Ma looked at the two nickels, then handed them back to me. "You go to the movies," she said.
"I don't need 'em, Ma," I told her. "I'm already going to the movies. Mickey's payin'."
Ma looked at me strangely. "Why?" she asked.
"It's a long story. I'll tell you later. I gotta get going."
"Well, you take this anyway," said Ma, pressing the money into my hand. "Buy you and Mickey a Baby Ruth. You deserve it."
"No kidding?"
Mama grinned and tousled my hair. "No kidding. Now off to Miss Emily's, and don't dawdle on the way."
I carried the linens downstairs, loaded them into my wagon, and headed over to Miss Emily's Hotel for Young Women. Sadie let me in the back door. She's the cook—a big colored lady with cheeks that shine like polished mahogany and eyes full of laughter.
"Mawnin', child," she said, giving me a wide, warm smile. "How y'all doin' this day?"
"Just fine, Sadie," I told her. I don't know how she stays so cheerful, working for the likes of Miss Emily. Miss Emily is as bony and cold as Sadie is round and warm.
The kitchen smelled of good things to eat. Beyond the swinging doors I could hear the clink of silverware and the murmur of conversation. Sadie went to tell Miss Emily I was there. As I was bringing in the linens, a maid started carrying the finished plates out into the kitchen. I couldn't believe my eyes. Some of them were hardly touched, still heaped with eggs, pancakes, biscuits, and thick slabs of ham. Just looking at them made my stomach growl and my mouth flood up with water.
Sadie bustled back in and caught me staring at the food.
"Ain't it a shame," she said, shaking her head. "These fine ladies always fussin' over their little bitty waistlines—eat like birds, the lot of 'em." Then she grinned and gave me a wink. "I keep tellin' 'em, a man likes a little flesh on a woman. Ain't that the truth?"
I felt myself blushing. "Yes, ma'am, I suppose so," I said. The next thing I knew, my eyes got pulled back to that food again. Jeez, that cave in my stomach was aching.
Sadie grabbed a big biscuit from one of the plates, split it open, spread it thick with butter, and loaded on two huge slabs of ham.
"Here," she said, holding it out to me. "Ain't no use lettin' good food go to waste."
My fingers itched to reach for it, but I held them still.
"I already had breakfast, thanks."
Sadie turned her head sideways and looked me up and down. "Lawd, child," she said, "don't look to me like you're in need of watchin' your weight." She pushed the biscuit into my hand.
I pushed it back. "Mama don't let me take charity," I said quietly.
"Charity! That what you think this is? That ain't what this is. This is soul savin'."
"Soul savin'?"
"Shore 'nuff. Ain't you ever heard that it's a sin to waste food?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well then. You'd just be savin' the souls of them fine ladies in there if you was to eat this up now, wouldn't you?"
I knew it was all a bunch of baloney, but I just couldn't hold out any longer. I took the biscuit and bit in. I thought for sure I'd died and gone to heaven. I'd never tasted anything so rich and good in my whole life. As hungry as I was, I chewed it slowly, pushing it around my mouth with my tongue, trying to get every last drop of flavor out before I swallowed it down.
Just then Miss Emily walked in. She glanced at me briefly, scowled, and looked away. She went over to Sadie and put a ten-dollar bill in her hand.
"I told you not to be giving handouts to these waifs," she said, not caring that I was standing right there. "It just makes them lazy and shiftless." Then she turned and marched out again without another glance in my direction.
There was hatred burning in Sadie's eyes as she handed me the money. "You never mind her," she said, but it was too late. The biscuit had turned as sour as throw-up in my mouth. I swallowed it with difficulty and put the rest down on the table. I reached into my pocket and touched the two nickels Ma had given me. I held them for a minute, just thinking about those Baby Ruths, but then in my mind I saw Miss Emily's scowling face and felt the sting of her words again. I pulled the nickels out and plunked them down next to the biscuit.
"Would you make sure Miss Emily gets these," I asked Sadie.
Her eyes met mine, and then a slow, approving smile spread across her face. She nodded and gave me a wink.
"I shore will, honey," she said softly. "I shore 'nuff will."
