Rufus M. (19 page)

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Authors: Eleanor Estes

Tags: #Newbery Honor, #Ages 8 & Up

BOOK: Rufus M.
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"Jolly!" he muttered. "What's jolly about her!"

As for Rufus, he neither liked nor disliked her. However, if he saw her today, he hoped she would stay over on the other side of the pond. He wasn't scared of her, but it was too gloomy a day to meet Jolly Olga. Certainly since he was the only person down here in the Great White Way, if Jolly Olga saw him she'd probably want to shake hands. Who else could she shake hands with? Not the men who were running things. She was there just for the children. Besides, the men were busy outshouting one another with their cries.

"Step right up, ladies and gen'lemen. Guess your weight!" said one.

And the man at the high-striker cried, "Ring the bell and win a big cee-gar! Ring the bell and win a big cee-gar!"

"Step right up, folks, and win a ba-bee doll!" chirped the man in the duck-shooting pavilion. They were not real ducks. They were made of clay.

And the saltwater taffy man kept on making taffy, and the tall, thin man who was running the merry-go-round seized a dark red megaphone and bellowed through this every few seconds, "Step right up, folks. Five cents a ride!"

They all shouted and yelled and tried to drown out one another. Just practicing, thought Rufus, since there weren't any folks around. Just him. Do you suppose they were all shouting at him? He didn't have any money. Rufus turned his pockets inside out except for the one he kept his important things in, like his postcard from A1 and the empty Bull Durham tobacco pouch. One look at his empty pockets and they could tell that he didn't have any money. Nevertheless, Rufus did feel a little embarrassed. People who came to the Great White Way were supposed to ride things or at least buy a box of Cracker Jacks. Well, he wouldn't stay long. He'd just get a little nearer to the flying horses, get a good look at Jimmy with the red rubies, and then he'd go home.

He rode closer to the merry-go-round. There was Jimmy! Rufus watched him gallop into view every time he came around those fake trees in the middle. What a horse! It seemed to Rufus Jimmy's big, soft, purple eyes saw him every time he came into sight; and as though Jimmy were laughing, he was so pleased to see him. He was the only horse Rufus ever rode. When Mama said he could have a ride on the merry-go-round, he always waited for Jimmy. If someone else got on Jimmy first, Rufus wouldn't ride that time. Not until he was free. Sometimes the Moffats had to wait for Rufus a long, long time until he was able to mount Jimmy. They didn't mind, though. They liked to sit on the round bench at the edge of the merry-go-round and watch the horses and listen to the music.

"See him?" said Rufus excitedly to the cardboard boy every time Jimmy broke into sight.

"Step right up, folks!" yelled the man with the megaphone so loud Rufus couldn't help jumping.

"...And win a ba-bee doll!" yelled somebody else.

"...And win a beeg cee-gar!" from somebody else.

"...Ladies and gen'lemen..."

They all yelled hard. Probably they figured that the louder they yelled the more likely they'd be to produce customers right out of space. Unless they were still yelling at Rufus. He pulled his pockets as inside out as he could make them, even the one with his important things. They might think he had money in that.

"There," he muttered. "I'm here just to look at Jimmy. Nothing else."

Jimmy was so beautiful that, gloomy day or not, he looked as though he were sailing right over clouds. He really was sailing through clouds of mist. Rufus had been watching the flying horses so closely, dreaming about Jimmy, he hadn't noticed how thick the mist was getting. But all of a sudden he realized that he couldn't see the top of the high-striker anymore. If Jolly Olga came along now, he imagined you couldn't see her head.

"Guess we better go," he said to the cardboard boy. But just as he was about to leave, somebody shouted, "Hey, kid, do you want a ride?"

It was a man with the megaphone. He was talking to Rufus.

"I haven't any money," Rufus replied.

"You can have a ride for nothing," said the man. "Maybe it'll bring some business, break our bad luck for the day."

"What about my bike?" asked Rufus.

"The ticket lady will watch it," said the man.

So Rufus wheeled his bike over to the ticket booth, where the lady in a pink blouse said she'd mind it. Rufus picked up the cardboard boy and when the flying horses stopped he stepped on. He put the biscuit boy in one of the sit-down coaches drawn by two swans for, of course, the biscuit boy could not ride a horse. And he himself mounted Jimmy. The man strapped him on. Rufus did not like this as it interfered with his trying for the gold ring.

Rufus never had had so many rides on the flying horses before in all his life. One or, at the most, two rides were all he ever got. Now he rode and rode, around and around, and on and on. Jimmy ... Rufus thought of Jimmy fondly and he patted his mane. He had red rubies on his harness, too. Jimmy was the only horse in this merry-go-round that had his name right on him. He was truly a remarkable horse.

All of a sudden Rufus realized that he had had enough rides on the merry-go-round.

"Hey!" he yelled. "I want to get off." He was getting so dizzy he could no longer see the gold ring, and the lady in the pink blouse was just a blur. But the music began again and the horses galloped on.

The next time the music reached the end of its tune, Rufus hollered again. "Hey, mister, I have to go home now."

But the long thin man with the megaphone paid no attention to Rufus. Either he did not hear Rufus or he pretended not to, in order to keep his one customer. Rufus looked back at the cardboard boy. He had slid into a half-reclining position in his chariot, but he was still cheerfully offering a cracker.

"Bet you're tired, too," said Rufus.

