Barefoot Boy with Cheek

by Max Shulman

  “Friend, you did right,” they said to me.

  “I’ll tell you, chum,” said Roger, putting his arm around me, sticking a cigarette in my mouth, and lighting it, “there’s fraternities and there’s fraternities. I don’t like to knock anybody, but there’s some bad fraternities as well as good fraternities. A fellow who joins a bad fraternity is almost as bad off as a fellow who don’t join no fraternity at all. And you know how bad off a fellow is who don’t join no fraternity at all. Damn barb.” Roger spat angrily.

  The three at the doors fired shots into the wall to indicate their feelings about a fellow who didn’t join any fraternity.

  “But you’re lucky,” Roger continued, sticking another cigarette in my mouth and lighting it. “You picked the best fraternity first crack off the bat. How about that, fellows?”

  “Friend, you did right,” they said.

  “Yes sir, the very best. Alpha Cholera isn’t one of those little upstart fraternities. No sir. Do you know when we were founded?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Five hundred B.C. Alpha Cholera was founded in ancient Greece by three fellows named Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. They did not give their last names. Even in those days people knew a good thing when they saw one, and all the right people in Greece joined Alpha Cholera. The spring formal at the Parthenon was the high spot of the social year in Athens. They had the best orchestra in the country, Oedipus Rex. ‘Fling and flex with Oedipus Rex’ was his slogan.

  “But just like it is today, Alpha Cholera was choosy about who it let in. The mayor of Athens, Nick, tried to get his son into the fraternity, but Alpha Cholera was not going to take nobody with a ram’s head. It meant banishment.

  “So the members hied themselves off to Rome. They were carried most of the way on the back of their sergeant at arms, a chap named Aeneas. When they finally reached Rome, they were so exhausted that they collapsed on the ground. They would have perished, had it not been for a passing she-wolf who suckled them.

  “In Rome Alpha Cholera did not fare well. The members were relentlessly hunted out and murdered by the barbarous Romans. Finally there was only one Alpha Cholera left, a fellow called Androcles. He hid for a time in the basement of a sympathetic Roman candlestick maker named Phelps or Mazinik. Eventually Androcles was apprehended, and it was decided that he was to be thrown to the lions.

  “While thousands of spectators sat in the Colosseum and roared for blood, Androcles bravely entered the lion’s cage. The beast rushed at him. Stout-hearted Androcles proceeded to grapple. Unwittingly, as he seized the lion’s paw, he gave him the secret Alpha Cholera handshake. The lion paused. He licked Androcles’ face and refused to do further battle. He, too, was an Alpha Cholera, Swahili chapter.

  “Androcles was spared and lived to carry forward the torch of Alpha Cholera. After his death, we know that Alpha Cholera continued to exist, but we are not sure of the details. We believe that there was a chapter in Pompeii. When the noted archaeologist, Dudley Digs, excavated the ruins of Pompeii, he found a corpse wearing a pin that bore the initials A.C. We think that stood for Alpha Cholera. Digs, himself, holds to another theory. The corpse who was wearing the pin also held a dulcimer in his hand, and Digs believes that the A.C. meant “Ad Carthage” where the Roman musicians’ union was going to hold its convention the year of the Pompeiian disaster.

  “Be that as it may, we know that somehow Alpha Cholera went forward unbrokenly. In the writings of Cellini we find this passage: ‘I saw this night a comely wench upon the thoroughfare. After pleasant amenities she accompanied me to my quarters where we deported ourselves pleasantly until she, seeing a bauble upon my blouse, expressed a desire for it. I gave her that and other things and having done, hit her in the mouth, took back the bauble, and flung her from my casement.’ The bauble was, of course, an Alpha Cholera pin.

  “We are certain, too, that Robespierre was an Alpha Cholera. The motto for the French Revolution was originally ‘Liberty, Equality.’ Robespierre inserted the ‘Fraternity.’

