John Fitzgerald GB 05 Great Bra (4 page)

“Why did you go through all that rigmarole with the tin cans and pretending you could hypnotize people?” I asked.

“Jerry showed me the trick with seven pennies,” Tom said. “But if I’d used pennies and offered to bet I could make the kids take the last one, they would have known it was a trick right away. Those kids weren’t betting I couldn’t make them take the last can. They were betting I couldn’t hypnotize them.”

“It was still a swindle,” I said.

“Wrong,” Tom said. “When Parley, Seth, Basil, and

Howard bet me, they were all positive they had a sure thing. And they won twenty-five cents from me. Do you think they swindled me out of my quarter?”

“Well, no,” I had to admit.

“And when Danny and Jimmie bet,” Tom said, “they were positive they had a sure thing and couldn’t lose. If they had won the three dollars and thirty-five cents from me, would you say they had swindled me?”

“Of course not,” I answered.

“Then how can you say I swindled them because I was positive that I had a sure thing?” Tom demanded.

I thought about it for a moment. “I guess you didn’t

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swindle them after all,” I had to admit.

“I accept your apology,” Tom said.

Frankie smiled at Tom. “Then you didn’t cheat,” he said as if the idea pleased him.

Tom ruffled Frankie’s hair with his fingers. “You can^t be guilty of cheating somebody,” he said, “if that person is trying to cheat you.”

Well, all I can say is that The Great Brain could talk himself out of anything. If he was caught stealing a horse, he would claim he was nearsighted and thought it was his lost milk cow. And for my money, he would get away with it.

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TOM DIDN’T MAKE AS MUCH money as I thought he would charging the kids to play basketball because soon we were able to go swimming. The first thing every kid looked forward to when summer vacation began was the day he could go swimming in the river. We sel-dom got any cold weather in Adenville during the winter because the town was located in southwestern Utah. But it did snow in the mountains west of Adenville. Until after that snow melted, the water in the river was too cold for swimming. So it was a great day for all the boys in town when we saw all the snow in the mountains was gone.

Tom and I were late getting to the swimming hole

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that afternoon because of Frankie. He wanted 10 go swimming with us and take along his playmate, Eddie Huddle.

“You are too little to go swimming,” Tom said.

Frankie began to cry. “You always say I’m too little,” he cried. “Too little to play baseball. Too little to play basketball. Now I’m too little to go swimming.”

“Stop bawling,” Tom said. “If Mamma says you can go, we will take you with us.”

Mamma surprised us by saying Frankie could go if we would watch out for him. She hadn’t let me go until I was seven years old. Then Eddie Huddle began to bawl.

“I wanna go swimmin* too,” he cried. “If Frankie goes I ain’t got nobody to play with.”

Frankie put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, “If Eddie can’t go,” he said to Tom and me, “I won’t go. And if I don’t go after Mamma telling you to take me, it means you can’t go.”

‘ What could Tom and I do? We walked to the blacksmith shop owned by Eddie’s father. Mr. Huddle said we could take Eddie if we kept a careful eye on him—

There were about fifty kids at the swimming hole. .We all went-swimming naked because nobody owned a bathing suit then. I had learned how to swim when Sweyn tossed me into the deepest part of the swimming hole from the diving board. But Frankie and Eddie were too young for this. Tom and I showed them how to pretend they were swimming by mud crawling. They could walk on their hands in the shallow water and, by kicking their legs, keep their bodies afloat. Tom and I took turns watching them. I knew from the fun the two kids were having that we would be stuck taking them swimming all summer.

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After swimming in the river began, the next thing we all looked forward to was the Fourth of July. Nobody in Adenville ever locked their barns until one week before the Fourth. Then suddenly the barns of everybody who was going to enter a float in the Fourth-of-July parade became forbidden territory. This was because people were secretly working on their floats. No one got to see the floats until the morning of the parade.

The first prize was a blue ribbon with the words “First Prize” printed on it. The second prize was a red ribbon and third prize a white ribbon. I doubt if these ribbons cost more than twenty-five cents each. But the way people worked on floats, you would have thought the ribbons were worth a fortune. Mamma had won one blue ribbon, two red ribbons, and two white ribbons over the years. This Fourth of July she was determined that she was going to win first prize.

