Just You Wait,
You Miserable Stinker
by Jan F.
Drewniak and Don Drewniak
This
is the third excerpt from The
Junk Picker, published in
2012.
Setting:
The Berkshires in Massachusetts during the Great
Depression.
The
characters in this episode:
Pinball (Pinball
Johnny) — My father, Jan F. Drewniak, who
was nineteen-years old and was in the process of
rebuilding a large house and making a near one-mile
lane passable from the nearest road. The house
and a large barn were owned by the man for whom
he had worked in a machine shop in Brooklyn for
the two previous years.
Sparks —
The nearest neighbor who was a friendly rival and
sometimes foil.
Mrs. Sparks
— Sparks’ wife.
Helen and
Sherman – Vacationers who had lost their way
in the Berkshires.
Wilson —
The owner of the largest country store/hardware
in the area. He was the man to whom most area
residents sought out for the latest gossip.
* * * * *
I came out of
the barn a few minutes before ten and headed for
the truck when a movement near the lane caught my
eye. “Well, I’ll be,” I thought to
myself, “now where in the world did that
horse come from?”
It was
nibbling on some grass and didn’t move away
as I began to approach it. Cautiously grabbing
hold of a rope which was tied around its neck, I
began to pat it. By the looks of it, the horse
was an old-timer. I then led it over to the edge
of the garden, tied the rope to one of the cedar
posts and dug up a few baby carrots for it.
Leaving the
horse there, I went into the house to make a call.
“Sparks, there’s an old horse here. You
know anything about it?”
“Damn,
now how the hell it get there?”
“I’m
asking you.”
“It was
in my field this morning.”
“If it is
yours, come and get it.”
“Pinball,
I can’t leave. I’ve got a job on my
hands that I need to get done today and I’m
already way behind. The kids are gone for the day.
They’re the ones who ride it.”
“Where
the heck did you get it?”
“Friend
of mine gave it to me. Cost me a sawbuck to have
it brought here. Gentle as a kitten, even my
youngest was riding it around.”
“I don’t
want a horse plowing through my corn and potatoes.”
“Do me a
favor, ride it down. Mom will give you a ride
back.”
Knowing Sparks,
I wondered if he might be setting me up. “How
do I know it can be ridden?”
“My word
of honor, all the kids have ridden her.”
“All
right, I’ll take a chance. If this is a
trick, you’ll pay for it.”
“Honest,
it’s all on the up and up.”
It didn’t
take me long to lead her to near the wall where I
climbed up on her back. I was expecting her to
bolt, but, as Sparks said, she was gentle. The
biggest problem I had riding down the field side
of the wall was getting her past clumps of grass
as she would continually want to stop and nibble.
I kept yelling at her, “Come on, come on, I
don’t have all day.”
Thinking back
to the phone conversation, I realized that it
might have helped matters if I had asked Sparks
her name. Finally, after what seemed like an hour,
we reached the road.
Not wanting to
take a chance riding the horse on the road, I
dismounted and began leading her by the rope. I’m
not sure why I didn’t hear the car coming
around a curve in the road. First I saw the hood
and then heard the sound of the horn — a
real blast.
The horse
jumped in fright and bumped into me, sending me
toward the car. Fortunately, the driver had
slowed down to a near stop. I hit the right front
fender, rolled over the hood and fell onto the
road.
I was stunned,
but because the car had slowed down so much, I
suffered no serious injuries.
The driver got
out of the car as I was getting up off the road.
I grabbed him by his shirt and shook him like a
stuffed doll. Then, all of a sudden, I saw stars
and almost dropped to the ground. I turned just
in time to see a woman about to hit me again with
her pocketbook. I ripped it out of her hands and
threw it across the road where it landed in some
bushes.
“Do that
again, lady, and it’ll be you that gets
thrown into the bushes.”
“You have
no business doing what you did to him,” she
yelled. “He just got out of the hospital a
week ago.”
“For what
he just did, he won’t go back to the
hospital. It’ll be jail and you’ll be
with him.”
Meanwhile, the
horse had galloped to Sparks’ place and
headed straight into the fields.
“Mom,
come out here,” Sparks yelled to Mrs. Sparks
who was in their house.
“What’s
wrong?”
“Pinball
was supposed to be riding the old mare back here.
I heard a horn and now it comes galloping back by
itself. Let’s go.”
Both of them
came running out of breath to the scene of the
accident.
Before Sparks
got close enough to see my eye, he yelled, “Pinball,
what’s wrong?”
I was at a
loss for words, but he wasn’t once he got a
good look at my face. “Holy mackerel, look
at your eye. What a beaut you got. He hit you?”
“Hell, no.
It was this woman with her pocketbook.” I
then proceeded to tell Sparks and Mrs. Sparks
what had happened.
“Wait a
minute,” protested the driver, “blowing
the horn was an accident. I know I made a bad
move, but I didn’t do it on purpose. I know
we can all settle this peacefully.”
The woman was
now crying. Mrs. Sparks, being the lady she was,
went over to her and put her arm on her shoulder.