Maybe I didn't have nothing to show for it, but for the way it made me feel inside, that was the best darn ten cents I ever spent.
FIFTEEN
Mama was in a real snit when I got home.
"Will ya look at this?" she said, waving an envelope in front of my face. "Stubborn, prideful fool," she muttered as I took the envelope from her hand.
"It's from Pa!" I said, my heart leaping.
"Aye," said Mama, her arms crossed, her foot tapping the floor.
Then I discovered what it was that got her goat so. In the envelope, along with the note, were the three dollars Mama had hidden in his sack. I read the note:
Dearest Molly,
It'll be a cold day in hell before I'll eat a meal that's been stole from the mouths of my wife and children.
Your devoted,
Daniel
I couldn't help smiling.
"And just what are you grinnin' at?" asked Mama.
I shrugged. "Well, that's Pa for you," I said.
"Aaagh," said Mama, throwing her hands up in the air. "I mighta known you'd take his side."
Our door buzzer rang and Ma made a face. "Now who the devil is that?" she mumbled.
"I'll go see, Ma." I went into the front room, pushed the window up, and stuck my head out. "Who's down there?" I yelled. The front door opened and Mr. Twiddle stepped out onto the stoop and looked up. I frowned.
"Twiddle," he yelled, "collecting."
"Yeah, just a minute," I told him. I couldn't stand Mr. Twiddle. Not that he's a bad guy or anything, but he's an insurance man. Every week, for no reason that I can see, we have to give him a quarter, for which we get absolutely nothing. Some racket, if you ask me.
"It's Twiddle," I told Ma, and she made a face, too.
"Don't give it to him, Ma," I said. "Who cares if we have insurance."
"No, no," Ma said with a sigh. "Insurance is important." She reached up over the sink and took down the jar where we kept my shoeshine money. She took out five nickels and handed them to me. "Go pay him, please, Danny."
I dropped the nickels down one by one and watched Mr. Twiddle put them in his pocket—nick els it had taken me the better part of a week to earn. He smiled when he caught the last one and tipped his hat. "See you next week," he yelled.
"Yeah, sure." I could hardly wait.
I heard a door slam and looked over to see Mickey dashing down his front steps. He saw me hanging out the window.
"Hey, Garvey," he yelled. "Let's go. We're gonna be late again!"
Oh no. I glanced at the clock on the front room wall. Five minutes to ten! I raced through my room, grabbed my missal, and shot past Ma and out the door. "Gonna be late for catechism," I yelled over my shoulder.
Mickey and I ran to the corner, turned left, and kept going right on through the tunnel and down 106th. The sidewalk was full of Saturday morning shoppers. We zigged and zagged around them and arrived at St. Cecilia's, all out of breath, just a minute past ten.
Sister Mary Francis pursed her lips and stared at us with her beady black eyes when we walked in.
"We're late again, I see," she said.
An irresistible urge to sully came over me.
"Oh? Were you late, too, Sister?" I asked.
I'd been tempted to say it a million times, every time she referred to me as "we," but I'd always managed to keep my mouth shut. Now I'd gone and done it. A rash of giggles burst out in the room and Sister's eyes flew open wide.
"Master Garvey," she said, "you will spend the class on your knees in f
ront of the room."
Another giggle swept the room.
"And the next one who makes a sound will join Master Garvey."
There was absolute silence as I took up my position on the cold, cement floor. I tried to lean back on my heels, but Sister gave me a sharp rap on the rump with her pointer.
"At attention!" she said.
One of the girls burst out laughing.
"Miss Riley," said Sister, "join Master Garvey, please."
Wow, Sister must've really been in a lousy mood. I'd never seen her make a girl kneel before. Maggie appeared beside me, trying to look repentant, but not quite succeeding.
"Anyone else?" Sister demanded.
Absolute silence reigned again.
"All right," said Sister, "open your missals, please."
As soon as Sister's back was turned, Maggie stuffed a note into my hand. I unfolded it quietly and read it.
Dear Danny,
I saw you naked in the tub last night.
—Maggie
"Master Garvey!"
