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Post by RJH on Sept 4, 2013 22:49:14 GMT -5
Prologue: I think I've had enough of writing "worst" episodes. I liked the idea of a serial, but that "Stand Up For Me" thread didn't turn out so well. I still hate to see an unfinished story, but didn't want to bump that thread, so I edited my last post in that to include a part six for the way the story started out. Now I would like to see if I can write something that isn't deliberately awful. I had this idea of writing a long adventure, and throwing in references to as many Our Gang films as possible, say setting 100 as a goal. I don't know how this will work out. I may listen to suggestions if there are any, and corrections. I won't attempt to match the dialect closely; I know I can't do that. This will probably be updated sporadically and may take a year to complete. Even now I'm thinking that this might be better placed in the "Anything but Little Rascals" section. This is set in June 1926, using characters who were around at that time, but the emphasis will be on the Mary, Queen of Tots cast. Older characters are likely to pop up at some point. The events of some films may be deemed to have occurred while others haven't. As examples the events from the first "Our Gang" have occurred, while those in "Ask Grandma" haven't; these will be mentioned at the appropriate times. More details will be added as the story and time permits
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Post by RJH on Sept 4, 2013 22:56:59 GMT -5
The day after school ended for the summer the gang met in the park to decide what to do now that they were free from their daily lessons. It was a large park on the side of a hill, surrounded by a street on one side, a vacant lot on an adjacent side, and woods on the other two. There was talk of fishing, playing baseball, hunting bears, and becoming pirates. But all of those ideas were quickly dismissed when Mickey was hit in the face by a rotten tomato. When he turned to see who threw it, he spotted his old nemesis, Toughey, leading the rival gang who called themselves the Man-Eating Tiger Cubs of Wildcat Alley. Some months before the Tiger Cubs had tried to steal food from a local grocer. On the verge of getting caught, they framed the gang by running past them and putting some fruit in their hands. When the truth came out, the Tiger Cubs were punished and considered Our Gang snitches, and vowed revenge. It would have been cowardly for the Our Gang boys to run away, so they stood their ground to put up a fight. The one who did run away was Mango, who had been tagging along to Farina’s annoyance. Once on the sidewalk, she spotted Mary walking briskly toward the park from two blocks away. Mary lived in the nicer part of town, and her house was farther away from the park and in the opposite direction from all of the boys, so she was bound to arrive a few minutes later. As it happened, Mango was excited to have news, and ran down the street toward Mary. Mary figured something unusual must be happened, and when they were close enough to talk, she asked, “Hi Mango, what’s going on?” “The gang is in a big fight. Hurry up!” Mary quickened her pace, hoping to see Mickey and his friends win. However, the fight proceeded rapidly, and she would miss it. Perhaps that was fortunate. After running out of rotten fruit to throw, the Man-Eating Tiger Cubs stormed the field to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Besides Toughey, other members called themselves Toughy and Tuffy, as the leader insisted that all their names be spelled differently. Another Tiger Cub called himself Scrappy. While they weren’t their real names, no one dared call them by anything else. Taken by surprise, combined with the fact that the Tiger Cubs had done some practicing in preparation for the ambush, the fight went badly for the gang. Joe held off Toughy for a few seconds, but then wasn’t able to react fast enough to a one-two combination to his stomach and then his head. He got knocked down to the ground with a black eye. Jackie was overmatched in size, but his quickness made up for that for a short time. Then at the end of a punch, Tuffy grabbed a chunk of Jackie’s hair and held on. It was a dirty move, but that was the norm for the Tiger Cubs. Tuffy twisted Jackie’s head and then hit him in the jaw, sending him to the ground. The most painful part was when Tuffy didn’t let go of Jackie’s hair, which resulted in that clump of hair being pulled out. Jay R. pointed out, “It ain’t right to hit a man with glasses,” but Scrappy didn’t care. After a couple of punches were exchanged, Jay R.’s glasses flew off, and with his vision suddenly terribly blurred, he was no match for his opponent and was promptly knocked to the ground. Johnny seemed to be a magnet for the rotten fruit, having been hit by more of it than anyone else. While he was wiping it off his face, Scrappy connected with a sucker punch to the jaw from behind, and then another blow to the chin left Johnny dazed and on the ground. Bonedust tripped over his own feet trying to avoid a punch, and rolled along the ground to the edge of the woods bordering the park. Feeling blood coming down his face from a scratch, he grabbed the closest leaf, tearing it from a vine along the ground. While he succeeded in wiping the blood from his face, he would find out an hour later that the leaf was poison ivy. Mickey was at a disadvantage from the start as the initial tomato thrown left small pieces in his eyes, obscuring his vision. He soon found himself face to face with Toughey, whose vision wasn’t obscured in the least. While a fair fight would have lasted longer, Mickey’s vision caused his punches to be a little off target and his reflexes slow when it came to blocking Toughey’s blows, and it was over quickly. A quick flurry of punches sent Mickey to the ground, and he could only lie there dazed with several bruises on his face. The last gang member standing was Farina, who had been ignored because he wasn’t considered a threat. This assessment was accurate, as none of his punches bothered any Tiger Cub when he was occupied with another gang member, and when Farina threw a desperate punch that missed, Toughey grabbed him and with a little help stuffed him head first into a garbage can. The can was the steel mesh type and was half full of smelly garbage. Toughey then pushed the can over and kicked it down the hill, coming to a stop when it rolled against some bushes at the edge of the woods. As he struggled out of the can while very dizzy, he saw that he landed very close to a black cat. It had a funny shape for a cat, with a white stripe down its back. “ Wait a minute, that’s not a cat,” he thought, “that’s a...” “Auugh!” Covering his face, Farina was doused with a smelly liquid. His efforts at crawling out of the garbage can agitated the skunk further, and the animal sprayed Farina again and again while he was still trapped in the can. By the time Farina scrambled out, he and every article of his clothing was saturated with the vile smelling liquid. The Tiger Cubs laughed and taunted the gang, with Toughey shouting, “Don’t ever mess with us again. And if you see us, you might want to get out of our way.” The Cubs left the park and sauntered into the business part of town. The gang slowly regrouped, struggling to their feet. “What are we going to do?” asked Johnny. “I don’t know, but we have to do something,” replied Mickey. “We got to get cleaned up. How about we meet up outside my house after lunch … P. U!, Farina, what happened to you?” Farina had finally clambered up the hill to the rest of the gang. “I got skunked!” “Well, stay away from us until you don’t smell like a skunk. Now let’s go.” With Mickey at the front and Farina far in the rear, the gang reached the sidewalk at the top edge of the park just as Mary and Mango arrived. Mary gasped when she saw the condition of the gang. When Mickey forced himself to look at Mary, he noticed that in addition to concern, there was an unmistakable look of disappointment in Mary’s eyes. While Mary didn’t say anything, Mickey felt that Mary would rather be with someone who could do a much better job of defending himself. After an awkward silence, Mary asked, “Can I do anything for you?” Mickey shook his head. “I’ll see you later.” Mickey headed home, pondering how he would defeat the Wildcat Alley Tiger Cubs and win Mary’s admiration.
[image by mtw12055]
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Post by RJH on Sept 22, 2013 23:45:34 GMT -5
As a member of the police force was sick, Detective Jinks was called upon to perform guard duty at the county jail. This proved to be a serious error, as when Jinks’ back was turned, Blow-em-up Baker deftly lifted the jailhouse keys form Jinks’ pocket. After Jinks had left the cell block, Baker used the keys to open his cell door, and that of his confederates Red Mike and Moonshine Mose. They found that one of the other keys on the keychain opened a supply closet, where they changed from their black and white striped prison outfits for spare guard uniforms.
Another one of the keys opened a side door, and they casually strode outside to a parking lot where they found Jinks’ car. They got in, and drove off with no one questioning them. They discussed where they should hide out, and Mose suggested his place where he had run his moonshine operation. He had rigged the house with surveillance equipment and secret rooms, and there was a small store of cash, weapons, and supplies there. There they could discuss how to get back into business, namely coming up with a scheme to quickly obtain a large sum of money.
Realizing it might not be a good idea to hang onto the cop’s car for long, they drove it out of town, parked it next to another car in a parking lot next to a sign advertising the DeRues Trained Animal show, and with their combined expertise easily stole that car, which turned out to belong to Mr. DeRues. They quickly proceed to Mose’s hideout, but were careful not to attract any attention.
Mickey sneaked into his house, trying to clean up without his mother noticing. He made it to the bathroom unseen, but his mother heard the running water while he was washing dirt and a small amount of blood from this face. Not expecting Mickey back so soon, his mother was waiting when he emerged. She gasped at the sight of his bruised face and torn clothes.
“Mickey! Have you been fighting?”
“Uhh …”
“I told you many times that you are to grow up a gentleman.”
“But those Tiger Cubs attacked us. I couldn’t just run away.”
“I’m sure you could. And stay out of those situations in the future. Anyway, now that school’s out you can start up violin lessons and dance lessons.”
“Aw, Ma.”
“No backtalk. And since you don’t seem to have anything better to do, go to your room and start practicing.”
Pouting, Mickey retreated to his room. He took out his violin and sullenly drew the bow across it a few times. Then he perked up when he heard a knock on his door, the pattern which was used only by his grandmother.
“Come in.”
Mickey’s grandma entered carrying a box. “I heard some of what your mother was saying to you, but can you tell me the whole story?”
“Sure, Grandma. Me and the gang were in the park figuring out what we wanted to do, when we got jumped by those stupid Tiger Cubs. They … beat us up pretty bad.”
Grandma sadly shook her head. “So I suppose your mother wants you to avoid those situations?”
“Yeah, she wants me to run away. I can’t be running away scared from everything. And she wants me to be a sissy dancer or violin player.”
“Now, dancers and musicians aren’t necessarily sissies, but you shouldn’t be forced to do those things if that’s not what you really want. I sense there’s something more; would you like to tell me about it?”
Mickey paused, and admitted, “Yeah, it was Mary, the way she looked at me when she saw me after the fight. It was like … she was disappointed, and wants a man who can defend himself.”
Now Grandma cracked a smile. “I thought it was something like that. I understand, and in this case I think your mother’s all wet.”
“Thanks, Grandma. But what can I do about it?”
“I have something here from your grandfather. He asked me to give it to you when I felt it was the right time, and I think that time is now. Here, open it.”
Mickey took the box his grandmother offered, and opened it to reveal a pair of old boxing gloves. Immediately his eyes lit up.
“Thanks, Grandma! I’m sure to be a better fighter now!”
