My Crooked Family

by James Lincoln Collier

  I stood there looking at the bills. It was a powerful lot of money. Just looking at those five tens made my eyes shine. If only things were different I’d have been mighty glad to have the dough. But it was blood money. I took a look around to see if anybody was watching me, and then I laid the bills down on top of the garbage can. Let whoever found them have them.

  I turned and started out of the alley. After a couple of steps I stopped and looked back. The bills were lying there, looking at me. They certainly looked mighty good. I thought of all the things I could buy with that money —a pair of yellow trousers with a crease like a knife, a baseball glove, a dress for Lulu. I could feel myself beginning to sweat.

  I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see the money, forced myself around, and started back out of the alley again. And then suddenly I turned back, snatched up the money, shoved it into my hip pocket, and ran on out of the alley, feeling amazed at myself for having fifty dollars.

  I knew I couldn’t just go out and spend all that money at once. If I came home with a lot of new clothes all of a sudden Ma was bound to notice, and Pa would, too, when he came home from the hospital. I’d have to hide it and spend it a little at a time, when I had some good excuse for showing up with something new. Where should I hide it? I didn’t want to stick it anyplace in our apartment; that was too risky. So I went down into the basement of the building and had a look around. There was a lot of junk heaped around that people had carted down and left over the years. I pried up one of the slates in a corner of the floor with a stick, slid the fifty dollars under it, and shoved some junk over it. Nobody would be looking around there for anything in a million years.

  Then I went up to our place and lay down on my bed thinking about what I’d buy. Some yellow trousers, that was the first thing, for I was determined I wasn’t going to look like an orphan from a movie anymore. Then maybe I’d buy ice skates, and a fielder’s glove. And of course I’d buy a dress for Lulu so she wouldn’t look like an orphan from a movie, either, and maybe a sweater for her too.

  I went on lying there for a while thinking about buying things. It felt pretty good. Oh, I felt guilty all right. A fella had got killed for that money, and I didn’t deserve it. I should have left it lying there on that garbage can. I’d done wrong to take it, and it made me blush to think about it. Still, it gave me a good feeling to think of the things I was going to buy with it. Then I dozed off.

  A while later I woke up and heard voices in the kitchen. I raised up in bed and listened. It sounded like Ma and Mrs. O’Brien, just low voices droning on. I slipped out of bed, moving quiet as I could so as not to wake up Lulu, and tiptoed to the door. I could hear the voices better now. It was Mrs. O’Brien all right. But I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying. I opened the door a crack and stuck my ear out.

  “I’m at the end of my tether,” Ma said. “How can I rear children with things like this happening all the time?”

  “What exactly happened, dearie?” Mrs. O’Brien said.

  “We don’t know, Emily. All he’ll say is that the man was waiting for him in the alley and that it was deliberate. He wants revenge.”

  “It’s not good when men get to fighting. Especially not for a family man.”

  “Emily, I’m frightened. He means to go after them.”

  Mrs. O’Brien didn’t say anything for a minute. Then she said, “Maybe it’s time you cleared out, dearie. Took the kids and cleared out. Make it up with your folks and go back there.”

  “I can’t leave him, not like this.”

  “You never should have got involved with him. He wasn’t the right one for you,” Mrs. O’Brien said.

  I could hear Ma sigh. “I know, Emily. But, you know, I had been cooped up in my family’s house all my life, and never had seen anything or done anything. I was supposed to just sit and wait until somebody respectable came along and married me. Finally I persuaded my father to let me take that job at the telephone company. One of the salesmen there introduced me to William. He seemed so glamorous—a song and dance man on the Orpheum Circuit, young, handsome. It looked then like he and Ted Wright were bound for the top. He began taking me places and showing me things I’d never seen before. It was all so exciting. Of course, when my father found out he nearly went mad. He said I wasn’t to see William anymore, and so we ran off and got married. I took it for granted that in a year or so William and Ted would be headliners at the Palace on Broadway, and I could thumb my nose at my parents. I didn’t realize how stubborn William was. He was already getting a bad name with the booking agents, and by the time Roger was born he was back in the small time and a few years later it was over.”

  There was another pause and then Mrs. O’Brien said, “I don’t believe the whiskey can have helped, dearie.”

  “Please, Emily, don’t start that again. I’ve had all I can take today.”

  “I don’t mind admitting I like my glass now and again,” Mrs. O’Brien said, “but I know when to stop.”

  “Emily, for heaven’s sake.”

  “Give it up. For the children’s sake, at least. Clear out and go back to your folks.”

  “I can’t, Emily,” Ma said. “I just can’t—not and leave him like this.”

  I didn’t want to hear any more of it, so I tiptoed back to bed and lay there thinking about my yellow trousers until I fell asleep.

  *****

  Two days later I went out to Morris Bros. Clothing Store after a pair of yellow trousers. I was pretty nervous, for suppose Ma came by and saw me shopping in there? Right away she’d want to know where I got the money from. But anyway, I was determined to take my time over it, so as to enjoy it, for how often did I ever get to buy new clothes? So I looked over some shirts first, just to get an idea of what they had and how much they cost. Then I tried on about four pairs of trousers—brown ones, blue ones, and so forth. This was mostly to make the time go slower, for I’d already made up my mind to get yellow ones.