"Uh ... yes, Sister?"
"Would you care to read your note for the class please?"
"Uh ... no, Sister. I really don't think—"
"Read it!"
"Yes, ma'am."
SIXTEEN
Maggie and I each got assigned five full rosaries to be said before bedtime. In addition, because I happen to be the boy, which automatically makes me the guilty one in Sister's eyes, I got to endure Sister's idea of the ultimate torture. I had to pull my pants legs up and kneel on the floor for the rest of the class with my bare knees in a pile of uncooked rice. It's a pretty good torture, believe me.
"I'm gonna kill her," I told Mickey as I hobbled up the stairs after class. "One of these days I'm gonna kill her."
"Sister?"
"No—Maggie."
Mickey laughed. "Oh yeah," he said. "Well, not today. Today you're gonna ask her to the movies, remember?"
I pushed the door open and stepped out into the bright sunshine. "Not on your life," I told Mickey.
He grabbed my collar and pulled my face up to his. "A deal is a deal, Garvey," he said. "You still owe me."
I pushed him away and bent down to rub my aching knees. "Yeah, yeah," I said. "But I won't forget this, Mickey. Just wait 'til next time you owe me."
"Sure, sure. Look, here they come. You do the asking."
"Me!"
"Just do it, Garvey."
Maggie and Kitty came out of the church giggling hysterically. Mickey shoved me right out in front of them.
"Oh, Danny," said Maggie, going off into another fit of laughter, "you were so-o-o funny. I thought Sister was going to faint on the spot."
"Oh yeah, real funny," I said. "It's gonna be real funny spending Saturday night saying rosaries, too, isn't it?"
Maggie burst out laughing again. "Oh come on," she said. "You're not really gonna do it, are you?"
I stared at her. It had never occurred to me not to.
"Aren't you?" I asked.
"Of course not, silly."
"But it'll be a mortal sin."
"Oh, Danny." She laughed again. "You are so-o-o funny."
The way she kept laughing made me mad, like she thought I was some kind of a little kid or something. I stuck out my chest. "Of course I'm not gonna say it," I said, all the time trembling inside, waiting to be struck dead on the spot.
"Oh yeah, I'll bet," said Maggie.
Mickey stepped forward and bumped me in the shoulder. I didn't say anything. He bumped me harder.
"Well, see you later," said Maggie. She and Kitty started to walk away.
Mickey bumped me so hard I practically fell over.
I scowled at him, then yelled after the girls, "Hey. Wait a minute."
Maggie stopped and looked back. Mickey and Kitty glanced at each other, turned red, and then both stared down at the sidewalk.
"Yea, what?" asked Maggie.
"You ... uh ... wanna go to the mfff-ffff," I mumbled.
"To the what?"
"The movies," I said, my face burning. "Do you want to go to the movies with Mickey and me?"
Maggie looked at me like I was crazy.
"Why?" she asked.
"Beats me," I said.
Mickey gave me another shove.
Maggie looked at him, then she looked at Kitty, who was still staring at the sidewalk, her face beet-red.
Maggie started to grin. "Oh, I get it," she said. "Well ... I don't know. What's playing?"
"You know what's playing. Tom Mix in—"
Mickey suddenly grabbed my arm and yanked me off balance. That did it. Owe him or not, I'd had it.
"Look," I said. "You touch me one more time and I'm gonna break every bone in your body."
"All right, all right. Shush, will you?"
He steered me to one side and whispered in my ear, "We're not taking them to the matinee, dummy. We're taking them to the real show."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"But what about the serial? I gotta see what happens."
"Ask somebody."
"Come on, Mick."
"Look, Danny, we're going to see A Farewell to Arms, and that's that."
"A Farewell to Arms! That's nothing but a sob story."
"I know." Mickey grinned and made his voice even lower. "Girls love that stuff. Tony Maretti took his girl to see it, and she let him put his arm around her all the way home."
"Well, whoopie," I said.
"Grow up, Garvey, and just go tell 'em."
"Why don't you tell 'em, if you're so smooth?"