Now the air looked very strange. Great clouds of vapor were puffing in from the water. Rufus yelled lustily and he tried to unfasten the heavy iron buckle of the strap himself. He began to bawl, in fact. Well, a boy who is bawling is not good for the trade, either. That is what the long man must have thought, for he came winding in and out of the flying horses until he reached Rufus, and he unstrapped him. As the music came to a stop the man lowered Rufus to the floor. Rufus gave Jimmy a last pat. "Good-bye," he said. Then he grabbed his cardboard boy out of the swans' chariot, and jumped off before the music could begin again and carry them around and around some more. He had had enough of going around. His knees felt wobbly and his eyes crossed.

"Thanks for the rides," he said to the man with the megaphone as he passed him on his way out of the pavilion. Rufus got his bicycle, and when his legs stopped shaking he pedaled slowly away with the cardboard boy once more perched safely on the back axle.

This was a real fog blowing in off the water, and Rufus realized it was high time he started for home. But there was just one more thing he wanted to see before he left Plum Beach.

"You want to see the boat that goes to Silver Sands?" he asked the cardboard boy. "And that's all," he warned him.

Right next to the merry-go-round was a long wooden pier from the end of which little white boats put off every half hour for an island called Silver Sands. If Rufus were lucky he might see one come in, see the captain put down the gangplank with a thud; or watch one leave, churning up the water between it and the round posts that supported the pier. As he rode over the wooden planks they made a gulping sound. And between the wide boards, Rufus caught a glimpse of the dark green water lapping against the posts, all covered with barnacles and seaweed.

These glimpses of the world beneath the pier sent shivers up and down Rufus's spine. He pedaled very slowly and he stayed right in the very middle of the pier. Foghorns and boat whistles, some pitched high and some low, sounded their sudden warnings.

"Don't be scared," he said to the biscuit boy.

Rufus paused. He looked ahead. He did want to see the boat, but the fog was getting thicker and thicker. What was the use of going way out there to the end of the pier? You couldn't even see the lighthouse on the breakwater. You couldn't see anything. A nearby buoy tolled its melancholy bell and Rufus stopped short.

"All right, fellow," he said to his cardboard companion. "We'll go home now, if you'd rather. This is getting gloomy."

Rufus turned around in the tiniest possible area. He started pedaling back to land. Even on land the fog was very dense now. The flying horses were still going around but Rufus could hardly see them anymore, and he could not distinguish Jimmy from any other horse. The Ferris wheel had stopped and Rufus could only see the bottom seats. He hoped the lady who was knitting had not been left up in the air. None of the men was shouting anymore. They had succumbed to the weather and had given up. It was quiet except for the forlorn music of the flying horses and for the steady blowing of the foghorns.

"It's just a fog," explained Rufus to his companion. "Everything is just the same, only you can't see it. That's all. Hang on. Don't be scared."

Rufus steered carefully straight ahead between the salt-water taffy stand and the Indian wampum stand and he rode on toward the gate that led out of the Great White Way.

There was one thing that Rufus was really happy about. And that was that he had not seen Jolly Olga. He wasn't scared of Jolly Olga, but who would want to see her on a day like this? Not Rufus! All the same he said to the biscuit boy just to make conversation, "Sorry you didn't see Jolly Olga, the big lady," and presto! Just as he said this, presto! There she was! Jolly Olga! Walking through the fog right toward him! Rufus stopped. He hoped she would not bump into him. He could just barely see her head, just the shadowy outline of it way up there in the fog.

Rufus crowded as close as possible to the soft-shell-crab counter. Goodness, how big Jolly Olga looked in this fog! She was so big she took up all the space. How was Rufus going to get past her and go home? She stopped in front of the soft-shell-crab stand, and she stayed there, hemming him in. At last Rufus rang his bell. Jolly Olga or no, he had to go home.

"Hey!" he yelled. He didn't know whether to yell, "Hey, mister!" or "Hey, lady!" He just said, "Hey!"

But the minute he yelled, Jolly Olga set her head to bobbing in her own inimitable manner and she bowed to Rufus and waved her hand. Jolly Olga never said anything. Just

bobbed her head, shook hands, and appeared in unexpected places. That's all she ever did. That's what she did now, and then she disappeared in the fog. But Rufus saw the man inside. He was eating a soft-shell-crab sandwich.

"A fake," Rufus explained to his companion. "He eats. Who you like best, Jimmy or Jolly Olga?" he asked. "Jimmy," he answered his own question, as he steered his bike down the slope under the archway with the wan lights overhead that spelled the Great White Way.

The last thing he heard as he left the desolate amusement park was the faint music of the merry-go-round. "Good-bye, Jimmy," he said, and he headed for home.

"Don't be scared," he said to the cardboard boy. "It's just one straight road home."

It's true it was spooky and gloomy riding in this fog. Usually Rufus knew right where he was. When he smelled coffee, he knew he was passing the A & P. He recognized the odor of the steam from the Chinese laundry and the leathery smell from the shoemaker's shop. But sometimes he really could not tell where he was and then he would take the postcard from the soldier named A1 out of his pocket, hold it in his hand, and ride on, not quite so scared. Or at these times he would reach in his pocket for his empty Bull Durham tobacco pouch.

"Here, fellow," and his right hand gave the pouch to his left hand. "Put this in your pocket." And he remembered the day the iceman gave it to him. "If you get scared, you can smell this tobacco," he said to his cardboard friend.

Gradually as he rode farther and farther away from Plum Beach, the music of the merry-go-round grew fainter and fainter. Then he didn't hear it at all.

Once the cardboard boy fell off. At first Rufus did not miss him, and when he did he wondered whether he should go back for him in all this fog. But, of course, he couldn't leave him behind, so back he turned. Fortunately he didn't have to go far before he found him. Rufus stopped and picked him up.

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