The Great Brain

by John D. Fitzgerald

  When Andy arrived, my brother led him to the woodshed. “We are going to start practicing doing real chores today,” Tom said. “We’ll begin by letting you fill all the wood boxes in our house with kindling wood.”

  Andy looked so happy I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was being taken. With a big happy grin on his face he carried a big armful of kindling wood from our woodshed, up the steps, into the kitchen and dumped it into the wood box by the kitchen range.

  “What is this all about?” Mamma asked.

  “I’m teaching Andy how to do his chores,” Tom said proudly.

  Aunt Bertha just shook her head. “Oh, that boy,” she said.

  I watched as Andy filled the workboxes for the fireplace, the pot-bellied stove in the dining room, and the stove in the bathroom.

  “Now for the coal buckets,” Tom said as we came out of the kitchen carrying empty coal buckets. Then I guess my brother’s conscience bothered him a bit. “No hurry, Andy,” he said. “Take a rest first if you want.”

  Andy still had that happy grin on his face. “I don’t need a rest,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  After Andy had filled all the coal buckets in our house, I thought that was enough for one day. But not Tom.

  “I’d let you do the milking,” Tom said, “but I’m afraid you might spill it carrying it. So, we’ll spend the rest of the day practicing.”

  Tom got a milk pail and filled it full of water at the hydrant. “Now I want you to practice carrying this to the barn and back until it is time for you to go home.”

  Andy spilled half the water out of the bucket the first trip as Tom and I watched.

  “No wonder your father won’t let you bring in the milk,” Tom said. “Give me that bucket.”

  My brother filled the pail with water. Then he strapped on the peg leg. He picked up the pail of water and started to walk. He spilled water all over.

  “Now watch, J.D.,” he said, “and tell me if the water spills when I’m on my right leg or the peg leg.”

  I watched as Tom started to walk. The water spilled when he tried to step on the peg leg. I told him so.

  “It’s because I’m trying to take a natural step,” he said. “Now I’m only going to take a little short step with the peg leg to help me keep an even balance.”

  He looked funny taking a little short step with the peg leg and a big step with the right leg, but he didn’t spill a drop. He removed the peg leg and made Andy put it on while he filled the pail to the brim with water.

  “Now do like you saw me do,” he said to Andy. “A little short step with the peg leg and a natural step with the good leg.”

  Tom made Andy practice until it was time for Andy to go home.

  “Can I start doing my chores at home tomorrow?” Andy asked as if excited.

  “No “ Tom said. “You need at least another week of practice. We don’t want to take any chances your father won’t be completely satisfied.”

  Tom made Andy do all our chores for a whole week before he announced Andy could do his own chores starting the following day.

  It was a proud day for Andy when he reported he had done all the chores he used to do at home before he lost his leg.

  “I brought in the kindling and the coal,” he said when he met us at school. “I slopped the pigs without spilling any of the slop from the buckets. I carried the milk in without spilling a drop. I fed the chickens and collected the eggs. I went to the store for Ma and carried everything home without dropping anything. Pa says he is proud of me. I guess he doesn’t think I’m plumb useless anymore.”

  “You are still useless as a kid,” Tom said. “What good is a kid who can’t run? If you can’t run, you can’t play a lot of games. Meet me in our corral after school and I’ll start teaching you to run.”

  “I can’t stay late anymore,” Andy said. “I’ve got my chores to do now.”

  “We’ll only spend a half an hour a day on school days,” Tom said.

  Andy walked home from school with Tom and me. I knew my brother had a great brain, but trying to teach a kid with a peg leg to run was beyond my imagination. I was curious as all get out as we entered the corral.

  Tom ordered Andy to run around the corral. Andy tried to run but kept falling down. Then Tom strapped on the peg leg. He had no better luck than Andy and kept falling down.

  “There must be some way of doing it,” he said, undaunted. “Tomorrow is Saturday. Meet me here tomorrow afternoon. I’ll put my great brain to work on it and figure out a way to make you run.”

