Hathaway Brown School - Specularia Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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was one of the few relics she had been able to save when her husband had died five years before, and it was as if its very presence in her shabby kitchen could bring comfort in reminding her of former happy times. -Ioe's dark, serious eyes filled with disgust as they scanned the cramped room, noticing the ugly, chipped plaster, the jagged crack in the ceilf ing which leaked maddeningly, and the old battered cupboards and sag' ging shelves that seemed unworthy to hold the few nice pieces of china that his mother had managed to keep in her possession. Joe dropped wear' ily into a chair and rested his grimy elbows on the table. How could he bear to have his mother living in a hole like this? There must be some' thing more he could do to help her save enough to move to a better section of town. He had worked several months at the gas station, but that was before he had met Pete. Pete was the boss of the neighborhood, and it was considered a privilege to have him as a friend. joe quickly fell under his spell and was flattered to be included in Pete's gang. He found they were smart fellows who scoffed at working and were able to get ready money by easier and more alluring methods. Ioe, tempted by easy wealth, formed the habit of working less and making up the difference from es' capades with Pete's gang. This way of life had seemed a good idea at first, but now he realized he could not repeat another such dangerous and brutal affair as tonightis. Stealing at first had seemed daring and clever, but now the sight of the bills before him only strengthened his conviction that no amount of money was worth a possible murder. It appalled him that the rest of the boys did not feel the same shock that he felt. How could they all be so eager to try it again? Would one ruthless deed sim' ply make them all the more ruthless? Suddenly the door pushed open, and Mrs. Gano appeared. She was a small, grayfhaired woman whose dowdy hat and faded coat seemed illfsuited to the erect figure beneath them. Her dulled eyes took on an inward glow when she perceived her dark, wellfbuilt son. In a voice that quavered with weariness she said, I hope you found enough in the house for supper, Joey. You look quite done in. They must have worked you pretty hard today. Joe swallowed hard, stared at the floor, yet managed to answer in a level voice. That's o. k., Ma. Working in a gas station's not so bad, you know. At least I got my pay today, and that should help out some. He indicated the money on the table with a careless gesture, almost afraid to look at it himself. Mrs. Gano's thin face flushed with sudden pride. joey, you are such a good boy, she exclaimed. L'You are learning young what an effort it takes to make an honest living, but with both of us working it won't be so very long before we will have saved enough for a better home. l30l

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7 Jlfama 5 gay RAYMOND SHORT STORY PRIZE OY, that guy never knew what hit him, ejaculated Pete, the boss of the Penn Alley gang. We cleaned up swell from his cash box with no trouble at all. just needed a smack on his bony old skull with that piece of pipe l swung-the rest was easy. No one saw us, and it may be hours before anyone goes into that outfoffthefway joint. But rememf ber, fellas, it's my brains that thinks up the plans, so you can thank me for the extra cash you got tonight. Yeah, said joe, rather sullenly, you know how to get it all right, and so far no one's on to us. But sometimes your methods-. The pic' ture of the druggist, with a bloody gash on the back of his gray head, crumpled in a heap behind the counter, haunted joe's troubled mind. Breaking into a closed store is one thing, but you might have bumped this fella off! What's eatin' you, joe? You got your dough, didnlt ya? So just cut the complaininf You keep your trap shut and do as l say like Mike, Al, and the others here. Let me do the managin'. The rest of the gang nodded approvingly at this suggestion. The six boys were clustered about the muchfscratched table in ,loe's kitchen, where they had just finished dividing the money from the night's work. lt was nearly ten o'clock, and suddenly joe, realizing the time, jumped up and said uneasily, You fellas have got to clear out of here now. Ma usually comes home about this time, and she wouldn't understand you guys being here. Sure, Mamma's Boy, we're goin', said Pete scornfully, pulling his dirty cap further down on his head. 'LSee you next Saturday at the same time. We're goin' to try the garage on Route Eightyfsix-should be a walk' away. ' The boys greedily snatched up their shares of the stolen money, stuffed them into their pockets, and sauntered from the room. After their noisy footsteps had died away down the alley, joe still made no move to pick up his bills. They were crumpled and dirty and looked oddly out of place on the immaculate surface of the table. Although this was only an ordinary table, it was the center of the Gano's housekeeping. lt was withf in easy reach of the stove, so that joe and his mother ate from its surface. lt had been the scene of Ioe's struggles over homework from first grade up until several months ago when, having reached sixteen, Joe quit school to go to work. The darning basket usually reposed there on Sunday. During the week Mrs. Gano had little time for her own housework, as she worked long hours as a cook in a fashionable residence. The table l29l

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So saying, she folded the bills carefully, and laid them in the hiding place where she kept her hardfearned savings. The following Saturday joe came home rather late from a busy day at the gas station. He carried his head high as he strode into the dingy kitchen and switched on the lights. He slapped his week's earnings down on the friendly old table with a satisfaction he had not experienced a week before. lt's just ninefthirty, but golly, l'm tired, he thought, as he took off his patched coat and flung it into the chair. But at least tonight 1'll be able to look Ma straight in the eye. She mustn't ever know ffff The door burst open and five dishevelled, toughflooking boys tramped into the room. Pete planted himself squarely in front of joe, stretched to his full height, and sneered, You ain't turnin' yella, are ya, joe? What's the reason for not showin' up tonight? That's bein' disloyal to the gang. My orders are to be followed, understand? Where were you? For a moment joe faltered before the glowering countenance. I had a job of my own to attend to, he answered. 'Tm not yelf low, I just can't get away any more. He suddenly saw the bewildered countenance of his mother, who had entered unnoticed through the open door. The boys in the gang turned in surprise, and at a signal from Pete shoved past Mrs. Gano and banged the door behind them. joey! Who are those boys? she asked searchingly. Never have I witnessed such rudeness! They're just a bunch of toughs. Surely they're not friends of yours! No, Ma, they're no friends of mine, said joe, edging away from her glance. 'Tm going to bed early tonight, Ma. There's your money on the table. But joe, you haven't told me about those boys. What were they doing here? There was an odd tone of suspicion in her voice that only made joe recoil farther. L'Nothing, Ma. They just stopped in for a while, he answered fretfully. L'I'm awful tired. Good night, Ma. The earlier look of conf tentment had faded from his face as he walked slowly toward his tiny bedroom. Mrs. Gano sighed heavily, picked up the money with her hardened fingers, and counted it. A deep, worried expression clouded her face as she thrust joe's earnings into the hiding place. It was over a month before joe encountered the gang again. This time it was later at night than before, and both joe and his mother were in bed when he heard someone at the door. joe leapt out of bed, ran to the kitchen, and opened the door to a bunch of boys that seemed to thunder in upon him. Pete stamped to the front, crunched his cigarette on the tableftop, and blew smoke in joe's angry face. wi