The Wine of Youth (5 page)

This was our chance to get even, and we knew it, and so did he. It was just like our Lord had planned it out for him to meet us. But I do not know if our Lord had planned it out for us to get even, because that is a grievous sin. I do not think our Lord had anything to do with that. I guess that was the Devil.

“Let's ding-bump him,” Worms said.

“Let's,” I said.

It takes two to ding-bump a man. You get him on his back, and one of you grab his arms, and the other his legs, and you lift him up and down as hard as you can, so that his seat bumps the ground.

Harold was so scared he did not fight back. We told him to get on his back, and he did it. We told him to take off his specs, and he did it. We told him we would teach him not to snitch, and he said he would not any more. He started to cry. That made me want to hurry up.

After we bumped him the first time, he yelled as loud as he could. The guys and Sister heard him, because they came running from everywhere. It is too bad the guys were not closer. They would of got a big kick out of it. Sister Cecilia was nearly running. She was almost half a mile away.

I saw a cactus plant with short thorns, not even half an inch long.

“Let's sit him in that, and then beat it,” I said.

We did it. We sat him in the cactus and ran away.

They nearly kicked us out of school for what we did. I mean the nuns.

We had to apologize to them and to Father Andrew and to the whole school. We got lickings at home and in school. We had to stay every night until five for a month. We did not get to go to the altar boy banquet.

But we did not care a bit. We got even. You can ask any of the guys about Harold Maguire now. They will tell you he used to be a snitch baby, but he is not one now. He is a swell guy now.

III

Bill Shafer is the worst altar boy in the bunch. He swipes stuff, and he chews gum before Communion. I do not see how he does it. I do not think his mother cares, because I saw him eat meat on Friday. It was a sandwich. His mother makes his lunch. If she cared, she would make him eat fish. Bill says it is not his sin if he eats meat. It is her sin. She put it in. Bill has four Sunday
suits. He wears them to school a lot. His mother is sure keen-looking. If my mother was as keen-looking as she is, I would sure feel good. I do not mean that my mother is not good-looking. I mean that Bill's mother is sure good-looking.

Bill showed me how to swipe agates at the ten-cent store. You open your waist, and then you lean away over the counter. When the girl is not looking, you roll the migs into your waist. It is a good way. It works every time. I do not think Bill told his in Confession, but I told Father Andrew mine.

Father Andrew said I had to return the migs or pay for them. He sure was sore. He almost hollered at me. Bill won all my migs, so I will have to pay for them with money sometime. I will do it when I get bigger. I bet Bill never does pay for his.

One time I was walking home from school with Bill. He had a dime, so we went to Drake's to get Eskimo pies.

When we were in there, he said: “Hey, do you want a fountain-pen?”

I said: “Sure.”

He said: “Wait a minute.”

He said to Mr. Drake: “Hey, Mr. Drake, can I use your phone?”

Mr. Drake said: “Sure.”

So Bill went to the phone in back. At first I wondered what the heck. Then I knew he was going to swipe a pen for me. I did not snitch, though; I am not a snitch baby. I did not watch, because Old Man Drake might catch on. He was piling Eskimo pies, and I looked at his bald head. His neck was real little. I started to think maybe somebody would come into the store. Maybe somebody would, then we would get caught and get sent to Golden. The big reform school is in Golden. Sister says there is not a Catholic boy in there. There never has been. If we were caught, we would be the first Catholics. I did not want to get caught. I thought I better pray that we would not get caught.

I looked at old Drake's bald head and prayed to myself. In my head, I mean.

I said: “Hail Mary, please do not let anybody come in. Please do not let anybody come in.”

The Blessed Virgin heard my prayer, because just then Bill came back.

When we got outside, he said: “Hey, come on. Run like hell.” Hell is not swearing. Hell is on every page of the Catechism. You can say it.

We did not stop until we got to the Twelfth Street bridge. We crawled under it.

Bill said: “Hey, that was sure easy as pie.”

I said: “Gee, Bill, you sure swipe stuff!” He did not say anything. We knew he committed a mortal sin, but we did not say anything.

He opened his waist and showed me. I thought he swiped one, but he swiped fifteen. They were in a box made out of velvet. They were pens that cost a whole lot. One of them had a ticket. It said: “$18.” I got scared to death.