Sparks seized
the moment. “I dunno, strangers, that horse
of mine has a nasty gash on its leg. Wouldn’t
be surprised if I had to put her away and I just
paid a bundle for her. Then look here at poor
Pinball’s eye. Never seen one to match it. I
think I’d best call the law.”
“We don’t
want any trouble. I’m sure we can settle
this like civilized human beings,” said the
driver. “All we wanted to do was to stop and
ask how to get out of here as we’re lost.”
Turning to me,
he said, “Now, what do you say, young man?”
I told him to
first settle with Sparks about the horse and we
would see about the rest.
Sparks said,
“Well, strangers, that horse is a mighty
fine one and it will break my kids’ hearts
to put it away.”
“How much,”
said the driver as he pulled his wallet out.
It was thick
with bills and Sparks didn’t miss the fact
that he was dealing with a fat cat.
“Seeings
how Pinball got the worst end of it here, I say
he be the judge.”
“Fair
enough with me,” replied the driver.
I looked at
the woman crying and at Mrs. Sparks with her arm
around the woman. I could see pleading in the
woman’s eyes and sympathy in those of Mrs.
Sparks. The driver’s eyes were focused on
the ground and he obviously felt terrible about
what had happened. Then I looked at Sparks’
eyes and all I could see were dollar signs. Also,
I knew that there was nothing wrong with the
horse. I then asked if the two would agree to
what I decided.
They both said
they would.
Mimicking
Sparks, I said, “Well, stranger, pay him
twenty dollars. That’s twenty dollars too
much.”
Sparks’
face turned red as a beet. He took off his cap,
threw it to the ground and jumped on it. “You,
Pinball, should get hung. Of all the dirty tricks
you pulled, this one takes the cake. You’ll
get yours.”
I told the
driver to pay Sparks before he had a heart attack.
It was all Mrs. Sparks could do to hold back the
laughter. The strangers looked at me in stunned
surprise.
“Pay him,”
I repeated.
The driver
took two tens out of his wallet while Sparks was
ranting, calling me every name in the book. He
took the bills, picked up his cap and slammed it
back onto his head. Dust seemed to fly everywhere.
I tried not to laugh as he glared at me and
yelled, “Just you wait, you miserable
stinker.”
Mrs. Sparks
went up to him with a smile. As she put her arm
around him, he calmed down somewhat and said,
“Come on, Mom, I’ll get the fool.”
I chuckled to
myself as I watched the two of them walk away.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?”
said the driver.
“He’ll
get over it. It’s not the first time he’d
like to shoot me. Where are you folks headed?”
“Norwalk,
Connecticut,” he answered.
“The way
you’re going will get you there, but it’s
a back way. Mind giving me a ride to my place?
Sparks won’t be doing it. Then I’ll
give you directions to get you out of here onto
the main road.”
“Now,
what do I owe you?” he asked.
“I have
already been paid.”
With that, I
laughed with tears streaming down my eyes as I
pictured Sparks jumping on his cap. I walked over
to the bushes, pulled out the pocketbook and,
with a smile, gave it to the lady.
She said,
“No one will believe this.”
“Don’t
worry about it, I won’t. Are you sure you
don’t have an anvil in the pocketbook?”
“Only
what a woman needs. Won’t he make trouble
for you?”
“Him? He’ll
sure try. He’ll shoot off his mouth and
scream murder as he can’t keep quiet, but
who do you think everyone around here will laugh
at?”
“But the
horse’s leg?” she asked.
“There’s
nothing wrong with the horse. It was two feet
away from the car. For an old mare, she sure ran
away okay. Besides, he made a hundred percent
profit.”
“How
could he?” asked the driver.
“He got
the horse for free and paid ten dollars to have
it delivered.”
“Well,
that makes us feel much better,” he said.
I climbed into
the back seat of their car and we headed to Jack’s
property.
“By the
way, my name is Sherman and this is my wife,
Helen.”
“I’m
Pinball Johnny.”
They couldn’t
help but laugh. Helen said, “That can’t
be your real name.”
“It isn’t,
but I’m stuck with it.”
As we came
into sight of the house and barn, Sherman asked
me if the place belonged to me. I explained that
I was the caretaker, then took them on a quick
tour of the house and showed them my rooms in the
barn. “All the furniture here comes from
Sparks’ loft.”
“The man
with the horse?” she asked.
“Yes. He’s
not a farmer, but a mechanic. Mostly farm
equipment.”
They washed up,
had a drink each and some coffee. I gave them
directions, we shook hands and they departed in
good spirits.
I left to go
to Wilson’s early the next morning. Wilson
took one look at me and burst out in laughter.
“Sparks was right, a real beauty. You should
have gotten a dozen more wallops.”
Then he
laughed again. “He’ll never live this
one down. I, myself, told him to keep it quiet,
but not him. He’s spreading it around town
like wildfire.”
“The guy
made a mistake, but so did I by grabbing him. All
she was doing was protecting him. After they left,
I found they even left fifty dollars on a chair
in my room. I can’t return it because I don’t
have their last name or their address.”
“You mean
you brought them to your place? Wait until Sparks
hears this! Keep the fifty. I’m going to
tell Sparks it was your jockey fee. You going to
the dance this week?”
Again, he
started laughing.
“You damn
well know I’m not.”
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