“Faster Johnny, faster!” screamed Jessie, as the wicker baby carriage flew down the bumpy sidewalk of Cherry Hill. Johnny ran alongside, holding on for dear life to the slim wooden handle at the rear of the carriage, as Jessie screamed in delight.
“If we go any faster we’ll die!” exclaimed Johnny, his black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. Jessie sat in the carriage, arms and legs sticking out from the sides, the wind pushing back her fine blond hair. Meanwhile, the intended occupant of the carriage, baby Tony, lay on the ground at the top of the hill, cradled by the roots of a large maple tree. He was currently fascinated by the play of light and shadow among the leaves, blissfully unaware of the drama taking place on the sidewalks below.
At last Johnny regained control of the carriage. It was small and made of wicker and wood; its wheels made of thin spindles of metal and were not up to the wear and tear it was currently being subjected to. But it had held together for this ride, which was certainly not the first.
“That was so fun!” swooned Jessie, “that’s the most fun ever! I went so fast! Did you see how fast I went?”
“C’mon, we gotta get Tony,” said Johnny, and they started the long walk up Cherry Hill to reclaim their baby brother.
They walked close together, Johnny pulling the carriage. Both children were scrawny, but clean. Fourteen year old Johnny’s pants were much too short, his worn leather oxfords two sizes too big. Six year old Jessie fared a little better, wearing a light floral print of a flour sack dress of pale pink roses. Her shoes were a size too small, in fact so small she elected to take them off, putting them in the carriage for the walk back home.
“Sure wish I could ride the bike,” mentioned Jessie as they retrieved baby Tony and put him into the carriage.
“Yeah, it’ll be awhile,” said Johnny, “you’ll just have to grow.”
The family of nine had one old bicycle in their possession, scavenged from the county dump, and cobbled together with rubber and wire. However functional, it was a large, heavy bike of the time, tall and made of Pennsylvania steel, its pedals way beyond Jessie’s reach.
“Keep watching at the dump,” reminded Johnny. “We’ll come up with something.” But the kind of bike Jessie wanted would not be found at the dump. She wanted a bright red one, like the one she had seen in the thick department store catalog her sister had made Jessie paper dolls from. They knew that a bike like that would never be found at the dump. They turned the corner and started up another hill toward home.
Home was a 1904 two story clapboard house at the edge of town, with a small worn wooden porch. The house sat cantilevered at an angle of the steep street, somehow defying gravity by existing each day. It was the current center of the nine lives that dwelled inside, as long as the rent stayed low.
Johnny parked the baby carriage. Jessie carrying baby Tony, both entered the frenzy of the kitchen. The black iron cookstove was fully stoked, adding more heat to the already warm house. A large pot simmered, the unmistakable scent of cabbage filling the air. Dinner would be Haluski, a thick soup of cabbage, onions, and dumplings of flour.
“You’d better go down and get the coal,” stated Johnny’s mother. “There’s just enough time before dinner.”
“What about Jimmy?” said Johnny.
“He’s down helping Mr. Hornick at his store, you’ll do as you’re told. Alright, now everybody out, Johnny out, all yous out, this is my kitchen!” she commanded.
Johnny went outside to retrieve the coal wagon. It was a sturdy wooden cart built by his father. Each day the oldest boy available pulled the wagon to the railroad siding a short walk from home to pick up the coal that had fallen off the passing train’s coal car. The scavenged coal provided heat for the drafty house.
Johnny made the trip easily. Although thin, he was strong and fast. He picked all the coal he could find, filling the wagon. Returning home he met brother Jimmy in the backyard. “Sure, now you get back, after I’ve done your work,” Johnny remarked, unhooking the back panel of the wagon, dumping the coal into the box at the rear of the house.
“Couldn’t be helped, duty called!” grinned Jimmy, flashing a thin dime. “Mr. Hornick had a load of flour in and needed my muscle,” he said, flexing a scrawny bicep for Johnny to admire.
Johnny slapped at the skinny arm and they raced into the house.
They sat down at the large wooden table. Ma served the cabbage stew from the stove into mismatched bowls. Daddy sat at the head. “Mr. Kruger dumped his cabbage harvest into the ravine today,” he said. “Couldn’t get his price so he dumped them. Every single last one.”
“What a waste,” said Ma, shaking her head, “it’s a sin, that’s what it is. A sin.”
“Well, they’re his cabbages. He can do what he wants with them.” said Daddy.
Johnny took note. A whole harvest of cabbage! There in the ravine, ready for the taking. He bet he could sell some in town, at least the ones off the top. He could make money, maybe enough to help Jessie get a bike. A bike just her size, he could see her face now, riding the bike up and down the hills of town. He could hardly eat his dinner.
“Too bad we can’t get some of those cabbages,” said Johnny casually. “The ravine’s not that far,” he added.
