“Run, Tiny!!” yelled Gabriel. “Run!”
Mrs. Wilson had stepped aside to give the boy a clear path and planted herself in front of Mancetti just as he tried to make a swipe at Tiny. She and Mancetti then moved left and right, trying to get out of each other’s way, which allowed Tiny a few extra seconds for his escape.
“Run!” cried Gabriel.
“Catch that thief!” Mancetti hollered to the policemen.
“He no thief, I say!” cried Mrs. Mancetti. She took the broom away from her husband and threw it on the ground, and started in Italian again, leaving the policemen unsure of what to do.
One of the policemen bent over and spoke to Gabriel. “Now, who’s this Tiny lad? Did he throw the rock?”
“No! He’s my friend. He was with me. He didn’t throw anything.”
Tommy ran up. “Gabriel!!” he cried, putting an arm around his shoulder, and turning to the policemen. “This is my brother –”
The older policeman ignored Tommy, and spoke to Gabriel. “Do you know where this Tiny fella lives?”
Gabriel nodded. “His brother just died there. So Tiny’s going to the warm place.”
“You’re saying there’s a body there?!” asked the younger policeman.
“I guess so – I don’t know,” Gabriel started to explain, but the older policemen leaned down close to Gabriel.
“The lad was just here. Now how could he already be going to a warm place? Are you sure you’re not pulling our leg?”
“Yes,” said Gabriel. “I mean, no. I mean – ”
“Let’s go and talk to the lad’s parents,” said the policeman.
“They don’t have any parents,” said Gabriel.
The older policeman sighed, pushed his hat back, and nudged the other. “We better look into this.”
“What about my window?” asked Mancetti.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” said Mrs. Wilson, rolling her head in disbelief.
“We’re trying to get to the bottom of this,” said the older policeman. “We’ll go find the scamp and sort this all out.”
The policeman put his hands on his knees and leaned down again to Gabriel. “Now, can you show us where he lives?”
Tommy appeared horrified at the idea of the police taking Gabriel away. He put both arms around him securely. “You can’t take him away. My mom won’t like that.”
“We’ll be right back. Come on, son. Step into the car.”
Tommy looked on in fear as the policeman drove off with Gabriel. He was about to run home, but Mancetti grabbed him by his collar.
“Oh, no you don’t! Now. From the beginning,” said Mancetti. “I want to know who threw that rock, and why you were with those boys.”
Tommy began to tell him exactly what had happened, with details added by some of the bystanders, and a fierce defense by Mrs. Wilson.
Still unsatisfied, Mancetti asked Mickey to tell his version. After several minutes of questioning the boys, Mancetti was finally convinced that Tommy had nothing to do with the broken window. He relented and placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “All right then. You’d better go and get your mother.”
*
Lillian had her door cracked open, waiting for Tommy and Gabriel. She heard the vestibule door open and quick footsteps coming up the stairs. She opened her door, glad that they were back so soon. She was surprised to see Charles running up the last flight of stairs. He was a good two hours earlier than she had expected.
“Charles! You’re home early?”
He threw his arms around Lillian. “I couldn’t wait. I had to see you.”
Lillian stepped back to look at him, wondering at the change in him. “Come in. I want to talk to you, too.” She closed the door behind him.
He was impatient and grabbed both of her hands. “Lillian. I don’t want to postpone the wedding. I never did. It’s just that –”
“It was my sister, wasn’t it? I had a letter from her. Really, Charles, you should have discussed it with me!”
“I know, I know. I just – started to imagine all sorts of things. That I could come home injured, or not at all.”
Lillian put a hand on her hip. “And what if I get sick or injured while you’re away? Does that mean you’ll change your mind about me?”
He laughed and embraced her. “Of course not! Nothing would ever make me change my mind about you. I want to be married to you more than anything else in the world. I don’t want to wait.”
Lillian’s face flooded with hopefulness. “You mean – we can get married in May?”
“We can get married tomorrow if you want!”
Lillian threw her arms around him, overjoyed at the thought of marrying him soon, and that nothing had changed between them.
