Read Last Days of Summer Page 2


  More realistically touting the busher as “the new Roger Bresnahan,” Giants manager Bill Terry speculates that Banks will be worked into the lineup during tomorrow’s opener at the Polo Grounds, eventually splitting third base with current sacker Mel Ott who, on hearing the news, reportedly groaned, “I can’t wait.”

  In a related story, the Brooklyn Dodgers denied that they had expressed any interest in acquiring the rookie first, despite earlier reports that indicated they were determined to keep the Giants from getting their

  * * *

  1940

  * * *

  Juvenile Detention Center of the

  Borough of Brooklyn

  To: Capt. E. LaFontaine

  From: Sgt. F. Kahane

  Subject: The Margolis Kid

  1. He won’t eat dinner. Says he wants brisket on rye bread. We tried to fool him with roast lamb, only it didn’t work.

  2. Claims to be suffering from a variety of ailments that mandate his immediate release. These include appendicitis, heart attack, diphtheria, polio and gonorrhoea (which he pronounced correctly). Actually, we think he has a slight fever—this has been regulated with Bayer aspirin and orange juice.

  3. Still hasn’t identified the boys who attacked him, and won’t even admit that it happened. Says he was run over by a vegetable truck. Judging by the severity of the beating, we’re pretty sure the Bierman brat was involved, but we have no way of corroborating without the kid’s help.

  4. The mother and the aunt were notified and have been waiting in reception since 3:30 this afternoon. We believe it would be inadvisable to let them see Joseph for several days, or at least until his facial lacerations have healed somewhat. Both are apparently unaware of the repeated assaults on the boy; on such occasions, he’s told them that he fell off his bicycle. Note: Mrs. Gettinger (the aunt) has now determined the religious affiliations of all receiving personnel and will only speak to Sgt. Greenberg.

  5. We have telephoned the father several times at his residence in Manhattan. The housekeeper advised that she had given him the message, but as yet we have not heard from him.

  6. We asked the kid if he wanted to tell us why he did what he did, and were informed, “You bulls can’t keep me in this creep joint forever. Not unless you want your lamps put out.” Considering that he’s only twelve, we felt it polite to treat the threat with the same sort of respect it’s accorded in the movies; as such, Lt. Frierson (who sounds more like Edward G. Robinson than anyone else on staff) warned him, “Yeah? Well, if you don’t start singing, you’re going up the river.” It didn’t work. All he did was bribe us with the Maltese Falcon.

  7. We’ve contacted Don Weston in Psychology, who’s interviewing the kid in the morning. In the meantime, I’d be careful about drinking the water.

  * * *

  I Must Not Pee in the Reservoir

  BY JOEY MARGOLIS

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not support Fascist Spain.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  I must not pee in the reservoir.

  INTERVIEWER: Donald M. Weston, Ph.D.

  SUBJECT: Joseph Charles Margolis

  Q: What happened to your face?

  A: Jack Dempsey knocked me out in three rounds. It was in all the newspapers.

  Q: You don’t trust me, do you?

  A: Nope.

  Q: You want some candy?

  A: No.

  Q: You want a drink o
f water?

  A: No.

  Q: You want a cigarette?

  A: I’m twelve. Almost. On June 8th.

  Q: Lots of kids your age smoke cigarettes.

  A: Not me. How about a brandy instead?

  Q: I don’t have any.

  A: That figures.

  Q: Does your mother smoke?

  A: No. But she can drive.

  Q: How about your father?

  A: He’s an aviator. He built the Spirit of St. Louis with Lindbergh and the Curtiss Robin with Wrong Way Corrigan, and sometimes he takes me flying over the—

  Q: Your father owns a textile plant.

  A: Right. I forgot.

  Q: Do you like your father?

  A: Yes.

  Q: Why?

  A: Don’t know.

  Q: How come he wouldn’t have lunch with you?