“You’re welcome, but it will take more than that to become a better fighter. There’s more. Look in the bottom of the box.”
Mickey extracted a book from the bottom of the box, and read the title, “How to Be a Fighter in Ten Easy Lessons.”
“Is this book that good? It sounds too easy.”
“It did quite well for your grandfather in his day. Of course you’ll have to put in a lot of work. Do you think you can get your friends to get in on this? You’ll have to find a place to train, and get equipment, but I know you’re resourceful.”
“Grandma, the whole gang got whupped. I’m sure they’d love to be part of this, get better, and then get revenge on those Tiger Cubs. There must be a gym or barn somewhere we can use. And equipment … maybe we can find stuff in the junkyard over the big hill.”
Granny smiled, as she had clearly brightened her grandson’s mood. “Now you’re thinking. I’m sure that when you see your friends next you’ll come up with something good.”
On the other side of town, Mary returned home in a rather confused state. She was worried about the gang, especially Mickey, and was afraid that she had said or did something to make him upset. As usual, her parents weren’t around. Her father, while certainly successful, was always involved in his business affairs, and her mother was always attending events for the high society ladies. Sometimes Mary’s mother hosted events at their house, but on this day she was at a long luncheon at another house. Mary didn’t get any sympathy from the person left in charge of her, her mean governess, so Mary accepted the task of taking her baby sister in a stroller for a walk. Barely a year old, Mildred couldn’t speak coherently, but it helped Mary to explain her concerns to the baby anyway. Mary didn’t consciously follow a planned route, but in any case she headed for Mickey’s house.
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Post by RJH on Oct 14, 2013 22:42:12 GMT -5
When Joe got home, he tried to sneak into the kitchen to find something cold from the icebox to put on his black eye, but that strategy wasn’t going to work since his mother was there. The confrontation was unavoidable. Upon seeing her son, his mother exclaimed, “Joe! How many times have I told you no fighting?” “But Ma, the Tiger Cubs jumped us, and …” “You know you’re not supposed to get involved. Just run away. Now look at you.” “But …” “No more buts. Here, take this for your eye.” Joe’s mother took out a fish wrapped in paper from the icebox. “Now, into the tub for you.” “I don’t need a bath.” “You’re filthy! You’re not eating in this house until you’re cleaned up. Now no more arguing!” Defeated, Joe plodded off to the bathroom and filled the tub. He brought some old clothes from his room to change into afterward, but was in for a rude surprise. After asking Joe if he was in the tub, his mother barged in, scooped up the clothes Joe intended to change into, and replaced them with a set of baby clothes. This set was intended as a Halloween costume that didn’t sell very well, and was a little too small for the rapidly growing Joe. “You can wear these when you’re done. Hopefully this will teach you to be a gentleman and stop fighting at any excuse.” Joe was too stunned to react before his mother left the bathroom. When he was done with his bath, he had to put something on, and the only choice was that set of frilly baby clothes, complete with a cute bonnet. Reluctantly, he put them on and intended to go to his room to change into something better, but his mother intercepted him. “Joe, let me see that eye. Good, the swelling is going down. Now go clean up the yard. When you’re done with that you can play with that gang of yours.” “But … do I have to wear this in front of them?” “Yes. That’s what you wear for the rest of today. And no more fighting, or it will be those clothes for a week!” Joe wasn’t going to win this argument with his unreasonable mother, so he went outside to clean up the yard. If anyone made fun of him, he would probably clobber them regardless of his mother’s warning.
Mango ran ahead and bounced to the front door, and couldn’t wait to tell her mother the news. “Mama, Farina got in a fight and got sprayed by a skunk!” Farina and Mango’s mother was not pleased to be disturbed from her work cleaning laundry, but was concerned. “How bad is it?” “It’s very bad.” The mother stepped outside as Farina approached the house. When he got within ten feet of his mother, she recoiled at the stench and exclaimed, “Lord have mercy! Don’t you dare come into this house smelling like that!” “Sorry, Mama. What do you want me do?” “Go out in back by the barn. I’ll fill the wash tub. You wash up there and don’t come inside until that awful smell is off you and your clothes.” “You mean I have to take a bath outside?” “That’s what happens when you play with skunks. Now scat!” “I wasn’t playing …” but his mother wasn’t interested in the details, so Farina did as he was told. When he entered the back yard, Dinah the Mule took one whiff, reared back on her hind legs, and sprinted for the farthest corner of the barn. Farina stood by the fence while his mother filled a metal tub, about four feet in diameter and two feet high, from the hose. Mango watched with amusement. The mother spoke, “Mango, get inside. Farina, here’s all the soap we have. Now get in this tub and wash yourself and those clothes. Hang those clothes on that clothesline when you’re done.” “Yes, Mama. Wait, I’ll need some other clothes to wear.” “If you put on any other clothes smelling like that, you’ll ruin those as well.” “Then what am I supposed to wear?” “The same as your big brother used to when all his clothes were hanging out to dry. Put on a small barrel or keg with the bottom cut out – oh, I’ll find one.” She found an empty keg labeled “Nails” about eighteen inches tall and eighteen inches in diameter at its widest, and nailed two straps a couple feet long to the top so it could be placed on Farina’s shoulders. She knocked out the bottom of the keg with a hammer, and returned to the washtub. “Here, this will fit you nicely. Now stay by the fence till we get inside. When your clothes are on the line I’ll come out to see if you’re clean enough.” “I can keep watch to let you know when Farina’s done!” piped up Mango. “Thank you honey. I’m glad someone in the family had enough sense to stay away from all the trouble.” Mango and her mother went inside the house as Farina groaned. Expecting Mango to be watching from a window, Farina walked from the fence to the metal washtub, and stepped in still fully clothed. Only after he sat down did he remove his clothes, and set to washing them and himself for the next hour, until all the soap had dissolved.
Jackie had a less trying experience at his home than his friends. His mother was more accepting of the rough-and-tumble nature of her mischievous child. “You don’t look like you’re hurt too bad, but you’re a mess. Go wash up in the bath … and do something about that hair! I have to go out shopping now, so be a good boy and don’t get into any more trouble.” "Yes, Mother." Jackie’s mother left, not really expecting Jackie to stay out of trouble for long, but what else could she do? Jackie dutifully took his bath, figuring that if he was good for a while it would help for the next time he did something fun. When he was finished, he stepped out of the bath, dried himself off, and put on some old clothes. His hair being a mess, he attempted to comb it. Unfortunately several teeth of the comb tore out, and he rummaged around looking for something else. Entering the kitchen, he looked over a variety of utensils. First he tried running a fork through his hair, but that was tedious. Then he spotted his family’s new electric egg beater. He plugged it in, pushed a button to turn it on, and became mesmerized by the spinning blades. Overcome by curiosity, he let the implement come closer and closer to his head. Soon the blades caught the ends of some of his hair, and it twisted around wildly before he pulled the device free. He experienced a tingling sensation that he had try again. By moving the egg beater around, and turning it on and off almost at random until his head tingled all over. Jackie felt a lot better about himself. He put the egg beater down, and had the presence of mind to extract a few strands of hair from, figuring his mother would probably object to hair getting in their food. Returning to the bathroom to admire himself in the mirror, he was impressed with his exaggerated hairstyle. It had the additional benefit of hiding the region where his hair had been torn out in the fight. He now knew what to do whenever he wanted to look his best – in his opinion at least.
[Last image by mtw12055]
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Post by RJH on Nov 14, 2013 1:03:12 GMT -5
With all the soap dissolved, Farina carefully placed the small barrel over his head and stood up in the wash basin. The barrel fit quite well, with the straps fitting comfortably on his shoulders so that the barrel covered his body from his waist to the top of his knees, and he was able to walk with very little effort. He picked up his clothes from the edge of the wash basin, wrung out the water, and hung them on the clothesline. Curious, he took a whiff of his shirt to see if the skunk smell had been washed out. A moment later he was recoiling in disgust; only a tiny fraction of the powerful odor had dissipated.
Farina approached the back door, but Mango was waiting, having watched her brother’s travails. She eagerly announced, “Mama, Farina’s coming, and his clothes still stink.”
Their mother came to the back door and opened it. “Farina, hold still. Let me … ugh! Why did you stop bathing? You smell only a little better than before.” “Mama, I ran out of soap.”
The mother sighed. “Then I guess Mango will have to go down to the store to get some more.”
“Hey, why do I have to go?” asked Mango.
“I’m busy, and you can guess what would happen if Farina tried to go in the store.”
“He’d make everything in the store smell like skunk?”
“That’s right. Now let’s see how those clothes are doing.”
The mother went to the clothesline, and made a grimace as she got close enough to smell the clothes hanging on the line.
“Oh Lord, nothing on Earth will ever get the stink out of those clothes. Farina, you have to bury them.”
“What?”
“You heard me. We can’t have those clothes stinking up this house ever.”
“So where should I bury them? In the back yard?”
“No! Far away from here, and anybody else’s house. The junkyard over the hill should be a good place.”
“You mean I have to go there in this barrel?”
“I told you, you’re not ruining any more clothes before you’re clean. And I want those stinking clothes out of here now! And let this be a lesson to you about messing around with skunks.”
Farina could sense he wasn’t going to win this argument. He came up with a stalling tactic.
“But that junkyard’s like half a mile away! I need something to eat first.”
“Fine, I’ll make you a sandwich. Now just stay in the back yard, and don’t come near the house.”
The mother gave Mango a nickel to buy soap. Farina noted, “Hey Mango, make it fast, I don’t want to be stuck with this barrel all day.”
Mango giggled. As she left the house, Farina climbed the fence to peer over it. He saw Mango skipping about, weaving from side to side, and not making good time to the store. Farina thought, “Me and my big mouth. Now she probably won’t get back until just before dark.” With nothing else to do for the moment, Farina paced the yard back and forth.
Mickey went outside and started walking up the street. First he came to Johnny’s house. Johnny answered when Mickey knocked on the door.
“What’s up, Mickey?”
“I couldn’t wait to round up the gang to discuss what to do about … you know … this morning. Like we need to train to become better fighters. You in?”
“Sounds good to me. What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe we could make a gym. Let’s get everybody else and figure the best way to do this.”
The two of them continued up the street to Jay R.’s house. Jay was just leaving his house on his way to Mickey’s for the gang meeting.
“What’s going on?” asked Jay.
“I got an idea we need to train in a gym and become better fighters and whip those Tiger Cubs,” replied Mickey. “How does that sound?”
“That sounds good. But … how are we going to get a gym?”
