CHAPTER XIII
CHANGES
IT was a blue Monday. In fact, it was the bluest Monday that Johnnie hadever spent in the flat. The urge of unrest was upon him. He had been outonce, and far into the great world. And, oh, _how_ he yearned to go outagain! And just wander up Broadway to Fifth Avenue, the morning sun onhis back, and the wind in his hair, while he gave more strangers anopportunity to do those pleasant and generous things which it seemed theprivilege of strangers to do. A second trip, and there was no tellingbut that he might come back to the flat fairly bowed under a load ofthings!
He took a peep at his books; but he could not settle down to read. Andhe was able to get through with a hasty trip to Chickamauga by forcinghimself to be patient with Grandpa. Also, that morning was a bad one formillionaires. He called up none of the four. If a millionaire hadchanced by and offered to adopt him, Johnnie would have said a flat No.Cowboys! Rivals, these were, of the famous quartette. And the momentGrandpa was asleep, Johnnie got on the telephone, called up one of thelarger stores, and ordered a complete cowboy outfit--from hat to spurs.And having received his order with lightning rapidity, he put it on atonce, and began to stride to and fro, gesturing and talking bad grammarin his best possible imitation of One-Eye. He ended this fascinatinggame by trying to pinch his eye in the door.
Naturally the door led to the idea of taking a walk.
And the walk made him think of the dog. He had seen a handsome dog whilehe was riding in the truck--a black dog with a brown spot over each eye.At once he determined to have one like it. "Here! Boof! Boof!" hecalled. And the dog came to him across the kitchen, wagging a bushytail, and was warmly greeted, and fed. A fine, shining dog collar wasthen ordered and presented, after which Johnnie made a hasty toilet bysplashing his face with his well hand and drying it on the cup towel,and the two started off.
There was no fire in the stove, and Johnnie told himself that there wasnothing to worry about in leaving Grandpa behind for a little while.Without haste, this time, and without even a thought of Big Tom, Johnniesallied forth, the dog at his side.
He had no misgivings as to the treatment he would receive from the boysof the neighborhood. The question of his social standing had beensettled. He even got ready to whistle a tune, so that if any boy's backwas turned, and there was danger of Johnnie's not being seen, he couldcall attention to himself--he, the intimate friend of a real cowboy.
But every one saw him. That was because he took his time. On the otherhand, he saw no one; but paid the closest attention to signs, andwindows, to carts, and the contents of shops, and he halted to pet anoccasional horse, or to shy a bit of brick at a water plug. Thus hetraveled the four sides of his block. Whenever he met boys, they weretoo impressed to be saucy. He sauntered past them, his hands in his bigpockets, his chin in the air.
"Well, y' see how it is," he observed to Boof as they turned homeward.And he swaggered.
Back in his area, he found a small gathering--several children, a fewwomen, and one old man. He blushed out of sheer happiness, believingthem to be drawn up to see the Friend of a Cowboy pass in. And heclimbed the stairs, whistling as he went, and smiling to himself in thedusk of the poorly lighted halls.
Entering the flat, he found One-Eye. At first he could not trust hiseyes, for his new dog had followed in, and was wagging a black tail, andhe could see the dog as plainly as he could see his friend. But notingthat Grandpa was playing with a red apple, he knew that the cowboy wasreally there.
So that was why there had been a crowd in the area!
But he did not rush to One-Eye. For some reason or other his feet werestone, and he felt shame--and guilt. He said a low-spoken Hello!
There was no warmth in One-Eye's greeting, either. "Knocked," informedthe Westerner. "Got no answer. Then I heard the ole gent kinda whinin',and so I come in." While he talked, that single green eye was peeringout of the kitchen window. The tanned face wore a curious, stern look.
"Yes, sir," said Johnnie, swallowing. "He always is like that if I goout t' walk a little." His heart was sorer than ever. He felt helpless,and forlorn. A wall had risen between himself and his wonderful friend.And he wished that One-Eye would burst out at him as Barber would havedone, and give him a piece of his mind--oh, anything but this manner sopolite yet so full of cool displeasure!