  The next morning Tom and I did all our chores and then Mamma kept finding other things for us to do. We didn’t get a chance to even sit down and rest until just before lunch. We were sitting on the swing on our front porch. We were watching Irene Olsen and Christine Mackie playing hopscotch across the street. Tom suddenly snapped his fingers.

  “That’s it!” he shouted.

  “What?” I asked.

  “My great brain has figured out a way to make Andy run!” he said, grinning.

  “How?” I asked, wondering how a kid with a peg leg could ever learn to run.

  “You’ll see this afternoon,” Tom said mysteriously.

  We ate lunch and then went to meet Andy in our corral. He arrived a few minutes later.

  “Give me that peg leg,” Tom said.

  Tom strapped on the peg leg.

  “Now watch this!” he shouted.

  I burst out laughing as Tom took a hop, skip, and jump on his right leg and then a step on the peg leg. It was like watching a man run on three legs and looked very comical. He fell down a few times but kept on trying until he’d run all the way across the corral and back without even stumbling.

  “Now you try it,” Tom said to Andy as he unstrapped the peg leg.

  An hour later and Andy was ready to give up. He kept falling down when he tried to run.

  “It’s no good,” he said “and besides my knee hurts.”

  “How do you think my knee feels?” Tom demanded as he rolled up his pants leg and showed us a knee that was turning black and blue. “My great brain has figured out a way to make you run and you’re going to learn how to run. Now try it again.”

  A week later Andy was singing a different tune. Tom had made him practice running every day.

  “Today,” Tom said as we entered the corral, “you are going to race J.D. across the corral and back and you are going to beat him.”

  “I’ll beat him,” Andy said confidently.

  Andy and I got on our marks and got set. Tom gave the signal. I beat Andy across the corral but I had to slow down to turn around. Andy just spun around on his peg leg without slowing down and beat me back to the starting line.

  “You can now run well enough to play any game,” Tom announced.

  “I can’t play ball,” Andy said.

  “Why not?” Tom asked.

  “Because I can’t bat with a peg leg,” Andy explained.

  “We’ll fix that,” Tom said.

  And fix it he did. Within a week he had Andy batting better with a peg leg than Andy could ever bat with two good legs. Tom discovered that Andy shut his eyes when he took a swing at the ball. As soon as he trained Andy to keep his eyes on the ball, Andy began whacking Tom’s pitches all over the corral.

  On a Friday Tom held a whispered conference with Basil during the morning recess. When school let out, Tom and I walked part of the way home with Andy.

  “Tomorrow is the big day,” Tom announced. “Meet me in my backyard in the morning and I’ll prove you aren’t useless as a kid anymore.”

  The three of us were in our backyard the next morning when Basil arrived with Sammy Leeds, Danny Forester, Jimmie Peterson, and Pete Kyle.

  Sammy was the first to speak. “Basil tells us he is retiring as champion Indian squaw wrestler. I guess that makes you champ, Tom.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Tom said. “You almost beat me a few times.”

  “l almost did at that,” Sa
mmy said, nodding.

  “With Basil retiring,” Tom said, “I think it’s only fair to hold an elimination contest to find out who the new champion is going to be.”

  Tom led the way around to our front lawn, which was turning brown from the approach of winter.

  “As runner-up to the champ,” Tom said, “it will be up to me to defeat all challengers if I’m to be the champion. Who wants to try first?”

  “I’ll try,” Jimmie Peterson said. “I know I can’t beat you but I’ll try.”

  Tom had no trouble beating Jimmie, Danny, Pete, and me. It was then Sammy’s turn. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched Sammy win the first match. Tom came back and won the second match. The rubber match looked as if it was going to be a tie. At the count of three they locked knees. They grunted and puffed with their right legs remaining upward for a long time. Then slowly and surely Sammy began pushing Tom’s leg down. I watched with astonishment as Sammy nipped my brother over backward and won the rubber match.

  Sammy jumped to his feet, grinning. “I guess that makes me champ,” he said.