“I know,” said Johnny. “Mr. Jones got busted for bootlegging and is spending a month in jail. We can use his barn until he gets out.”
“That could work,” reasoned Mickey. “We should check it out.”
By this time Jackie had left his house and saw the group on the street.
“Hi guys, what’s going on?”
“We’re organizing a gym, and are thinking of using Old Man Jones’s barn since he’ll be locked up for a while,” answered Mickey. “And we’ll train until we can lick those Tiger Cubs.”
“Yeah, let’s get revenge.”
Johnny noted, “We need to plan this. What equipment do we have?”
“I just got a pair of boxing gloves,” said Mickey.
“We’ll need a lot more than that.”
“Let’s get everyone together, and see what we can come up with.”
The next closest house was Bonedust’s. The group headed there, and knocked on the door. Bonedust emerged with a long piece of cloth wrapped around his face.
“Eww, Bonedust, what happened?” asked Mickey.
“Aw, it turns out I fell into poison ivy and got it all over my face. I have to keep this thing on so I don’t scratch it and make it worse.”
“Gosh, crazy stuff like that sure happens to you a lot.”
Bonedust groaned, and changed the subject. “What are you all up to?”
“We’re going to make a gym, and train, and become good enough fighters to take care of those stinking Tiger Cubs. You in?”
“Sure I’m in. I just have to be careful for a couple days. Where is this gym?”
“We hope to use Jones’s barn, and figure out what equipment we need. And it can’t cost much – none of us has much money.”
“You can get all kinds of stuff for free at the junkyard.”
The other boys exchanged glances.
“That’s a good idea!” commented Mickey. “Come on, let’s go get Joe now.”
The gang headed a few more houses down the block to Joe’s house. They heard some noises in the back yard, so went around to the back. They all started laughing at the sight of Joe in baby clothes raking debris into a neat pile. When Joe heard the gang, he stopped, growled, and practically threatened them.
“Stop laughing! These were the only clothes my Ma had for me. And I’m going to pound the next one who laughs.”
“Calm down, everyone,” commanded Mickey the peacemaker. “We’re planning on organizing a gym, hopefully at Jones’s barn. What do you say?”
“Well, my Ma doesn’t want me fighting but … so what. I’m my own man. Let’s do this.”
“Is she making you wear those baby clothes because you were fighting?” asked Jackie.
Joe made a face, which was enough of an answer.
“And we’re thinking of getting stuff from the junkyard to equip our gym,” continued Mickey.
“So we’ll bring stuff from the junkyard to Jones’s Barn?” commented Joe. “That’s kind of a long way. We need a wagon or something.”
“The only wagon I know that we might get is the one Farina and his Pa use to deliver laundry.”
“Farina was totally worthless as a fighter but he may be good for something here,” noted Jay.
“His place is on the way to the junkyard,” observed Mickey. “Let’s ask if we can use that wagon. Or Joe, do you have to keep working in your yard?”
Joe had enough of work, even if he had to venture out dressed as a baby. “I’m coming. And remember what I said about laughing at me.”
“We won’t,” Mickey promised hopefully. “We’re all in this together.”
The gang headed towards Farina’s house.
Two blocks behind, Mary was pushing Mildred in the baby buggy when she caught sight of the gang. They were too far away to shout at each other, so she went faster to try to catch up. Preoccupied with this effort, she didn’t notice a car containing three unsavory men drive slowly past her.
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Post by RJH on Dec 1, 2013 23:21:23 GMT -5
This story now assumes that the events of “Stage Fright” have taken place. As for ages, say Mickey, Mary, and Johnny, are nine, Joe, Jackie, Jay R. and Bonedust eight, Farina six, and Mango four. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gang reached Farina’s house. They went around the side, where the back yard was fenced in, and climbed enough to peer over the top. There quickly ensued a chorus of laughter at the sight of Farina pacing around in nothing but the small barrel. Farina looked up, and snarled.
“So what do y’all want?”
Mickey settled down first. “Hey, we decided to make a gym in Jones’s barn and get stuff from the junkyard to equip it, and we’d like to borrow your wagon to haul the stuff.”
Farina liked the idea, but had to impose a condition. “You need to stop laughing at me.”
Mickey: “Fine. Can we borrow the wagon?”
Farina: “I don’t know if we’ll need it today.”
At that point Farina’s mother came out with the sandwich. She kept her distance from her smelly son and placed the sandwich on a stool.
“Now as soon as you finish this you have to go and bury those stinky clothes.”
There was quite of audible chorus of giggles from behind the fence.
“Oh, your friends are here? How come?”
“We want to borrow Dinah and the wagon to bring stuff from the junkyard to make a gym so we can train and defend ourselves better.”
Farina’s mother looked at him as if unsure he was being serious. Mickey stepped to the gate.
“That’s right, Ma’am. We promise we’ll take good care of them.”
The mother considered, and responded, “It turns out I’ll finish the last batch of laundry soon, so we need the wagon for delivery this afternoon. Now that school’s out, Farina was going to make the deliveries, but the way he’s smelling now we can’t let him anywhere near the laundry, so his Pa will have to deliver it today. At least if he’s recovered from a hangover by then. But it’s good you’re headed toward the junkyard. Farina needs to go there to bury the clothes he got skunk spray all over; there’s no way that smell will ever come out of them. Just see that that goes okay and you can borrow the wagon tomorrow. Let’s hope Farina smells decent by then.”
The fact that he was going to drive the wagon was news to Farina. For years he had wanted to drive, and now he was old enough to get the chance. On the other hand, it meant more work for him over the summer. Also, he felt his mother was talking too much. “Ma, you’re embarrassing me. And I don’t need them to check up on me.”
“That’s enough, young man. Just be sure to bury those three feet deep, and behind the junkyard where they won’t bother anyone again.”
“Couldn’t we just burn my clothes instead? It would be a lot easier.”
“I’m afraid of what the smell might do to the neighborhood. Now I’ve got work to finish.”
His mother went back inside, and Farina devoured his sandwich quickly. While he was getting a shovel from the barn, Mary caught up with the gang outside the fence. Mickey was quick to notice her arrival, and stepped toward her to greet her.
“Hi Mickey, what’s going on?’’
Mickey had thought about keeping the gym a secret from Mary, hoping his development into a better fighter would be a surprise, but considering the amount of time the gang would need to spend there, Mary would find out pretty soon anyway. “Oh, hi Mary, we’re on our way to the junkyard to get stuff for our gym.”
“Your gym? What gym?”
“I figured the gang needs to … uh train so that we …”
“Can lick those mean Tiger Cubs next time?” Mary had no problem reading Mickey’s mind.
“Uh, yeah.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. What can I do to help?”
“Well, this is men stuff. The junkyard is no place for a lady.”
“I’m not afraid of a little dirt!”
“But your baby sister …” Mickey pointed at Mildred in the stroller Mary was pushing. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble for getting her dirty.”
“Oh, I guess you’re right. But we can watch.”
“Oh, any chance you got a pair of boxing gloves at your house? My Grandma gave me one, but you really need two to … spar, that’s it.”
“Boxing gloves? I don’t think so. Maybe we could raise money somehow to get another pair.”
“That’s good thinking.”
Mary looked ahead, and noticed something odd. “Why is Joe dressed like a baby?”
Mickey replied, “He said those were the only clothes his Ma set out for him. I think it’s about her not wanting him to fight. But a man has to stand up for himself, right?”
“Of course.” Some parents just don’t understand. “Like my parents never pay attention to me,” she thought. “Just don’t say anything to Joe about it.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
At that point Farina emerged from his back yard, an old shovel slung over one shoulder and the other arm cradling his wet, smelly clothes against his stomach, balancing them on the top of the barrel in front of him. When the gate banged shut, Mary turned around, and gasped at the sight, and covered her eyes. Farina collected himself, and due to his bad mood, asked in a tone much harsher than he had ever spoken to Mary. “So what’s your problem?”
Mary brought her hands down “You … your clothes …”
“Look, I got skunked, and I have to bury my clothes.”
“But … are you so poor you don’t have any other clothes?”
“No! But Mama says I’ll ruin anything else I put on while I’m smelling like this. We ran out of soap so Mango is getting more. And you’ve seen me kind of like this all those days rehearsing for that stupid Roman play Miss Ochletree had us do. So I just want to get this over with.”
“Oh, I’m sorry …”
Farina marched on uphill up the street toward the junkyard. The rest of the gang moved to the other side of the street to avoid the smell. Mary asked Mickey,
“I guess Farina’s having a really bad day.”
“Yeah, and he’s not the only one. Actually I remember seeing Ernie in a barrel when all his clothes were being washed, but he didn’t smell like that. That was before you moved into town. Anyway, like my Grandma says, we have to make things better for ourselves.”
Mickey and Mary followed the rest of the gang. Mary wanted to change the subject to anything else, and came up with, “Hey Jackie, I like what you did with your hair.”
Jackie was taken by surprise. “Uh, thank you.”
“Did you do something different?”
“Just an egg-beater.”
Mary didn’t know what to say after that.
Along the way Farina noticed he wasn’t the only one unusually dressed. This made him feel a little better. He called across the street, “Hey Joe, what’s up with the baby stuff?”
Joe realized no one explained his outfit to Farina, and Joe was not in the mood to say anything. Farina continued, “You look ridiculous in those baby clothes.”
“You look ridiculous in that barrel.”
“This is better than wearing baby clothes.”
“How about I come over and pound you?”
“You come close to me and I’ll get skunk smell on you.”
“Knock it off, you two!” interjected Mickey.”
“When we get the gym going, you guys can have a boxing match,” commented Jackie.
“I don’t think that would be a fair match,” observed Johnny.
As the gang reached the last intersection before the junkyard, they were oblivious to a slow-moving black car. As they passed Farina, one of the passengers exclaimed, “Step on it, Mose! Get away from that smell!”
The car turned the corner, while the gang continued in a straight line to the top of the tall hill, and fifty yards onto the other side where the junkyard was located.
