John Fitzgerald GB 06 Return of (12 page)

We all held up our hands except Tom.

“What more proof do you want?” Parley .asked.

“I don’t care what you fellows think,” Greg said. “Some day you will look at a girl and what happened to me will happen to you.”

He walked over and picked up his bike.

“Just a minute,” Tom said. “My great brain has figured out that girls put a spell on fellows with their giggling. Will you try an experiment and stuff cotton in your ears when you’re near Sally Anne so you can’t hear her giggling?”

“I will not,” Greg said. “And what’s more I’m calling on Sally Anne tomorrow night to sit on the front porch sying with her.”

We all crowded around Tom after Greg left. Danny was the first to speak.

“I guess you haven’t got such a great brain after all,” he

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said. “It only made things worse. Why didn’t you use your fists instead of your brain? Why didn’t you call Greg a sissy and fight him? You know darn well you can whip him. And maybe if you beat him up good it would have knocked some sense into him and broken the spell.”

“I thought about it,” Tom said. “But I didn’t want to fight him for the same reason Parley didn’t. Well, not exactly. Greg isn’t insane. But he is bewitched, which is just as bad.”

“Well,” Danny said, “you had better put your great brain to work on how to save Greg. Tomorrow night he will be sitting on the front porch swing with Sally Anne. At the rate he is going he’ll be married and have kids before he is old enough to shave.”

Parley had a puzzled look on his face. “What do a boy and girl do when they sit on a front porch swing?” he asked.

“How should I know?” Tom asked.

“I thought your great brain knew everything,” Parley said. “And besides I saw your brother Sweyn sitting on the front porch swing with Marie Vinson before he went away to school.”

“I never asked Sweyn what he did,” Tom said. “But you’ve given me an idea. I’ll find out tomorrow night what Greg and Sally Anne do sitting on a front porch swing. Maybe that will give me a clue on how to break the spell.”

Frankie and I had to go to bed at eight o’clock. Tom was twelve and allowed to stay up until nine o’clock. But Sunday evening he told Papa and Mamma he felt tired and went upstairs with Frankie and me.

“What’s the idea?” I asked him as we entered our bedroom.

“Forget already?” Tom asked.

“Forget what?” I asked.

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“Yeah, what?” Frankie said.

“I promised the fellows I’d find out what Greg and Sally Anne did on a front porch swing,” Tom said.

I watched him take the screen off our bedroom win-dow. “I’m going too,” I said.

“Why?” Tom asked.

“Maybe you’ll need a witness,” I said.

“All right,” Tom said. “Frankie, you go to bed. If it isn’t too awful for a boy your age to hear we will tell you about it when we get back.”

Tom and I climbed down the elm tree by our bedroom window. Our dogs Brownie and Prince came running to greet us. We locked them up in the barn so they couldn’t follow us. We went down the alley until we were in back of the Carver home. They didn’t have a dog so it was safe to enter the backyard. We walked around to the side of the house the porch swing was on. Then we got down on our hands and knees and crawled to the side of-the porch which was about two feet off the ground. I could hear the porch swing creaking. Tom lifted up his head to take a look and so did I. Greg was sitting on one end of the porch swing and Sally Anne at the other end-1 admit that I didn’t know what a boy and girl did on a front porch swing, but I’d always imagined they did mushy things like holding hands, hugging, squeezing, and even kissing. But Greg and Sally Anne sure as heck couldn’t do any of these things sitting three feet apart. All I heard for a long time was the creaking of the swing-I began to wonder if boys and girls just sat on porch swings without talking to each other. Finally Sally Anne spoke.

“Did you say something?” she asked.

“No,” Greg answered. “Did you say something?”

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“No,” Sally Anne said. “I thought you said something.”

“No,” Greg said. “I didn’t say anything.”

I sure as heck couldn’t understand why a boy and girl would want to sit on a front porch swing and ask each other if they said something when they knew darn well they didn’t. A few minutes passed and then Greg really did say something.

“Know how to make one word out of a new door?” he asked.

“No,” Sally Anne answered. “How do you make one word out of a new door?”

“You take the first o from door,” Greg said, “and the n and e from new and what does that spell?”

“One,” Sally Anne answered.

