John Fitzgerald (10 page)

"Take
it," I said.

   
Then I got a chair and stood on it to put
my bank on the top shelf in the clothes closet. I knew Frankie couldn't reach
it there. And for all I knew this kid might turn out to be a safecracker as
well as a blackmailer. My conscience wasn't bothering me any more for telling
Frankie the ghost story. I had paid plenty for telling him a lie.

   
It had stopped raining by the time dinner
was served. Frankie put away more than his share of the roast chicken with
giblet gravy, chestnut dressing, mashed potatoes, and peas. He also ate a big
piece of angel food cake with ice cream.

I changed into my
play clothes after dinner, which we always ate at one o'clock on Sundays. There
were two things a kid could do and have a lot of fun after a rainstorm. He
could go walking on stilts through rain puddles or go wading through them
barefoot.

   
Mamma stopped me on my way through the
kitchen. "Take Frankie with you," she said.

   
"He can't walk on stilts," I
protested. "I'm going walking in the rain puddles."

   
"Not today you aren't," Mamma
said. "I'll change him into some of your old clothes. You can take him for
a ride in your wagon through the mud puddles and go barefoot yourself."

   
"Boy, oh, boy," I said with
disgust, "it is getting to where I'm nothing but Frankie's slave around
here."

   
"We don't know what your Uncle Mark is
going to find at the Pennyworth farmhouse," Mamma said sharply.
"Frankie may only be with us a few more days if your uncle locates some
relatives. You will treat Frankie as your own little brother for as long as he
is with us."

   
Mamma had spoiled my afternoon but had
given me hope. Uncle Mark was sure to find Frankie had relatives. I was ready
on the back porch when Mamma brought Frankie out. I had on knee pants and had
my shoes and stockings off to wade barefooted. Mamma had dressed Frankie in
some old jeans and shirt of mine.

   
I got my wagon off the porch. He climbed
into it. I pulled him out of the backyard and down the alley to the street. I
could see several kids wading through rain puddles on stilts or barefooted.
Howard Kay and Jimmie Peterson were both barefooted. They came running through
the rain puddles to meet me.

"Is that the
kid?" Howard asked, pointing at Frankie.

   
I figured everybody in town knew about
Frankie by now. "Yeah," I said. "His name is Frankie
Pennyworth."

   
Jimmie hitched up his jeans. His mother
always bought his clothing one size too big so he could wear clothes for two
years. "What a funny name," he said.

   
Howard Kay laughed. "A penny's worth
of what," he said.

   
Frankie looked at Jimmie. "Your pants
are too big and you look funny," he said. Then he looked at Howard.
"You've got a funny face," he said.

"Saucy
little kid,
ain't
you?" Howard said.

   
Just then I saw Seth Smith go riding by on
Tom's bike. He was deliberately riding through all the rain puddles he could.
No kid who owned a bike would do a thing like that. He would know it would rot
the tires and make the sprocket, chain, and spokes rusty.

   
"Is Sammy renting out Tom's bike on a
day like this?" I asked, although I knew the answer.

   
"Yeah," Howard said. "I saw
Danny Forester riding it through the deepest puddles he could find a while
ago."

"I'll put a
stop to that," I said. Boy, oh, boy, was I angry.

   
I pulled Frankie to the Smith's vacant lot.
Sammy was there with his alarm clock. Five kids were waiting to pay for a ride.
I let go of the handle of the wagon and walked up to Sammy.

   
"You can't rent Tom's bike when the
streets are muddy and the kids ride it through puddles," I said.
"You'll rot the tires and ruin the sprocket, chain, and spokes."

   
"What do I care?" Sammy asked
with a shrug. "It
ain't
my bike."

   
"If it was your bike," I said,
"I'll bet you wouldn't even use it yourself on a day like this."

   
"That is one bet you'd win,"
Sammy said. "But like I said, it
ain't
my
bike."

"You are a
no-good, yellow-bellied cheater," I said.

   
"Nobody calls me that and gets away
with it," Sammy said, handing the alarm clock to Parley Benson. He drew a
line in the muddy dirt with the toe of his shoe. "You
ain't
got your brother Tom here to protect you. Take it back or cross the line."

   
I knew Sammy was trying to get even with me
for the times my brother had whipped him. He was more than a head taller than
me and outweighed me plenty. I knew I didn't have a ghost of a chance of
beating him. I knew if I crossed the line I'd end up with a bloody nose and a
black eye. But I also knew I had to cross that line. For my money Sammy was a
no-good, yellow-bellied cheater and I wasn't going to take it back. I took off
my jacket and cap and handed them to Howard.

   
Parley Benson stepped between me and Sammy.
"This
ain't
a fair fight," he said.

   
"Any fight is a fair fight if a boy
steps across the line," Sammy said. "Tell him to take it back or
cross the line."

   
I motioned for Parley to get out of the
way. I doubled up my fists and put up my guard as I stepped across the line.

   
Sammy didn't even bother to take off his
cap and jacket, knowing he could whip me easily. He threw a punch at me. I
ducked. Then I began slamming away with both fists. I did get in a couple of
good punches before Sammy landed a haymaker on my left eye and knocked me down.
He jumped on top of me and straddled my body, pinning me down. He scooped up a
handful of mud. I knew he was going to make me take back what I'd said or eat
it.

I heard Frankie
yell, "You leave John alone!" Then Frankie jumped on Sammy's back. He
wrapped his arms around Sammy's neck. He got Sammy's right ear between his
teeth and bit it. Sammy reached to try to pull Frankie off his back, but
Frankie bit him on the hand so hard it made the hand bleed. Then he clamped his
teeth on Sammy's ear again.