However, One-Eye had a second apple, which he presented to Johnnie, andthis helped to clear the air. And the latter, hoping to win backOne-Eye's good opinion, wiped off a table knife, halved the apple, andscraped it, giving the juicy scrapings to the toothless old soldier.
At once One-Eye became less absent-minded. "Wal, how's the arm?" heasked. "The boys tole me t' shore find out."
"Oh, it hurts a little," declared Johnnie, "but I don't mind. Say, how'sthe cross horse?" One half of the apple scraped, Johnnie ate the redshell of it. "And have y' been to the rest'rant again? And I s'pose allthem white-dressed men and ladies, they can eat all they want to ofev'ry kind of de-_licious_ things!"
One-Eye 'lowed they could. That lone orb of his was roving about theflat as if he was looking for some one. And presently, clearing histhroat, "The young lady, she don't seem t' be at home," he observed,with studied carelessness.
"Not till six," reminded Johnnie. "She works."
It was then that One-Eye drew from a pocket under those furry trousers athird, and a mammoth, apple. "Wal, when she comes," he suggested, "y'might jes' give her this."
"Oh, gee!" cried Johnnie. It was the largest apple he had ever seen."She'll like it. And she thinks you're grand!"
This proved to be such a master stroke of diplomacy as Johnnie had notimagined. One-Eye glowed under the compliment, and went various shadesof red, and blew smoke from his cigar furiously. Now the last trace ofhardness went from the weathered countenance, the drooping mustachelifted to show toothy gaps, and even the marble of that eye softened."Now, say!" exclaimed the cowboy. "Y' ain't stringin' me, are y'? Shesaid that? Wal, this world is a shore funny place! Right funny! Jes'recent I paid a lady here in town six-bits t' read the trails in myhands. And she tole me, 'Y're going t' meet a high-toned gal.' Andnow----!"
He said no more after that, only smoked, and stared at Johnnie's skypatch, and twiddled a spurred boot. The cigar finished, he rose andshook hands solemnly, first with Grandpa, who giggled like a delightedchild; then with a somewhat subdued Johnnie.
"My!" breathed the latter as the clump, clump of the spurred boots diedaway on the stairs. He felt more regret and sorrow over being foundlacking by One-Eye than ever he had felt over a similar discovery madeby Big Tom. He realized that he would do more to win just the smile ofthe one than he would to miss the punishment of the other. And there wasa sting in his little interior, as if some one had thrust a needle intohim, and left a sore spot; or as if he had swallowed a crust or acodfish bone, and it had lodged somewhere.
He gave over thinking about wearing a cattleman's outfit, and began oncemore to turn his thoughts inward upon the flat. He sought out _Aladdin_from the precious pile of books and opened it at the page he had beenreading when One-Eye's voice had fallen for the first time upon hisears. And at once he was again living with the Chinese boy that story ofstories.
The day sped. Whenever Grandpa interrupted him, Johnnie would go to lookat Cis's apple. He would take it up, and turn it, and smell it. Helooked at it affectionately, remembering who had bought it, had had itin his hands, and carried it. It brought that dear one close.
"Good One-Eye!" murmured Johnnie, and first making certain that evenGrandpa was not watching, he laid the apple against one of his palecheeks. Somehow it comforted him. He pictured Cis's surprise and joywhen, having been told to shut her eyes and put out her hands, she wouldsee the crimson-skinned gift.
About this he received a cruel shock. For when Cis came slipping in,with an anxious look around, as if she feared Johnnie might not bethere, and had gone through the--to her--annoying preliminary of shuteyes and outstretched palms, there was plain disappointment on her faceas she sa
w what Johnnie had to give her. And when he told her whose giftit was, far from changing her attitude, and showing the pride heexpected, what she did was to burst into peals of laughter!
It was like a slap in the face. He stared at her, not able to comprehendhow she could belittle a present from such a source. And all at once hefelt himself more in sympathy with Big Tom than he did with her, for BigTom at least held One-Eye in high honor, and considered his visit to theflat a compliment.
Now she added insult to injury. "What a funny thing to give a girl!" shecried. Then daintily taking a whiff of the fruit, "But then it'll scentup my box fine." She went to tuck it among her belongings.