“Then you take the w left in new,” Greg said, “and the o and r and d left in door. And what does that spell?”

“Word,” Sally Anne said.

“And that is how you make one word out of a new door,” Greg said.

“That is clever,” Sally Anne said.

I heard Tom grunt with disgust. I didn’t blame him. It just goes to prove how dumb girls are. I knew that riddle when I was Frankie’s age. Again there was no sound except for the creaking of the porch swing. Then a neighbor’s dog barked.

“Did you say something?” Sally Anne asked.

Again they went through that did you say something, no, I didn’t say anything, did you say something, business. And I couldn’t help thinking that only a girl would think a bark-ing dog sounded like a human being. Nothing but silence then for what seemed a long time. Finally Greg spoke.

“Want to play a word game?” he asked.

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“I’d love to,” Sally Anne said.

“I learned it at school in Provo last year,” Greg said. “I’ll name a city or state in the United States. Then you have to name one that begins with the letter the one I name ends with. Ready? Arizona, a state.”

“I see,” Sally Anne said. “Now I have to name one that begins with the letter A. Alabama, a state.”

“Arkansas, a state,” Greg said. “Now you must start with the letter s.”

“San Francisco, a city in California,” Sally Anne said.

“Ends wfth an o,” Greg said- “Oregon, a state.”

“Ends with an n,” Sally Anne said. “Let me think. Oh. Nevada, a state.”

“Another a,” Greg said. “I think I’ll give you one back. Augusta, capital of Maine.”

Sally Anne laughed. “And I’ll return the favor,” she said. “Atlanta, capital of Georgia.”

“I’m running out of a’s,” Greg said. “No, wait a second. “Albany, capital of New York.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Give up?” Greg asked. “If you do that means you go down one point and can use the next letter of the alphabet which would be 2-And if you fail on z that puts you down two points and you go back to the beginning of the alphabet and use a.”

“Begins with a y,” Sally said. “Wait just a minute. The Revolutionary War. Got it. Yorktown, Virginia.”

“Begins with an n,” Greg said. “New Orleans, a city in Louisiana.”

“Begins with an s,” Sally said. “Oh, Salt Lake City, the capital of Utah. Now let me see you find a city or state that begins with a y.”

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I don’t know if Greg found one or not. Tom touched me on the shoulder. We crawled backwards to the side of the house and then stood up and stretched our aching muscles.

“Boy, oh, boy,” I said when we reached the alley where we could talk. “Why would any boy rather sit on a front porch swing doing that instead of staying home and playing checkers or dominoes or some other good game?”

“That, J-D.,” Tom said, “is something even my great brain can’t figure out.”

“Then you didn’t get any kind of a clue that could help you break the spell?” I asked.

“The only clue I got,” Tom said, “is that Greg might fail all other subjects in school but he ought to get an A in geography.”

The next morning Danny, Parley, Seth, and some other fellows were waiting in front of our house when we left for school. They crowded around Tom wanting to know what he found out-

“You won’t believe this fellows,” Tom said, “but it is the God’s truth and J.D. is my witness. We sneaked over to Sally Anne’s front porch last night to listen to her and Greg. First they kept asking each other if they said something when they knew darn well neither one of them had said anything.”

Parley pushed his coonskin cap to the back of his head. “That’s silly,” he said.

“It gets sillier,” Tom said. “Then Greg told a stale old riddle and Sally Anne didn’t know the answer. At least she pretended not to know. Then they began playing a word game to practice up on their geography. They were still playing it when we left.”

I’d never seen such disappointed looks on the fellows’

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faces. J guess they had been expecting to hear about holding hands, and hugging, and squeezing, and even kissing like I

had.

Danny asked, “Is that all?”

“That is all,” Tom said. “The only conclusion my great brain can come to is that when a girl casts a spell on a fellow, it makes both of them plumb soft in the head. My father calls it puppy love. There is nothing my great brain can do to

break the spell.”

It was the first time Tom’s great brain had failed him, which only goes to prove how powerful the giggling of a girl can be. It not only hypnotizes a fellow but makes him a girl’s slave. Greg began carrying Sally Anne’s books home from school and followed her around like a little puppy dog follows his master. I guess that is why they call it puppy love. The only good thing was that Greg began getting good

grades.

