The Wooden Nickel

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The Wooden Nickel Page 3

by Alisha Paige


  “Who are you?” she asked in a squeaky nasal voice.

  Hank began to stand when Cliff tugged at his trousers, forcing him back down into the wooden bench. “What’d ya do that for?” he asked, half mad and ready to bolt.

  Cliff ignored him. “My name is Cliff and this here is my brother, Hank. This is our first day.”

  Mrs. Crawford sighed loudly. “I know that, young man. This is my classroom.”

  Cliff cleared his throat and smoothed his hair on the back of his neck. He needed a hair cut. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He hoped he didn’t look like a hobo as much as he felt like one. He tilted his head up a bit, trying to hide the length of his dusty blond hair behind the collar of his faded best shirt. Cliff cleared his throat and sat up tall enough for his back bone to pop a bit and enough for Mrs. Crawford to frown again.

  “We’re new in town,” Cliff explained, sounding much calmer than he felt.

  “Where do you two young men reside?” Mrs. Crawford asked as she repeatedly slapped a ruler against her palm.

  Hank began to shift in his seat. A trickle of sweat slid down Cliff’s neck. What in the world had she just asked him? He scratched his neck and smiled the best smile he could muster. Mother had always told him that his teeth were his best feature and he planned to use them to his advantage. Maybe if Mrs. Crawford saw how nice his teeth were, she’d believe their story, if he could come up with a good enough one.

  “Um, reside?” Cliff asked, clearly puzzled.

  “Yes, young man,” Mrs. Crawford repeated as she continued to slap the ruler harder into her gnarled, arthritic hand.

  Cliff shuffled his feet and looked down at the wooden floor.

  “Look at me, young man. Now, I am going to ask you again. Where do you live?”

  Her beady gray eyes stared at him and he couldn’t help but notice the long hair growing out of a mole on her white eyebrow.

  “Oh, um, we’re new here. We just moved here,” Cliff stammered.

  “You already said as much, young man. Where abouts?”

  “Oh, in the next town. See, there’s no good school there, so my mother sent us here,” Cliff lied as he smiled sweetly again, showing off his best feature.

  Mrs. Crawford knit her eyebrows together. “The closet town is nearly a hundred miles away, so you’ve moved here?”

  “Um, yes ma’am.”

  “Where do you reside?”

  Cliff decided that she must surely be asking where he was staying. It was his nearest instinct at what she was asking and he didn’t want to seem dumb on his first day, so he decided to gamble and took a shot. “Oh, with my uncle. My mom and sisters are still back home.”

  “And your father?”

  Good, he was right. The word was a tricky one though; he wondered how many of those Mrs. Crawford had up her sleeve. He hoped not too many more, cause he surely couldn’t afford no dictionary when he could hardly manage to eat most days.

  A shadow crossed over both of the boy’s faces as Cliff answered softly, “My Pa’s dead, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Crawford stopped slapping the ruler and sucked in a bit of air. Even an old crab apple like her looked as if she felt a bit sad for them and for once Cliff felt as though he had the upper hand with her. He could feel twenty or thirty eyeballs staring at him and when he looked two rows up, he saw Louise again. Her big eyes looked afraid for him and he wanted to look longer because he’d never seen her without her bonnet and even in the middle of a dust storm, her golden hair shone like the sweetest wheat he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Very well, then, young men. Welcome to my classroom. I run a tight ship here. I do not tolerate any misbehaving or horse play. Class, welcome Mr. Hank and Mr. Cliff,” she ordered as she made her way back to the front of the class.

  The class answered in unison just like they’d practiced it a hundred times. “Good morning Hank and Cliff. Welcome.”

  Cliff sat up straight as could be and pinched Hank’s leg, forcing him to straighten up, too. Cliff smiled his best white smile and winked at Louise. She smiled back and raised her hand just barely over the bench where he could see the tips of her fingers. She had taken her gloves off. If he closed his eyes he could still remember how her small hand had felt in his when he closed her fingers over the wooden nickel. He hoped she was able to buy some food with it. She didn’t look near as hungry as before to him.