“Mom!!” came Tommy’s urgent cry.
Lillian and Charles broke apart, and stared at each other as they listened. They heard the vestibule door close and someone running up the stairs.
“Mom!”
Just as Lillian opened the door again, Tommy burst through, blood under his nose and on his shirt. “Mom! The police!”
“Tommy!” she said, alarmed. “Are you all right?”
She saw the blood under his nose and ran to get a wet washcloth.
Tommy leaned over, trying to catch his breath. “Not me,” he panted. “The police – ”
She started to place the washcloth to his nose, but he pushed her arm away. “The police have Gabriel!”
“What?!” Lillian started back in horror. “Is he hurt? What happened?! Where is he?”
“He’s – he’s fine.” Tommy leaned against the wall, still panting. “Gabriel was telling the truth, Mom. There really is a Tiny!”
Lillian’s mouth dropped open. “What?!”
Charles placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Tell us what happened, Tommy.”
“We were playing marbles and then Butch came and said they found some spies and we followed them to Mancetti’s, and then Spider threw a rock and broke the window and Mr. Mancetti thought Tiny did it, so Tiny ran away, and Gabriel is taking the police to Tiny’s home to see if there’s a body there because his brother just died and they need Gabriel to show them where he lives!”
Lillian didn’t need to hear anything else. She rushed down the stairs, out the building, and ran all the way to Mancetti’s, followed by Charles and Tommy.
“Gabriel? Where’s Gabriel?” Lillian scanned the crowd that was still gathered outside the broken window. She ran to Mrs. Mancetti. “Where’s Gabriel?”
“Police take him. He say Tiny’s brother dead.” She made the sign of the cross. “Gabriel show them where he live.” She looked at her husband, and huffed. “Tiny good boy!”
Lillian saw Mancetti in the middle of the crowd and pushed her way through to him. “Mr. Mancetti?”
He knew he had been wrong, so his only response was, “Who’s going to pay for my window?!”
Lillian faltered, and Charles pulled her onto the bench. He took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. She had run out without a coat and was now shivering.
Mrs. Wilson sat down next to her and began her account of what happened, but Mancetti cut in and wanted to start at the beginning with the graffiti, and how business was slowing down because of the young hoodlums causing trouble, throwing tomatoes, and now rocks.
Just then, the police car pulled up. When Gabriel climbed out with one of the policemen, Lillian ran over and held him tightly.
“Are you all right, Gabriel?” She took him to the bench and pulled him onto her lap and kissed his head. “My darling boy. What – what happened?” She looked to the policemen, then to Gabriel for an explanation, then over at Tommy.
They all began to explain as best they could: the two policemen, Mr. and Mrs. Mancetti, Tommy, Mrs. Wilson, Gabriel, Mickey, and some of the onlookers, adding details, picking up different threads of the story, and talking over each other. Lillian and Charles turned from one person to another, trying to piece everything tog
ether, but were unable to make sense of the string of words: gang of boys, Mata Hari, broken window, warm beaches, Platoon A, Spider, braunschweiger, Father Dwyer, police, Marcel, Tiny…
Lillian took Gabriel’s face in her hands. “Gabriel! Why didn’t you tell me that Tiny was a real boy?”
“I did tell you, Mommy.”
Lillian looked to Charles, then back to Gabriel, wondering exactly why she hadn’t believed him.
The policemen examined the window while Mancetti swept up the glass. Mrs. Mancetti went back inside to tend to the shoppers lined up to make their purchases, now that the drama was over.
Lillian and Charles walked home with the boys, Lillian’s mind scattering in a hundred directions. Tommy and Gabriel walked ahead of them.
Tommy draped his arm around Gabriel. “Sorry I didn’t believe you, Gabe.”
“I got to sit in the front seat, Tommy. Did you see that?”
“I sure did.”
“And they showed me how the police radio works.”
When they reached their apartment, Lillian took off Gabriel’s coat and kissed his head. She then sat with him on the couch, holding him tightly. Tommy sat on her other side and she wrapped her arms around both of them.
