The Middle Moffat (12 page)

"I know what," said Jane. "I'm just going over there and get my skates, broke or not."

Dead silence greeted this.

Of course that's what they would all like to do, just march over there and get their skates and their watches. But ... well, next to the oldest inhabitant, Wallie Bangs was probably the most important person in Cranbury. Who would have the nerve to march over there and into his backyard and take his skates?

Jane did.

She lowered herself off the high board fence. Not into Wallie's yard. Into her own yard. For she was going to attack from the front. The children watched her disappear around the Moffats' little house in silence. They watched through the grapevines for her to appear in Wallie Bangs's backyard.

"There she is!" cried Nancy Stokes excitedly.

Yes! There she was! Jane was marching around Wallie Bangs's house. She did feel scared. But after all, they were her skates. Supposing Mama was fixing a dress for Miss Buckle, and Mama took the dress all apart and just wouldn't put it together again. Of course Miss Buckle could come and take her pieces of dress back home with her any time she wanted to. Take shoes, too. If the shoemaker kept Janey's shoes there in the shoe shop without fixing them, she could go in and get them. They were her shoes. And these were her skates. All the same she did feel scared inside. After all, this wasn't Mama or the shoemaker. This was the mechanical wizard!

She marched into Wallie Bangs's yard now. She saw the children on the fence bent over and watching her through the grapevines. She waved to them but only out of braggadocio, for she really was scared. Thank goodness the cellar doors were open. Of course, Wallie kept them open so he could get in and out quickly with his batteries and his pieces of wire and springs.

Right now Wallie didn't seem to see Jane at all. He kept pulling plugs and valves and making the engine roar. All the same, just as she was about to step down the cellar steps, he said:

"Anything mechanical ... just bring 'em over..."

"I'm goin' to get my skates," cried Jane, and she darted down the cellar.

But goodness! How was she ever going to find hers among all these dismantled parts? She looked about in despair. Her nice new ball-bearin' skates! Where were they? One pile under the set tub looked new and shiny. Maybe these were hers. She picked up one of the wheels and a grimy piece of paper fluttered out. "J. the m.m." it said. Hurrah! These were her skates. She gathered them up and ran out.

"No foolishness now," said Wallie Bangs without looking to the left or the right.

Jane ran home while the children on the back fence cheered.

"Come on," they yelled. "Let's get our skates! Janey got hers!"

"It's easy," said Jane. "I'll show you. Just follow me."

They all marched into Wallie Bangs's backyard. They approached cautiously, retreating to the fence whenever Wallie shifted his position, but then advancing again when he settled back to work. He really did not appear to be aware of their presence. Once, however, when they were right up to the cellar stairs, Wallie Bangs dropped his battery and came marching over in their direction. They fled to the honeysuckle bush, ready to dart through it if necessary. But Wallie was paying no attention to them. All he wanted apparently was a little piece of wire from the cellar.

"Anything mechanical ... just bring 'em over," he said, bending over his motorcycle again. The children all came back. This time they rushed into the cellar. Soon they were all running out with armfuls of wheels, straps, and other skate parts.

"Wallie Bangs, we got our skates," they yelled.

Wallie did not answer.
Putt! Putt!
He made his engine roar.
After all,
thought Jane,
he might be right in the middle of fixing his motorcycle once and for all at this very minute. Why should he pay attention to skate parts?

Clara Pringle ran down to Pleasant Street spreading the news.

"Come on," she yelled. "Everybody get their skates!"

And children began gathering from Pleasant Street, Elm Street, and even Second Avenue, because good news of this sort quickly spread. They crawled through the honeysuckle bush from the Moffats' yard and ducked into Wallie Bangs's cellar like rabbits doing down a rabbit hole. Then,

blinking, out they came with skates, watches, and clocks. They quickly made their getaway, for no one knew how Wallie Bangs was going to take this insurrection.

The way he took it was just to make his engine roar.