  A: I think he had to talk to some people about nylon in his office. And Nana Bert always says he’s not there at home.

  Q: Who’s Nana Bert?

  A: His wife. They live on Fifth Avenue.

  Q: Does that bother you?

  A: Not much, I guess.

  Q: What did you do when they told you he wasn’t coming?

  A: I ordered a shrimp cocktail and a steak. The maitre d’ is Kenny and he calls me boychik. He went to the yeshiva with my Dad. And he always lets me say things like “Put it on my tab.”

  Q: Then you urinated in the reservoir?

  A: Not yet. First I clipped a goldfish from the five and dime. I ate it.

  Q: How much of this are you making up?

  A: All of it. How come?

  Q: Joey, do you think maybe you got into trouble so you’d get caught and they’d call your father?

  A: You mean negative attention?

  Q: Uh—yes.

  A: Wouldn’t work. Even the police couldn’t get him to come over.

  Q: You don’t think so?

  A: Nope. Nylon. But he’s taking me to the World’s Fair. He promised.

  Q: What happened to your face?

  A: Bank holdup. I want to be like Jimmy Cagney in Each Dawn I Die. “Stay out of my way, copper.”

  Q: Do you really?

  A: No, but stuff like that scares the heck out of you guys.

  Q: What about your mother?

  A: She boils my underpants.

  Q: I beg your pardon?

  A: You heard me. On the stove. Aunt Carrie almost ate a sock once.

  Q: Do you like her?

  A: Aunt Carrie?

  Q: Your mother.

  A: I love her. A lot.

  Q: She says you don’t get along too well at school.

  A: That’s because Mrs. Hicks had a nervous breakdown. I gave it to her by accident.

  Q: How?

  A: I found the sacrifice fly rule in the Bill of Rights. She didn’t believe me, but I proved it. Then they took her to the hospital.

  Q: Do you mind if I show you some pictures?

  A: No.

  Q: All right. Now what do you see?

  A: A Rorschach blot.

  Q: Joey—

  A: Okay, okay. Center field at the Polo Grounds. This is the bleachers and that’s the ball that Charlie Banks hit into them on April 10th. He’s the only one who ever did that. Even DiMaggio in the ’36 Series couldn’t. Only Charlie.

  Q: You sound pretty proud.

  A: I am.

  Q: What happened to your face?

  A: My head got caught in a mechanical rice picker.

  Q: Take a look at this one. What do you see?

  A: Third base. That’s where Charlie lives. Over here is right field, and this is the plate. You know what happened there on April 19th?

  Q: Charlie Banks hit three home runs.

  A: How did you know that?

  Q: Doesn’t everybody?

  A: Not in Brooklyn. I hate Brooklyn.

  Q: I don’t blame you.

  A: You don’t?

  Q: Who cut you up like that? Was it Lenny Bierman?

  A: He called me a kike first. I told him Charlie Banks was my best friend, but he didn’t believe me.

  Q: How come?

  A: I was lying.

  Q: Let’s try another one.

  Q: Okay, what do you see?

  A: What do you see?

  Q: Uh—I think it’s the Polo Grounds again. Right?

  A: Are you humoring me?

  Q: No. Why?

  A: Because it’s a sideways map of Wisconsin. This is Racine where he was born.

  Q: Charlie Banks?

  A: You bet.

  Q: It wasn’t just Bierman, was it? Joey?

  A: No. Delvecchi too.

  Q: What are you going to do about it?

  A: Don’t know yet.

  * * *

  Mr. Charles Banks, NY Giant

  c/o Third Base

  The Polo Grounds

  Coogans Bluff, NY

  Dear Mr. Banks,

  I am a 12 year old boy and I am dying of an incurable disease. It is a horrible one. I have had to spend most of my life in hospitals and in bed with high fevers and very white skin. This is because I have no more corpusles, which you may remember is what provides you with antibodies. I am also paralized. Sometimes I am racked by so much pain that I cry out in the night and say things like “Dear God. Dear God.”