Not a word of gratitude! And she was crossness itself when, her dresschanged, she sallied forth to set to work on the wash. That this taskhad something to do with her lack of sweet temper never occurred toJohnnie, whose opinion of girls had received another setback. As hewatched her drag forward the tub and fall to rubbing, he half-way madeup his mind to wait his chance, take the apple out of that old box, andeat it! He sat at the window, counting the stars as they came into hisrectangle of faded blue, and was glad that he now had a dog. A girlaround the house was so unsatisfactory!
Next day, with Cis's wash swinging overhead in a long, white line, hefinished _Aladdin_ and took up _Robinson Crusoe_. And with the new bookthere opened to him still another life. Swiftly the palaces of Cathaymelted away. And Johnnie, in company with several fighting men, waspacing the deck of a storm-tossed ship, with a savage-infested shore tolee. Gun in hand, he peered across the waves to a spit of sand uponwhich black devils danced.
By nightfall, what with fast reading, and by skipping many a paragraphwhich was pure description, the oilcloth table was a lonely islandinhabited by no human being, the morris chair was the good shipstranded, with all on board lost except Crusoe and Johnnie, who, whilethe seas dashed over them, roaring, breathlessly salvaged for theirfuture use (Johnnie's hurt arm was out of its sling all this time) themixed contents of the kitchen cupboard.
Big Tom interrupted this saving of provender. And Crusoe's friend wascurtly ordered to wash some potatoes for supper, and lay the plates, andnot leave everything for Cis to do. The order was accompanied by thatwarning flash of white in Barber's left eye. It brought to an endJohnnie's period of convalescence.
That night he did more pondering as he lay on his mattress beside thecookstove, his eyes looking far away to the three stars framed by thewindow sash, and the dog asleep at his side. He had always done muchthinking, being compelled to it by loneliness. Now he took stock ofhimself, and came to the conclusion that he was not like other boys.
Being the only blond-haired boy in the area building had something to dowith it. Having to do housework had more. Then he had none of thepossessions which the other boys of his own age treasured--bats, andballs, "scooters," roller skates, yes, even water pistols.
Being different from other boys, he could not, he decided, do as theydid. They had freedom: he was shut in. Once he had thought that thisshut-in condition was due to the strange views of Big Tom. But now, allat once, he realized that One-Eye agreed with the longshoreman. So didthe Chinese tailor, Mustapha!
He made up his mind that hereafter he would stay close to home.
He spent nearly the whole of the next day most contentedly with RobinsonCrusoe. It was ironing day, but when he had finished the small pieces,Mrs. Kukor took the rest upstairs. Then Johnnie, dressed from head totoe in peltry, moored at his elbow that lonely isle. And for him thewrecked ship gave up the last of its stores, cannibals danced, beaconswere lighted, stockades built, and there swept in upon that East Sidekitchen a breeze that was off the Southern Seas.
Shortly after the evening meal a night or two later, One-Eye knocked,finding Johnnie up to his elbows in the dishpan, while Barber smoked andCis dried the supper plates. The cowboy seemed much embarrassed just atfirst, and avoided Cis's smiling look as she thanked him for the apple.Her little speech over, however, he soon warmed into quite a jovialmood.
"Jes' had t' see sonny, here, t'night," he declared. "Y' know it's soseldom a feller meets up with a kid that's worth botherin' about. Nowthis one strikes me as a first-class boy"--praise that instantly andcompletely wiped out that hurt somewhere in Johnnie's interior.
One-Eye had not come empty-handed. He had cigars for Big Tom, a paperbag of pears for every one, and a carefully wrapped box tied withglistening string which turned out to be candy. As a chorus of delightgreeted all these gifts, he became by turns the leathery saffron which,for him, was paleness, and the dark reddish-purple that made onlookersalways believe that he was holding his breath. "Aw, shucks!" he cried tothe thanks. "It ain't nuthin'. Don't mention it. It's all right. _Eat!_"
Then happened the almost unbelievable: Big Tom, who never made visitorswelcome, and never wasted kerosene, actually lifted down the lamp andlighted it, and would not hear of One-Eye's taking an early departure.The cowboy's importance was making him welcome; also, his gifts. Forgreed was the keynote of Barber's character. The latter haw-hawed ateverything One-Eye said. And Johnnie gazed in amazement at the unusualspectacle of Big Tom's face wrinkled by laughter.
