Does you wants me to help you?”
“No, Martha. I want to do this myself.”
I carried the clothes through the kitchen to the trash bin in the pantry. I threw them in.
Mr. Frazier kept his word. A few days later he took me shopping. He bought me pants, and shirts, and shoes, and everything. I knew when I got back to school I was really going to look nice and nobody was going to have a thing to say about it. In fact, I wasn’t ever going to speak to anyone in school again, except Sister Gerard. I was an expert. The homes had taught me how to go through the day without talking to anyone. If I could do it there, I could do it in school, too.
It was a week before I went back to school. I met Sal in the morning before I went up the hill to class.
“Well, how are you feeling, son?”
“Fine. Do you like my new clothes?”
<
br /> “I certainly do,” he said. “I liked the other ones, too.”
“Well, nobody else did! I like these ones better. Mr. Frazier bought them for me.”
“That was very nice of him. Are you all ready for school?”
“I sure am. I’m not going to talk to anybody but Sister Gerard.”
“Not even if they talk to you?”
“Nope. And if they make fun of me, I’ll shut them out.”
Sal crouched down on the ground in front of me. “You known, son, you and I have been through a lot of the same things—living in people’s houses, often hungry, never having more than rags to wear, and being made fun of more than most. It could have made me bitter and mean and angry, and for a while it did, but then something happened to change me.”
“What?”
“Well, I met an old man one day. He was sitting on a park bench that I used at night for sleeping. I told him to get off my bench. I told him to go and find some other place to sit. Well, he got up and started to walk away, but then he stopped. He turned back toward me and leaned on his cane. He said, ‘You know, sonny, all my life I’ve been bitter and mean and angry. I never went out of my way to be kind to anyone. I never went out of my way to talk to anyone.’ He paused a moment and then said, ‘That’s why I was sitting all by myself.’ He then turned and walked away.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I didn’t either, at first. But after I thought about what he said, I decided I never wanted to be mean or bitter again.”
“So you want me to think about it?” I asked.
“Uh-huh.” He pinched my cheek and stood up. “I have to go now, son. I’ll see you later.”
“All right.”
I walked up the hill toward school. I thought about the old man. I still didn’t get it. I went straight to my classroom. As the kids came into the room, I ignored them. If they said anything to me, I didn’t hear them. I stayed to myself.
At the end of the school day, I was on my way to the convent for my extra lesson when Eddie Keegan stopped me in the hall.
They Cage the Animals at Night Page 15