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Post by RJH on Dec 31, 2013 15:45:58 GMT -5
The gang arrived at the junkyard past the top of the hill just at one o’clock on the bright sunny afternoon. Farina kept going, about twenty yards past, to look for a good spot to bury his skunky clothes. He found a spot where the ground was soft enough to dig, cast his clothes aside, and got to work. Mary stayed at the near edge of the junkyard, just at the point where the smell was noticeable, so as not to aggravate baby Mildred in the carriage. The rest of the gang meandered through the piles of junk looking for what could be used in their new gym. Jackie came across a discarded water bottle. “We could stuff this with sand or something and make it into a punching bag.” “You mean a speed bag, and you’d need two or three of those tied together to make it big enough,” replied Joe. “We also need a heavy bag. What would work … hey look at this!” Joe found a duffel bag with a broken zipper. “We can fill this up and hang it up from this end.” In another part of the junkyard, Johnny had made a find. “Hey, here’s a mattress we can use as the floor of our boxing ring.” “We need more than that,” noted Mickey. “How many do you think?” “If we can find five, that would be good. We can put two of them side by side, and three more crosswise. That would be close to a square.” They rummaged through the myriad piles of junk. Jay R. spotted the end of another old mattress sticking out of a pile. “Here’s another one; help me pull this out.” Bonedust was closest and helped free the dirty old mattress. “But that has a spring sticking out,” he noted. “So, we’ll put it so that spring is facing down.” The boys continued to rummage through their treasure trove. They collected some of the better looking pieces of wood and posts from broken sections of fence. They weren’t sure what they would be used for, but they looked useful. One example was a long board with nails driven into it at evenly spaced three-foot intervals on which Joe stepped on one end, causing the other end to fly up. The board spun around end over end and almost hit Jackie, who had to jump back out of the way. He fell over backwards into three old tires that had been stacked, leaving his knees inches in front of his face. “Oops,” said Joe. It took Jackie a minute to struggle out of the tires. He wanted to go after Joe, but recalling that Joe was probably still riled up about being in baby clothes, thought better of it. Instead, Jackie answered, “No problem. It’s good to practice being alert. Maybe we can use this for something.” “Like what?” “Uh, for a locker room. To hang our shirts and stuff we don’t need on while we’re boxing.” Mickey came over. “We can use those tires. For training, like you see football players running through them for footwork. And the rubber inner tubes can be stretched out to make ropes for our boxing ring if we can’t get real boxing ring rope. Let’s see if we can find twelve of them, three for each side.” “We could also make a giant slingshot out of these,” declared Jackie. Mickey shook his head. “Those tires are all flat,” commented Johnny. “We’re not gonna use them to drive on,” said Mickey. “Come on and look.” Evidently the junkyard was a favorite dumping ground for worn out car tires as the gang didn’t have much trouble finding enough tires. “I think we got enough for today,” announced Mickey close to three o’clock. “We can carry the light stuff to Jones Barn now, and get the heavier things with Farina’s wagon tomorrow.” “We can roll the tires,” noted Bonedust. “They’re not too flat for that.” “That’s right,” agreed Jay R. “I’ll roll this one.” Jackie, who was carrying some old hot water bottles, some stuffed with dirt, challenged, “You don’t have to roll those tires; you can roll downhill in them.” Mickey put in, “I hope you mean after we get over the top of the hill. Roll that way and there’s no telling how far you’ll go.” Mickey pointed to the west, in the direction of the Pacific Ocean. “Of course that’s what I meant.” The gang got to the top of the hill where Mary had been waiting. “Hi Mary, got any ideas?” asked Mickey. “Nothing original. We could sell lemonade since it’s supposed to be a hot summer. I have to be the cashier in any case.” “Well, we’re off to the barn now.” “So are you going to roll down this hill in those tires? There’s no traffic in this block.” asked Jackie to Bonedust and Jay R. Bonedust and Jay R. looked at each other. “Or are you afraid?” “I’m not afraid!” declared Bonedust. “Me neither!” retorted Jay. Jackie and Johnny held the tires steady while Bonedust and Jay positioned themselves inside. Mary looked worried, but wasn’t able to do anything about the fact that boys will be boys. After making sure the coast was clear, Jackie and Johnny gave the tires good pushes. The rest of the gang immediately ran after Bonedust and Jay. The tires rolled straight for half a block, and then things went awry. Jay’s tire wobbled and leaned to the right, and then veered off the street. After a couple of wild bounces he and the tire landed in a muddy ditch. He staggered out of the tire, but being very dizzy he fell back into the ditch. Bonedust’s tire hit a bump, and he began bouncing down the street and veering to the left. At the corner, he hit the curb, and he and the tire bounced into a tree, lodging in a branch six feet off the ground. Jackie howled in laughter at the results his suggestion had caused. Left to himself, Farina had gotten into a groove. He methodically dug his hole, going around in a six-foot-diameter circle. To his good fortune, the ground remained soft enough to dig, yet the vertical cylindrical wall he was forming was quite stable. It was work, but Farina didn’t mind. He knew he had been worthless in the fight, and this was a good opportunity to develop some muscle and stamina. With great determination he went about his talk, ignoring the remarks of his friends nearby rummaging through the junkyard. Putting the others out of his mind, he kept on tossing shovelfuls of dirt over the edge of the deepening hole. After digging constantly for two hours, he stopped to stretch his back. He noticed that something was different. First, it was quiet, apparently indicating that the gang had all left, having forgotten about him. Second, the sun wasn’t hitting his face when he stood up straight. He blinked, turned around, and discovered why. He was supposed to dig the hole three feet deep. In fact, he had dug it past four feet, a little over his head. But what blocked the sun was the neat ring-shaped pile of newly-excavated dirt surrounding the hole that extended another three feet from the ground. “ I must have done something wrong,” he thought. Farina dug his hands into the dirt at the base of the pile, jumped up and reached higher, but with nothing solid to grab onto and no good footholds, he just slid back to the bottom of the hole. He did this several times at different locations, always with the same result. He uttered a strong oath. “Aw, razzberries!”
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Post by RJH on Jan 14, 2014 0:28:04 GMT -5
Mickey reached the bottom of the hill first. “Are you guys okay?”
“I’m okay,” answered Bonedust from the tree. He wriggled out of the tire, held on to the branch he landed on, and swung down to the ground. He tried to take a step but fell down since he was so dizzy. He saw the world whirl over his head for a minute.
Jay R. started to climb out of the ditch, fell back in, climbed up again, and fell on the ground. His world was also spinning. “I’m … fine, just give me a minute.”
Johnny climbed down to retrieve the tire, and offered to roll it the rest of the way to the Jones barn. Jay got up, took two steps, and fell down again. Waiting another minute, he got up again and was able to walk with the rest of the gang.
Fifteen minutes later they reached the site of the barn. The property was surrounded by a fence six feet high, but the ground was uneven, and they found a gap at the bottom of a board that was large enough for Jackie to crawl through. He then unlatched a gate that required a key to open from the outside. Mary wasn’t sure that she should take Baby Mildred inside.
“That’s fine,” said Mickey. “You can stand guard.”
“You mean I give a signal if somebody comes, like whistle?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“And then what would you do?”
“Um, hide inside until they go away and you give the all clear signal.”
“What would that be?”
“How about two whistles?"
“Okay.”
Mary went around the block pushing Mildred’s stroller. The rest of the gang entered the barnyard, closing the gate behind them.
The barn itself was more solid, with a latch secured by a padlock across the barn door. The gang went around the barn looking for an opening. They went all the way around it without finding anything. Disappointed, Joe leaned back against one of the boards, and suddenly fell backwards. The board, about two feet wide and ten feet tall, swung on a horizontal pivot halfway up, and the top of the board rotated forward and hit Bonedust, facing away from the wall, on the head. The board then rebounded, and as Joe sat up, the bottom of the board hit Joe in the head.
“Great job, Joe, you found the entrance!” remarked Mickey.
The barn was mostly empty, but there were pieces of a destroyed moonshine still in one corner. At the opposite corner were two empty stables set off from the rest of the barn by a wooden partition. The interior was better lit than would be expected thanks to several holes in the roof in addition to some large windows. Extending over the stables and one-third of the barn in total was a loft eight feet off the ground with some hay scattered about. A hose and one bucket each of white and black paint lay against a side wall by a plain wooden table. There were some convenient hooks hanging down from the ceiling formed by the loft.
“This will work great!” announced Mickey. “We can put the boxing ring here, and back there hang the punching bags. Exercise stuff can go over by that side, and that area by the stables will make a perfect locker room.”
“And we can use these pieces of the still,” added Johnny. “The frame there, we can take it apart and use four long pieces for the corners of the ring. We just have to pound them into the ground. I can get a sledgehammer from home tomorrow.”
The boys excitedly discussed plans and agreed to meet outside Farina’s house the next day after breakfast and take the wagon to haul the heavy stuff from the junkyard. They then went back through the gap left by the rotating board, and out the front gate which they left ajar. Perhaps they would put their own secret locking mechanism on it. Once outside, Mary informed them that no one had come by, so the whistle signal was not needed. They all then went home.
Meanwhile, back near the junkyard, Farina felt like an idiot trapped in the deep hole he had dug.
“Hey, is anybody there? Can somebody up there throw me a rope?”
There was no answer. As Farina feared, it was quiet because the gang had all left, having forgotten about him. Farina sighed, and pondered how to extricate himself from his predicament. He concluded that he would have to shovel dirt back into the hole until it was high enough to stand on and climb out. This proved rather awkward, having to hold the shovel over his head and thrust it with only his arms into the dirt pile, and then dragging it back into the hole. This was slow work, and when his arms got tired he tried dragging the dirt he could reach into the hole, piling it up on one side.
After two hours of this, he realized he could make a foothold by jabbing the shovel into the side of the hole and digging a little dirt out. He made two footholds a foot apart, carefully placed one foot in one, then stepped up to the other, and then was able to lunge up far enough to climb out. Heaving a sigh of relief, he looked around and noted that indeed the gang had abandoned him. Maybe that was for the best; at least this way no one saw what he had gotten himself into and how long it took to get out. That would have been really embarrassing.
Farina spotted his smelly clothes where he had left them, near the far edge of the ring of dirt surrounding the hole. He picked them up and flung them disgustedly in the hole. He was then going to shovel the dirt back in the hole, when he realized he had left the shovel at the bottom of the hole. Heaving another sigh, he carefully slid back down into the hole, grabbed the shovel, and hurled it out of the hole. He tried to climb back out, but wasn’t careful at first and it took him three attempts. Finally he was able to finish the task by shoveling the dirt back into the hole and burying his stinking clothes for good. This took another hour, and then he made his way back home.
He had mixed emotions. He was annoyed that he had been left behind, and might have been stuck in the hole all night and stayed trapped until somebody came by the next morning. On the other hand, he was glad that no one had seen how stupid he had been, and it was satisfying to have gotten himself out of his own mess. He decided to keep this experience a secret and pretend nothing unusual had happened. The rest of the day couldn’t be worse, could it?
