Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1960)

Then he started to put out his hand to shake Paul’s, felt silly, pulled back his hand, then thrust it out again to cuff his friend on the shoulder “See you,” he said and walked out fast. He found D.D. (Anthony Carrazza) and Foggy (Joe Palamone) standing on the steps of the South Philadelphia Boys Club. “Well, hello,” said D.D., bowing low from the waist. “Hi,” chimed in Foggy. “How’s your last day?” “Fine,” he lied. “Got your phone message and I’m here to say goodbye.” “Feel like going into the gym?” D.D. asked. “Just what I need,” Fabian answered, glad of the chance to do something besides talking. And they went inside. So, for the next hour or so Fabian and his buddies horsed around in the gym. He had to admit (only to himself, of course) that he was a little out of shape, but it was a great feeling just running and jumping and wrestling and fooling around. He hadn’t done it for ages. He found his gym stuff in his old locker and it still fit him. For their final contest, he and D.D. climbed hand-over-hand up ropes to the ceiling. Foggy, who was the judge, hollered out, “A tie,” as they reached the ceiling. “Fake! Frameup!” screamed D.D. from the top of his rope. “Kill the referee!” Fabian shouted down. Without answering, Foggy walked over to the ropes, yanked both of them violently, and Fabian and D.D. came sliding down the ropes, finally tumbling to the floor, pulling Foggy down on top of them. Then, running all the way into the showers, they sang together at the tops of their voices. It’s really like old times, Fabian thought, ducking his head under the steaming water. And suddenly he stopped singing. It was going to be hard leaving D.D. and Foggy and all his other friends in the neighborhood. “What’s the matter?” Foggy shouted from the next shower. “Lost your voice?” “Nope — I’ve got soap in my mouth,” Fabian said, thinking quickly. He began to sing again with them, but somehow it wasn’t like before. . . . The same empty, churning feeling he’d had all day was still there, when the three of them walked across the street to Politano’s candy store just a few minutes later. And then, as Fabian watched his friends joking together, he suddenly became aware of the real reason why he was feeling this way. It wasn’t just because it was his last day in Philly. It was something else. D.D. and Foggy and even Paul had been acting strangely. They seemed unnaturally matter-of-fact about his going away. Didn’t anyone care? But then he shrugged the whole thing off . . . why should they care, he thought, reasoning with himself. What’s so special about me? But, as he took a leap and a jump onto the sidewalk, he knew that he really did care. They slid into their usual seats in the corner, ordered sodas, and began joking and laughing about old times. But Fabian’s thoughts went back further ... to the time, so many years ago, when he’d come into the store for the first time. His mother had brought him there to buy school supplies, for the first grade, and he could hardly see over the counter. He’d held her hand tightly and felt so proud when she let him pay Mr. Politano for the pencils, crayons and notebooks. He turned his head, and through the front door he could see the old familiar fire plug at the curb, the one he’d help open on hot nights to flood the streets (and the Politanos’ windows) with water. Across the street was a brick wall . . . “Remember how we used to play over there,” he said to the fellows, nodding his head toward it. Then suddenly, as if it were only yesterday, he remembered standing out there in the middle of the street and kicking a can high in the air. The next moment, there’d been an awful crash as it sailed through the window of the Politanos’ garage. ... “What’s the matter with the soda?” Foggy asked. “Something the matter? And you’re so quiet.” “No,” he answered, looking up. “It’s fine. I was just remembering all the great times I’ve had around this store.” Then a half smile came on his face. He turned to the boy behind the counter. “You remember Halloween a couple of years ago? The noise at your window? Your whole family must have been in and out a thousand times trying to figure out what the