John Fitzgerald GB 04 Great Bra (10 page)

Jerry stared at the brown paper bag when Tom and Tony returned to the washroom. “You did it!” he exclaimed, forgetting to keep his voice down-

“Be quiet,” Tom said.

“I’m all through except for mopping the floor,” Jerry whispered.

With Jerry and Tony helping him, Tom got the floor mopped quickly. He made sure the coast was clear and let his two friends out of the washroom. He had to wait un-til the floor was dry. Then he put the bag of candy under

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his shirt and went into the dormitory. His three friends were waiting for him on Jerry’s bunk.

“The candy cost a dollar,” he whispered. “If we sell all twenty bars at ten cents a bar the corporation will make a profit of one dollar. As ten-per

“Before you start selling it,” Jerry said, “how about each of us taking a bar of candy for ourselves?”

Tom’s money-loving heart and great brain had antici-pated this. He knew if they each took a bar of candy to eat, that would leave only sixteen bars of candy to sell, giving the corporation a profit of sixty cents. As ten-per-cent stockholders his three friends would be entitled to six cents each. This would leave him a profit of only fifty-two cents-And even if he sold his bar of candy for a dime his profit would only be sixty-two cents instead of seventy cents.

“We can’t do that,” he said, “unless I take seven bars of candy for each bar you take because I own seventy per cent of the corporation.”

“The candy bars only cost a nickel,” Jerry said. “Give us each a bar of candy and five cents for our share of the profits.”

It was a good thing Tom had a great brain or he might have fallen for that one. I know I would have.

“If you eat a bar of candy,” Tom said, “there is no profit on it-The only fair thing to do is for each of us to pay a dime for a bar of candy like everybody else.”

Phil shook his head. “I forgot to ask my folks for money Sunday,” he said.

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“You don’t need any money,” Tom said. “Just take one bar of candy as your share of the profits.”

Jerry nodded- “Let’s do it that way,” he said. “I’ll take a bar of candy instead of my share of the profits.”

“Me too,” Tony said.

Tom removed the bag of candy from under his shirt. His three friends each took one bar. Tom took a chocolate bar for himself, which he put in his pocket.

“Now Phil,” he said, “you go to the top of the stairway and act as lookout. If you see any of the priests com-ing up the stairs let me know.”

Tom waited until Phil had left the dormitory. Then he dumped the sixteen bars of candy on his bunk and clapped his hands for attention.

“Step right up, fellows,” he said. “The Academy Candy Store is now open for business. Get yourself a nice peanut, coconut, caramel, or chocolate bar for only a dime. No credit or promises. Cash only. Step right up, fellows. And remember to give me all the wrappers. You can’t have the candy unless you give me the wrappers.”

Tom knew it was important not to have any candy wrappers found by the priests. His plan was to put them in the paper bag and hide them under the statue of Saint Francis. Then on his next trip to the grocery store he would throw them away.

Tom had prepared the kids for this. Most of them had received money from their parents. He sold the sixteen bars of candy in about sixteen seconds. Poor old Sweyn didn’t have any money and didn’t get a bar of candy. He came over to Tom’s bunk.

“I call that pretty darn selfish,” he said. “All that

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candy and you wouldn’t give your own brother one bar of it.”

“You could have got some money from home like the other kids did,” Tom said. “And although I said no credit or promises that didn’t include my own brother.”

“It is too late now. It’s all gone,” Sweyn said as he looked with envy at all the kids chomping on candy bars.

Tom took the bar he had saved for himself and broke it in two. “You can have half of mine,” he said, “but that is five cents you owe me.”

Tom’s money-loving heart and his great brain had a real battle for the next couple of days. His money-loving heart told him to make two trips to the grocery store each week. His great brain told him only to make one trip on Friday evenings. His great brain won the battle for two reasons. Every Friday evening from seven thirty to eight thirty Father Rodriguez and the other priests attended vespers in the chapel. It was the one hour during the week when Tom didn’t have to worry about the superintendent coming to check on him in the washroom. And his great brain reminded him that if he brought too much candy into the academy some kid was liable to get a bellyache and have to go to the dispensary. And the boy might tell Father Rodriguez how he got the bellyache. Tom realized that he would have to be satisfied with a sixty-cent profit a week plus a bar of candy for himself.

