Banana Man (a Novella) (10 page)

Even though it was well past four o’clock, he ran as fast as he could to the small store, clutching the dollar bill the whole way there. Soon he could see the open front door. Nobody walked in or out. That was a good sign. He hoped he had beaten his friend Chris to the store after all, and maybe he would get the last copy of the comic and be able to frame it on his wall beside the first edition his mother bought him. Maybe Farmer Cleary had kept his promise.

He ran through the open doorway and right up to the register. Mr. Cleary still sat on his barstool, and he still held
The Valley Tribune
in his hands. He smiled at the boy.

Danny was out of breath, but he managed to say, “I got it! Here’s the dollar!” He slapped the bill onto the counter. “Where’s Banana Man?”

Farmer Cleary shook his head slowly. “It’s gone. Your friend Chris came by a few minutes ago and he wanted it. So I sold it to him. Next time,” he said, “get here a little sooner. Sometimes a few minutes can make all the difference in the world.” Farmer Cleary stared at Danny with a puzzled look on his face. “Did you drag mud into my store?”

Danny’s eyes started to water, not a lot, but enough that Farmer Cleary would have noticed if he wasn’t inspecting the floor around the boy’s feet. Danny sniffled, and quickly wiped away his tears. “But you were supposed to hold it for me. I asked you to hold it,” Danny said.

“Cash is king,” Farmer Cleary said. “You’ll be fine. It’s just a comic. More will come in next month. Now get that broom again, and sweep out the floor. I can’t see it in this light, but you’ve been rolling around in the mud and I know you dragged some of it in here and made a mess of my floor.” Then an idea popped into the old man’s head. “If you want, I can take your dollar right now, and I’ll hold it for next month’s shipment. When your comic comes in, I’ll set aside a copy for you.” He winked at Danny. “Sort of like paying in advance.”

“It’s a bi-monthly comic! It won’t be back for another two months.” After everything that happened that afternoon, after fighting in the mud with Charlie and getting in trouble with Officer Tibbs, his copy was as good as gone. The other boys had theirs, but not Danny. They wouldn’t be trading that issue for older comics either, not for a second edition.

From the back office, Mrs. Cleary suddenly appeared. Her hair was white like Farmer Cleary’s except she had a lot more of it, and it was silky and long. She stormed into the front area, furious. Danny retreated a step. He had seen her get angry before. She whirled by Danny and immediately lashed out at her husband. “You are the meanest man in town! That boy asks you to hold a comic and you sell it from under his nose?”

Mr. Cleary rolled his eyes. “Damn it Faye, this is a store. People want something, they got to pay. A bucks a buck!” He slapped the counter to finalize his statement. All the fuss and the old man’s rising blood pressure got his glasses rocking on the end of his nose. Despite being upset, Danny couldn’t help but wonder if they were going to fall off.

Faye turned to Danny and her demeanor instantly softened; she went from mean old lady to nice as pie. Like a loving grandmother, she gently grasped Danny by the shoulders and, with a smile, brushed off some of the mud from his distraught face. Then she spoke to him very softly, “You go pick out a soda to take home with you. Take any one you want.”

The old man stood up and pounded the countertop with a clenched fist. His white mustache twitched with anger, and his glasses slipped off the end of his nose. He barely caught them in time before they struck the floor. Farmer Cleary started to protest. He held his finger in the air and his mouth open, ready to fire off some angry words, but Faye turned and jabbed a finger in his direction, and stopped him cold before he could utter a sound. She said, “And you, Mr. a bucks a buck, you sit your wrinkly butt down. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you.”

Farmer Cleary shut his mouth. He sat down on that wooden stool and scoffed. He was so angry that Danny thought he saw steam coming out his ears. He muttered to himself, loud enough so Faye could hear him but quiet enough so she couldn’t understand a word. Then he picked up the paper and pretended to read it.

She turned back to Danny and became nice as pie again. “Pick a soda. Any soda.”

Even though he was upset and hurt that Farmer Clearly had sold the last issue of Banana Man, the offer of free soda distracted Danny. He knew she was trying to make him feel better. Adults always gave kids stuff when they screwed up. The distraction worked, and Danny’s thoughts drifted toward an ice cold soda.

He meandered his way over to the refrigerator. Her words echoed in his mind with each step:
any soda
. He planted his little hands on the cold glass doors and peered inside. A multitude of ice cold sodas stared back at him. Every flavor he had ever tasted was in there, and some new ones. How in the world could he choose one? There were so many. Overwhelmed at the array of soda pop before him, he glanced back toward Faye for encouragement, and she smiled. Behind her, Mr. Cleary peeked over his newspaper and watched Danny’s every move.

Danny suddenly had the answer. He knew what kind he was going to get. He scanned through the sodas until he found it. Then he pulled open the glass door and wrapped his fingers around an ice cold bottle of cherry cola. Before he pulled it out of the fridge, he glanced back to make sure his choice was acceptable. Faye nodded, and Danny grabbed it and returned to the counter.