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Post by RJH on Jan 28, 2014 0:24:42 GMT -5
When Mary got home, her governess was upset that Mary was three minutes late in returning with Mildred. As usual, Mary’s parents were occupied with their own business and society affairs, so while the governess was occupied taking care of Mildred, Mary scoped out the pantry. It was well stocked, and she found several lemons, and bags of ice and sugar. There was still the matter of building the lemonade stand. Confiding in her governess was always a bad idea, so Mary would get the boys in the gang to build the stand.
Mickey returned home for dinner in a good mood, but it was ruined when his mother announced that she had signed him up for violin lessons starting the following afternoon.
“Aw, Ma, why do I have to take violin lessons?”
“You’re going to grow up to be a gentleman and you need a refined skill. Your lessons will be at one o’clock every Tuesday, and you’re going to practice two hours every day.”
“Two hours?” wailed Mickey. Mickey then started thinking about how he might get out of all that practice. Could he rig something that would automatically draw the bow across the strings? Play a recording? Or play so badly that his mother would stop the lessons? Or would she find something else worse for him to do, like dance lessons?
A conversation with his grandmother after dinner made Mickey feel better.
“We found a good place to train. We got some stuff, but we’ll get more tomorrow.”
“That’s wonderful, Mickey dear. Now from what I remember as a little girl, it might be best not to tell me too many details.”
“You mean so Mom won’t find out too much? You’re great, Grandma, you really understand what it’s like to be my age.”
Joe came home in time for dinner in a better mood, but was still anxious to change out of the baby clothes.
“Ma, I didn’t get into any more finds, can I please change clothes now?”
“The day isn’t over yet. So what did you do with the gang this afternoon?”
Joe figured that telling the truth would be a bad idea. Making plans for a boxing gym to get revenge on the Tiger Cubs might keep him in baby clothes for weeks if she found out. Instead, Joe found a half-truth: “We were just trying to find a place to hang out and not be bothered by anybody.”
His mother looked at Joe as if she were not entirely convinced, but let it pass. If he did get into more fights she would find out.
Mango had gotten the new soap by the time Farina got back home, so he was able to take another bath right away. When he was finished, he again put on the small barrel and approached the back door.
“Hey Ma, can I come in now?”
His mother came to the door, and smelled him. “Ugh! You’re better, but you still stink too much to come into the house. You can eat supper out here and sleep in the barn.”
“What? How can I sleep in this barrel?”
“You’ll manage. Arrange the hay to make yourself as comfortable as you can.”
“Can I sleep up in the loft? Dinah doesn’t want to be near me either.”
“Fine, but just be careful.”
As instructed, Farina ate his dinner, served on a plate set out on the back step. He had worked up quite an appetite and had no problem polishing it off. He returned the empty plate on the step, and gazed to look at his sleeping accommodations. The barn was open on one side, and filled with unbundled hay on the left side, while Dinah lay in her stall on the right. Unlike the house, there were no lights in the barn, so it was rather dark in there as the sun had just set. Farina climbed the ladder to the loft ten feet off the ground, and walked to the left, away from Dinah’s side. There was a lot of hay strewn around up there, and Farina figured he would push a lot of it together to from a makeshift bed.
His mother’s words “be careful” rang dimly in his mind. Of course he would be careful not to fall off the edge, though even if he did there was enough hay on that side to break his fall. But was there something else he was supposed to be careful of?
Since the barrel obscured his view of the loft floor, Farina couldn’t see he was stepping into a hole almost eighteen inches square near the back wall. As he fell through the hole, the barrel caught on the edges of the hole, its curvature being barely sufficient to prevent it from fitting through the hole. Consequently Farina fell completely through the barrel as well as the hole, and the next thing he knew he was up to his neck in hay. Panicking, he thrashed, trying to make his way back up through the hole, but the effort only caused him to sink a couple feet, leaving him completely buried and in the dark. The hay was thick enough so that he was suspended four feet from the floor. “Can this day get any worse? " he wondered.
He considered calling for help, but it would be too embarrassing to be found in his current condition. Besides, due to his smell his family might not be willing to offer any yet. He then figured he could swim or crawl through the hay to the barnyard opening. He thrashed some more, but made little progress, and he was exhausted from all the day’s events. Then he realized that in the pitch dark he wasn’t sure which the right direction to go was; he could be crawling toward the wall away from the yard, wasting what little energy he had left. The option of simply curling up where he was and sleeping like that looked more and more like the only realistic possibility. At least no one would be able to see him. When morning came, enough light would filter through the hay so he could see what he was doing. He would have the energy to work his way down and crawl along the floor if he had to, and then climb back up the ladder to retrieve the barrel before anyone else got up. Accepting his fate, Farina yawned, and found one bright spot: he wouldn’t have to figure out how to sleep in that barrel. As he drifted off to a deep sleep, one final thought filled his mind: “This is too crazy. It must be a dream. When I wake up things will be back to normal.”
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Post by RJH on Feb 18, 2014 0:45:41 GMT -5
This story now assumes that the events of “Fast Company” have taken place.
Morning came, and a rooster crowed from an indeterminate direction. Farina was afraid to open his eyes. However, he was hungry, and he couldn’t put off facing the day forever. He slowly opened his eyes – and saw the ceiling of his bedroom. He heaved a great sigh of relief. He hadn’t just been forced to sleep in the nude in a pile of hay in the barn; it was all just a crazy dream. Maybe he had been eating too much meat again. And if his sleeping arrangements had been a dream, how much of the previous day’s events were imagined? The fight, the skunk, wearing only a barrel, being trapped in the hole he had dug? Farina’s stomach growled, so he would have to figure out later how much of that was real.
Farina bounded out of bed, and raced to the kitchen. His mother’s back was turned as she was preparing part of breakfast over the stove, but Mango was already at the kitchen table, and burst out in hysterical laughter the moment she saw her brother enter the room. Their mother turned around, and exclaimed,
“Farina! I thought you had outgrown that!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why don’t you look in a mirror?” Mango managed to ask between bursts of giggles.
Farina walked quickly to the bathroom, and gasped at the sight of himself in the mirror there. He was wearing some of Mango’s clothes: a white blouse, a frilly short skirt, and bunny slippers. Being in Mango’s size, the clothes were much too small for Farina, with the blouse just covering his chest and leaving his entire abdomen exposed, and the skirt not quite covering his entire butt. He realized his mother was referring to those times when Farina was little and he put on girls’ clothes so often, frequently at Ernie’s goading, that he was often assumed to be a girl, but he hadn’t done that in more than a year.
Mortified, Farina bolted into his bedroom, dived onto his bed, and pounded the mattress with his fists. Then he woke up for real, finding himself furiously thrashing in the middle of a huge mass of hay. When he realized what was going on, he stopped, calmed down, and heaved a real sigh of relief that he wasn’t wearing Mango’s clothes. His current situation wasn’t really any better, but had the advantage that no one could see him. He really was hungry, and would have to do something about that.
He blinked, and noticed that it wasn’t pitch dark. There was some light filtering in through the hay, and he turned in that direction. He tried to swim through the hay in that direction, making very slow progress due to his inability to gain any sort of leverage. When he paused to catch his breath, though, an unexpected realization hit him: this was actually kind of fun! This could be a great hiding place for some unforeseen future emergency. With a renewed sense of excitement, he continued to thrash about, gradually sinking down through the hay until he hit the ground, and then was able to thrash and crawl his way out.
Now he had another problem. He couldn’t just walk up to the house in his current state, and someone might see him scrambling up the ladder to get back to the barrel he needed to be decent. Fortunately he remembered that incident from a couple years before when the gang broke into that fancy hotel. They had found a bunch of grass skirts in a room made up like a jungle, the “Coconut Grove,” and the boys had put them on, but Ernie made Farina dress like a girl, making Farina wear a bra-like top made of two large shells strung together so he wouldn’t be bare-chested like all the other boys.
When the hotel staff was chasing the gang out of the hotel, Farina got separated from the rest and was the last to be apprehended. Somehow this resulted in him being the only one whose street clothes were left behind, and he was forced to walk home in the grass skirt and shell-bra top. This would have been more humiliating if the boys hadn’t all gotten sick from smoking a peace pipe in that jungle room and were too miserable to think of anything other than their nausea.
However, when Farina and Ernie came home their parents were livid, mainly at Ernie who was supposed to have taken better care of Farina. The parents called in Dr. Royal Fitzhugh Sorghum, who bore some resemblance to the husband. The doctor declared that the boys needed plenty of fresh air, sunshine and rest to recover. Ernie, nine years old at the time, was feeling better after a day, and then was sent to some boarding school. Farina, being only four at the time, was made much sicker by the smoke and needed much more time to recover, and spent the next week lying in the back yard by day and in bed at night, usually wearing only the grass skirt.
So now Farina knew he was going to make his own skirt from all the hay around him. A problem was that he didn’t have any sewing tools. He looped one piece of straw around his waist and tried to tie it, but it broke. He was more careful with the next piece, and then stuffed several clumps of bent hay into the makeshift waistband, but the waistband broke again. He tried again, and made something somewhat respectable but had to hold the ends of the piece of straw forming the waistband with one hand to keep the whole thing together.
This wasn’t anywhere near as good as the grass skirts from the hotel, but it would be good enough for him to climb the ladder to get to the barrel in case someone saw him. He started climbing the ladder with just his right hand, but after three rungs almost lost his balance. He quickly grabbed the ladder with his left hand, saving himself, but his skirt made of hay fell to pieces and completely off. Mortified, he scrambled up the ladder with great speed, climbed onto the loft, and went to the barrel lodged in the square hole.
Farina tried to pull the barrel out, but much to his chagrin it was stuck. Pulling on the straps instead of the edges of the barrel failed to dislodge it as well. Farina had one more idea: he reached down to grasp the bottom edge of the barrel so that he could better use his legs to pull. The barrel creaked and groaned a little, and then suddenly gave way. However, the sudden movement made Farina lose his balance, and leaning into the barrel as he was, with a yelp he fell completely through the barrel again, but headfirst this time. He wound up suspended upside-down in the thick hay. Once again he sighed, and he needed a couple minutes to catch his breath again before his could resume his struggle to escape.
It was more difficult this time, thanks to his starting position and as his previous efforts had made the hay surrounding the hole he just fell into more compact. It took about ten minutes for Farina to work himself free from the hay pile. Too tired to deal with making another skirt, he kept his back to the house, climbed the ladder, found the now-free barrel and put it on. He climbed carefully down the ladder and strode across the backyard, and knocked on the back door.