  Mrs. Crawford began writing arithmetic on the black board and asked everyone twelve and older to copy the problem down. Shoot, he’d forgotten to bring a pencil and paper, but actually he didn’t have any to bring, so he couldn’t have brought any no hows. He raised his hand high and screwed his face into a pathetic little scared look. Maybe Mrs. Crawford would be sorry for him and Hank a little longer, just long enough for him to borrow some school supplies.

  “Yes, sir?” Mrs. Crawford asked when she had turned around from writing the first problem.

  “Um, ma’am, my brother and me forgot our paper and pencils. I’m powerfully sorry about it.”

  “My brother and I, Clifford,” Mrs. Crawford corrected.

  Cliff’s insides cringed. Oh, gee whiz. Why did she have to go and use his full name? Only his mother called him that. He much more preferred to be called Cliff. What in the heck did she have to go and do that for?

  “Yes, ma’am. My brother and I forgot,” he replied.

  “Forgot what?” Now he was really confused. Was she hard of hearing only part of the time?

  “I thought I told you already. Our paper and pencils,” Cliff explained.

  “Yes, dear boy, I know, but we speak in complete sentences in this classroom. Who has some paper and pencils to spare for our new students?”

  Louise’s hand shot up before she even realized that she had only one pencil.

  “Thank you, Louise.”

  Cliff stood up and walked toward her bench. Louise grabbed four sheets of paper from her stack and stood. She met him in the aisle and there was that sweet smile she had dreamed of four nights in a row.

  “Hello,” Louise whispered, as her face flushed crimson.

  “Hello, yourself,” Cliff whispered back as he took the papers she handed him. His hand closed over hers and her only pencil. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replied softly as she turned to go. She slid her hand off of the pencil and out of his grasp. Both of them hurried back to their seats and sat down.

  Louise’s older sister Lily glared at her. “Now whatcha gonna do, silly?” she whispered.

  “We can share for today. I have another one at home,” Louise whispered back. “Besides, most of our lessons are different and you’ll be reading while I’m writing.”

  Lily sighed heavily and continued to do her arithmetic. “Oh, brother.”

  “Just hush,” Louise whispered.

  She opened her satchel and found her reading book. Louise had hardly been able to concentrate on her reading all morning long and sometimes she just stared at the same sentence, before rereading it over and over again. She closed her eyes and thought she was darned sure that Cliff was looking at her back, but she didn’t dare check. And what a fine name he had. A nice, strong name and it suited him perfectly. He was lucky, not like her, but she liked her middle name enough to be happy about it. Even Hank had a nice name. She wondered what their mother looked like. Did she have those amazing teeth, too? Did Hank? Somehow she knew that they were Cliff’s alone or surely Hank would have used his smile like Cliff had done.

  She had never seen Mrs. Crowfoot back down like she had this morning. Shoot, even Mrs. Crowfoot didn’t care much about dead people’s children. Louise knew that first hand. When Susie Walton had lost her grandpa she had cried for a week straight. Mrs. Crowfoot slapped her ruler on her desk every time, telling her to straighten up and do her studies. Louise decided then and there that Mrs. Crowfoot would probably go straight to Hell when she died, though the preacher said that God didn’t like a person to judge other’s souls. Heck, with Mrs. Crowfoot
, a person just couldn’t help it. She had told Susie that no amount of crying was gonna bring her grandpa back and made her sit in the corner for crying too loud. Louise hated Mrs. Crowfoot. Surely it was Cliff’s smile that had won her over. Mama had said that charm was something that some people were just born with and Cliff was sure enough born with a pocket full of charm.

  Mama said that charm couldn’t really be taught and couldn’t really be learned. Cliff was a charmer for sure. Louise hadn’t been too sure what charm was until she met Cliff, but now she knew. Mama said President Roosevelt was full of charm. Even so much so that it came plumb out of the radio. Folks just loved his soothing voice during his fireside chats and the way he talked to you just like it was you and him sitting in the parlor. Mama just loved to listen to his voice and Louise had to admit, there was a nice, strong quality to it and his talks always made everything seem better, even if it weren’t.