She handed his dollar back to him, and he stuffed it into his front pocket. Then she grabbed a brown lunch bag from behind the counter and slipped his soda inside. Next, she tossed a couple candy bars in.

Mr. Cleary, still peeking over the newspaper, got annoyed at the free candy bars. “Why don’t you bring your dad over, Danny, and take everything in the store!”

“Oh hush!” Faye said. “Now go home Danny. Next time we get Banana Man, I promise I’ll hold a copy for you.”

“Will not!” snapped Mr. Cleary.

She shot a glance at her husband, and he quickly hid behind the newspaper again.

“Thanks,” Danny said. It wasn’t much consolation for losing Banana Man, but every kid loved soda and candy bars, even more so when they were free.

“You’re welcome honey. Now go home to your father,” she said.

Danny walked out the door, and Faye followed him outside.

She stood on the wooden porch under the eave and leaned against a support post with badly chipping paint. She watched Danny while he walked away, his little hand clutching the brown bag.

Before he rounded the first block, he glanced back to see if she was still standing on the porch of the old store. She was, and she was still watching him. She smiled and waved. Although he didn’t understand why, he liked that she kept watching him. It made him feel good. He waved back, and then he turned the corner and couldn’t see her any more.

C
HAPTER FOURTEEN

$10,000

Danny walked the rest of the way home in the failing sunlight. His muddy clothes stuck to his skin, and the cold air made him think about the warm fire at home. The oak logs would be burning strong by now. The living room would be warm. He wanted to sit in his dad’s lap and fall asleep in his arms.

He didn’t drink his soda or eat one of the candy bars. He wasn’t in the mood. But he was glad to have them despite the fact his one and only chance to get the second edition of Banana Man was lost. He’d take the candy bars to school tomorrow, or maybe his dad would take them to work.

He entered the house, slipped the soda inside the fridge and set the candy on the kitchen table, and then went into the living room. Warm air greeted him. The oak logs burned bright and hot, and his dad relaxed on the recliner, enjoying the heat. When his father saw Danny, he laughed and said, “What in the world happened to you? Why are you covered in mud?”

“Charlie the dog tried to kill me when I cut through Tucker Street Alley, and I fell. Then officer Tibbs tried to give me a ticket. He’s mean. And later – ” Danny said, before his dad cut him off.

His dad pointed toward the back door of the house. “Outside. Knock the mud off your clothes. Take a shower and get cleaned up. You can tell me about your day when you’re done.”

Danny did as instructed and thirty minutes later came back into the room, showered and clean, and wearing pajamas.

His dad said, “Much better. Now, tell me what happened. Did you get your comic book? Did you get Banana Man?” The big man leaned back in the recliner, his hands clasped behind his head.

Danny sat down in front of the fire. “No! Mr. Cleary sold it even though he promised to keep it for me. He even hid it behind the counter. But when Chris got there he let him have it. ‘A bucks a buck!’ he said, ‘get here earlier next time!’ He’s a mean old man. I was late because Officer Tibbs almost gave me a ticket for crossing train tracks, and he sprayed a dog in the face with poison and punched Peter’s dad.” Danny paused in telling the story; his hard working father that left early in the morning and got home late in the afternoon, had fallen asleep. He quietly snored on the recliner. Danny sat beside the fire and watched him sleep for several minutes.

His dad snored once real loud and woke himself up, and then sat up. He rubbed his face with both hands and yawned. It took him a few seconds to focus in on Danny sitting by the fire. “Sounds like you had a fun day.” Next to the recliner was Danny’s backpack. His dad grabbed it. “Go through the mail. Don’t give me any bills or junk mail.” He tossed it to his son.

Danny unzipped the backpack and started taking the mail out. Without the rubber band holding it all together, the bundle of letters had become a messy bundle of letters. He took his time taking each piece out and stacking them into a neat pile in front of the fireplace; the larger envelopes on the very bottom and the smaller ones on top. Then he slowly and carefully examined each piece, holding it up to the firelight to see who sent the letter.

“Well?” his dad said.

“What?” Danny said with a shrug. “It’s all bills. You said not to give you bills.” The next piece of mail was a thick package, heavy and dense. Curious about what was inside, he held it up to the firelight to read the return address.

His dad immediately held out his hand. “Let me see that.” Danny handed it to him.

His dad opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of photographs that were taken on Danny’s birthday. Danny took a seat on the recliner’s arm for a better view, and father and son looked through the photos together.

There were many pictures of Danny and his friend Chris, and the twins Billy and Tom. Some showed them eating cake and ice cream, and others showed Danny opening his presents. Near the end of the stack his dad stopped at a particular photo. In the picture Danny held up the first issue of Banana Man for the photograph while his mom held him in her arms. Both of them were smiling; Danny at the comic book and his mom at her son.

“You really like that comic, don’t you?”

“It’s the best,” Danny said.

“I remember taking this photo. Your mother mailed in the roll to get developed. It’s cheaper when you mail it in. I thought the photos would get here sooner.” He handed it to Danny. “It goes in the frame on the mantel.”