Bill said: “Hey, which one do you want?”

I did not want Bill to think I was chicken or scared or yellow.

I said: “Oh, I will take this one.” I took the cheapest. It was five dollars.

He took the eighteen-dollar one and said: “Hey, what will we do with the rest?”

I said: “I do not know.”

He said: “Well, here goes.” He threw them into the water. It was a sandy bottom. You could see the pens.

I wanted to run. I am not goofy, and a fountain-pen does not scare me, but I wanted to run away. I did not want to go to Confession, because the last time I confessed stealing migs, and Father Andrew got sore. I mean he talked real loud. If I told him I swiped a five-dollar pen, I bet he would yell. The holy people outside would hear him.

Bill said: “Hey, we better beat it. Let me go first. You wait five minutes.”

He crawled away and left me all alone with the pens.

The pens did not scare me or anything, but I was scared about something. I got some rocks and mud and covered up the pens. It made the water muddy-looking. There was a long streak of muddy water. It made me feel like a thief. But Bill did it.

All of a sudden I felt like running. I crawled out and started in. I ran and ran. I forgot where I was going until I got right in front of Drake's. I nearly keeled over when I saw where I was. I was winded, but I started in again. I ran all the harder. Pretty
soon I was right in front of the church. The church and school are right next to each other. I thought it was funny as heck to be there again, because it was pretty near five o'clock, and a school is a punk place to be at five. I thought how come, and so I started for home.

I got a block away, and then I thought I better go back and say an Act of Contrition. Then I saw I was in a heck of a fix, because it says in the catechism that an Act of Contrition is good only if Confession cannot be had, and there I was only a block away from the priests' house. The priest would hear my Confession if I asked him. I thought I better go ahead and have it over with. Father Andrew would sure be sore.

Then I got a swell idea. I would ask for Father Joseph. He did not know about the migs, so he would not be hard on me. It was sure a good idea, because now I could go to Confession, and the fountain-pens would not scare me. I mean I would not be scared. Fountain-pens are nothing. It is nuts to be scared of them. I went back to the church. I ran all the way.

I asked the maid for Father Joseph, and he came down. Father Joseph has a great big belly and a double chin. He likes me. He says I am a keen pitcher. He knows a pitcher on the St. Louis Browns. He says I am the born image of this pitcher. I like Father Joseph very, very much.

I said: “Father, I want to go to Confession.”

He said: “Why not? So does everybody.”

We went into church, and Father got in the confessional.

I told him what I did. I did not snitch on Bill. I just said I was in bad company a little while ago, and I swiped a fountain-pen. I am not a snitch baby.

Father said I had to return the pen or what it was worth or he would not forgive me. I said I would. He gave me absolution. I went out to the altar and said my penance, which was five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys in honor of the Blessed Virgin. Father Joseph is sure a keen guy. He did not make me feel cheap at all. He hardly said anything.

I got outside and started for home. I felt just grand. I started whistling hymns like I always do after Confession. I had it all figured out about the five-dollar pen. I would keep it. I would
tell my mother I found it. It was a lie, but a lie is only a venial sin. You do not go to Hell if you have a venial sin on your soul. You go to Purgatory. Then you go to Heaven. Some day I will pay old Drake for it. I will do it when I get bigger. I bet Bill Shafer never pays for his.

IV

Bill Shafer used to chew gum before Communion. He sure thought he was tough. He sure thought he was smart. When you go to Communion you cannot eat or drink anything that is food or drink after midnight. You must fast. Bill used to come around to us guys before Communion and pop gum in our ears. He sure thought he was smart.

Sister caught him doing it, and she made him spit it out. It sure was keen, the way she told him to spit. He spit, and all of us guys laughed right out loud. We were in church too, only we were in the vestibule. Bill sure thought he was tough. We did not laugh like it was real funny. We laughed different, so Bill would sort of feel cheap.

We laughed like this: “He he he he.”

Bill said: “Hey, Sister, how come? Gum is not food or drink.”

Sister said: “Gum has sugar in it.”

We sure got a big kick out of it. Bill sure thought he was smart. He sure felt cheap.

The next day he did it again before Communion. I mean he popped his gum. He sure thought he was tough.

One of the guys snitched on him. I know who it was, but I am not going to snitch on him just because he snitched on Bill. I am not a snitch baby.