And this Fourth of July Tom had made up his mind that the Gentile kids were going to win the tug of war. I’d better explain that back in those days anybody who wasn’t a Mormon was called a Gentiie in Utah. Every Fourth, ten Mormon kids and ten Gentile kids between the ages of eleven and twelve were chosen for the tug of war. The kids themselves selected the biggest and strongest boys for their teams. A rope was stretched across Aden Irrigation Canal, which was about three feet deep and ten feet wide and ran down one side of the town park. The teams lined up on each side of the canal. Then the tug of war began to see which team could pull the other into the canal.

The Gentile kids had been getting dunked in the canal ever since I could remember. It didn’t take a great

brain to figure out why. The Mormon kids outnumbered the Gentile kids in town by about four to one. This gave them a four-to-one advantage in picking the biggest and strongest kids for their team. That is why I thought Tom had suddenly came down with brain fever when he said he was going to put his great brain to work on how to win the tug of war. I knew even his great brain couldn’t make ten Gentile kids each grow ten pounds heavier and stronger in a week.

Mamma had a beaut of an idea for a float. She told us about it one night after supper.

“My entry is going to be entitled “The Ringing of the Liberty Bell,” she said, looking mighty pleased.

Papa nodded. “An excellent idea,” he said. “But you would need some sort of a belfry to hang the bell on. And I doubt if there is room enough in our buggy.”

“Mark is going to let us borrow his wagon,” Mamma said-.”We’ll move the buggy out of the barn and the wagon into it tomorrow.”

“That problem is solved,” Papa said, “but what are you going to use for a bell? We can’t use the town hall bell because it is used to summon the volunteer fire de- ‘partment in case of fire. And I doubt if Reverend Hoi-comb would want us to take the bell from the Community Church.”

“You are forgetting the schoolhouse bell,” Mamma said.

“Right,” Papa said. “I’m sure I can get Calvin Whitlock and the other two members of the school board to let us borrow the bell.”

“No,” Mamma said, to our surprise. “Mrs. Granger is a member of the school board and enters a float every

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year. I don’t want her to know about my idea. She might want to copy it and take the bell for her own float-You will just have to get the bell without permission from anybody. And wait until the evening of July third to do it.”

“Another excellent idea,” Papa said.

Well, all I can say is that it just goes to prove there is no figuring grownups. If Sweyn and Tom and I had told Papa and Mamma that we were going to steal the schoolhouse bell, they would have had a fit about it. Just for saying it we would have lost our allowances for six months. But there sat Papa and Mamma smiling proudly, as if stealing a schoolhouse bell wasn’t any crime at all. Their consciences weren’t bothering them a bit. Try and figure that one out because I can’t.

Uncle Mark’s wagon was moved into our barn the next day. Papa bought some lumber, Tom, Sweyn, and I helped him build a belfry on the bed of the wagon. The next day Mamma and Aunt Bertha began decorating the wagon. They wove red, white, and blue bunting between the spokes of the wheels and draped it around the body of the wagon and the seat. After the wagon was decorated, Mamma and Aunt Bertha began making the costumes my brothers and I would wear.

On the evening of July third Papa was nervous. Instead of smoking just one after-dinner cigar, he smoked two. Mamma kept looking out the bay window in the parlor. Finally she spoke.

“It is dark now; time to go get the bell,” she said as if Papa went out stealing schoolhouse bells every night of the week.

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1 Papa cleared his throat. “I’ve decided to take Sweyn and Tom with me,” he said. “I might need some help.” “Can I go, too?” I asked.

Papa must have wanted all the company he could get when he went out stealing bells. He said I could go with them. We left by the back door and went to the toolshed fora wrench. Papa motioned for us to follow him into the barn. He sat down on a bale of hay and began patting my dog Brownie and Frankie’s pup Prince on their heads.

“How much do you think that bell weighs?” he asked- “About twenty pounds,” Tom said.

“I’ve been thinking,” Papa said. “If I’m caught removing (he bell from the schoolhouse, it will make me the laughingstock of everybody in town. I’ll be the butt of jokes for years to come. Now you boys don’t want to see chat happen to your father, do you?”

What could we say after that dramatic appeal? We all said we wouldn’t want that to happen. And I knew

right then -why Papa wanted company when it came to

stealing the bell.

“Thank you, boys,” Papa said. “I’ll just sit here and keep the dogs company while you go get the bell.”