He talked about himself. He had been moving barrels all day; doingprodigious things. Furman had all but fallen dead when he surveyed whatthat one pair of hands had accomplished. "And he bet me I couldn't takeup two barrels at a time," he boasted. Then pushing out his cheeks, "Butsay! It was duck-soup!"
"Barrels of duck-soup?" One-Eye wanted to know. And the kitchenresounded with such unwonted laughter that a window or two went upoutside, to right or left, some neighbor thinking a row was under way.
Hearing the noise, Barber stalked to his own window, flung it high,leaned out, and glared about. The other windows went down then, and BigTom slammed his own shut, begrudging any family in the building thesound of One-Eye's voice. "That Gamboni!" he growled. "Can't mind hisbusiness t' save his life! But you bet he didn't open his mouth when heseen me lookin'! No, sir! They all shut up their sass when they spyyours truly! Ha-ha-a-a-a! I could break 'em in two!"
Johnnie felt a chill travel down his spine. He compared One-Eye to hisfoster father again. Oh, what would have happened if these two had notmet on friendly terms? had on his account come to blows? How would ithave fared with the cowboy in the grasp of those hands which weresteel-constructed?
"Y' look consider'ble strong," admitted One-Eye, rolling the greenmarble the length of Barber appraisingly. "But I ain't such a slouchmyself. Can throw my steer yet, slick as that!" Which was going far forOne-Eye in the boasting line.
He came to the flat often after that--and never again found Johnnieaway, though occasionally Big Tom was. He always brought cigars for thelongshoreman, and fruit or candy, or both, for the others. He never hada great deal to say, but being something more than a common man, hewould dry dishes if there were dishes to dry, or help split kindling forthe morning fire; and once he scrubbed the sink.
If he said little, nevertheless he inspired others to talk. For somereason he was anxious to get from Johnnie the story of the boy's pastlife, which was not so complete as One-Eye would have liked, sinceJohnnie had forgotten the surname of his Aunt Sophie. He remembered heras a tall woman with big teeth and too much chin who wore plaid-ginghamwrappers and pinched his nose when she applied a handkerchief to him.
He remembered Aunt Sophie's living rooms above the rich man'sgarage--rooms warm, clean, and brightly lighted, with pictures, andcrisp curtains, and a thick, rose-patterned rug in the parlor. In herkitchen was a great cookstove called "The Black Diamond," which seemedlike some live thing, for it had four claw-shaped feet, and sevenisinglass eyes ranged in a blazing row upon a flat face. Under the eyeswere toothlike bars forming a grate. These seemed always to be grinninghotly. Often when the stove was fed with the ebony lumps that AuntSophie said it loved, its burning breath was delicious. Then Johnnie'saunt, half doubled above it, drew out of it rich, brown roasts, and piesthat oozed nectar; or ladled up fragrant soups and golden dough
nuts.
Johnnie described how grandly he had lived at Aunt Sophie's. He hadslept in soft, white night clothes. Always, when he waked, Aunt Sophiehad pulled him out of these and dropped him into a big tub of warmwater, then rubbed him pink with a large, shaggy towel. Sometimes UncleAlbert took him for a run in one of the millionaire's huge, glisteningcars.
His last memory of the garage had to do with the clanging ambulancethat took Aunt Sophie to the hospital. Johnnie never saw her again, forshe died there; and it was after her death that Tom Barber clambered upthe straight, steep flight of stairs that led from the street door. Whenhe went down it, Johnnie was with him, clinging to one of Big Tom'sthumbs.
"Then I reckon Mister Barber's a relative," said One-Eye.
"Only by marriage," declared Cis. She was certain of that.
"But why'd he bother takin' a kid that is no relation?" persisted theWesterner.
Cis smiled wisely. "Work," she answered laconically.