After a moment, Tommy ran to his bedroom, and came back holding something behind his back.
“I was saving it for you for Christmas. How about we read it tonight?” He held up a Classic Comics version of The Count of Monte Cristo. “Better than the book. This is shorter, and has lots of pictures. Look!” he said, handing it to Gabriel.
“Thanks, brother!” said Gabriel, jumping up and hugging Tommy around the waist. He started to flip through the comic book.
Lillian and Charles went to the kitchen and sat at the table. Charles spoke softly. “I’ll speak with Father Dwyer tomorrow. Find out more about the boy, see what we can do for him.”
“Were they really living all alone? Sick and in poverty?” asked Lillian.
“Apparently so,” said Charles.
Lillian gazed down at the table, her mind filled with visions of taking care of the boy. Cooking warm meals for him and buying him new clothes until they could locate his family. Or perhaps even bringing him into their home. She looked up at the window and saw that the day was starting to darken. She shook her head and sighed. “I’ll get dinner started.”
Gabriel walked into the kitchen; he had put his coat back on.
“Gabriel?” asked Lillian. She didn’t know what to expect from him anymore.
“Don’t be mad, Mom, but I have to go and say goodbye to Tiny. He’s going to leave for the warm place. He’s waiting for me at the park. I have to hurry.”
“I don’t want to let you out of my sight!” said Lillian.
“But, Mommy, I promised! I have to go!”
“I’ll go with him,” said Charles. “We’ll be back before dinner. I promise.”
Tommy started to grab his coat.
“You’re not going anywhere, young man!” said Lillian, not quite sure how Tommy figured into everything, but knowing that he hadn’t been watching Gabriel as closely as she had believed.
After Charles and Gabriel left, Tommy walked into the kitchen, and without being told, he began to set the table.
“Sorry, Mom. I didn’t know. Don’t be mad at me.”
Lillian put her arms around him. “I’m not mad at you, Sweetheart. I should have been more careful.” She had been so concerned with harm coming from the sky, that she hadn’t considered danger from other places.
“Gabriel could have been hurt or something,” said Tommy. “And it would have been all my fault.”
Tommy was so rarely downcast, that Lillian gave him a quick squeeze to cheer him up. “How about we have our gingerbread tonight? Will you help me whip the cream?”
“Sure!” said Tommy, perking up. “That’ll make Gabriel happy.”
*
On the way to the park, Gabriel told Charles all about Tiny and his brother, the orphanage and the nuns, and how Tiny was going to the warm place to meet his uncle, and collect shells and eat coconuts.
The lights in the park were just twinkling on as Charles and Gabriel walked over to the gazebo by the lake. Charles doubted that the boy would show up, but he wanted to do anything that would put Gabriel’s mind at ease. They took a seat inside the gazebo and waited.
After a few moments Gabriel jumped up. “I know where he is,” he said, and he walked down to the lake.
Charles followed him, and there in the gloaming, he saw a figure gazing out at the darkening water, his thin shoulders showing the quiver of restrained weeping.
Tiny heard a noise and whipped around, his eyes full of fear.
“It’s okay, Tiny,” Gabriel called out. “It’s just me and –” Gabriel turned to Charles. “Are you still going to be my dad?”
“Of course, I am,” said Charles, surprised that Gabriel was in any doubt.
“It’s just me and Mr. Drooms, who’s gonna be my dad. It’s okay.”
Charles stepped forward and took a closer look at what he first thought was a little boy. The person now seemed much older, wizened, worn – though he must be only thirteen or so. He was thin, his clothes tattered. There was a youthful energy about him, but his face was old with sadness and worry. A boy-man, just as Gabriel had described him.
“Hey, Tiny.” Gabriel ran over and stood next to his friend.
“Hiya, Gabriel.” He glanced over at Charles.
“I went to your place with the police. But everything was already gone.”
“I have all my stuff,” Tiny said.
They stood in silence for a few moments.
Tiny gazed out at the black lake. A few shimmering lights reflected on its surface, and when the breeze ruffled the water it looked like a sudden sprinkling of stars had just been cast from the heavens. Tiny reached for something inside his jacket, and in one fluid movement he tossed an old tattered book out into the dark water.