  “And who do you think brought Alpha Cholera to America? The pilgrim fathers, no less. They were an Alpha Cholera chapter in London, but they lost the lease on their house when their landlady, the old lady of Thread-needle Street, found out that they were dancing on Saturday nights. She hated dancing since years before when she had gone out with an adagio dancer named Ike, who had snatched her purse and thrown her into a passing circus wagon where she had been assaulted four times by an orang-utan. So the pilgrim fathers came to America where nobody could interfere with their Saturday-night hops.”

  “My. You certainly have an illustrious history,” I exclaimed, removing the cigarettes from my mouth so I could talk.

  “Friend, you said right,” said the three at the doors.

  “Now, you just sit here and smoke a cigarette while I get you a pledge card to sign,” Roger said, inserting another cigarette in my mouth.

  “Well, wait a minute,” I protested. “I really hadn’t intended to join a fraternity today. I was just walking along the sidewalk here when I happened to fall into your pit. I really wasn’t thinking about joining a fraternity. I hope you understand I have nothing against your fraternity. It seems to be a totally admirable institution. And I certainly do appreciate all these cigarettes I am smoking. I am grateful, too, for the time you have spent telling me all about Alpha Cholera. But, to be perfectly frank, I wasn’t even thinking about joining a fraternity—at least, not today.”

  The three with guns moved in on me. Roger waved them back. “Of course,” he said simply. “How stupid of me. You want a little time to think it over. Well, why don’t you have lunch here, and perhaps we can talk about it some more?”

  “Oh, I don’t think I should. You have done too much for me already.”

  “Oh, pooh,” said Roger. “It’s nothing. Harry, go get something to eat for our friend.”

  One of the doorkeepers left.

  “Really, Roger,” I cried, “you shouldn’t!”

  “Tut, tut,” Roger said. “I want you to think of the Alpha Cholera house as your home away from home.”

  I felt a lump rise in my throat. “I think that’s the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me,” I said simply.

  Roger lowered his eyes modestly. Harry came in with my lunch. I looked, and for a moment I thought my senses were deceiving me, for Harry had laid a plate of hominy grits before me, and they were arranged to spell out:

  Alpha Cholera is glad you’re here.

  Eat these grits in all good cheer.

  Unable to speak, I looked at Roger. He smiled reassuringly and bade me eat. As I started to eat, the three at the doors came over to Roger. They all patted me on the shoulder, and then, putting their arms about one another, proceeded to sing this song:

  “Stand, good men, take off your hat

  To Alpha Cholera, our swell frat.

  In our midst you’ll find no rat,

  And don’t let anyone tell you that.

  “Be you lean or be you fat,

  Join Alpha Cholera, our swell frat.

  Since long ago, when first we mat,

  Our swell bunch is together yat.”

  As their last soft chords died, I could see through the leaded panes of the window the flaming orb of the sun expire gently into the west. The earth was bathed in the soft pastel of the vanishing day.

  “Want some salt on those grits?” Roger asked gently.

  I shook my head, for my tears were salt enough. Understanding, Roger perceived my condition and said, “Let’s go, fellows. He wants to be alone for a while.” They patted my throbbing shoulders and left, still singing the Alpha Cholera song in close harmony.

  I finished the grits and licked the plate so they wouldn’t have to wash it. Then I wiped my nose on my sleeve and let my thoughts take possession of me. If somebody had told me before I came to the University that my fellow students were going to make such a to-do over me, I would have cried, “Go to, sirrah, and make not l
ight of my innocence.” But it was all true. Here was I, a complete stranger, taken without question into the bosom of my fellows. Ah, alma mater, you are indeed my adopted mother, I thought.

  Roger and the others returned. “How was it?” Roger asked.

  “The lunch? It was divine.”

  “Well, that gives you a rough idea of the kind of cuisine we have at Alpha Cholera. And hominy grits is only an example of what you’ll get. We often have peanut-butter sandwiches, baked beans, turnip greens, and head cheese. And on legal holidays we always have mackerel.”

  “No!” I exclaimed.

  “Yes,” said Roger. “And would you believe it, our kitchen shows a profit year after year. But enough. Let’s get down to business. Are you ready to join?”

  The three at the doors had put their guns in their holsters. Now they drew them again.

  “Well,” I said, “how much does it cost?”