Sister pretty near ran to where Bill was standing. He was standing there popping. She got a hold of his hair and jerked him around and said: “Spit it out! Spit it out!”

Bill said: “Hey, Sister! No sugar in this gum. This is old gum. I been saving it.”

Sister said: “Say, young man, I have had enough of this. You must not dare go to Holy Communion this morning. The very
idea! Young man, I want you to see Father Andrew right after Mass.”

In the afternoon, in Catechism class, Sister sat right up in front of Bill and told him right out, right in front of us guys. She said what she thought of a boy who chewed gum before Communion. Gosh, she sure sailed in! Old Bill was sure sore. Sister said a guy who will do that must come from a funny home. I guess Sister is right, because I saw Bill's mother chew gum a lot. She is sure keen-looking. I mean Bill's mother. Not Sister. Sister is goofy-looking.

Then Sister told us a whole gob of stories about smart guys like Bill. She told us how they tried to be smart aleck with our Lord, and how He fixed them. He sure got even good and proper.

Sister said there was once another smart aleck like Bill who used to go to Communion every day. He went so many times that he got used to it, and pretty soon he started to be disrespectful. One morning he thought he would do something. Oh, yes, he thought he was smart. He was going to do something real swell. He was going to take the Sacred Host out of his mouth after he received, and then take it home. So he went to Communion.

He did what he said he was going to do. When he came back from the altar, he put the Sacred Host in a dirty handkerchief. It was awful. I can hardly think about a guy who would do any such thing. But our Lord sure fixed him good and proper.

When this rotten guy got home, he took out his handkerchief, and for gosh sakes, was he scared! His handkerchief was all bloody. Our Lord's blood was all in it!

When the guy saw this, he fell on his knees and asked God to forgive him, for God's sake. Then he got up and went away and became a priest. He was so holy they made him a bishop. He is one now. He is back east some place.

Old Bill kept saying: “Bull! bull! bull!” He sure thought he was smart. He took out his handkerchief and played like he was looking for blood. He sure thought he was a wise guy.

After school, Bill said to me and Allie Saler: “Hey, I bet she made up that story about the bishop.”

Allie said: “I bet she did not.”

Bill said: “Hey, what you want to bet I can do it without getting my handkerchief all bloody?”

I said: “I bet you a million dollars.”

Bill said: “Shake!”

We shook. I did not mean a real million dollars. I only have two dollars in my bank.

The next morning after Mass, Bill ran after me and Allie.

We were going home to breakfast. We go to Communion every morning in May.

He said: “Hey, you guys, come on! I want to show you.”

We went to the washroom in the basement. There were some fourth-grade punks standing around.

Bill said: “Hey, you little kids, beat it.”

We went into a washroom and locked the door. Bill took out his handkerchief. There was a Sacred Host in it. It was wrinkled and melty. You could see he took it out of his mouth.

I said: “Oh, my God!”

Allie made the sign of the cross. I thought it was a good thing to do, so I did too. Bill, he just laughed.

He said: “Hey, where is the blood?”

There was not a drop on it.

Allie said: “Come on, Jim. I have to go.”

Bill said: “Hey, where is the blood?”

I said: “Bill, God will sure get even with you for this.”

Bill said: “Hey, if you guys ever snitch, I sure will get even with you.”

We said we would not snitch.

When we got outside the washroom, we heard the water running. I bet Bill threw the Host in. That is a sacrilege, and a big one, I bet. Bill will get his. Our Lord will punish him. He sure thinks he is tough. He sure thinks he is smart.

V

My favorite saint is Saint James. He is the one I was named after. Saint Joseph used to be my favorite, but since writing letters to him never has done much good, I have changed back to Saint
James, and Saint Joseph is not like he used to be. It is a funny thing to think, but every time I pray to Saint Joseph I think about Joe Kraut. I mean every time I pray to him and I am not in front of his statue, which is supposed to look like him, I think about Joe Kraut, and Joe Kraut is not so swell to think about. Joe is only eleven, and he has three or four whiskers on his chin already, and he has a squashy chin, and he is fat. I guess maybe that is why Saint Joseph is so hard to pray to, on account of I think of Joe Kraut, and that is not such a keen thought. But I like Joe Kraut. He always has a nickel or so, so we go to the bakery after school and buy day-old pies.