I did learn one valuable lesson out of it all. Sweyn had

been thirteen when Marie Vinson put a spell on him with her giggling. Greg was thirteen when Sally Anne put her spell on him with her giggling. When I became thirteen I would buy myself a pair of ear plugs. And every time I got near enough to a girl to hear her giggling I’d stick those ear plugs in my ears so I couldn’t hear. I’d show them I wasn’t hiding in the cellar when the brains were passed out. They would never get me under their spell with their giggling.

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TOM’S FAILURE TO BREAK the spell Sally had put on Greg gave the fellows an opportunity to start belittling his great brain. They never passed up a chance to rub salt in Tom’s wounds over it. I knew that if they kept it up Tom would put his great brain to work on how to get even with them. And sure enough on Saturday afternoon it happened. We were taking a rest after playing basketball in the alley behind our coal and wood shed.

Danny Forester winked at some of the fellows so Tom couldn’t see him doing it.

“I wonder what happened to Tom’s great brain,” he said. “He couldn’t break Sally Anne’s spell on poor Greg.”

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Seth Smith nodded. “Maybe his great brain just shriv-eled up and died,” he said.

Parley pushed his coonskin cap to the back of his head. “Could be,” he said. “But maybe he never had a great brain in the first place.”

Tom was sitting right there listening. “All right, fellows,” he said. “That is enough.”

Danny’s left eyelid flipped open. “Can’t blame us for being curious,” he said. “You’ve been bragging for years about your great brain. Then along comes a girl and makes a fool out of you and your great brain.”

Seth snapped his fingers. “Which just goes to prove,” he said, “that if anybody in Adenville has a great brain it is Sally Anne Carver.”

Tom stood up. “See you later,” he said. “I’m going up to my loft.”

I watched Tom walk toward our barn. “Now you fellows have done it,” I said. “Tom is going up to his loft to put his brain to work on how to get even with you with one of his swindles.”

Danny shook his head. “No, he won’t,” he said, “because Tom knows if he pulls off just one crooked deal no kid in town will have anything to do with him.”

We continued playing basketball until it was chore time. I called up to Tom to come down and help with the evening chores.

“Did your great brain figure out how to get even with the fellows?” I asked.

“Not yet,” he said. “But it will. They will rue the day they made fun of my great brain.”

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Tom’s great brain didn’t come up with a plan until Monday afternoon after school I had to fix a tire puncture on my bike. After I finished I used the hand pump to pump up the tire. Then I figured as long as I had the bike upside down on the seat and handlebars I might as well oil it. 1 oiled the sprocket, the chain, and both wheels. Then I spun the wheels around to lubricate them. Tom and Frankie were sitting on the back porch steps watching me.

“Got it!” Tom said as he suddenly jumped to his feet. “The wheel of fortune.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“Yeah, what?” Frankie said.

“It is a wheel with numbers on it,” Tom said, “and each number wins a prize. You weren’t living with us then, Frankie, but J.D. remembers the year they let a carnival come here for the County Fair. One of the booths was the wheel of fortune.”

“I remember,” I said. “I also remember so many people complained the games were crooked, the county commission-ers barred any more carnivals from the County Fairs. The only good thing about it was the merry-go-round.”

“I’ll need a wheel,” Tom said as his face became thought-ful.

I finished oiling my bike. “Maybe you could use an old bike wheel,” I said.

“No,” Tom said. “It has to be made of wood.” He snapped his fingers. “Got it! Mamma never uses that old spinning wheel of Grandma’s in the attic.”

I went into the house with him. Mamma was busy in the kitchen with Aunt Bertha.

“Mamma,” Tom said, “can I have that old spinning wheel of Grandma’s in the attic?”

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Mamma looked up from some biscuit dough she was kneading. “What in the world do you want it for?” she asked.

“To make a wheel of fortune,” Tom said- “You know, like the wheel of fortune they had at the carnival that time.”

“I also know,” Mamma said, “that your father, your uncle Mark, and the mayor decided all the games of chance at the carnival were fixed so nobody won any prizes most of the time, and when they did, it was something very cheap. That is why no carnival has been allowed here since.”