Schwinn Black Phantom

by Perkins, Sue

• ISBN13: 9781466921313
• ISBN10: 1466921315
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2012-03-27
• Publisher: Trafford on Demand Pub

Excerpts

The bath felt real good. I used to get all stiff and sore sometimes from not moving around much, and I was having one of those days. I was excited about going to Whitey's house, but at the same time I was kind of low. I kept thinking of all the fun I could have with this new friend, if only I could just get up out of that tub and not have to put on the stupid brace. If only I could throw the crutch out the window and never see it again. If only I could run and jump and climb trees and play shortstop and ride my bike. If only. I was letting myself get into a bad funk, when Dad opened the bathroom door and peeked in. "Can I help you, Rastus?" Dad always seemed to know when I needed a budge. A ten-year-old kid doesn't like to feel helpless, and I certainly wasn't. But I let my dad pull me up and lift me out of the tub this time. Sometimes, a guy just gives it up a little. He wrapped the towel around me and offered to help me dress and put the brace on my leg. "I can do it, Dad." "I know. You're a tough kid." He still helped me. It's times like this that tell you you're a lucky stiff to have a good dad and mom and even a good sis who is nice to you most of the time. I could smell fresh baked cookies as Dad and I came into the kitchen where Mom was cutting up onions. "Dad and I are having liver and onions and brussel sprouts while you're at Whitey's." I thought that was good planning on her part and thanked her. "Your sister is having supper at Patty's house with Virginia. They're having a slumber party." I was thinking that my parents were going to be awful bored with everybody gone for the whole night. Mom had put my pajamas, tooth brush, clean underwear and my comb into a pillow case. "Anything else you want to take over there?" I told her I didn't think so, and I told her all the plans for the evening. Mom was slipping my favorite chocolate chip cookies into a used bread wrapper. She saved all those bread bags with the polka dots on them to put Dad's lunches in. There was a whole drawer full of them. "Dad's going to carry your stuff and walk over there with you. It's almost five, so you can go now. Give me a kiss. You smell so nice and clean!" I gave her a kiss, even though I was only going across the street and down two houses and only staying overnight. Whitey, his mom and Samson were watching us from the porch steps before we even got there. "This is my dog. His name is Samson, and he's real friendly. And this is my mom." I don't think Whitey was used to introducing people. I noticed that the dog came first. "Hello, Mr. Hearst. I'm Norma Swift. We're so glad Warren could spend the night. We've heard so much about him from Whitey, and I think the boys will have a wonderful time! I made my famous macaroni and cheese. It's my son's favorite." Dad gave her the cookies, and she seemed a little surprised and nervous talking to him. Thinking back on the conversation that I overheard between Mom and Dad in the kitchen about Whitey's father, I realized that Mrs. Swift might have been cautious talking to any man. "Cookies! How nice! Thank you." Knowing what I know now, I figure that Whitey's Mom wouldn't have expected to see any man carrying a plate of cookies to anyone. That was a woman's work. "Warren's been looking forward to this all day." Dad ruffled my hair and told me to behave myself and have a good time. I felt kind of bad when he went home, because he was going to have to eat liver and onions all alone with Mom. Whitey carried my stuff and took me down the hall to the back of the house where his room was. I could hear Mrs. Hearst talking in the kitchen. I guessed that it must have been his Grandma Mac out there with her. Whitey's room wasn't very big. It had a twin bed, and there were some cushions from the sofa on the floor next to it. "I'm sleeping on the floor next to you. You're company, so you get the bed." Whitey showed me his stuff, much of which was under his bed and in the bottom of his little closet. He had a lot of cool soldiers and tanks and cars, and he told me he would show me where he made a battlefield in the dirt out back by the shed ... just as he planned. "Soup's on!" We heard from the kitchen. I got to meet Grandma Mac, who was putting some pineapple and cottage cheese and lettuce salads by our plates. I never had had that kind of salad, but it looked good. There was a huge pan of gooey, yellow macaroni and cheese sitting on a pad in the center of the table. "Sit! Don't be bashful, Warren." There was a glass of milk by my plate. "Say Grace, Whitey." "Thank You for this good food, God ... and for my friend. Amen." It was a quick prayer, and Mrs. Swift shoveled a pile of the macaroni on each of our plates. It smelled real good, and to this day I love macaroni and cheese, except when it comes in a cardboard box with film over the top. Whitey was strung tight all through supper. He acted like he had an appointment in an hour, but it didn't stop him from eating a big plate full with second helpings. Grandma Mac asked me if I was a member of the CLEAN PLATE CLUB. I said no, but I usually cleaned my plate anyway. "We must remember that there are starving children over in Europe." I didn't quite get what that had to do with my own plate, but I nodded "yes" and shoveled it in. "Can I show Thump my battlefield out back before it gets dark?" His mom said he could. "You two can have some of these wonderful cookies when you come in and listen to EDGAR BERGEN and CHARLIE McCARTHY in your room." "Can we be excused?" "What do you say to your mother, Whitey?" Grandma Mac said. "Thanks for the supper, Ma." "Yeah. Thanks." I added as Whitey jumped up from the table, and Samson wiggled out from between the table legs. Grandma Mac was nice and not even scary looking. It was about six thirty when Samson crowded ahead of us on the way out the back door to see the battlefield. Some soldiers were down in little trenches that Whitey had dug. Others were positioned around in the hills waiting for the enemy. There was one very large crater that must have been dug by the dog. "Cool, huh?" "Yeah, Coooool. I could bring my soldiers over, and we could have a battle!" Then, Whitey started whispering for me to come sit on a wooden bench by the shed. "We don't have much time, but here's the plan." "WHAT plan?" I had been waiting for what seemed like forever to hear the plan. "I gotta talk fast, 'cause we got lots to do. We're gonna look at this battlefield for about five minutes, and then we go in for cookies and CHARLIE McCARTHY in my room. We goof around with my cars and look at comics. When it starts to get dark we'll watch lightening bugs for a few minutes. Then we get under the covers about eight thirty and listen to the radio and talk. I think Duffy's Tavern is on. Don't take off your clothes or nuthin'. Mom will probably look in and tell us not to stay awake too late, but she'll kind of leave us alone after that, I think. I'm gonna tell her that you're used to being asleep before nine since you were real sick, and I'll shut the bedroom door. We put a bunch of junk under the sheets to make it look like we're in bed asleep. Then we go out my window. If she finds out we're gone, we'll probably be in real hot water, but it'll be worth it. Trust me. Don't ask any questions now. Just play along with me like you always do. Let's go in and have the cookies." Whitey's eyes were darting from side to side and up and down. They were glassy and glowing. I recognized that look, believe me. "Criminey. You're out of your cotton-pickin' mind!"Whitey said there wasn't any time to argue, so I shut my trap and clumped along behind him to his bed room. I had a bad feeling about climbing out Whitey's bedroom window. I just knew I would probably break my good leg.