  Now that she understood what charm was, she was still wondering about “class”, cause that was what Mama said Eleanor Roosevelt possessed. At first Louise was worried about poor Eleanor. The only time Louise had heard the word “possessed” was at church when the preacher talked about demons possessing one’s soul, but Mama said that possess had lots of meanings, too. Good thing too, cause Louise hated to think of demons in the grand White House.

  Old Mrs. Crowfoot finally dismissed the children for lunch, but not without slapping her ruler against her desk once more, just for effect and reminding all the kids not to be tardy coming back. Louise, Lily and Ida walked directly toward their favorite tree. Lily passed each of her sisters a biscuit with bacon, wrapped in cheese cloth. It was too dusty to sit on the ground, so the three of them stood in a circle and chewed quietly on their biscuits.

  “Come on,” Cliff ordered Hank as he made his way over to the circle of girls.

  “Ah, what for? I don’t want to go talk to no girls.”

  “Well, I do, so act right or you’ll be sorry,” Cliff answered, walking a step ahead of his brother.

  Lily could see the boys heading their way. “Don’t look now, but those two dirty boys are coming over here.”

  Louise swallowed a piece of bacon as her eyes grew wider. “Cliff?”

  “Both of them,” Lily whispered.

  Ida continued to eat, unaware of excitement of any kind. Louise wiped some stray crumbs off of her mouth and straightened her apron.

  “Hello, again,” Cliff said as he approached, smiling like he had some good news.

  “Hello,” Louise replied, smiling back as butterflies skittered across her belly.

  Lily only nodded. Louise wanted to kick her for acting like such a snob. Ida even waved. Couldn’t Lily act right for once?

  “Thanks for the paper and pencils. I’ll pay you back, I promise,” Cliff said as he placed a hand on the tree, leaning with his feet crossed. Only one shoe still had shoe laces and the tongue on the other one just hung out like it was extra thirsty.

  “Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to,” Louise replied softly.

  Cliff smiled his biggest smile and flipped his long bangs out of his eyes. Louise thought she might faint at the sight of it. The sun was shining brightly now and his light brown eyes shone like one of Mama’s best copper pans.

  “Aren’t you gonna eat?” Lily asked, nibbling at her buttery biscuit.

  “Nah, we ate breakfast,” Cliff replied while Hank walked off a bit, kicking at the dust and rocks.

  Lily whistled low and shook her head. Louise just wished she’d fall down dead. Why did she have no manners when it came to boys? She was always thinking she was so much better than other folks.

  “We ate breakfast, too. Aren’t you hungry?” Lily asked, pinching an inch of bacon from the biscuit, dangling it over her mouth before nibbling at it as if she were playing tea party.

  Lily could be so darned mean sometimes. Louise was gonna tell Mama if Lily didn’t straighten up. Mama would not look kindly to Lily putting on airs in front of less fortunate children. No, siree. Lily better watch it. Louise didn’t like to be a tattler, but she would tell Mama if she had to.

  “We’ll get something later,” Cliff said, never taking his eyes off of Louise.

  “You want the rest of my biscuit? I’m full,” Louise said as she held out the remaining half of her lunch.

  “Nah, I couldn’t. Really, I’m fine,” Cliff replied, kicking at the dirt and looking away from the prettiest pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen.

  Louise held her half eaten lunch out to him. He looked up, meeting her gaze. Their eyes locked as she wrapped her lunch back into the cheese cloth and took his hand. She opened his dirty fist and placed the tiny bundle into his palm, closing his fingers around it, just like he had done to her a few days before. Blood rushed into his ears. The sun seemed brighter and warmer than ever before.

  Lily grabbed Ida’s hand, glaring at her sister. She stormed off, back up the steps and into the schoolhouse.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Cliff asked, worried for Louise.

  “No, don’t pay her no mind. She’s just jealous.”

  “You better take your lunch back. She might tell your folks,” Cliff warned as he held the biscuit out to her.

  Louise shook her head. “No, please eat it. It would hurt my feelings if you didn’t eat it. Besides, you look hungry.”

  Cliff frowned. He didn’t want to look hungry to no one. He looked down at the dusty school yard, not knowing what to say.

  “Hey, just look at it like pay back. You gave me the wooden nickel and now I’m paying you back.”

  Cliff nodded and smiled again. “Yeah, okay.”