  Tom got up looking very downhearted because he’d lost. “There is one more challenger,” he said. “Andy.”

  “It wouldn’t be fair to wrestle a cripple,” Sammy said.

  “You can’t be the champion unless you take on all challengers,” Tom said.

  “I’ll put him down without trying,” Sammy boasted.

  Sammy and Andy lay down on the lawn and took their positions. Tom counted one, two, three and they locked legs at the knees. There was a look of complete bewilderment on Sammy’s face as Andy dipped the bigger boy over in a backward somersault.

  “I wasn’t set,” Sammy complained to Tom.

  “All right,” Tom said. “The first one doesn’t count. Now for the championship match. Best two out of three. Are you ready this time, Sammy?”

  “All set,” Sammy replied.

  Andy won two straight matches and became the new champion. We all crowded around Andy to congratulate him and pat him on the back, except Sammy. Poor old Sammy just sat on the lawn with a look on his face as if he still couldn’t believe Andy had beaten him.

  Tom suggested we go into our backyard and play Duck on a Rock. Only four could play at a time. Tom chose Andy for his partner. Sammy chose Danny Forester as his partner for the first game. Tom and Andy beat Sammy and Danny.

  Then they beat Basil and Jimmie and finally had no trouble beating Pete Kyle and me.

  “Let’s change partners this time,” Sammy suggested. “I’ll take Andy for my partner.”

  I don’t know if my brother tried his best or not, but Andy and Sammy knocked off ten ducks to eight ducks for Tom and Danny and won the game. Then Sammy and Andy beat Basil and Jimmie and then clobbered me and Pete.

  “I’ve had enough of this game,” Tom said. “Let’s play Kick the Can.”

  “Why not play something Andy can play?” Sammy asked.

  “What makes you think he can’t play Kick the Can?” Tom asked.

  “He can’t run on his peg leg,” Sammy said.

  “We always let J.D. play,” Tom said. “If Andy can beat him running, it means he can play.”

  “Sure,” Sammy agreed, “but how can Andy run on a peg leg?”

  Tom pointed. “They will race to the end of the alley and back to the woodshed.”

  We all went into the alley, where Andy and I got on our marks.

  “One for the money,” Tom chanted, “two for the show, three to get on your marks, and off you go.”

  I ran as fast as I could, but Andy beat me back to the woodshed by ten feet.

  “Gosh, Peg Leg,” Sammy said, patting Andy on the shoulder, “you were just great. I would never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” He began laughing. “You looked funny as the devil, but how you can run.”

  The other kids all congratulated Andy. We played Kick the Can until it was time for lunch. I had to run an errand for Mamma after lunch. I ran all the way to the Smiths’ vacant lot after the errand where I knew the kids were meeting to play baseball. Tom and Sammy had just finished hands over fists on Sammy’s bat. Tom had won and got first choice in choosing up the two teams to play. Sammy didn’t even look surprised when Tom chose Andy first. I guess after what had happened that morning Sammy wouldn’t have been surprised if Andy had run and jumped over our barn.

  We knew we would have time to play only five innings before we all had to go home and do our chores. I was playing third base on Tom’s team. My brother was pitching and Andy was catching. Tom held our opponents scoreless for four innings, but in the top of the fifth they got two runs before we made the third out. Tom was lead-off man our last time at bat. He hit the second pitch for a single. Basil then made a sacrifice bunt that put Tom on second base. Then Sammy, who was pitching, got wild and gave Pete Kyle a base on balls. Sammy settled down and struck out Seth Smith. It was then Andy’s turn at bat and our only hope of winning the game. He took two strikes and two balls and then hit the next pitch for a home run. We won the game three to two.

  It had taken Tom and his great brain four weeks to prove Andy wasn’t useless and could hold his own in any games we kids played. I’d forgotten about the erector set until after supper that evening. Andy came to our front door carrying the set under his arm. He asked Tom to come out on the front porch. I followed.

