Sweyn was so angry that he grabbed my shoulders and began shaking me. “Mean to tell me you deliberately got the mumps just so you could give them to me and T.D.?”
“You guessed it,” I said and couldn’t help gloating. “It will take two to three weeks under Mamma’s system for you and T.D. to get them. By that time I will be all well. I’ll be the one who rubs it in. I’ll be the one who is out playing while you two are lying in bed, groaning with pain.”
I didn’t mind telling them because I knew my brothers were not tattletales. They made no protest when Mamma moved me down to her bedroom and made both of them get into bed with me to get infected. They did torture me when the mumps got so bad I could only swallow mush and soup. They would come into the room, chewing on a drumstick or eating a piece of cake or pie, and smack their lips as they told me how good it tasted. They spent a fortune on candy just to eat it in front of me, knowing with the mumps I couldn’t take a bite of candy because of the pain in chewing. Finally I could stand it no longer. I protested against this barbaric torture to Mamma.
“I think your brothers have every right to tease you this way,” Mamma said.
“Tease me!” I cried out. “It is worse than Indian torture.”
“Then bear it like an Indian,” Mamma said. “I was a bit suspicious when you seemed so happy to get the mumps. I put two and two together and had a talk with Mrs. Kay. She in turn had a talk with her son Howard. I think you deserve the punishment your brothers are giving you.”
I was positive I would starve to death or go out of my mind as Sweyn and Tom continued to torture me. But I made it. My day of glory finally arrived. I was all well while Tom and Sweyn lay groaning with pain in Mamma’s bedroom, with their cheeks and jaws swelled up like they had two baseballs in their mouths.
Mamma made fresh bread that day. If there was anything my two brothers liked the most, it was to take the heel of a fresh-baked loaf of bread, smother it with butter and sugar, and then put it in the oven until the sugar turned brown. It was better than candy. I entered the bedroom with a heel of bread covered with butter and toasted sugar.
“I thought I’d have a little snack before going out to play,” I said as I waved the heel of bread back and forth so they could smell it. Then I took a bite out of it. “Boy is this delicious. Don’t you wish you could have a bite?”
They were so jealous neither one of them said anything as I ate the heel, and they watched me with their mouths watering. Then I pulled out a stick of red licorice. I took a bite out of it.
“I’d offer you fellows a bite but I know you can’t chew anything,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to eat it all by myself.” And then I really rubbed it in. “I’ll be thinking of you fellows during supper tonight,” I said. “Mamma is having fried chicken and I know how you both love fried chicken. And while you are having only soup to eat, I’ll be stuffing myself with good old fried chicken and a piece of Aunt Bertha’s delicious apple pie.”
“Beat it,” Sweyn said, unable to endure the torture any longer.
“As soon as I finish my licorice,” I said, taking another bite of it. “Then I’m going outside to play. You’ll hear me whistling and shouting happily as I play outside the bedroom window so you can hear, while you two lie here groaning and moaning.”
Tom suddenly sat up in bed. “I’ve got news for you, J.D.,” he said, making a face because it hurt his throat to talk. “Beginning right now, S.D. and I are going to give you the silent treatment. And because of the dirty trick you played on us, we are going to give you the silent treatment for a whole month after we are well.” He looked at Sweyn who nodded. “These are the last words you’ll hear from me or S.D. until a month after we are well.”
The silent treatment! I hadn’t thought about that. Papa and Mamma had a system for punishing us boys when we did something wrong. They never gave us a whipping like other kids got from their parents. When they wanted to punish us, they both just stopped speaking to us. Sometimes the silent treatment lasted only one day. Sometimes it would last a whole week. It was ten times worse than getting a whipping. They would both pretend we didn’t even exist. Even while eating, if I asked Mamma or Papa to pass the butter, they would pretend they didn’t hear me, and Tom or Sweyn or Aunt Bertha would have to pass it to me.