"Because you owe—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
I turned back to the girls. "We're gonna see A Farewell to Arms," I said.
Maggie's eyes lit up. "You mean that movie with Helen Hayes and Gary Cooper?"
I looked at Mickey. He nodded.
"Yup," I said.
Maggie looked at Kitty. Kitty gave her a shy, sideways smile. Maggie looked at me again.
"You payin'?"
"Yup."
"Popcorn and sodas, too?"
Mickey nodded.
"Yup."
"Wow ... sure," said Maggie. "What time?"
"Oh, about six-thirty," said Mickey, suddenly finding his voice.
"Great," said Maggie. "See you then."
She and Kitty put their heads together and giggled, then ran off toward home. We watched them go, then Mickey gave me another nudge.
"Hey, Dan?"
"What?"
"Did she really see you naked?"
SEVENTEEN
A knock came on our door at exactly six-thirty. "I'll get it, Ma," I yelled. "It's probably Mick." I pulled the door open, and there stood the funniest sight I'd ever seen. Mickey had on a slouch hat, somebody's ratty old raccoon coat that was so big it was dragging on the ground, a shirt and tie, knickers, and argyle socks. "You must be pulling my leg," I said, trying not to laugh.
"What?" asked Mickey. "What's the problem?" He strode past me into the room, and I practically choked on the smell of dime-store cologne.
"Well, Michael," said Mama, "don't you look like the cat's meow."
"The cat's meow?" I snorted. "He looks like a vaudeville clown."
"Now, Danny, don't be rude," said Mama. "I think Michael looks just lovely."
"Yeah, that's how he looks, okay, just lovely. You are just lovely, Michael."
Mickey squeezed his hand into a fist.
"That'll be enough, Daniel," said Mama. "It wouldn't hurt you to dress up a bit."
"Yeah," said Mickey. "Get changed, will you. You were supposed to be ready by now."
"What's wrong with what I got on?" I asked.
"You been playin' stickball all afternoon and ya smell," said Mama. "Go change yer shirt at least."
It was two against one, and I could see I wasn't gonna win, so I filled up the washbowl and carried it back to my room. By the time I came out again, Mickey was pacing back and forth.
/> "Will you hurry up," he said. "We're late."
"Hold your horses," I said. "You're the one who wanted me to change."
I kissed Ma good-bye and she looked at me funny.
"Your first date," she said, making a face like she was either gonna laugh or cry but couldn't decide which.
"It ain't a date," I said, grabbing my hat off the icebox and my jacket off its hook.
"You come home right after the show, now," Mama called after us. "Yer too young to be roamin' the streets at night."
Kitty answered the door, blushing beet-red again. She had on her Sunday dress, a ribbon in her hair, and real silk stockings! They must've been her moth er's, the way they bagged around the ankles, but they only had a couple of runs in them and I couldn't believe Mrs. Riley was letting her wear them.
The three of us stood there tongue-tied, trying to think of something to say while the rest of the little Rileys stood around giggling at us. Finally Maggie and her mother came out of the bedroom. Good old Maggie had on her everyday jumper and knee socks. At least somebody was still normal.
We said our good-byes and Mickey and Kitty started down the stairs, Mickey's coat dragging behind him like a royal robe. I jerked my thumb at him behind his back and rolled my eyes at Maggie. She burst out laughing.
Mickey looked back. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said.
Mickey turned his back again. This time Maggie pointed at him and held her nose, and I burst out laughing. Mickey stopped in his tracks. He came back up the stairs and grabbed my arm.
"Will you ladies excuse us?" he said.
Maggie and Kitty giggled as he steered me toward the back of the hall.
"Listen, Junior," he whispered. "I know this is asking a lot, but could you try not to act like a child, just for tonight?"
"Well, pardon me, Mister Crowley," I said. "I guess I forgot you're a man now."
"That's right. You wanna make something of it?"
I laughed. "I'm twice the man you are, Crowley."
"Then act it," said Mickey. He walked over and took Kitty's arm, and they started down the stairs again.
Junior. Huh! What was eating him? I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked past Maggie. "Let's go," I said.
Nothing to Fear Page 7