"Get this
kid off me!" Sammy shouted.

None of the kids
watching made a move.

   
"You let John alone or I'll bite your
ear off!" Frankie yelled. Then he again clamped his teeth on Sammy's ear.

   
Sammy jumped to his feet, but Frankie still
clung to his back. He tried to grab Frankie's arms. Frankie bit him so hard it
made the ear bleed.

   
I was on my feet by this time. I stepped up
to Sammy. He started to raise his hands but dropped them when Frankie bit his
ear some more. I let Sammy have a haymaker on the nose so hard it made it
bleed. I wanted to hit him some more but it didn't seem fair when he was afraid
to hit back.

"Please get him
off me," Sammy pleaded.

   
"Word of honor, you won't try to get
even when I'm alone," I said.

"Word of
honor," Sammy said quickly.

   
"Word of honor, no more renting Tom's
bike when it rains," I said.

   
"Word of honor," Sammy cried.
"Just get this kid off my back before he bites off my ear. I don't want to
go around with just one ear."

   
Sammy was a bully and a slick one. But I
knew if he ever broke his word of honor, no kid in town would have anything to
do with him. I stepped behind him and put my hands under Frankie's armpits.

"You can let
go now, Frankie," I said.

He let go with
his teeth and arms. I lifted him down to the ground. He walked in front of
Sammy, who was holding a handkerchief to his ear. The handkerchief was red with
blood. Blood was running from his nose. Frankie kicked him on the shins.

   
"Don't you dare hurt John again,"
Frankie said, as if he was twice as big as Sammy.

   
Sammy looked at Parley Benson. "Tell
Seth to bring the bike to my house," he said. Then he started to run
faster than I'd ever seen him run before.

   
I learned later that Dr.
LeRoy
had to take three stitches in Sammy's right ear. The
big bully carried the scar for life.

   
Frankie climbed into the wagon. All the
kids just stood there staring at him with their mouths open. It was as if all
of them were suddenly paralyzed. I couldn't blame them for being stunned. Every
one of them was afraid of Sammy Leeds, except maybe Parley Benson. I couldn't
help feeling proud of Frankie as I pulled him in the wagon toward home. Maybe
he was a takeover kid when it came to my possessions but he had just proved he
liked me well enough to fight for me. And somehow that seemed to make
everything even.

   
I put the wagon on the back porch. Frankie
stood looking at it for a moment.

"My
wagon," he said.

   
I was about to tell him the wagon was too
big for him but I didn't. "Your wagon," I said.

   
I had a
beaut
of
a black eye so I had to tell Mamma, Papa, and Aunt Bertha about the fight.
Frankie helped me do my chores that afternoon. Uncle Mark came to the house
while we were doing them. He had spent the night at the Pennyworth farmhouse.
He was talking to Papa when Frankie and I entered the parlor.

Uncle Mark sure
looked pleased that Frankie had got rid of the mental block. "Do you
remember me?" he asked.

   
Frankie stared at him for a moment.
"You're the man on the horse with the badge," he said.

   
"Right you are," Uncle Mark said,
smiling. Then his face became serious. "Mr. Fitzgerald has told me about
the accident. But I want you to tell me all about it, too."

   
Frankie told him about the same thing he
had told me. When he finished, my uncle nodded his head and he looked at Papa.

   
"I think your deduction about there
being two slides is correct," he said. He shook his head sadly. "They
might have escaped if Mr. Pennyworth hadn't tried to save the horses."

"They are
all
deaded
," Frankie said.

   
I wondered why he always said "
deaded
" instead of "dead." I also wondered
why Mamma, who was in the parlor with Aunt Bertha at the time, didn't correct
him. If I as much as said "
ain't
" she
corrected me.

   
"Now, son," Uncle Mark said,
tapping a tin box with a lock on it that he was holding on his knees, "I
found the marriage license of your mother and father and the government
homestead papers in this box at the farmhouse. But I couldn't find any letters
from any relatives. Did your mother or father ever mention any relatives who
are living?"

"They are
all
deaded
," Frankie said.

   
Uncle Mark turned to Papa. "According
to the marriage license the Pennyworths were married in Sedalia, Missouri. I'll
send their marshal a telegram."

   
Mamma leaned forward in her chair.
"What if you fail to find any relatives?" she asked.

"I'll get a
court order and sell the farm at auction," Uncle Mark said. "I doubt
if it will bring much now that the Red Rock Canyon road can't be used any more.
Cathie will be
back
Thursday. We will talk about
Frankie's future then." I knew right then if Uncle Mark didn't find any relatives
that he and my aunt Cathie wanted to adopt Frankie. They didn't have any
children of their own. My aunt had given birth to a baby girl several years
before but the baby had been born dead and my aunt had almost died. Dr.
LeRoy
had told her and Uncle Mark if they tried to have any
more children Aunt Cathie might die.

The next morning
I got up and dressed for school.

"Where are
you going?" Frankie asked.

"I've got to
go to school today," I said.

   
"Willie didn't have to go to
school," he said. "Mamma and Papa taught Willie how to read and
write."

   
"It is different when you live in a
town," I said. "The only way a kid can miss one day of school is to
have some contagious disease."

"Why don't
you get one?" he asked.

   
"It wouldn't do any good," I
said. "Then I'd just have to stay after school and do extra homework until
I made up the time I lost."

"I don't
want you to go," he said.