I soon discovered that the silent treatment by Papa and Mamma was mild compared to the silent treatment by Tom and Sweyn. They took all the joy out of me being able to rub it in about them being sick and me being well. When I went into the bedroom, they both just turned over on their stomachs and ignored me. I also discovered there was no joy in being able to play without Tom. It was as if I’d lost the one thing that made playing fun. My revenge had turned sour. My life was lonely and miserable during the days Tom and Sweyn were confined to bed with the mumps. I cried myself to sleep at night after praying to God to never let my little brain get any more foolish ideas.
Little did I know the worst was yet to come. When Tom and Sweyn were well enough to be up and around, they both continued to give me the silent treatment. Tom refused to speak to me or play with me and so did Sweyn. I went through three days of torture before Tom relented one night as we undressed for bed.
“That was a dirty trick you pulled on S.D. and me,” he said as he pulled off his pants. “Do you admit it was a dirty trick?”
“Yes,” I answered. Just having him speak to me even this way made me feel better.
“And do you admit you should be punished for it?” Tom asked.
“Yes, but not too much punishment,” I cried. “I’ll go crazy if you and S.D. give me the silent treatment for a whole month.”
“There are two ways to punish you,” Tom said as he folded his pants and put them on a chair. “Giving you the silent treatment for a month is one.”
“I’ll die if you do,” I said. Then I took hope. “You said there were two ways. What is the other way?”
“The other way would be to make you give up something you want to keep,” he said. “If you agreed to give up something you really like, I would get S.D. to call off the silent treatment with me.”
“I’ll give you anything I’ve got.” I said happily.
“Even the Indian beaded belt Uncle Mark gave you for your birthday?” Tom asked.
The belt was the envy of every kid in town. It was a stiff price to pay. I hesitated.
“Forget it, J.D.,” Tom said. “These are the last words I’ll speak to you for a whole month.”
I hesitated no longer. “You can have the belt,” I said quickly before he might change his mind.
Tom got up from the bed where he was sitting. I watched him walk to my chair, remove the belt from my pants, and hang it on his chair.
“And to show you my heart is in the right place,” he said, “I’m not going to charge you anything for getting Sweyn to lift the silent treatment.”
I threw my arms around him and hugged him. “You sure are good to me,” I said gratefully.
“That is what brothers are for,” Tom said. “Good-night, J.D.”
It was worth the belt just to have him talk to me and say good-night to me. Before going to sleep that night, I included Tom in my prayers and thanked God for giving me such a big-hearted and wonderful brother.
CHAPTER THREE
The Great Brain Saves the Day
WITH THE END OF THE silent treatment, I could look forward to three big events. School was over for the year. Tom and Sweyn had promised to teach me how to swim. And I was going to mate my dog, Brownie, with a dog named Lady. Brownie was the only dog we had ever owned who wasn’t a mongrel. He was a purebred Alaskan. A rancher who was a friend of Papa’s had given me the pup on my fifth birthday.
I guess because Brownie was a thoroughbred, it made him different. He didn’t run and play with other dogs, but be would fight them if they wanted to fight. He was such a good fighter that it wasn’t long until every dog in town was afraid of him. If any dog came near him, Brownie would show his teeth and begin
to growl and chase them away.
Every kid in town who owned a female dog wanted to mate it with Brownie. But my dog wanted nothing to do with them. It sure looked as if Brownie would never be a father, until the Jensen brothers got a sheep dog named Lady from their uncle. Lady was the first dog that Brownie didn’t chase away when she came near him. To my surprise he even ran and played with her.
I knew Tom had this on his mind when he approached me with a proposition. We were sitting on our back porch steps just sort of lazily enjoying the beginning of the summer vacation.
“J.D.,” Tom said, “let me arrange to mate Brownie with Lady and I’ll see to it you get the pick of the litter of pups.”
“I don’t need you to arrange it,” I said, thinking he was going to charge me for it. “As the owner of the male dog I get the pick of the litter anyway.”
“You will probably pick the worst pup in the litter,” he said.
He had me there. All puppies looked alike to me.
“How much is it going to cost me?” I asked cautiously.