When finally all the children had left, Joey helped Jane fit her skates together. She certainly was glad she had made Wallie write "J. the m.m." on hers. Some boys and girls had had to be content with just one or two wheels. All of a sudden Wallie appeared on his side of the honeysuckle bush.

"Skates need a little fixin'?" he asked.

Jane and Joey hastily retreated to their little square porch.

"No, thanks," said Jane politely. After all, he still was the mechanical genius even after the events of the day.

Wallie Bangs never did get around to putting Miss Buckle's washing machine together, and after a few weeks of sending her laundry to the family wet wash she called in the handyman, and soon things were running smoothly in her household again.

As for Mr. Price's earphones, he said, "Oh, let 'em go. I'll be glad to wait until the boy fixes his motorcycle. Earphones can wait."

"You're lucky," said Mrs. Price, stuffing her ears with cotton after a particularly loud bang from Wallie's backyard.

Sometimes Jane wondered if Wallie's feelings had been hurt by everybody going and getting their skates. She finally decided that this was not so. His mind was on his motorcycle. He had no time for skates. And he always asked her, when she was skating on his white sidewalk, just as though nothing had ever happened:

"Skates need a little fixin'? Just bring 'em over ... anything mechanical..."

Rufus wanted a pony. In this he was no different from every other small boy. Every Christmas Rufus asked Santa Claus for one. In his letters to Santa Claus, a pony always topped the list. Oh, of course, he used to ask for other things, too, a bicycle, a top, an engine, toy soldiers, a jackknife, but the pony was what he wanted more than anything else in the world. He tried in his letters to point this out to Santa Claus. For instance, in one letter he put a gold star by the word
pony.
In another he wrote
pony
in red crayon. Still, Santa Claus didn't seem to catch on, and he never brought a pony. He brought other fine things, pea blowers, horns, drums, and Rufus was grateful for them, but they didn't answer that longing he had inside
for
a pony.

How did he get it into his head he wanted a pony? Well, one day a couple of years ago, when the Moffats were living in the yellow house on New Dollar Street, a man had come along leading a black-and-white pony. You could have your picture taken sitting on its back for ten cents. Mama said Rufus should have one taken. She would frame it and put it on the mantel. So the man picked Rufus up and set him on the pony's back and took his picture. Then the man let Rufus ride the pony as far as Hughie Pudge's house. There, however, he had to get down and let Hughie Pudge get up, for he was going to have his picture taken, too. Ever since that time when he had felt real pony flesh between his legs, Rufus had wanted a pony just terribly.

Last Christmas, Santa Claus had brought him a brown felt pony on wheels, all right for very small children perhaps, but certainly not the thing for him. After this experience Rufus decided he'd better add the word
ALIVE
after
pony.

This Christmas, Mama said to the children, "Do not ask Santa Claus for too much this year, because, you know, there is a terrible war going on in Europe and Santa Claus will need an extra large amount of things for the Belgian children." So one evening, after the supper dishes had been cleared away, Jane and Rufus took pencil and paper to the kitchen table, pushed back the red-checked tablecloth, and wrote their letters to Santa Claus.

Jane wrote:

Dear Santy Claus,
Please bring me
Two-storied pencil box
Flexible Flyer sled
Box of paints
Princess and Curdie.

Then she stopped for a moment. She would like to say, "Please don't bring any material for a dress or anything to wear, or for practical's sake." But perhaps Santa Claus would not think that was polite, so she signed,

With love,
Jane Moffat

She looked over at Rufus's letter. "Have you finished?" she asked.

"Not quite," he answered. His tongue was between his teeth and he was working very hard.

Jane watched him curiously for he was no longer writing but was drawing something on his letter with brown crayon.

"How many things you ask for?" he demanded presently.

"Four," said Jane.

"Four!" repeated Rufus. "I only ast for one," he announced with satisfaction.

When he finally laid down his crayon, he held his letter up and surveyed it approvingly.