One-Eye understood. "And who was the rich gent?" he asked.
Johnnie could not remember the name. "But once," he told proudly, "heleft a' orange for me, and I used it like a ball till the skin busted."
"Y' know what street that was on, don't y'?" inquired the cowboy.
Yes, Johnnie knew that. The street was West Fifty-fifth.
"And what about your mother?" One-Eye wanted to know.
"Well, I had one--once," declared Johnnie. "I'm sure of that. And she'sdead." Also at one time he had possessed a father, who was dead, too."My father and my mother," he informed the cowboy, "died the same day."
That single eye opened wide at this news. "The same day?" One-Eyedemanded.
"Drownded," said Johnnie. Though how and where he could not tell, anddid not even know his father's name, which Cis felt sure was not Smith.
"I thought as much!" remarked their visitor, wisely. "And what about_your_ Paw and Maw?" he inquired of Cis, who knew names and dates andfacts about her parents, but was completely in the dark as to thewhereabouts of any living kinspeople. She had lived in a flat in thenext block till her father died. When her mother married Tom Barber, shehad moved out of her birthplace and into the area building. And that wasall there was to tell, except that her own full name was Narcissa AmyWay.
"Cute!" declared One-Eye, going a beet-red.
"Have _you_ got a mother?" asked Cis.
"Both dead," answered One-Eye, knowing that the two would understandwhat he meant.
"Three orphans," returned Cis. The blue eyes misted, and the pointed,pink chin quivered. And the others knew what _she_ meant.
Indeed, at the sight of her brimming eyes One-Eye felt so keenly that,without warning, he put his head back in a most surprising fashion,opened his mouth, shut that one eye, and broke into a strange plaint.The others concluded that One-Eye was making a curious, hoarse noiseceilingward for some reason. Presently, however, Cis made out that thenoise was a tune: a tune weird but soul-stirring. Music, as Cis couldsee, was One-Eye's medium of expressing his emotions. And then and thereit became her firm conviction that he was bearing a great and secretsorrow.
It was Johnnie who first learned the words of the tune. And when hecould repeat them to Cis, both realized how appropriate they had beenunder the circumstances, for they ran:
"Oh, blame me not for weepin', Oh, blame me not, I say! For I have a' angel mother, Ten thousand miles away!"
Having got to the end of a verse, One-Eye sat up, smiled feebly, darteda bashful glance at Cis, and went on with his questions. "What was UncleAlbert's name?" he wanted to know.
But as Johnnie could not remember Aunt Sophie's name, naturally enoughhe could not remember his Uncle Albert's, both names being one and thesame. His Uncle was a figure that this small nephew had greatlyadmired--straight, be-capped like a soldier, and soldierly, too, in hissmart, dark livery.
"They's somethin' mysterious about the hull proposition!" pronouncedOne-Eye.
That night when One-Eye was about to leave, he asked Cis what he mightbuy her for Christmas. Cis was shy about answering, and declared that heneed not buy her anything: he had bought her so much candy, and that wasenough--more than enough. But One-Eye pressed the question. "Aw, namesomethin'!" he pleaded. "Can't y' think of a pritty that y'd likeawful?"
Cis thought. And having taken some time to turn the suggestion over,while One-Eye watched her, and Johnnie mentally made up a long list ofpossible gifts, "I'd like very much," she faltered, "if I could have anice doll."
What was there about the request that seemed to stagger One-Eye? Lookingat him, Johnnie saw that big Adam's-apple move convulsively, while thegreen eye swam, and the lantern jaw fell. "A--a doll?" the cowboyrepeated feebly.
Cis knew that somehow she had said the wrong thing, and hastened to easethe situation. "Oh, just a teeny, weeny one," she compromised. "You see,Mr. One-Eye, I've never had but one, and I thought before I got _too_big--because I've seen small dolls that were so sweet!--and I--andI----"
But there she stopped, blushing painfully. To cover her embarrassment,she dashed into her closet room and brought out Letitia, ragged dressand all, as if the sight of the poor beloved would speak for her moreeloquently than she could for herself.