Farina’s mother opened the door, and told Farina to hold out his arm. The mother smelled Farina’s hand, and then the air around him, and proclaimed, “Good, you don’t stink like skunk any more. Come in and get dressed. Oh, how did you sleep last night?”
Farina was not going to admit all those things that had happened to him, so he found a way to tell a partial truth. “Fine. I piled up a bunch of hay and was able to sleep all right. But now I’m starving.”
They went into Farina’s room, and some clothes were laid out on his bed. Besides a pair of clean socks and undershorts there was a pair of shoes and a shirt and short pants with several holes and tears that Farina recognized.
“Hey, aren’t these hand-me-downs from Pineapple?”
“That’s right. He wore these when he was your age.”
“You mean you saved these for four years?”
“Yes.”
“But … these are already worn out.”
“They’re still usable, and there’s no point in wasting them. Pineapple never complained when they were handed down from Ernie, and I don’t want to hear complaining from you. You have your Sunday clothes, and you’ll get new clothes for school when that starts up in the fall. But during the summer, I know you’ll run around with that gang and your clothes will take a beating. We have to get you new shoes, and that’s all we can afford for now. So I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Farina answered meekly. He quickly got dressed after his mother left the room, and then joined her and Mango at the breakfast table. Mango giggled when Farina arrived, and Farina didn’t want to ask her why.
Mickey’s enthusiasm at the new day was tempered slightly when his mother reminded him,
“Remember, today’s your first violin lesson, at one o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Mickey felt it best not to play along. “Yes Ma, I won’t forget.”
“And you will look like a gentleman, so whatever you do, be back here in time to change into your good clothes.”
“Yes, Ma.”
Mickey raced out of the house to round up the gang. It was a good sign when Joe answered the door in his regular clothes.
“I didn’t tell my Ma what we’re planning,” explained Joe. “I just have to make it look like I haven’t been fighting, or even practicing.”
“Well, we’ll just be training to start with. Then maybe your Ma will forget about this.”
“No she won’t, but we’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do.”
They got to Jackie’s house next.
“Hey Jackie,” called out Mickey. “Ready to go to Farina’s house and ride the wagon and get our stuff for the gym?”
“Are you sure we can take it? What if Farina still smells like a skunk?”
“Uh … wait, what happened to Farina yesterday? He wasn’t with us at Jones’s barn.”
“I’m pretty sure he was still digging that hole behind the junkyard when we left.”
“Guess we all forgot about him. Maybe we should have made sure he was all right.”
“I’m sure he was fine being left alone under the circumstances.”
“In any case, we better find out fast.”
The group walked quickly to Farina’s house.
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Post by RJH on Mar 30, 2014 22:59:59 GMT -5
Mary ate breakfast quickly in order to get out of her house before Mildred woke up and Mary would have more responsibilities taking care of her baby sister. She went out the back door to avoid her governess, and nearly bumped into the gardener, her only confidant in the household, digging out weeds from a flowerbed.
“Where are you off to?” he asked pleasantly.
“I’m going into business with a lemonade stand.”
“That sounds like a good project. Do you have all the materials and tools you need?”
“Thanks, but the gang will help out. If we need something I’ll let you know.”
Mary skipped away, around the side of the house and up the street toward where the rest of the gang lived.
Mickey, Joe, and Jackie got to Farina’s house just as he was finishing breakfast. Mickey knocked on the door and Farina answered. Farina was determined not to let on that anything embarrassing had happened to him the day before.
“Good morning, guys.”
“Hey Farina,” replied Mickey. “Sorry we left you alone yesterday. Everything work out okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“I dunno … something might have happened.”
“Look, I dug that hole and buried my stinky clothes. I took another bath and now that skunk smell is all gone. And I wanted to be alone because I struck oil and now I get to keep it all to myself.”
That got a little laugh out of Joe and Jackie, who clearly didn’t believe that last part. Neither did Mickey, who came back with, “Good to see your sense of humor is back. Anyway, we found the Jones barn is perfect for our gym. Can we take the wagon now, pick up the rest of the gang, and bring the stuff we need from the junkyard to the barn now?”
“Sure. Let’s hurry before Mango wants to tag along.”
They went into the back yard and after several failures, managed to hitch the wagon to Dinah the Mule. The wagon had a seat built into the back of the cargo space, which was about twelve feet long and five feet wide. Farina and Mickey climbed into the front seat. They both grabbed for the reins.
“Hey! Dinah is our mule, so I’m driving!” declared Farina.
“I thought that it might be better if …”
“No!”
Mickey relented, reasoning that he could grab the reins from where he sat if something went wrong. Joe and Jackie hopped into the back.
Farina pulled on the reins and commanded Dinah to start. Having had lots of experience riding beside Ernie and Pineapple, Farina knew what to expect. Mickey, on the other hand, didn’t. As Dinah pulled the wagon, the first half-turn of the extremely wobble wheels caused the vehicle to lurch hard to the left. Mickey reflexively leaned hard to his right to keep his balance. However, on the next half turn, the wagon lurched back to the right, and Mickey was too off-balance to keep from falling out. Joe, being heavier, was not rocked so much in the back seat, while Jackie bounced into Joe and fell onto the floor of the wagon.
“The wheels are all messed up!” Mickey spluttered as he picked himself off the ground.
“No they ain’t – they’re supposed to be like that,” answered Farina.
“Why would anyone put them on so crooked?”
“Because my folks don’t want me to drive fast till I’m bigger.”
“Wait a minute,” pointed out Joe as he got up from the floor. “This wagon was wobbly, but not this bad when Ernie and Pineapple drove it.”
“That’s because they were bigger then. In a few years my Pa will fix it so it doesn’t wobble so much. But till then, you gotta hang on tight and roll with the flow.”
“It’s like an amusement park ride,” noted Jackie.
“Those have safety bars, and this doesn’t,” objected Mickey. Then he thought that if Mary was riding with him, she’d have to hang on tightly to him. “But okay, we can fix this later.”
“But if we do, we gotta set it back to this before my Pa sees it. Otherwise I’ll get in trouble and have to go back to pulling that stupid little baby wagon to deliver laundry.”
Back in place, the boys started down the street to pick up the rest of the gang. It was an engineering marvel that the wobbly wagon didn’t fall apart. Soon they came across Johnny, Jay R., and Bonedust walking in a group.
“Mornin; guys, hop on!” invited Jackie.
Bonedust hesitated at the sight of the extremely wobbly wagon. “Is that thing safe?”
“Would we be riding on it if it wasn’t?” responded Jackie.
“You would.”
“So what’s the big deal? Haven’t you been in a wagon where a wheel fell off?”
“Aren’t you the one who has a history of loosening bolts on wheels?” noted Johnny.
“Actually,” observed Mickey, “the wheels falling off would be a good thing. Then we could put them on right.” “Nobody loosened the bolts on this!” shouted Farina. “The wheels are like that to keep me from driving fast until I’m bigger. Now get in or walk!”
“Is there enough room for all of us in that thing?” asked Jay.
“There is if you sit on the floor,” answered Joe. “Also you won’t be so likely to fall out.”
Bonedust, Johnny, and Jay piled into the wagon and sat on the floor. “I don’t think all the stuff we need and us will fit on this at the same time,” persisted Jay.
“We can burn that bridge when we get to it,” concluded Mickey. The freckle-faced one then spotted Mary two blocks away. An idea formed in his head. “Hey Farina, keep going and pick up Mary. You can drive.”
Since Mickey was no longer trying to take away Farina’s driving privileges, Farina didn’t object to the order. The wagon made its way down the street, and a block later Mickey jumped out. He addressed Joe and Jackie in the back seat.
“We can’t let the lady sit on the floor. So could you please get up? One of you can sit in front.”
Jackie reacted more quickly, and being nimbler than Joe, bounced among their friends on the wagon floor and climbed over the back of the front seat to take his place next to Farina. Joe got up but tripped and fell amongst the others.
Farina glared at Jackie. “You ain’t driving, you know.”
“I know. I just wanted to be up front.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re the two lightest. If we sit together, the wagon will be off-balance as much as possible.”
“So you want the wagon to wobble more?”
“Yes, I think it’s fun!”
Farina’s glare turned into a grin. It had been quite a while since he smiled.
Mickey gallantly bade Mary good morning.
Mary hadn’t noticed how wobbly the wagon was, but did take a good luck when it had stopped. “Good morning, Mickey. How’s everything? It’s good to see Farina and Joe are back to wearing normal clothes.”
“Uh, yes.” Of course it was like Mary to be concerned about all the gang members. “Everything’s fine. Now let’s have a seat in my limo.”
Mary laughed as Mickey gallantly led her to the back seat and sat beside her. “Let’s go!” Mickey gripped a side rail firmly with his right hand and strategically placed his left arm across the top of the back of the seat.
The wagon lurched forward, and then made a U-turn. As Mickey expected, the wagon wobbled hard to one side and then the other. First Mary was thrown into him, and then he deftly placed his left arm around her to keep her from falling out to the left as she grabbed for him with her right arm.
“Oh!” exclaimed Mary. “This wagon …”
“I know, Farina’s folks don’t want him driving too fast, so the wheels will be like this till he’s older. He thinks he could be a chauffeur when he grows up, and he’s had such a hard time lately, so let’s not say anything to hurt his feelings.”
“Oh, of course not.” Mary would never hurt anyone’s feelings if she didn’t have to, and the rocking ride wasn’t too awful. There was a significant amount of snickering from the boys on the floor, but Mary did her best to imagine she was riding in a chauffeur-driven limousine as the wagon made it up and over the hill to the junkyard.
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Post by RJH on Apr 21, 2014 23:47:25 GMT -5
The gang arrived at the junkyard all in one piece. They piled out, some of them a little woozy from the wobbly ride. With Mary standing at the edge of the piles of junk, the boys excitedly hauled stuff into the wagon. They put the largest objects in first, which were five old mattresses that would serve as the floor of their boxing ring. Then they rolled out more than a dozen tires, planning to take out their rubber inner tubes to use as ropes for the ring and use the outer tires for footwork drills. They retrieved the old duffel bag they spotted the day before, envisioning it as a heavy punching bag, and found a couple more hot water bottles that might be formed into a speed bag. They also recovered the long board with several evenly spaced nails pounded into it, intended to be used to hang shirts in the locker room area while bare-chested hunks of masculinity were sparring and working out. Next were four rusted metal fence posts for the corners of the ring in case they weren’t able to use pieces from the still they found in Jones’s Barn. Mary had to remind them to find some wood for the lemonade stand, and several odd-sized pieces were collected. The wagon filled up rather quickly.