  “Why, bless you,” Roger said, “don’t you worry about that. Come with me. I’ll introduce you to some of the fellows.”

  He took me by the hand and led be upstairs to the dormitory. “We have one of the biggest B.M.O.C.’s in Alpha Cholera,” he said, as we walked up the stairs.

  “What’s a B.M.O.C.?” I asked.

  “A Big Man on Campus,” he explained.

  We stopped in front of a room near the head of the stairs. “This room belongs to Eino Fflliikkiinnenn,” Roger said reverently.

  “Not Eino Fflliikkiinnenn, the football player!” I cried.

  “Yes,” said Roger. “He will be your fraternity brother.”

  I was all shaky inside as we entered Fflliikkiinnenn’s room. He was standing in a corner beating his head methodically against the wall. “He’s toughening up for the football season,” Roger whispered.

  “Eino,” Roger called, “here’s a man who wants to meet you. He is going to pledge Alpha Cholera.”

  Eino grabbed my hand in a hearty grip. “Ay tink dot’s real nice,” he said. “Ay am happy to call you my brudder.”

  I did not trust myself to speak.

  “Did I do good, Roger?” said Eino.

  “Yes, Eino,” Roger answered. “Now let go of his hand and go back to your exercises.”

  “Say, Roger,” Eino said, “you didn’t pay me yat dis mont’.”

  “Is that so?” said Roger. “Well, it’s just an oversight. I’ll see that you get your money right away.”

  “You batter,” Eino said. “Ay got a goot offer from Mu Beta Fistula to live over dere. Dey pay on time too.”

  “I’ll see that you get your money. Don’t worry,” said Roger.

  “You batter,” Eino said, “and cash. No more beer chips.”

  We left.

  “Just think of being a fraternity brother of Eino Fflliikkiinnenn’s,” Roger said to me.

  “I can’t imagine anything more heavenly,” I answered.

  Roger rubbed his hands. “Well, then, should I get the pledge card?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I really wasn’t thinking of joining a fraternity. I just happened to be walking by when I fell into—”

  “Let’s go take a look at our record collection,” Roger interrupted.

  We went downstairs to a large radio phonograph with an enclosed record cabinet. “We got everything,” Roger said, “Goodman, Shaw, Basie, Dorsey, Herman, anything you want. All the new stuff too. Just got a new Andrews sisters disc today. ‘Death and Transfiguration’ on one side, ‘Dope Me, Doctor, with a Sulfa Drug’ on the other. Or maybe you like the heavier stuff. Symphonic. We got all you want. ‘Filigree on Derriere’s Variation of a Theme of Merde’ recorded by the Rush City Four. And ‘Afternoon of a Prawn.’ Anything you want.”

  But again he was taking me somewhere. I followed him into a room piled waist high with pictures of girls. “Pictures here of every girl on the campus. Name, address, age, height, weight, habits, and food and liquor capacity written on the back. Also achievement records of all the fellows who have ever taken her out. Join Alpha Cholera and be sure what you’re getting into.”

  “Land sakes,” I said admiringly.

  “Now will you pledge?” Roger asked.

  I took his two hands in mine and looked him in the eyes. “Whatever you think best, Roger,” I said simply.

  He rubbed his hands rapidly, starting a minor conflagration on his cuffs. “Now, I suppose you want to discuss finances. Well, just you don’t worry about that at all. I’ll call our treasurer, and we’ll have every little thing all straightened out as fast as you can say Jack Robinson. You’ll like our treasurer.”

  Roger left and came back in a few minutes with the treasurer. “This is our treasurer, Shylock Fiscal,” he said.

  “Well, you finally got one,” he said to Roger.

  Roger smiled modestly.

  “I was about to go to work,” Shylock said.

  “Where there’s life there’s hope,” Roger reminded him.

  “I just about gave up,” Shylock confessed. “It’s getting worse each year, what with the other houses serving meat and keeping a dozen B.M.O.C.’s and—”

  “That reminds me,” Roger interrupted. “Eino wants to get paid.”

  “Give him some beer chips,” suggested Shylock.

  “No, he wants cash.”