“If we get the bell for you, what do we get?” Tom asked.

“My undying thanks,” Papa said.

“And if we let Mamma think you helped to get the bell?” Tom asked.

“I see what you mean,” Papa said. “In addition to

my undying thanks, you will each receive fifty cents.” “You’ve got yourself a deal. Papa,” Tom said. Tom got Sweyn’s lariat and a gunnysack. He put the

lariat and wrench in the sack. He acted as scout, leading

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Sweyn and me down alleys and through vacant lots to the schoolhouse. Tom tried the door. It was locked.

“Now why would anybody be stupid enough to lock the door of a schoolhouse in the summertime?” he asked. “No kid in his right mind would enter a schoolhouse un-less he had to.”

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“One of the windows isn’t locked,” I said, “unless they fixed it. Mr. Standish complained because he couldn’t shut it last winter when it got a little cold.”

I showed Tom and Sweyn the window, which was open about two inches. Tom pushed it up.

“You stay here, J. D.,” he said, “and keep a sharp lookout.”

I watched my two brothers climb through the win-dow with the gunnysack. I kept a sharp lookout but didn’t know what for. All I saw was a stray dog.

I knew exactly what my two brothers would have to do to get the bell. In the hallway where the kids hung their coats and caps during school, there was a ladder nailed to the wall that led to the belfry trap door. Once they got into the belfry, Tom would have to tie the clapper of the bell with a piece of twine he’d brought along so the bell wouldn’t ring. Then they would have to loosen the L) bolt holding the bell. Once they got the bell on the floor of the belfry, they could tie one end of the lariat to it and lower it down into the hallway.

It seemed to me they were taking a long time but they finally came to the window. They had the bell, wrench, and lariat in the gunnysack. Tom climbed out the window and Sweyn handed him the gunnysack.

“You scout, J. D.,” Tom said. “S. D. and I will carry the gunnysack.”

I scouted and got us back to the barn without anybody seeing us. Papa had lit the kerosene lantern we kept in the barn and was sitting on a bale of hay, patting the heads of Brownie and Prince. He got up and helped my two brothers hang the bell on the homemade belfry on the wagon while I held the lantern. Then Papa stood back and admired the float-

“Don’t forget, boys,” he said. “Mum’s the word to

your mother.” Papa wanted to make sure he got credit for stealing the bell-

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Tom asked, grinning.

Papa took out his purse and gave each of us half a dollar. It made me wonder how many things Papa had done that Mamma didn’t know anything about.

Tom touched my arm. “Leave the dogs in the barn,” he whispered—

1 didn’t know why he wanted me to leave the dogs in

the barn, but I did. It was past my bedtime when we entered the house.

“The bell is on the float,” Papa told Mamma and

Aunt Bertha, looking as proud as if he had done it all by himself.

I’m telling you. Papa was really something some-times. But I didn’t mind him taking all the credit. I was

fifty cents richer than when I left the house. I went upstairs with Tom.

“Keep your clothes on,” Tom said. “We’re going out. That’s why I told you to leave the dogs in the barn. We

don’t want them following us. And be quiet so you don’t wake up Frankie.”

“Where are we going?” I whispered.

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“To fix it so those Mormon kids lose the tug of war tomorrow,” he said.

“Do you mean your great brain figured out a plan to dunk those Mormon kids in the canal?” I asked.

“I’ll not only dunk them,” Tom said, “but empty their pocketbooks at the same time.”

He removed the screen from our bedroom window, and we shinnied down the elm tree by the window-I followed him to the woodshed. He picked up a partly filled gunnysack and the ax and a shovel.

“What’s in the sack?” I asked.

“Wooden stakes,” he answered. “And stop asking questions. We have work to do.”

Just then the whistle at the powerhouse blew, signal-ing that it was nine o’clock and curfew time. No kid un-der sixteen was allowed on the streets after nine o’clock unless accompanied by an adult. This meant Tom and I had to be careful. I followed him down alleys on a round-about way to the town park. The park was one block square with a bandstand in the middle and picnic tables set under trees. It was bounded on one side by the Aden Irrigation Canal. Tom and I cut through the park to the bridge over the canal. We crossed the bridge and walked about fifteen feet below it to where the tug of war was always held. Tom dumped out the stakes from the gunnysack. They had sharp points on one end and were about two inches thick and eight inches long.