“You stay away from there,” said Daddy sternly. “Kruger won’t take kindly to anyone stealing his cabbages, even though he’s dumped them. That’s none of your business.”
After dinner Johnny cornered Jimmy in the backyard. “Do you think Mr. Hornick would buy those cabbages, the ones Kruger dumped in the ravine?”
“Sure,” replied Jimmy, “Hornick’ll buy anything.”
“O.K,” continued Johnny, “Daddy’s got a union meeting tonight, Ma’s at mass. While they’re gone we take the coal wagon over there and get a load. I can hide ’em in the shed and sell them to Mr. Hornick tomorrow. There’s bound to be loads of them that aren’t damaged yet, the ones on the top of the pile. What do ya say?”
“I say you’re crazy,” said Jimmy. “For one, Daddy’ll kill you if he finds out, two, Mr. Kruger will kill you if he catches you. And three, I don’t care how much you need the money, it’s not worth it. You better just hang around Hornick’s store and make some money there.”
“It’s not for me, you dope, it’s for Jessie! She really needs a bike, a little one. She’ll be an old lady by the time she gets one and by then she won’t even be able to ride it!”
“No thanks, count me out,” said Jimmy, “I’d like to live long enough to get out of high school,” and he went back into the house.
Undaunted, Johnny went ahead with his plan. He got some gunny sacks out of the shed to protect the cabbages and keep them clean from the coal dust in the wagon. Then he went inside to wait for his parents to leave.
They seemed to take forever. First the kitchen had to be cleaned, and Daddy got cleaned up in the tub in the basement. It was almost dusk before his parents were gone. The younger kids were fast asleep in bed and his older sisters were upstairs doing homework. Johnny slipped out and grabbed the coal wagon, heading straight for Kruger’s farm. It was all uphill, but that was good because it would be all downhill when he had the wagon loaded with the cabbages. He made good time, parking the wagon in the woods, just a few yards from the ravine. He could just make out the lumpy silhouettes of the cabbages. He looked around carefully. There was no one in sight.
Just as he was about to leave the safety of the woods, he stopped in terror. For rising up in the dark from behind the pile of cabbages was a man, a very tall man. It was his father. He held some gunny sacks in his left hand, a cabbage in his right, and looked at Johnny with disbelief. “What in the devil are you doing here!” he whispered fiercely, “you get yourself home, now!”
Then Johnny saw a yellow flash of flame back beyond his father, from far on the other side of the ravine. Johnny took a step, but tripped, sprawling on the ground. The back of his head and neck peppered by flakes of tree bark blasted away by a shotgun. A muted boom echoed through the ravine. Silence.
Johnny raised his head, just in time to see his father sink to his knees to the soft dark ground.
“Daddy!” Johnny cried, rushing out from behind the trees to his father. He helped him to his feet, half dragging him to the safety of the dark quiet wood.
Johnny grabbed the wagon handle and turned it away from the ravine. He expected to hear another shot, feel the pellets in his own back, but the wood was silent. Daddy turned to sit on the wagon’s edge, his legs dangling off the back. Johnny worked his way slowly down the hill, bracing his feet to hold back the weight of his father. The moon came out, giving them some light, helping Johnny to guide the wagon between the trees.
Once home, Johnny helped his father inside and into his chair at the kitchen table. Jimmy came in and turned white at the sight of his father hunched in his seat.
“Run to St. Al’s and get Ma,” Johnny commanded. “Daddy’s hurt.” Jimmy ran out the back door, not caring if the screen door slammed hard behind him.
“Your Ma’ll need hot water,” said Daddy, wincing at the words.
Johnny got kindling out of the wood box.
“What were you thinking?” Daddy finally asked.
Johnny concentrated on building up the fire. “I was going to get a load of cabbages to sell to Mr. Hornick,” he said. “It’s for Jessie. She never asks for anything. Just this once I’d like her to have something nice. She really wants a bike and she’s such a great kid, it just kills me that I can’t get her one.” He blew softly into the stove, coaxing fire from the ashes. “Do you have any idea how that feels?” he asked, speaking partly to his father, partly to the flame. The kindling sparked and the flames grew taller. Johnny added more wood, then turned towards his father.
“Oh,” he said softly, the realization sinking in as he saw his father’s face. “I guess you do.”
Jessie wandered into the kitchen, half asleep. “I’m thirsty,” she declared to Johnny, who broke the gaze with his father to get her a drink. Her eyes grew wide at seeing Daddy hunched over the table. The kitchen door swung open, Jimmy rushed in with Ma close behind. She leaned for a moment against the doorjamb with relief at seeing Daddy. Then she took a step forward and examined his bloodied back.
“Alright, Jessie out, Jimmy out, Johnny out!” she commanded, reaching for her apron. “All of yous out. This is my kitchen!”