  Louise could tell that his manly pride might have been hurt a bit. Maybe just bruised like Pa’s got sometime. At least that was what Mama said. Last year, when Pa had broken his arm, he couldn’t chop firewood for six weeks nearly. Mama said he was mostly sad cause his manly pride was bruised. As much as Louise could figure, that meant that they most often thought they were so strong that they weren’t allowed to be sick or hurt or even hungry at all. For some strange reason, they liked feeling all powerful and strong. She suspected that Cliff didn’t want to admit to being hungry and would soon enough starve then let someone know. She was glad she had been smart enough to think of some way to make it all better for him. Pa was always trading and paying people back. He said he wouldn’t take no hand outs, no matter how poor they were. That was where she got the idea and she was glad she had paid attention to it.

  Cliff took three bites then walked over to Hank and passed him the rest. Hank turned and waved to Louise. “Thanks,” he muttered before devouring the rest in one big bite.

  Louise nodded as Cliff made his way back to her. “Can I walk you home after school?”

  “Well, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Louise replied as she smoothed her apron again.

  “Yeah, I don’t think your sis would look kindly upon that. Maybe one day, though?”

  “Yes, I would like that. She’ll come around. Say, where do you live?”

  Cliff bit his upper lip. He hated to lie to her, especially if he might be walking her home one day. Then he’d have to carry the lie all the way to her folks and he already learned before that lying does you no good. It was hard to keep up with lies. They got all complicated. He had already figured that if you told the truth, it was much easier, cause it was easy to remember and you didn’t have to write it down to remember what lie you’d told.

  “You live with your uncle, right?” Louise prodded.

  “Nah. I can’t lie to you. I just told Mrs. Crawford that, but promise you won’t tell?” Cliff asked, now worried he’d be kicked out of school for lying to the teacher.

  “Oh, I promise. Your secret is safe with me,” Louise assured him.

  Louise looked at him, studying his face. She thought he might have some freckles underneath all that soot, but it was mighty hard to tell.

  Cliff didn’t know why, but he wanted to tell her how he’d gotten here.


  “You sure you can keep a secret, Louise?”

  Louise nodded again, staring into his coppery eyes. My, his lashes were long and she liked the way they curled up when he squinted in the sun.

  “Me and Hank live on the train,” he whispered, so no one else would hear.

  “On the train?” Louise breathed, stepping closer to him.

  Cliff nodded, waiting to see her expression. He hoped she wouldn’t think he was a dirty bum, but he had no choice but to set out in search of work.

  “Like the hoboes Pa talks about?”

  “Yeah, I guess. My dad died and we left in search of work. We’re gonna ride the rails straight up to Oregon or maybe Washington.”

  “I’m awfully sorry about your Pa, Cliff.”

  Cliff frowned. “Yeah, me, too. Now me and Hank have to be the men of the family and I tell you, it ain’t easy.”

  Cliff could hardly believe what he was telling her, but somehow he knew he could trust Louise and it felt good to talk to someone about it besides Hank. Man oh man was he was sick of listening to Hank. President Hoover hadn’t killed Pa and Cliff would sure enough smack Hank if he said it again. He had taken the chicken’s way out and left Cliff and Hank to pick up the pieces. He hated him for it, but even he knew one day he would think of his father in a better light and he wouldn’t hate him so much.

  “I’m so sorry, Cliff. How long are you gonna stay here?” Louise asked.

  It was hard for her to imagine him traveling in a train. He seemed too young even to her and all the way to Oregon? She felt sorry for him and wished she could think of a way to tell her Pa. Maybe he could help. Her Pa was a very good man, but she had promised to keep it a secret. Now she was in a bind sure enough.

  “I ain’t sure. I thought we’d try to find work here for a while and send some money back home. Mama’s gonna lose the house if we don’t send some soon.”

  Louise thought for a second. “Well, I hate to tell you, but our town is not doing real well either. Pa said he’s lucky we’re able to work our own garden and Mama has tried for months to a get a job, cause no one’s hardly even buying my Pa’s paper. There’s just nothing out there. But, I tell you what, I’ll pray for you, Cliff. God can always find a way.”

 

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