WAY THINGS USED TO BE 5

(Cont'd from Way Things Used To Be 4)

Marble Season
 Part 4

One day Barry Bogardus and Kenny Nails were watching Cedric pick up marbles and stick them into his side pocket as they bounced off his cigar box. As always, Cedric's mouth hung open, and he had the usual blank expression on his face. I saw Bogardus whisper something. Kenny Nails nodded and did his windshield wiper laugh.

Bogardus walked over to where Cedric was sitting on the curb and kicked the toe of his black loafer into Cedric's bulging marble pocket. The whole big bulge erupted and marbles went bouncing all across 88th Street.

"Hock scramble!" a kid named Red called and the marble shooters ran over to snatch up Cedric's marbles. If nobody called "hock scramble" you were supposed to give them back, but once somebody called it you were allowed to keep whatever you picked up. It was a rule meant for when kids dropped a few marbles accidentally. Nobody had ever intentionally kicked a kid's pocket before and no previous hock scramble had been on anything like that scale.

Bogardus and Kenny Nails shoved their hands into their overcoat pockets, bent their knees and shook their hips to laugh at the kids diving for Cedric's marbles, and at the still blank expression on Cedric's face. That made me hate Barry as much as I hated the Japs and Germans. A guy his size and age wasn't supposed to kick the pocket of a kid Cedric's size. But he was too big. I was afraid to say anything so I just picked up as many as I could and gave them back to Cedric.

Cedric didn't protest and his face didn't change, but from then on, he kept his pocket zipped. He picked up marbles as they bounced off, same as ever, but now he held them in his tan woolen glove, and looked round for Bogardus, Kenny Nails and any other potential pocket-kickers. If the coast was clear, he unzipped his pocket, put in the marbles and zipped it up again.

It reminded me of what Blue Book said about the kids with cigar boxes turning into bankers when they grew up. I couldn't see Cedric turning into a banker, but I could see him as the proprietor of a drug store in a bad neighborhood. If he got held up, he wouldn't protest. And the expression on his face wouldn't change. He'd just lock the drug store door, and from that time on, open it only for customers he recognized.

(To be continued in Way Things Used To Be 6)

If you have time to leave a comment, I'd appreciate reading it.

herb@oldtimewriter.com