“How can you think such a thing?” Tom asked indignantly. “You know I’m very sharp when it comes to judging puppies. I just don’t want my own brother to get stung.”
“You mean you’ll do it for nothing?” I asked, unable to believe my ears.
“Of course, J.D.,” he said. “But we’ll have to wait until Lady is in heat.”
“What’s heat?” I asked.
“A female dog can have pups twice a year,” Tom said. “And that time of the year is when she is in heat.”
“How do you know when it happens?” I asked.
“For one thing the female dog will start acting kind of silly every time it sees a male dog,” he answered. “And when in heat, the female dog gives off a peculiar odor. When the male dog smells this odor, he knows the female dog wants to mate.”
“It’s a deal,” I said. “And remember, you said there would be no charge.”
A few days later during breakfast Tom and Sweyn told Papa they were going to take me down to the river and teach me how to swim that afternoon. I was so excited that I thought the morning would never end. And then after lunch we had to wait an hour before we could go swimming, knowing if we went any sooner we might get cramps.
We ran into Frank and Allan Jensen on our way to the river. They had Lady with them. Frank was Tom’s age and his brother was the same age as Sweyn. They were blond kids with hair that was almost white. Shocks of it protruded from beneath their caps like bangs over their foreheads.
“Lady is in heat now,” Allan said. “How about bringing Brownie over to our place tomorrow and we’ll put them in our barn?”
“We’ll be there,” Tom said.
“You fellows going swimming?” Sweyn asked.
“No,” Allan said. “We are going exploring. Want to come along?”
“We can’t today,” Tom said. “We promised to teach J.D. how to swim.”
We left the Jensen brothers and Lady and continued on to the swimming hole in the river. We stripped naked. There were about a dozen kids already swimming and diving as I followed Tom and Sweyn to the bank of the river. Sweyn then led me into the river until the water was up to my armpits.
“I’m going to hold your chin, J.D.,” he said. “You paddle dog-fashion and kick your legs.”
I was scared but felt safe as long as Sweyn was holding my chin as he took me into deeper water.
“Now keep paddling and kicking,” Sweyn said as he let go of my chin.
My head went under water. I tried to scream only to swallow more water. I was sure I was going to drown and let everybody know it as my head came above the water. Sweyn grabbed hold of my hair and pulled me into shallow water. He and Tom looked completely disgusted as they led me out of the river.
Tom looked at Sweyn. “Well?” he asked.
“I guess it is the only way,” Sweyn said.
My oldest brother grabbed me and picked me up in his arms. I screamed bloody murder and tried to wiggle loose. He held me tight as he carried me up the plank used as a diving board over the deepest part of the swimming hole. I knew this was how almost every kid in town learned to swim, but I wanted no part of it.
“Let me go!” I screamed. “I’ll drown for sure.”
“You won’t drown,” Sweyn said. “You just keep paddling dog-fashion with your hands and kicking your legs and you won’t drown. And it won’t do you any good to yell for help, J.D., because I’m not going to jump in after you.”
“Please let me go,” I begged, more afraid than I’d ever been in my life.
“Stop that blubbering,” Sweyn ordered me, “or I’ll tell Papa you acted like a coward and disgraced the name of Fitzgerald before all these kids.”
I stopped bawling. Sweyn had given me no other choice. I might as well drown as have him tell Papa I was a coward.
“Here you go, J.D.,” Sweyn yelled as he tossed me from the diving board into the deepest part of the swimming hole. He sounded as if he enjoyed drowning his own brother.
I hit the water and went down until my feet touched bottom. I tried to scream and got a bellyful of water. I began paddling with my hands and kicking my legs like sixty. Then my head came out of the water. I breathed in air.
“Atta boy!” I heard Tom yell.
I was too interested in saving my own life to pay any attention to him. I was sure I was going to drown before I reached the bank of the river. Then my fingers touched mud. I never knew mud could feel so good as I crawled up the river bank.
Sweyn and Tom patted me on the back.