“Hey,” Johnny noted. “We’re not all going to fit in the wagon with all our stuff in it.”
“Yeah,” agreed Mickey. “We’ll need some volunteers to walk alongside when we go to Jones’s Barn.”
“I volunteer!” piped up Bonedust immediately.
“Me too!” echoed Jay R.”
“Me three!” added Joe.
“I don’t mind walking,” commented Johnny.
“Well, somebody has to ride and keep our stuff from falling out,” replied Mickey.
“I wanna ride!” exclaimed Jackie.
“We need someone on each side,” declared Johnny. “Looks like you volunteered, Mickey. I’ll make sure Mary doesn’t get hit by any falling objects.”
Mickey started to protest, but Mary cut him off with a smile: “That’s so gallant of you to volunteer, Mickey.” Mickey could only climb into the left side of the wagon bed while Jackie scampered into the right side.
For his part, Farina was glad no one was questioning that he was going to drive. The way everyone except Jackie wanted to avoid riding didn’t thrill Farina, but based on the ride up that reaction was understandable. In any event, Farina would demonstrate his skill and prove he was deserving of a driver’s license.
Farina yanked on the reins, and Dinah slowly went into motion, dragging the heavy wagon up over the top of the hill and then down Goat Alley toward Farina’s house and then several of the other boys’ houses beyond. But before the wagon made it fifty feet downhill two of the tires from the gang’s collection teetered on the left edge. Mickey saved one of them from falling over the edge, but couldn’t save the other. It bounced and rolled on the pavement, and Jay caught it after a few seconds. Moments later one of the fence posts fell out the right side of the wagon when Jackie was preoccupied holding another tire in place. Bonedust picked that up and walked quickly alongside the wagon, keeping a safe distance to avoid getting hit by other falling objects. By the time the wagon reached the end of the block at the bottom of the hill, the sides of the street was littered with junk that was getting scooped up by the gang. They regrouped at the bottom of the hill.
“We have got to get the wheels fixed on this for next time!” declared Mickey.
It was hard to argue. “Like I told you, if we fix the wheels, we have to unfix them before I bring the wagon back to my house,” responded Farina.
“Fine. We’re going to need to make more trips, and this is ridiculous. Now the Jones Barn is three blocks this way and then two blocks that way.”
“I know where it is.”
The gang placed some of the stuff back in the wagon, and carried the rest to the site of Jones’s Barn. When no outsiders were looking, Johnny opened the outer gate that had been left ajar the day before so that Dinah could be coaxed through and the heavy items brought up to the barn. Mickey explained,
“After this we leave this gate locked and crawl through the hole in fence to get in and out. We only use the main gate if we have to bring something big or heavy inside.”
Farina saw the padlock on the latch on the barn door. “How do we get inside?”
“Come on down, and push hard on the boards,” answered Jackie. “Like this. One of these works.”
Jackie and Farina jumped down from the wagon, and Jackie pushed on couple boards he knew weren’t the right ones while the bigger boys unloaded the wagon. He suggested Farina push in the right area, and a few moments later he found the right one. Having been instructed to push hard, he had pushed too hard, and fell forward, landing on his hands and knees. The board swung around on its pivot and hit Farina in the butt, knocking him forward onto his stomach.
“Great job, you found it!” congratulated Jackie innocently.
Farina wasn’t convinced Jackie was innocent, but his annoyance was tempered by his excitement over seeing the site of the gang’s new gym. The two of them held the board horizontally while the others lugged the treasure trove inside the barn. The pieces of wood that were to make up the lemonade stand were left in the wagon outside. They would have to figure out a location for that, and belatedly realized they would need a hammer and nails. They arranged the mattresses as they had discussed, with three side-by-side and two end-to-end perpendicular to the first three to form a pretty good square twelve feet on a side. The duffel bag was hung on one of the hook and partially filled with dirt; more would be needed for a good heavy punching bag. Two small speed bags had been constructed by stuffing some hot water bottles with dirt and hooking them together. The gang laid a dozen tires on the ground in a zigzag pattern after pulling out the rubber inner tubes. They worked setting up the place until noon, and agreed to break for lunch.
They went their separate ways for lunch, with Mickey reminding them he had to take his violin lesson. Only Jackie accepted Farina’s offer of a ride home, and with little equipment on board the wagon there were no more incidents. Farina dropped Jackie off at his house, and then went back to his own, directing Dinah back to their barn and unharnessing her, the mule’s work done for the day.
Mickey endured what seemed like the longest hour ever with the violin lesson. He knew he would never be a real violinist, and couldn’t concentrate because he kept thinking about the gym and improving himself as an athlete. He had thoughts of ruining his violin somehow, but it couldn’t be too obvious. Maybe he could accidentally mistake a saw for a bow and cut all the strings. He was greatly relieved when he saw the clock strike two, marking the end of the lesson.
Mary thought she’d surprise Mickey by being at the violin teacher’s house when the lesson finished. At the door, the violin teacher was giving Mickey instructions on what to practice during the upcoming week, when Mary gasped. The teacher didn’t notice, but Mickey did, and he raced to Mary as soon as the door was closed.
“What’s wrong, Mary?” he asked.
Mary stammered. “Your violin teacher … he looks exactly like my gardener!”
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Post by mtw12055 on May 10, 2014 12:27:42 GMT -5
In any event, Farina would demonstrate his skill and prove he was deserving of a driver’s license. [/a] But seriously, nice story. I especially like your ideas for Jackie. He was pushed into the background far too often in the films.
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Post by RJH on May 12, 2014 22:26:09 GMT -5
This story now assumes that the events of “The Cobbler” have not taken place.
“Take it easy,” Mickey tried to reassure Mary. “There’s a theory that everybody has a double.”
“But … but … I’d be sure that man was my gardener if I hadn’t just left him at my house,” stammered Mary shakily.
“Let’s just forget about it. Concentrate on building the lemonade stand. Let’s see if we got all the stuff we need.”
Mickey and Mary walked to the barn, where some of the gang had already arrived. Farina’s parents had business in town, so he was stuck accompanying Mango the rest of the afternoon. As the others drifted in, Mickey announced that some of the gang would have to build the lemonade stand while the rest would work on finishing setting up the gym. All the other boys preferred to work on the gym. The work was considered too dangerous for Mango, so Farina grudgingly agreed to join Mickey and Mary and watch after Mango. They decided to set up the stand in a vacant lot adjacent to the Jones property. The foursome carried the many pieces of wood collected the day before, and carried them to the site, when they realized they were missing something.
“Did anyone bring a hammer and nails?” asked Mickey.
The other three shook their heads.
“Didn’t your barrel say ‘nails,’ Farina?”
“That was empty before I put it on,” Farina sighed.
“We must have gotten some yesterday,” continued Mickey. “I’ll go back to the barn. You stay here and guard our stuff.”
When Mickey left, Mary felt she should inquire about Farina’s well-being.
“So Farina, you look a lot better today than yesterday. Are you felling all right now?”
Mango couldn’t wait to interject, “Farina still smelled so bad he had to sleep in the barn last night.”
Farina growled at Mango as Mary stifled a giggle. “I’m fine now,” he declared.
Being so good-natured, Mary tried to make the best of the situation. “That sounds … awkward, but I think you’re tough enough to handle that all right.”
Farina was a sucker for flattery. He didn’t hear it very often, and certainly not from Mango, and was not about to miss a chance to verify his toughness. “Sure it wasn’t the most comfortable, but I put a lot of hard work into digging that hole, so I was able to sleep all right. Just made a little bed in the hay, and that was all I needed.”
This time Mango giggled, and Farina threw her another glare, and wondered how much she had seen.
Back at the barn, the boys were busy getting the gym in shape. Johnny remembered to bring the sledgehammer from home and was pounding in the metal posts for the corners of the boxing ring. When all four were in, Jay and Bonedust stretched some inner tubes from the tires between the posts. Jackie then ran back and forth into the rubber strands, bouncing from side to side and around the ring, making a game out of it. However, it was then decided that the best way to test the construction was to have Joe run into it. On his first attempt, Joe ran from one side of the ring into the stretched-out rubber tubes. They held, but the bounce caused Joe to flail backwards back across the ring. Jackie had to jump out the way just before Joe crashed into the side, and this time one of the tubes did snap.. It had been badly worn, but that hadn’t been noticed by the gang.
When Mickey arrived, he asked, “Got a hammer and any extra nails here … hey, what happened?”
“One of our rubber boxing ring ropes couldn’t hold up to Joe,” announced Jackie.
“Then we need to get more of those tires or some real rope.”
“We looked, and there weren’t any long enough pieces of rope at the junkyard,” noted Jay.
“Yeah, there were a few pieces of short rope we’re using to hang our punching bags,” added Bonedust.
“Well, there were lots of old tires there. Some of them must have inner tubes that won’t break. We can get the wagon and make another trip tomorrow morning. But for now, we need a hammer and nails for the lemonade stand. Do we have any?’
“We got a regular hammer besides my Pa’s sledgehammer, but I didn’t see any nails here,” answered Johnny. “But I know who will have plenty. There’s a new cobbler in town. He’s very friendly, name of … Tuttle. It’s four or five blocks away; you should go meet him.”
“Thanks, I think we will.” Johnny gave Mickey the directions, and he returned to Mary, Farina, and Mango with the hammer.
“They had a hammer but they didn’t have any nails. Johnny said there’s a new cobbler in town who’s got to have nails, so let’s go see him. Farina, you can stay here and guard the wood.”
“I wanna come with and see the new cobbler. Nobody’s gonna steal this pile of old wood.”
“You guys did yesterday,” Mary pointed out.
“That wasn’t stealing, that was thrown out so nobody wanted that. And nobody will want it now.”
“Come on, we’re wasting time,” declared Mickey. “We’ll all go, it shouldn’t take that long.”
Mango didn’t get a vote, but hanging around with Farina just to watch over a pile of wood was not her choice, so she happily accompanied the rest. In a few blocks they found the cobbler’s shop. Mr. Tuttle was busy concentrating fixing a shoe, and didn’t look up right away when the foursome entered. The older half of that group both gasped when they saw the cobbler for the first time.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked a puzzled Farina.
“He … he looks just like my violin teacher!” stammered Mickey.
“And my gardener!” added Mary.
Mr. Tuttle looked up, and greeted the kids with a smile. “Hello, there, I’m Mr. Tuttle. What can I do for you?”
It took Mickey a few seconds to recover. “Um, I’m Mickey, and this is Mary, and Farina and Mango. We’re building a lemonade stand, and we need some nails. A friend said you would have some.”
