Oh, my Papa

THE SLY FOX

 

Hymie saves things, coins, old, new, valuable, fake. He is a real phenomena. Most every time we take a walk or just go to the malt shop
together, he stops in his tracks when he sees a quarter, or even a penny, on the pavement. 'Finders keepers,' he laughs and puts the found coin in his baggy pants. I don't know what his baggy pants remind me of, but something niggles at my brain.

 

Just a week ago he spotted a shiny Indian head penny, right in the street car tracks. When he looked at it closely he showed me the year on it, 1934. It excited me. It was my birthday and I asked him to please give it to me. But he wouldn't because  Indian head pennies were worth fifty cents each in the Davis's coin shop and I could  buy one there. 'It wouldn't be the same, Hymie. I would treasure the one you found and gave me. I would never sell it or lose it.' The stubborn donkey closed his ears and opened his wide pants' pocket.

 

His shoe- string was loose and when he bent down to re-tie it, darn if there wasn't another penny under his shoe. He hadn't seen it. He hadn't felt it, yet I saw it with my own eyes. Hymie's face lit up. Want it?' he asked. ' No, I want the 1934 one.' Then find one for yourself or go buy one from Davis. He's got every year from 1910 to 2000.' I was ready to fight. 'You are a mean person, Hymie. I don't think I want to be your friend any more.' 'Then don't.' Before I could find a good answer, he was running down the street without stopping once until he got to the malt shop. As a few kids went in and some came out, my ex friend, just stood near the door, watching for me.

 

All the way home I searched each pavement, looked in gutters, under benches, saw ants and candy wrappers, a bent paper cup, but not one coin. I began to feel stupid, unlucky, when I heard Hymie's whistle. He was panting when he got to me. 'Here, want this 1933 penny?' My nose went in the air as I told him not to talk to me. He wasn't my friend anymore.

 

My mother listened to my tale of woe, how hurt and angry I was at Hymie. 'You are right to be hurt, Sherry, but you are hurting yourself to give up your friendship. Let's talk it over with Dad at dinner.' And so it happened that the wise ones came up with a possible way to repair the ill feelings.

 

In his deep, gravelly voice that is always covered with molasses, he told my Mom he would be home for dinner a little late on Friday, maybe twenty to thirty minutes. Dad leaves a small white box tied with plain grayish cord on the key table near the front door,  washes his face, enjoys a brandy and we sit down to dinner. After dessert and his place is cleared away, he calmly asks me to bring in that little box from the key table. It's light as a feather and clinks a little when I shake it.

 

"Magicadoola, look at all of the coins Mr. Davis gave me for almost nothing. There are some old ones that date back to the 1500's but they aren't in good shape. Look at this big one with Caesar on it. Look closely. The clothes are like Caesar of Rome but the face is Sid Caesar of New York. Hymie won't notice. Here, see these Chinese coins, dated 948? Mr. Davis told me there were no Chinese coins then. Here, this is the best. It's a 1934 Indian Head penny, shiny as if it was yesterday, and it probably was.

 

Sherry, tomorrow before lunch, I'll call Hymie to tell him you are very upset and don't want to lose his friendship. I'm going to invite him to join Mom, you and me at the malt shop for a light lunch. 'He'll come. I know he will.' 'But Daddy, I don't want to be his friend any more. I told him that and meant it.'

 

'We are going to fix him good. He won't tease you anymore about coins.

 

At 10  you,  Mom and I will walk slowly to the malt shop. We'll drop these coins off of our path, make them barely visible, but plain enough for Hymie to find a few. Being an actor with two beautiful
actresses, we can ooh and ah, be so surprised at his great luck. After our lunch, I'll suggest to him we take his rare coins to Mr. Davis who will talk to him about each one until–until-Hymie almost pees in his pants from excitement. We'll embarrass him enough that he'll maybe change his high falootin' superior attitude about himself.'

 

Dad's plan works perfectly, just like he thought it would. Every coin Hymie finds he drops in his baggy pants. His disappointment when he learns the truth, brings a few real tears out of his sad eyes.

 

Sherry hurts worse than Hymie, puts her arm around his shoulders and tells him she apologizes and wants to still be his friend. Dad hands him a real, true American $5 bill and sends us to a Saturday movie.

 

'Buy her some Silver Buds, Hymie. Sherry loves them.'