  The reason I am writing is because I read in a magazene once where Babe Ruth visited a dying boy in a hospital, and although he provided him with an autograph which he had asked for, what the boy really wanted was for the Babe to hit one out for him. Well he did, and the Lukemia went away like that. You do not have to come and visit me, but I would appreciate it if you would hit one out. All you have to do is point to left field or wherever makes you comfortable and then say “This is for my friend Joey Margolis” (on the radio if possible) and then swing.

  I hope you can do this soon because I don’t think I will be around much longer.

  Your friend,

  Joey Margolis

  * * *

  * * *

  Mr. Joseph Margolis

  236 Montgomery Street

  Brooklyn, New York

  Dear Friend:

  Many thanks for your letter and the kind words contained therein. I am enclosing my picture with the autograph you requested.

  Keep on slugging.

  Best wishes,

  Charles Banks

  * * *

  * * *

  Mr. Charles Banks, NY Giant

  c/o Third Base

  The Polo Grounds

  Coogans Bluff, NY

  Dear Mr. Banks,

  I am a 12 year old boy and I am blind. This is a terrible thing. But I was not always blind. In the old days I used to be able to swim in the creek and build log cabins and greet each day like it was a new adventure, the way boys have done since the dawn of time. Then one day my eyes started to fill up with mucus and the sunshine went away forever.

  The reason I am writing is because I read in this magazene where Lou Gehrig once visited this blind boy in a hospital and promised he would hit one out for him. And when he did, that boy (who had been listening on the radio) was heard to cry out “I can see! I can see!”

  Mr. Banks, it would do me alot of good if you would hit one out for me the way Iron Horse did that other time. I would not even ask you to make a special trip to the plate for it. You can pick one you were going to hit out anyway and just say ahead of time (on the radio) “This is for my friend Joey Margolis.”

  I must stop writing now. It is so very very dark.

  Thank you.

  Your friend,

  Joey Margolis

  * * *

  * * *

  Mr. Joseph Margolis

  236 Montgomery Street

  Brooklyn, New York

  Dear Friend:

  Many thanks for your letter and the kind words contained therein. I am enclosing my picture with the autograph you requested.

  Keep on slugging.

  Best wishes,


  Charles Banks

  * * *

  INTERVIEWER: Donald M. Weston, Ph.D.

  SUBJECT: Joseph Charles Margolis

  Q: You didn’t think it was going to work, did you?

  A: I was just warming up. This is a tough one. If I only knew where he lived.

  Q: Is that a new cut over your eye?

  A: Don’t remember.

  Q: How did it happen?

  A: I fell in front of the “A” train. Can we look at some more baseball pictures?

  Q: Sure.

  Q: What do you see?

  A: A midget lying on his back with a hard-on.

  Q: Where did you learn to talk like that?

  A: “The Street, see? That’s where I grew up. The Street. Now they’re gunna make me swing for it.” Guess what? I live upstairs from the Green Hornet. He thinks I’m the Shadow. We send messages in code up and down the fire escape on heat-resistant string like in Gangbusters.

  Q: How come?

  A: Nazis take no prisoners.

  Q: That sounds pretty serious.

  A: You bet it is. Know that old lady who owns the clock store on Sullivan Street?

  Q: Mrs. Aubaugh?

  A: Don’t turn your back on her. She’s a saboteur.

  Q: She has a wooden leg!

  A: That’s where she keeps the grenades. I tried to send a warning to the Hornet, but the string broke and it fell through the bars onto a German courier. Now they’re wise to us.

  Q: Tell me about the inkblot.

  A: It’s the flag pole.

  Q: Where?

  A: Over the Giants clubhouse in deep center. Me and Charlie always stand next to each other with our hats over our hearts when they play The Baseball Song.

  Q: “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”?

  A: “O Say Can You See.”