Which proved to be the case. For One-Eye stared at Letitia till thatsingle eye fairly bored through her sawdust frame. Next he took her upand turned her about, his lips shut tight. His mustache stood up, hegulped, and his hand trembled.
Then suddenly he rose. "Got t' go," he announced.
He went. He forgot to shake hands. He pulled the big hat far down acrosshis forehead. He stubbed his toe on the doorsill.
Cis and Johnnie hung out of the window a long time after, talking lowtogether, so as not to be overheard by the Gambonis, for the earlyDecember night was surprisingly warm, and the building had all itswindows up. They speculated upon One-Eye's conduct. Johnnie wasdistressed--and on two scores: first, that One-Eye should have gone soabruptly; second, that Cis, when given a chance to ask for something,had not named a gift worth having, such as another book.
"But you've got more books now than you've had time to read!" sheprotested. "And anyhow One-Eye is sure to give you a Christmas present."She was not cast down, but smiled at the sky, and talked of the newdoll, which she intended to name--Edwarda.
"Should think you'd name her after One-Eye," went on Johnnie; "long'she's givin' her to you."
"_How_ could I name her after him?" she retorted. "What would I callher?--Two-Eyes? I'm not going to spoil her by giving her a crazy name."Eager to have her dreams to herself, she forsook the window for her ownroom, and shut the door.
The next morning, while Johnnie and Grandpa were returning from thefield of Gettysburg, here, ascending from the area came the shrillvoice of the Italian janitress: "Johnnie Smith! Johnnie Smith!"
That meant the postman. And the postman was an event, for he came notoftener than once in three months, this to fetch a long, officialenvelope that had to do with Grandpa's pension. But the pension was notdue again for several weeks. So what did the postman have to leave?
Bursting with curiosity, excitement and importance, Johnnie very nearlybroke his neck between his own door and the brick pave. And here was aletter addressed to himself: Johnnie Smith, in Mr. Thos. Barber's flat.Then the street and the number, the whole having been written on atypewriter.
"Why--! Why--! Who can it be from?" Johnnie muttered, turning the letterover and over, while heads popped out of windows, and sundry small frygathered about Johnnie and the postman.
"Maybe you'd find out if you opened it," suggested the latter, who wascurious himself.
Johnnie opened; and drew forth a single large page, white and neat, whenit was unfolded. Upon it was written a short, polite note which read:
"_Dear Johnnie, I'm going away for a few days. Cannot tell just when Ishall be back. Take care of yourself. Yours very respectfully,--_" HereOne-Eye had signed his name.
The signature was hard to make out. Not only because
it was badlywritten but because there was something the matter with Johnnie's eyes."One-Eye's goin' away," he told the postman, not ashamed of the tears hewiped on the back of a hand. "Oh, my goodness!" He climbed the stairswith his square little chin on his breast.
Cis made him feel worse when she came home. Because instead of beingequally cast down, she was full of criticism. "My! One-Eye never wrotethat!" she declared. "A stenographer fixed that all up for him. Sure asyou live."
This was too much. Johnnie jerked the letter out of her hand. He caughtup Letitia by one dwindling arm and cast her headforemost into Cis'sroom. And there is no telling what else might not have happened if, atthat moment, the janitress had not begun to call again, though this timeit was Cis she wanted. And what she had for Cis was a heavy pasteboardbox that was nearly as long as the table. In the box, wearing a trulygorgeous dress and hat and shoes, was--Edwarda.
"A Princess of a doll!" cried Cis, dancing with happiness.
Later on, when she had put Edwarda to bed for at least the tenth time,she came to comfort Johnnie. "Never mind," she said, "he'll be back. Andwhile he's gone, you can play he's here." Then with a far-away look inher blue eyes, "What would _I_ do if I didn't pretend _HE_ was here!"
Johnnie groaned. The idea of her bringing up the Prince in the face ofsuch grief as his! It made him sick. He pinned the letter inside hisshirt. He dragged out the mattress and flung himself down. He would notlet her light the lamp. He yearned for the dark, where he could hide histears.
Oh, everything was swept away! Everything!
And even the dog, crowding close against him comfortingly, could notlessen his pain.