  Finally I picked them out—bright yellow with a watch pocket and brass buttons on the fly. Oh my, did I feel proud walking out of there with those yellow trousers on, carrying my old knickers rolled up in a paper bag under my arm; I’d still need them, for I meant to save my new trousers for best. I felt mighty good, I tell you. I felt like everybody along the street must be noticing me and saying, “Look at that swell kid, he’s some dresser all right.” I was bound and determined I’d buy a new shirt just as soon as I could think of an excuse.

  Of course Ma was fit to be tied. “You look like a cheap gambler,” she said. “Where on earth did you get them?”

  “Charley O’Neill sold them to me for half a buck. They don’t fit him.”

  “They look brand new to me,” she said.

  “They are, nearly. He got the wrong size and they wouldn’t take them back because they were on sale.”

  “I wish you’d told me you needed trousers, Roger. I’d have gone with you.”

  “My old pants are a wreck,” I said.

  “You should have told me. Why don’t you children tell me these things?”

  But I didn’t care what Ma thought. They suited me fine. I went out and strutted around in them until it began to get dark, and when I went to bed that night I hung the yellow pants from the top bureau drawer, so I could look at them while I was going to sleep. Oh, I felt guilty about it all right. I’d done wrong. But I was glad I’d bought my yellow trousers, anyway.

  *****

  A week later Pa came home from the infirmary. He’d been there for three weeks and was healing up pretty good, although he had a ways to go. It hurt him just to stand up straight, and he had an awful time walking. We brought him home on the streetcar and had to help him upstairs. After that he spent his days sitting in a chair by the kitchen window where he could look out into the backyards.

  The next day Circus Penrose caught up to me after school. He gave me a wink and a tip of his head, and I followed him down the same alley where he’d given me the fifty dollars. He sat on th
e garbage can wearing bright blue trousers and a red-and-yellow striped shirt. “I see you got yourself some new duds, too,” he said.

  “Just trousers. I haven’t decided what kind of a shirt to get.”

  “Well, I ain’t surprised, for I knew you’d be in a celebrating mood.”

  “For what?”

  “For what? How can you ask, Rog? Most fellas would count it mighty good news when their pa came home from the infirmary. Never having had a pa, I can’t say first hand how I would feel if I found out he wasn’t going to die. Maybe I wouldn’t think nothing of it one way or another. The truth is, I never saw what the use of a pa was. The only ones I ever seen was always more trouble than they was worth. Done nothing but smack their kids around and drink up any money they could get a hold of.”

  “They’re not all like that.”

  “Oh, don’t take me wrong, Rog. Your pa probably ain’t like most of them. Give you a pat on the head when you took out the garbage and slipped you a dime for your birthday.”

  But I wasn’t thinking about my pa, I was thinking of Charley O’Neill’s pa. I decided to change the subject. “Circus, how did you know my pa came home?”

  “Why, Rog, you know I think the world of you, especially since you done so good in that little business a while back. And I said to myself this morning, I wonder how that boy’s pa is doing? So I went around to the infirmary, and what do I discover but your pa has mended enough to go home. And I said, Circus, why don’t you just take five minutes out of your day to wish that boy well. So that’s what I done.”

  “Well, he’s a lot better, that’s true.”

  “And living at home where he’s got his wife to fix him steaks to keep his strength up, and his kiddies to bring him his cigs and his newspaper.”

  “Of course he’s home. Where else would he go?”

  “That’s the best thing for him, to be among the bosom of his family. No doubt he’ll be out and around soon.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He doesn’t talk about his plans much.”

  Circus nodded. “That’s right. A sensible man doesn’t blab about things. So”—he looked me up and down—“now that you’ve got them pretty trousers, I wouldn’t doubt you’ll be getting some more duds to go along with them. That sweater spoils the effect. Oh, sure, on hot days it’s useful to have holes in your sweater here and there, so’s the air can circulate. And there’s bound to be some little girlies somewhere who’d see the value of that and would appreciate a Raggedy Andy. Yes, there’s certain to be girlies like that around, maybe up in Outer Mongolia somewheres. But there ain’t too many of them around here.” He nodded again. “Now I suppose you’ll be getting yourself a couple of striped shirts, a pair of narrow shoes with pointed toes, a nice derby hat instead of a cloth cap. You wouldn’t want to stop halfway.”

  What difference did it make to him how I was dressed? “I can’t buy a whole lot of stuff all at once. My ma would get suspicious where I got the money.”

  He shook his head seriously. “Now, Rog, you ain’t looking at this thing correct. That’s because you’re young and inexperienced. When you been around a little more, like some people has, you’ll see it better. You take me. My ma, she liked to whack me and when I was a little tyke she did it regular. It eased her mind a good deal. She got used to doing it. She came to believe she had a right to do it, and would do it now and again just to prove she had the right. But about the time I was getting to be your age and starting to grow, it come to me that maybe I had some rights in the matter, too. It was my rump that was getting whacked, not hers. I chewed that one over for a while, and the next time she whacked me I picked up a chair and busted her arm with it. That was the last time she whacked me, you can bet on that.” He cocked his head at me. “How old are you?”