“You swam more than twenty feet,” Sweyn said.
Tom nodded. “But next time don’t scream and yell,” he said. “Keep your mouth shut.”
“The next time?” I asked, and felt myself get sick inside.
“As soon as you get your wind,” Tom said.
“Right,” Sweyn said. “And this time you are going to run and jump off the diving board all by yourself.”
“I am not” I said as I started for my clothes. “I’m going home.”
Sweyn grabbed me. “You run and jump off that diving board or I’ll keep throwing you off it until you do.”
“And we’ll let the kids chaw-raw-beef your clothes,” Tom threatened.
I don’t know if I was more frightened of jumping off the diving board or having my clothes chaw-raw-beefed. A kid had to be disliked a lot to have his clothes chaw-raw-beefed, which consisted of soaking them in the river and then tying the socks, shirt, pants, and underwear in tight knots.
“Papa and Mamma will never forgive you two if I drown,” I said, feeling like a martyr.
“And,” Tom said, “they will never forgive you if you turn out to be a coward.”
I knew there was no way out. Every kid at the swimming hole was watching as I started for the diving board. My legs trembled so much I could hardly walk. I was only eight years old and going to my death. I stopped as I reached the diving board. I looked down the river. All I had to do was to run down the river bank and into the bushes. But if I did, I could never go home again. I was pretty young to go into the mountains and live like a naked savage. If I ran now, I would be a coward. Better by far to drown than to disgrace our family name.
I took a deep breath and ran right up the diving board and jumped into the swimming hole. This time I held my breath and kept my mouth shut as I paddled and kicked my way to the surface. Then I began paddling furiously with my arms and kicking my legs. The next thing I knew I had reached the river bank. All the kids ran up to congratulate me. It was the proudest moment of my life. I wasn’t afraid of the water anymore. As soon as I got my wind I ran and jumped off the diving board again.
I was waiting on the front porch with Tom and Sweyn when Papa came home from the Adenville Weekly Advocate office that evening.
“Well, J.D.,” Papa said, smiling at me, “did you learn how to swim today?”
“Yes, Papa,” I said, and had to restrain myself not to brag abo
ut it.
“He’s a regular ducky,” Sweyn said. “He ran and jumped off the diving board and swam to the river bank a dozen times.”
Papa took out his purse and removed a quarter. “I think you deserve a reward, J.D., for learning how to swim in one day.” He handed me the quarter.
As soon as Papa entered the house Tom looked at me. ‘Why should Papa give you a quarter when it was S.D. and I who taught you how to swim? Of course, J.D., if you want to be greedy and keep it all for yourself, I guess that is your business.”
I was feeling so proud of myself I would have gladly shared the quarter with my brothers on the spot if Sweyn hadn’t come to my rescue.
“For gosh sakes, T.D.,” he said as if disgusted with Tom, “can’t you let anybody have a nickel to themselves without trying to connive them out of it?” Then he looked at me. “Go put the money in your bank, J.D., before The Great Brain figures out a way to take it away from you.”
We were eating supper that evening when the telephone rang with one long ring and two short rings.
“That is for us,” Mamma said as she got up from the able.
Mamma went into the hallway to answer the phone. When she returned, she looked worried.
“That was Mrs. Jensen,” she said as she sat down at the table. “Did you boys see Frank or Allan today?”
Tom nodded. “We met them on our way to the swimming hole this afternoon.”
“Did they go swimming with you?” Mamma asked.
“No “ Tom answered. “They said they were going exploring.”
“What is the matter, Tena?” Papa asked.
“They didn’t come home for supper,” Mamma answered.
“The boys probably didn’t realize how late it was getting,” Papa said.
“Just the same,” Mamma said, “I am going over there as soon as we finish eating. You boys help Bertha with the dishes.”
Papa didn’t appear worried until it was almost our bedtime, when Uncle Mark stopped by. Uncle Mark came into the parlor. The light from the chandelier was shining on the marshal’s badge pinned to his shirt.
The Great Brain Page 4