Tuttle smiled again. “It’s great to see young entrepreneurs. Yes, I have lots of nails. But I’d like to give you a piece of business advice. Don’t give away your product unless you expect something in return."
“You mean you want us to buy your nails?” asked Mickey. “If we had any money, we wouldn’t need to build the lemonade stand to raise some.”
“I know!” exclaimed Mary. “We can give you a glass of lemonade every day for a week after we build the stand.”
Tuttle let out a little chuckle. “That sounds like a fair deal. How many nails do you need?”
“I don’t know, twenty?” responded Mickey.
“Here you go.” Tuttle handed Mickey a small box of nails. “By the way, do you have all the tools you need? Hammer, saw, …”
“Oh, we have a hammer, but forgot a saw. Maybe some of our pieces of wood aren’t the right length. I’m sure someone will have a saw at home.”
“No need for that, you can borrow one of mine, if you promise to bring it back in good shape by the end of the day.”
“Is it okay if I use it to saw Mango in half?” asked Farina. “I need practice to be a magician.” A reaction Farina had to being teased by the gang was to tease Mango.
“Hey!” spluttered Mango.
Mary stated “That won’t happen. And we should make it a glass of lemonade for two weeks.”
“All right then. Please bring this saw back by five o’clock, and let me know how it went.”
The group said good-bye, and went back to the pile of boards, which had been left undisturbed. They set to work on building the stand. It was far from professional, but would stand on its own if no one leaned too hard on it.
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Post by RJH on May 29, 2014 22:16:01 GMT -5
This story now assumes that the events of “July Days” have not taken place.
Mickey, Mary, Farina, and Mango returned the saw to Mr. Tuttle, thanked him, and went back to the Jones barn to check up on things.
“So how is everything going?” asked Mickey.
“Pretty good,” answered Johnny, “but we need more stuff. “We need another mattress. The springs keep sticking out of one.”
“Can’t you turn it so the springs face the ground like we said?”
“No, because the springs stick on out both sides. We should bring it back to the junkyard.”
Well, we’ll need the wagon for that.”
“Also we found out that more of those tire tubes aren’t strong enough, and we decided we need another heavy punching bag in case two want to use one at the same time. That long board with the nails in it worked perfectly for our locker room, and that’s up now.”
“Good. I see those tires are in place.”
A dozen tires had been laid on the floor in two straight rows, but staggered so as to form a zigzag pattern. Mickey couldn’t resist trying them out, and easily stepped through them all.
“That’s too easy. That isn’t going to do anybody any good.”
“How about we put a second row on top of those now?” asked Bonedust.
“Or more if that isn’t enough,” added Jackie.
“We’ll need a lot more tires for that then,” said Mickey, but let’s see what we can get. Hey Farina, can we use your wagon tomorrow?”
“In the morning. My Pa will need it in the afternoon.”
“And can we fix those wheels so that everything doesn’t fall out?”
“No! It has to be back to normal when my Pa sees it.”
“You have a funny definition of ‘normal,’ commented Joe.
“I got an idea,” piped in Jay. “There’s a blacksmith in town who’s good at building and fixing all kinds of things. Why don’t we see what he can do?”
“How about it, Farina? If he can fix your wagon and then unfix it for you, will that be okay?” “I guess so. But Mango will probably rat us out.”
“No I won’t!” exclaimed the little sister. “As long as you don’t do anything mean to me.”
Farina didn’t have a good feeling about that. Still, he wanted to show the gang he was a big kid, and deep down inside he wanted to see if he could drive the wagon more quickly. If he got caught and punished, well, it couldn’t be much worse than his experiences the past couple days, and he had come out reasonably well after all of it.
“Then it’s arranged,” stated Mickey. “We’ll meet at this blacksmith’s tomorrow morning, say nine-thirty, give him a chance to open? Oh, and where is it?”
“Closer to the main part of town, five blocks down that way and then two blocks left,” answered Jay.
The gang broke apart for the evening, excited about the way things were developing.
The next morning, Farina hitched Dinah to the wagon and was about to set out when Mango showed up.
“I want to come with you.”
“I don’t.”
“If you don’t, I’ll tell Ma and Pa what you’re going to do to the wagon.”
“That didn’t take long,” Farina thought. “Already being blackmailed.” Deciding it was best not to mess things up right away, Farina relented. “All right, but if you fall off I’m not responsible.”
“I won’t fall off, I know to hang on tight. Especially with you driving.”
Mango climbed into the bed of the wagon, which was easier to reach. Farina pulled on the reins and got Dinah to start moving. They pulled out of the barnyard and turned left onto Goat Alley. About half a block down, neighbors Jackie and Joe were waiting in the street. Farina pulled over.
“You guys wanna ride?”
“Jackie said I should give you another chance,” answered Joe.
“At least if it’s free,” added Jackie.
It hadn’t occurred to Farina to charge anything. He wondered if he could run a taxi service. Of course most people would want a smooth ride, and while that could happen, his folks would find out pretty soon, even if it wasn’t from Mango. Farina pushed the thought aside as Joe and Jackie climbed on, this time with Joe in front next to Farina and Jackie in the back seat next to Mango. With Joe toward the center, the wagon didn’t wobble quite as much as it proceeded down Goat Alley. No more gang members were in sight, so Farina made a right turn onto the next street to drive the several blocks to the blacksmith’s. They did hit one rut which caused quite a bump in the back. While Jackie and Mango were holding on tight to the sides with one hand, this had the effect of causing them to grab each other with their free hands. After a confused moment of them staring at each other, they slowly let go and resumed their seated positions as if nothing had happened.
After counting eight blocks, Farina turned left onto the correct street. A couple blocks ahead the rest of the gang had already assembled in front of the blacksmith’s shop. Bringing the very well-trained mule to a stop, Farina and his passengers climbed out.
“Morning, guys,” greeted Jay. “Let’s go in, he’s very friendly.”
The gang filed in after Jay. “Hi, Mr. Anderson, this is the gang. Do you know Johnny? And this is Bonedust, and …”
Jay was interrupted by a simultaneous gasp from Mickey, Mary, Farina, and Mango.
Mr. Anderson was surprised and concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“You-you look j-just like my gardener,” stammered Mary. “and … and …” “My violin teacher,” added Mickey. “and …”
“And the cobbler, Mr. … er …” added Farina.
“Turtle!” finished Mango.
“It wasn’t ‘Turtle,’ it was ‘Tuttle,’ corrected Farina.
Mr. Anderson laughed. “Probably the smoke in here is playing tricks on your eyes. Now who are the rest of you?”
Jay had been bewildered at that last four’s reaction. “Um, that’s Mickey, Mary, Farina, and Mango. And this is Joe and Jackie.”
“Pleased to meet you all. Now what can I do for you?”
Mickey regained his composure. “We want to know if you can fix the wagon outside so it doesn’t wobble.”
“And unfix it,” declared Farina.
“Well, let’s take a look,” said Anderson. They all went outside, and it didn’t take long to make a diagnosis. “There are two things. These bolts are on way too loose. You have to do is tighten them. And second, these axles aren’t in one piece. This is a strange construction. This front axle consists of two rods that are bolted together near their ends, and they extend another couple feet, where ropes are tied around their ends. It looks like it was made for steering.”
“Yeah,” agreed Farina. “You pull on this rope and the front wheel goes left, and it pulls on Dinah’s left side at the same time.”
“You can’t possibly get very much control with that though; that won’t move that side of the axle much at all.”
“We never needed it to move much.”
“Can you fix it so it’s a smooth ride?” asked Mickey.
“Well, the fastest way would be to clamp the two pieces of each axle together. Two clamps on each axle would do it. They should go on the ends for greatest stability,” answered Anderson.
“Can we borrow some clamps then?”
Anderson hesitated. “For how long?”
“A couple days, and then maybe once in a while, or until we find the right tools at home.”
“We’ll give you a glass of lemonade for a week,” piped up Mary. “We’ve been using the wagon to get materials for a lemonade stand and for a gym.”
Anderson chuckled. “Good to see young people in business. AT that rate, I’ll throw in a wrench that will fit the bolts on that vehicle. Now be careful – it will be easier to take the weight off the wheel or axle you’re working on. Whatever you’re working on should be off the ground, say like over a small rut or depression. Good thing there’s enough of you here to support this. Let’s try it.”
The gang and Mr. Anderson coaxed Dinah a little bit forward and backward to make it as easy as possible to adjust the wheels and axles. Anderson added a little oil between the wheels and connecting axle ends, and the result worked like a charm. Dinah was able to pull the gang twice as fast as before, even if that only meant going from five to ten miles per hour. Mickey sat up front, ready to grab the reins from Farina at any moment, but it proved unnecessary.
The gang stopped by Mary’s house so she could get lemons, glasses, a ladle, water, and a bag of ice for the lemonade stand. They then went to Jones’ barn to get the black paint they had found there so they could paint “Fresh Lemonade: 2 cents a glass” on the stand. Farina saw his chance:
“Hey Mango, we’re going to get some more stuff from the junkyard. Why don’t you help Mary sell the lemonade?”
Mango looked at Mary, who nodded. “Okay.” Selling lemonade had to be better than visiting the smelly junkyard. Thus the girls were dropped off at the stand while Johnny, Jay, and Bonedust retrieved the mattress that had springs sticking out from both sides. The wagon returned to the barn, and the boys loaded that mattress onto it. Next they went up to the junkyard, and traded in that mattress for one that didn’t have springs sticking out. They loaded the wagon up with all the tires they could find, and took more old bags that might be used as punching bags. There were some short lengths of rope, but nothing long enough for the side of the boxing ring, so they would still use the tire inner tubes for those. They also took a bicycle frame, with working pedals but no wheels, anticipating using it as some kind of exercise device.
They returned with their haul, and got everything into the barn. Farina and Mickey then drove to the girls, who had done very well selling the lemonade. At that rate in another day or two they would have enough to buy a pair of boxing gloves. Farina and Mickey then delivered glasses of lemonade to Mr. Tuttle and Mr. Anderson as promised, and drove back. The gang then helped reset the wagon so that it would wobble once again. Farina got set to drive it back home, when Jackie volunteered to keep him company.
“You disappointed we fixed this wagon?” asked Farina.
“Kind of, but I understand,” replied Jackie. “As long as I get to ride it like this it’s fine.”
They drove to Farina’s yard, left Dinah in that barn, and walked back to Jones’s barn where the gang was busy making improvements to their gym.
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