  “Thirteen. Almost fourteen.”

  “There you are. As soon as you’re fourteen you can leave school legal. You’re next to being a grown man and shouldn’t be taking orders from your ma no more.”

  “Ma doesn’t whack me. Pa does, but not Ma.”

  “Well, seeing as I never had a pa, I don’t know about that. Maybe you wouldn’t be so quick to belt your pa with a chair. But you shouldn’t be taking orders from your ma. Not at your age.”

  I didn’t know. I’d been taking orders from Ma all my life and it seemed natural to me. “I don’t know, Circus.”

  “Yes, I can see that there’s a lot of things you need to learn. But you’re a smart kid and can pick up things fast. If you play your cards right I shouldn’t wonder you’ll be doing very good for yourself before another year’s out. Now, for example, there’s a very good thing going to be brought off pretty soon that you might get in on. I don’t say you could, but you might. If I dropped a word to a certain fella that you’re game, why, he might allow you in. I don’t say he would, but he might.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want any more of those things, Circus.”

  “Well, yes, you’re bound to say that. I knew before you opened your mouth you was going to say that. That’s because you still got a nice piece of cash in your hip pocket and don’t need no more yet. I can understand that—you’re young and inexperienced and don’t consider the future. So long as you’re okay today, that’s good enough for you. But you can’t always think of things that way. Where you going to be a couple of days from now, a week from now, a month? Now I know when you’re young a month seems like a long time off—so far ahead it ain’t worth considering. But you’d be surprised how fast a month can go. Take you. Pretty soon you’re going to get yourself a couple of shirts, derby hat, pointed shoes, spend a dollar here and there on a little girlie. There won’t be nothing left in your hip pocket but lint, and lint ain’t going to interest no little girlie. Take it from Circus. That’s when you’ll start wishing you’d listened when old Circus made a certain proposition. For there’s plenty of green in this one. A smart fella could do right well out of it.”

  I shook my head once more. “I got to go. My ma’s waiting for me,” I said.

  Circus cocked his head at me. “Thirteen going on fourteen and still running home to his ma. When I was thirteen I had my own little girlie and come home when I wanted to. By the time I was fourteen the money was rolling in and my ma couldn’t have got me home if she’d of begged on her bended knee.”

  “I’m not the same as you, Circus. I got to go.”

  “That’s all right, Rog. You go on home to your ma. I’ll find another smart kid to let in on the thing. I expect you’ll be sorry later and wished you’d listened to old Circus. But it ain’t no skin off my nose.”

  8

  I WENT ON HOME, THINKING about it. Of course he was right about me wanting to buy some new duds. I was going to, as soon as I could think up another excuse. Ma knew that Charley O’Neill had enough sense not to keep buying himself clothes that didn’t fit.

  But no matter what I wanted, I wasn’t going to get mixed up in another of those things. Even though that scared, sick feeling was pretty much worn away, I could remember it as sharp as a taste in my mouth. Circus could come up with all the reasons in the world, and I just wouldn’t do it.

  When I got home Pa had pulled a chair around to the enamel kitchen table and was writing on a piece of paper. It was a strange sight, for Pa wasn’t much of a one for writing letters and such.

  He looked up from the paper when he heard me come in.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be home from school before this?”

  “I ran into Charley O’Neill. He wanted me to help him carry a mirror home. They just bought it. It’s a big fancy one with gold stuff around the frame.” Grandpa and Grandma had one like that.

  Pa frowned. “If that’s how O’Neill wants to waste his money, I guess it’s his right.”

  “We ought to have a mirror, Pa. If Lulu could get a look at herself in the morning she might not go to school with a dirty face all the time.”

  “You’re getting worse than your ma.”

  “Where is
she?”

  “She took Lulu shopping for a dress. The one she had on was in rags.”

  “Where’d Ma get the money?” I said.

  “Where do you think she got the money? I gave it to her. Being stuck here all day I started noticing things. I’m not going to have no daughter of mine walking around in rags and tatters.”

  Where’d he gotten the money from? He’d been laid up for three weeks now. “I could sure use a new sweater. This one is all patched.” If he gave me some money for a sweater I could use it as an excuse for showing up with a new shirt, too.

  “You’re a different story. You can earn your own dough. It’s about time you went back to work, anyway, and started bringing something in.”

  “I can’t get a real job. I’m not fourteen yet. I still have to go to school.”

  He gave me a look. “There are a lot of ways to pick up some change you don’t need working papers for.”

  I was kind of surprised that Pa said that. Did he really want me to get into something crooked? When I thought about it, though, I wasn’t too shocked. The way Pa looked at things, the world had done him wrong and he had a right to get even. He always said that nobody else went by the law, why should he? Look at those politicos, he said, always got their hand in the public cash box. Or those big muckamucks who owned the railroads—they bought up half the country and stole the rest. Anybody who went by the law was a fool, he said. I wondered what he’d say if I told him I’d already gone crooked and got fifty dollars for it. We were getting to be pretty crooked around there.