rapping was. Well, I did it,” he confessed. “Me and the gang. . . . This is the trick we used.” He began to draw with a pencil on a napkin, diagramming what had happened. The boy reached over and took the diagram out of his hand. “Just sign your name at the bottom of this,” he said, laughing. “We’ll always have your confession on hand to give to the police, just in case you come back to visit us.” Fabian scrawled a signature, “Elvis Presley,” and then headed for the door after D.D. and Foggy who’d already gotten up. Out on the street Foggy said, “We’ve got to be going now, Fabe. We’ve both got tests in school tomorrow.” Fabian thrust out his hand and shook D.D.’s and then Foggy’s. “Goodbye,” he said, “be seeing you.” Then he hurried off down the street. All the way to the Bellevue Pharmacy, his next stop, he tried to blot the memory of D.D. and Foggy from his mind. But they wouldn’t stay blotted. He remembered how strange they’d acted . . . they’d rushed off so quickly. I guess I just want to feel I’d be missed, he thought, annoyed at himself for caring. A few minutes later, he stopped still, outside the Bellevue Pharmacy, stood undecidedly at the door, and then went in. Immediately, he noticed that Bob Grobman — the fellow who’d given him an afterschool job in the drugstore, when he was only twelve, wasn’t around. But, nevertheless, he walked behind the counter and looked up at a shelf — the third from the top — and started to laugh. “Is anything wrong, sir?” the clerk asked him. “Not wrong,” answered Fabian. “The bicarbonate of soda’s still there.” “What? What?” said the somewhat confused clerk. “The bicarbonate of soda. Oh, never mind. Forget it. No, don’t forget it. Tell Bob Grobman that Fabian dropped in to say goodbye. I’m leaving town. Tell him I just wanted to check if the bicarbonate of soda had fallen off the shelf.” Still laughing, Fabian left the bewildered clerk and went out of the store. Bob would remember. . . . Part of Fabian’s errandboy’s job had been checking stock. In the process, he’d broken a lot of things. Then one night he’d been straightening a shelf when a one-pound box of bicarbonate of soda had fallen on his head, dousing him in powder. While he was sweeping it up, Bob had looked at him, shook his head in mock annoyance and said, “Put a little in a glass for me. After watching you juggle stock, I need some.” Fabian walked on past Frankie Avalon’s old house — past the open lot v/here he’d played football, past the building where he’d dropped bags filled with water on BE YOUR OWN "DRUG DETECTIVE" COMPARE and SAVE FOR COLDS • SORE THROATS • BAD BREATH VI-JON LABORATORY, ST. LOUIS, «0. • HEW YORK CITY CHICAGO • OAKLAND, CALIF. POEMS FIVE STAR MUSIC MASTERS, ■ WANTED for Musical Setting & Recording by AMERICA’S LARGEST SONG STUDIO. Send ems. Free examination. BLDG.. BOSTON. MASS. BACKACHE SECONDARY TO KIDNEY IRRITATION If worried by “Bladder Weakness” (Getting Up Nights or Bed Wetting, too frequent, burning or itching urination), Secondary Backache and Nervousness, or Strong Smelling, Cloudy Urine, due to common Kidney and Bladder Irritations, try CYSTEX for quick help. Safe for young and old. Ask druggist for CYSTEX. See how fast you improve. Gray Hair Brush It Away-Look Years Younger It’s easy with Brownatone. Thousands praise its natural appearing color. Instantly tints dull, faded or gray hair to lustrous shades of blonde, brown or black. Safe for and your permanent. Lasting— not wash out. 750 plus taxfree sample bottle. Mailed natural color of your hair. Dept. 22, Covington, Kentucky. ^HOLLYWOOD! ENLARGEMENTS of four Favorite PAo/osf Just to get acquainted, we will make you a beautiful 5x7 Silvertone portrait enlargement of your favorite 2 photos, negatives or color slides. Be sure to include color of hair, eyes and clothing and get our bargain offer for having your enlargements V beautifully hand colored in oil and mounted in handsome ivory and gold tooled frames. Limit 2. Enclose 10(f for handling each enlargement. Originals returned. We will pay $100.00 lor childrens or adnll pictures used in our advertising. Act NOW. U.S.A. only. HOLLYWOOD FILM STUDIOS, Dept. B-24 7021 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood 38, Cotif. 33