  “Here is the erector set like I promised,” Andy said. “I told my pa all you did for me. I told him how you showed me I could still do my chores with my peg leg. I told him how you helped me so I could play games with the kids with my peg leg. I told him how you made me feel I was no longer useless. I told him how I would have killed myself if it hadn’t been for you. I told him how you made me want to go on living. And I told him I had promised you the erector set if you could prove to him and to me I wasn’t useless anymore. Pa said it was all right to give it to you.”

  It was at that moment in my brother’s life when he was suddenly attacked by a strange disease which completely paralyzed his great brain and he didn’t know what he was saying or doing. At least that is what I thought when Tom didn’t snatch the erector set out of Andy’s hands.

  “It is true,” Tom said modestly. “My great brain saved you from a suicide’s grave. It is also true I proved to you and your pa that you weren’t useless. And it is true we made a deal and I have more than lived up to my end of the bargain. But it just doesn’t seem right somehow for me to take the erector set.”

  Andy’s eyes got wide. “Don’t you want it?” he asked, hugging the set to his chest.

  “Of course I want it,” Tom answered, “but it just doesn’t seem right getting paid for helping somebody not to be useless anymore. You keep the set, Andy. I’ll come over and play with it sometimes.”

  It is a dream, I told myself. I watched Andy press his lips together as tears bubbled up in his eyes.

  “You can play with the set anytime,” he said. “And my pa said to thank you for him. My ma said God bless you and she would pray for you. Ain’t no way for me to say what I feel inside for you making me so I’m not useless anymore. I guess I’ll just have to thank you in my prayers and ask God to bless you too.”

  Andy walked to our front gate. I could see tears streaming down his cheeks as he turned to wave at us. I knew they were tears of happiness and gratitude as I watched him go whistling down Main Street with the erector set under his arm. Then my thoughts turned to my poor brother.

  “I’ll get Mamma to call Dr. LeRoy right away,” I said, starting for the front door, positive my poor brother was so sick he didn’t know what he was doing.

  Tom grabbed my arm and stopped me. “I’m not sick, J.D.,” he said, smiling at me. “As a matter of fact I feel extra good inside. Sort of clean and warm and Christmasy.”

  I stood there bug-eyed as I watched Tom remove the Indian beaded belt Uncle Mark had given me for my birthday and hold out the belt toward me.

  “Here is your belt back, J.D.,”
he said. “It is a little worn by now but still the only genuine Indian beaded belt in town.”

  There wasn’t anything my brother could have done to convince me more that he expected to die any moment from this strange malady that had seized him.

  “I’m not going to take advantage of you when I know you are so sick you don’t know what you are saying or doing,” I said with my heart breaking with pity for my poor brother.

  “Please, J.D.,” Tom said as he pleaded with me for the first time in his life, “if you love me as a brother you will take back the belt. I’m not sick. I give you my word. It is just that something has come over me and made me feel real good inside.”

  And so it came to pass just a week before Christmas of that year a miracle took place in Adenville, Utah. The Christmas spirit arrived at our house early and with the help of a boy with a peg leg made a true Christian out of my brother.

  Things got mighty dull after The Great Brain decided to give up his crooked ways and to walk the straight and narrow. So dull Papa didn’t even bother to come upstairs and see if Tom was in bed the night the schoolhouse burned down. So dull there is no more to tell.

  About the Author

  JOHN D. FITZGERALD was born in Utah and lived there until the age of eighteen, when he began a series of interesting careers ranging from jazz drummer to foreign correspondent. He wrote several adult best-sellers, including Papa Married a Mormon, which was set in the same Utah environment as the Great Brain books. His most beloved works, however, are his children’s books, which have been enormously popular since Dial’s first publication of The Great Brain in 1967. By 1975, Fitzgerald had published six more Great Brain books; a seventh, The Great Is Back, was discovered and published after his death. John D. Fitzgerald died in Florida, his home of many years, at the age of eighty-one.

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  The Magic Water Closet

  CHAPTER 2

  Revenge Can Be Sour

  CHAPTER 3

  The Great Brain Saves the Day

  CHAPTER 4