Monday, March 21st, 2011

Book 'em Danno, by Kevin Tracy

There is no such thing as a bad boy said Spencer Tracy in the 1938 movie, Boy's Town. When I was in the fourth grade I wasn't sure. I was eight or nine depending on the time of year it was that I turned to a life of crime. I was hanging with a bad crowd, other fourth graders from the Stephen Palmer. We drifted into this life on the dark side. We drifted because we needed more money to survive that we got from allowances and that we could earn around the house. Comics had gone from 10 to 12 cents and more for an issue. The movies, fishing equipment, sports equipment, baseball cards were putting us further and further in the hole each week. It started innocently enough, the odd quarter taken from one of the Mom's purses or one taken from where someone's Dad kept his change on his dresser. We were careful not to take too much, so much that a parent might notice. We hit the jackpot collecting for the Jimmie Fund. The cans would be filled up by unsuspecting donors. Before we turned them in we would turn the cans upside down and using a kitchen knife we could get many of the dimes back out of the cans. If only, collecting for the Jimmy Fund had been a year round enterprise we would have been home free.

When we had no money and the conditions were right we would "hit" the Five and Ten. They had a large penny candy section back in the fifties and the candy just lay there waiting, no asking to be taken. And we did. We would always check to see if one of the clerks were looking and if the coast was clear, grab a few candies and nonchalantly walk out of the store. We were good at it. But, as it turns out not that good. One day I had taken my share of tootsie rolls from the bin, holding my stash in my hand with my hand in my pocket as I walked out of the Five and Ten to Great Plain Ave. As I exited I felt myself being grabbed from behind. I turned and a man told me to come back in the store with him. I had no choice. The rest of the gang had made it out safely. I was taken to the back of the store to an office. Who knew the Five and Ten had an office! Lights were turned on and the questioning started. What was my name? Where did I live? Was anyone with me? I tried to hold out but they had the evidence when they told me to empty my pocket. They had it, seven penny tootsie rolls. They had me cold and I knew it. I caved in and started crying. I told them I would never do it again. They didn't care. I was told that I was to go home and when I got there to tell my parents and that one of the parents would have to call them at the store. I left. I left knowing that I was a dead man.

A dead man. I walked home. I walked home crying. I walked home wishing it were yesterday. I walked home hoping that no one would be there. Mom was home. I cried as I told her about what I had done. I cried harder when she hit me and sent me to my room. I stayed in my room praying that my Dad wouldn't come home that evening. No luck there as he did. I was called down to the living room. I got whacked. Then I got a lecture on stealing, on sin. Lecture finished I was sent back to my room with instructions to go to confession on Saturday. I was sent back to my room hungry as I was to go without supper.

That pretty much ended my life of crime. For some reason whenever I hear, "Book 'em Danno" I think about the day I was caught stealing tootsie rolls at the old Five and Ten.

I heard "Book 'em Danno" today.
 

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