All the boys including Tom were looking forward to their fourth Saturday at the academy. Father Rodriguez had announced they would go on a nature-study hike that

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would include a picnic. And he reminded students they would be permitted to purchase ten cents worth of candy. Tom knew he wouldn’t sell any candy that week but it was worth it just knowing he would get outside the academy for one day.

Tom felt like a prisoner on parole as he marched out of the academy grounds on Saturday morning. Father Rodriguez led the boys with Father O’Malley and Father Petrie bringing up the rear, carrying a big basket of food. They marched to the business section five blocks from the academy to catch a streetcar.

They rode the streetcar to the end of the line and then hiked along a road until they came to a trail that led into a mountain canyon. They hiked two miles up the trail to a picnic ground. Tom admitted it was worth the walk just to see the aspen trees with their leaves so golden and orange at that time of year. And he enjoyed the nature-study lectures that Father Rodriguez gave because his great brain learned new things about plants and trees. They got to roast frankfurters over a campfire for lunch, which was a real treat.

Yes sir, Tom was really enjoying himself—until they returned to the city and got off the streetcar in the business district. It was time to buy the candy. And Tom knew the only place that sold candy in that neighborhood was the grocery store owned by the fat man. He tried to think of some way he could avoid entering the store. But Father Rodriguez put a stop to his wondering in a hurry.

“You boys will line up on the left and enter the store one at a time,” the superintendent said. “I shall be inside to make certain you only buy ten cents worth of candy.

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When you come out of the store, line up on the right side. Father O’Malley and Father Petrie will remain outside to make certain none of you tries to repeat.”

It was like a sentence of death to the Academy Candy Store. Tom knew he would soon be expelled and on his way home. He leaned forward and whispered to Jerry.

“Better buy jawbreakers so they will last,” he said. “This is the end of the Academy Candy Store. When the proprietor sees me it will be all over. He is bound to tell Father Rodriguez this is where I’ve been buying the candy.”

I can’t even describe the anguish Tom felt at that moment. Losing a profit of sixty cents a week plus a free bar of candy was enough to break any kid’s heart, let alone a money-loving heart like Tom’s. And believing he would be expelled was enough to make tears come into his eyes.

I know if I’d been in Tom’s shoes at that moment, rather than return home in disgrace I would have run away and become a vagabond, a lost soul wandering from city to city and port to port for the rest of my days.

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TOM AND I HAD WORKED OUT a system before he went away to the academy. We both knew that Papa and Mamma would expect me to let them read any letters my brother wrote to me. To get around this, Tom always enclosed two letters in the envelope. One was a nice brotherly letter saying how much he missed me and the fam-ily. The other one gave me the real lowdown on what was happening at the academy. That was why I was astonished when the second monthly report arrived from Father Rodriguez. It was a good report saying Tom had gone an entire month without getting any demerits.

Papa was so flabbergasted that he read the report

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twice. Even that didn’t convince him his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. He had Mamma read the report aloud. And then, having convinced himself it was true, he immediately took all the credit.

“I told you it was just a matter of giving Tom time to adjust,” he said proudly.

Papa hadn’t told us any such thing. Mamma had been the one who said it. Papa often took credit for things Mamma said, but she usually let him get away with it.

The difference between the report and what Tom had written me about his second month at the academy left me with but one conclusion. The Great Brain was pulling the wool over the eyes of the Jesuit priests, just as he had done to a lot of adults in Adenville.