“Goodbye, Marcel,” he said softly. “Goodbye, my brother.”
Gabriel looked up at Tiny. “The Count of Monte Cristo?”
Tiny nodded. He looked out at the spot where the book had sunk, and watched the glittering ripples widen and fade. Then a subtle shift slowly took place on his face. The corners of his mouth lifted; the weariness faded, and youthfulness brightened his eyes. “He’s making his escape now.” He turned to Gabriel and smiled.
Tiny looked back out over the lake, and then raised his eyes up to the starry sky. After a few moments, he walked back to the gazebo. From under the bench, he picked up his old black bag, and slung it over his shoulder.
Charles’s heart went out to the small figure. “Tiny,” he said. “Where exactly are you going?”
“To my uncle’s. And then to the warm place.”
“Could you wait a day? And leave tomorrow?” Charles wanted to speak to Father Dwyer first, and get a warm meal inside the boy, and make sure he was prepared for his journey.
“I have to leave tonight so that I’m there by Christmas.”
Charles hesitated before asking, “How are you going to get there?”
“My bus ticket will get me to my uncle’s. After that, I guess I’ll walk.”
Charles started to reach for his wallet, but Tiny took a step back, and looked askance at him.
“I would like to help with the bus fare, Tiny.”
Tiny put his hands behind his back. “No, thank you.”
“Tiny earns his own keep,” explained Gabriel.
Charles didn’t want to offend the boy’s pride, but he wanted to make sure he would have enough for food until he arrived. “I would want someone to help Gabriel, if he were in your place.”
Tiny wasn’t convinced.
“It’s okay, Tiny,” said Gabriel. “I had a dream that your mom said it was okay. She said, ‘thank you for helping my darling boy.’”
Tiny swallowed and his eyes momentarily shone with happiness. “You did? No fooling, Gabriel?”
“My brother?”
“Yep.”
Charles folded all the bills he had in his wallet and put them in Tiny’s coat pocket, and then offered his hand.
Tiny shook his hand, and then bent down to make an adjustment to his shoe, roughly wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve.
He stood back up, and took a deep breath. “Well, I better go now.” He turned to Gabriel. “Bye, Gabriel.”
“Thanks for being my friend, Tiny,” said Gabriel. “I never had a best friend before.”
Tiny gave a small embarrassed laugh, and gave a Gabriel a quick hug, and a nod to Charles. He gave one last look behind him at the lake, and then oriented himself towards the future. “Well, so long then.”
“So long, Tiny.” Gabriel watched his friend walk away. The small dark figure was briefly illuminated as he passed under the lamp light, and then he blended with the darkness.
Charles’s brow knitted in worry as he watched Tiny’s departure. Then he put his arm around Gabriel, and they walked in the other direction, towards home.
“Did you really have that dream, Gabriel?”
“Well, somebody made me think those words. Maybe it was his mom.”
Charles took his hand. “Come on. I bet dinner’s already on the table.”
They walked in silence a while, Charles worrying that Gabriel was too young to be exposed to the realities of poverty, illness, and death. He looked down at him.
“What are you thinking about, Gabriel?”
“Dumbo.”
“Dumbo?” laughed Charles.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Remember when Dumbo and the mouse were asleep in the tree? And then they fell in the water and woke up?” He lifted his face to Charles. “Think we can we see it again?”
Charles put an arm around Gabriel’s shoulder. “Sure, we can.”
*
Mrs. Murphy decided on a tiny bit of lipstick as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed in her holiday red coat and hat. After Brendan left the other night, she sat for a long time remembering her younger, fearful self. She replayed that last night with Brendan in Boston. And the follow-up appointment with her doctor the next day: shock at his diagnosis, horror at his remedy. He had said there was no other way. That night, she had bravely stood before the mirror, parted her robe, and said goodbye to her body; goodbye to her dreams of love with Brendan. Those were dreams that would now belong to some other woman, some healthy woman with a future.
Christmastime 1941 Page 16
