Lessons Learned Young
“Do you have the money?” Frankie asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it.” Charlie answered. A slightly nervous hand brushed the front pocket of his jeans, Charlie unconsciously touching his wallet. They were surrounded by a crowd, passing back and forth in the busy hallway.
“Well come on. Hand it over.” Frankie said, looming over the smaller figure.
“Awww, man, I’m not so sure . . .”
“What do you mean you’re not sure.” Frankie took a slight step forward. “You said you’d have the fifty bucks today.”
“I know, I know.” Charlie said, stepping back. “But . .”
“But nothing! You know how much his rookie card is gonna be worth? Especially cause its signed? If he goes to jail, its gonna be worth a ton! They’re already pulling his jersey off the shelf, try and find one!” Frankie unzipped his backpack and took out the Michael Vick Upper Deck Vintage card, with the blue and red background and protected in a hard plastic case. A black Sharpie scrawl cut across the bottom, underneath that a squiggled number seven. He extended his hand, pushing the card firmly into the Charlie’s chest and holding his empty hand out, palm up.
“Okay, I guess.” Charlie pulled out his wallet and quickly slipped some crumpled bills into Frankie’s waiting hand and taking the card
“Thanks man. You take care of that card, you won’t regret it.” Frankie said, slipping the cash into backpack. He leaned over, speaking in a lower voice. “Hey, you’re pretty cool, that’s why I cut you such a deal. Do me a favor and don’t tell anyone, okay, they’ll be twenty people all over me, wanting the same thing.” He clapped a hand on Charlie’s slight shoulder, who smiled and shook his head. A bell rang in the hallway.
“Gotta go, don’t want to be late for class. See you around man. Don’t forget.” Frankie ran two fingers on his own lips, zipping them shut.
“Okay. Cool. See you later.” Charlie put the card in his pocket along with his empty wallet and headed to the classroom two doors down. Frankie pulled his backpack higher on his shoulders and headed to the library. He normally had study hall this period, but he had convinced the Mr. Krieger, the study hall monitor, that he was on library aide, so he never had to show up. He spent plenty of time in the library, where it was easy to pretend you were studying or doing some research. Frankie swung the door open and headed right for the reference section, where he spent a minute or two reading the spines on the encyclopedias before grabbing one at random. He dropped his backpack onto the nearest empty desk, taking out a paper from the notebook inside. Frankie took the paper and the encyclopedia over the copier in the corner of the reference section. He placed the paper form his notebook in the copier, fed a nickel into the machine, quickly switching it off, then on again. The copier spit out his nickel and free copies, not about the work of Magnus von Wright, Finnish painter and ornithologist, as was in the open encyclopedia, but the March Madness bracket. Ten bucks would get you a copy of the bracket and a month of excitement as you tracked your teams and hoped they made the next round. Nobody had figured out the only real winner was Frankie. He grinned as he imagined the shoebox stuffed in the bottom of his closet full of cash.
Frankie stuffed his backpack with the copies of the bracket and strolled out the door, leaving Magnus Von Wright by the copier. If any teacher questioned his wandering, he always said he was on office aide, delivering a message to whatever classroom was nearby. Frankie headed to the cafeteria, where the first of three scheduled lunches had started. Plenty of kids and plenty of brackets to pass out, thought Frankie, smiling as he headed down the hall.