Now remember, when we left Tom he was standing in front of the grocery store where he had been buying candy for his candy store. He felt like a fellow about to enter the den of a hungry lion. He was sure the proprietor would tell on him and he would be expelled. Then he happened to look up at the sign over the store which read:

HAGEN’S GROCERY STORE AND MEAT MARKET

This wouldn’t mean a thing to a kid in Tom’s shoes unless he had a great brain like my brother. Tom knew that Hagen was a German name and most Germans were Lutherans. His great brain told him that Mr. Hagen wasn’t a Catholic, or else Father Rodriguez wouldn’t have to stand guard to make sure no kid bought more than ten cents worth of candy. Also the owner of the store would be losing a dollar’s worth of candy business a week if he told Father Rodriguez. Tom kept his fingers crossed as he en-102

tered the store. His future depended upon Mr. Hagen. The fat proprietor looked at him as if he had never seen him before and Tom uncrossed his fingers and smiled.

“What kind of candy do you want, young fellow?” Mr. Hagen asked.

Tom bought ten cents worth of licorice and pepper-mint sticks. He felt like whistling as he walked out of the store and joined Jerry in the line.

“He isn’t going to tell,” he whispered. “The candy store is still in business.”

Tom wondered why Father Rodriguez was so strict about candy in the academy. He decided to ask Father O’Malley about it when school let out on Monday.

“Why does Father Rudriguez only let the fellows buy candy once every four weeks?” he asked.

“There was a time,” Father O’Malley said, “when the boys could have all the sweets they wanted. Parents were permitted to bring candy every visiting day. Out-of-town parents were permitted to mail candy to their sons. And on Saturdays the boys could go to the store and buy all the candy they wanted.”

“Why did Father Rodriguez stop it?” Tom asked.

“Because some of the boys ate so many sweets we had an epidemic of stomachaches,” Father O’Malley answered. “And others weren’t eating all of their meals to give them a balanced diet.”

“That makes sense,” Tom admitted. “But why doesn’t Father Rodriguez tell that to the fellows instead of just saying candy is bad for the teeth and health?”

“It amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?” Father O’Malley answered.

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Tom made a trip to the grocery store Friday evening while the priests were at vespers.

“I’ll bet you have been wondering why I didn’t tell on you,” the fat proprietor said.

Tom knew the answer but wanted to hear what the man would say.

“Why didn’t you tell?” he asked.

“I knew you had to be from the academy,” Mr. Hagen said. “And I’ve heard those priests treat you kids like you were inmates in a reformatory. So I just kept my mouth shut.”

Tom knew there was another reason. Mr. Hagen didn’t want to lose a dollar’s worth of candy business a week. But he didn’t say anything.

As usual Jerry, Phil, and Tony each took a bar of candy as Eheir share of the profits. Tom kept a bar for himself and sold the rest, making a neat profit of sixty cents. Everything was just hunky-dory until the next morning when Father Rodriguez sent for Tom. The Great Brain couldn’t imagine what the superintendent wanted, unless some kid had snitched about the candy store. He was expecting the usual stern look on the priest’s face when he entered the superintendent’s office. Instead, for the first time, he saw Father Rodriguez actually smiling.

“I know you have anxiously been waiting for this day to arrive,” Father Rodriguez said.

“I have, Father?” Tom asked, puzzled. “Why?”

“Come now, Thomas,” the priest chided him. “I know you have been counting the days you have been cleaning the washroom. And as of today you have gone an

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entire month without getting a single demerit. I congratulate you.”

Tom sure as heck didn’t feel like being congratulated. He felt like giving himself a hard kick in the behind for not remembering to get some demerits so he wouldn’t lose the washroom job. Without it the Academy Candy Store would be out of business. He had to keep that job.

“I would hate to have it on my conscience,” he said, ” that some boy failed because he didn’t have enough time to study on account of having to clean the washroom. Los-ing part of my study period doesn’t bother me because of my great brain. So maybe you should make the washroom my permanent work assignment.”

“You are really full of surprises today,” the priest said. “The boy who cleans the washroom has ample time to study. Your permanent work assignment will be the hallway on the dormitory floor. You will sweep and dust it every day and on Saturdays you will mop and polish it.”

Tom made one desperate last attempt to save his candy store. “If you haven’t anybody to do the job,” he said, “I can take care of the washruom until you get somebody.”