  “Cash, huh? Well, let’s see what we can get from this turnip.” Shylock turned to me. “I’m Shylock Fiscal,” he said cheerily. “Just call me Shy. Everybody does. I guess it’s because I’m not. Heh, heh, heh.”

  “Heh, heh, heh,” laughed Roger.

  I joined the general merriment. How good it was to share a good joke with good men.

  “So you’ve decided to join Alpha Cholera?” Shylock continued. “Friend, you did right. You’ll never regret it. There’s nothing like a good fraternity, and Alpha Cholera is the best, isn’t it, Roger?”

  “Yes,” Roger admitted.

  “Yes sir. You can’t beat a good fraternity. Good fellows living together in a good house, sharing each other’s problems, making contacts that are going to be their most precious possessions in later life. But I don’t have to tell you about the advantages. Anyone looking at you can tell that you know what the score is.”

  I blushed becomingly.

  Shylock leaned closer and put his hand on my knee. “The surprising thing,” he said, “is how reasonable Alpha Cholera is. I mean, looking at it intelligently. You and I know that in this world you don’t get something for nothing; the best thing you can hope for is to get a lot of a little. And that’s what you get when you join Alpha Cholera.

  “Take dues, for instance. We charge $100 a month. I’ll admit that $100 is a tidy sum. But remember, if you were going to take a suite in a hotel downtown while you went to school you’d pay a lot more. And besides, you’d be living alone. You wouldn’t have all these swell kids to live with and share your problems. Furthermore, $100 a month dues keeps out the riffraff. You can be sure that you’re living with the best people at Alpha Cholera.

  “Now then, there’s meals. Breakfast—$1.75. Lunch—$2.50. Dinner—$4.00. Now you know as well as I do that you can’t pay too much for a good meal, attractively served in pleasant suroundings. How about that, Roger?”

  “Yes,” said Roger.

  “And laundry. You just throw your dirty clothes down the chute, and the next time you see them, they’re spick-and-span, all ready to wear. None of that wet-wash stuff here. No sir. And all for $12.50 a week.

  “Then there’s national dues; Alpha Cholera isn’t one of your dinky one-chapter houses. Not on your life. You’ll find an Alpha Cholera house on every major campus in the country. And that’s important. Whenever you visit another college, you don’t have to pay four or five dollars a night for a hotel room. You just go to the Alpha Cholera house and they’ll put you up without charging you a cent. National dues are $40 a month.

  “And that’s it, friend. That’s every red cent you’ll pay for being an Alpha Cholera, except naturally $5.00 a month for the telephone, a qu
arter a day for hot water, and $300 for your handsome zircon Alpha Cholera pin. Of course there’ll be special events from time to time, but we won’t worry about those now, will we?”

  “No,” said Roger.

  “Now that you know all the facts about Alpha Cholera, are you ready to make your decision?” Shylock asked. “We want you to go into this thing with your eyes open. This is the most important step you have ever taken in your life, and we don’t want you to regret it. We want you to want to join Alpha Cholera; otherwise we don’t want you. The decision is entirely up to you. We have acquainted you with the facts, and that is all we can do. Now, you take your time and think it over. We’ll give you ninety seconds.”

  I knew it was an important decision, and I took the full allotted time. As they twisted my arms, I mentally weighed the considerations in the case. There was only one answer I could reasonably, honestly, and conscientiously give.

  “I’ll pledge,” I said.

  We shook hands silently all around, not trusting ourselves to speak.

  “Shy,” said Roger, after we had choked back our tears, “you tell him about the pledge period while I get everything ready for the ceremony.” He left.

  “Now,” said Shylock, “you are going to be pledged in just a few minutes. For six months after that you are going to be a pledge. Then you get initiated and become what is called an active. During your pledge period you are sort of a little brother to the actives. You come to us with your problems and we give you advice about whatever you want to know. We choose your clothes and your girls for you. You just let us actives worry about everything.”

  I nuzzled against his sleeve. “There, there,” he said quietly.

  “All ready,” called a voice from down the hall, and I left with Shylock for the pledging ceremony. (The ritual that followed is very secret, and I must ask the reader to keep the ensuing account in strictest confidence.)