Chapter 29

Polly's third child was a squalling boy who was delivered at Garfield Hospital in the city during the last week of May 1928. They named him Seth and Harry for his deceased grandfathers. He was a big one, and he gained weight fast draining Polly of her milk and sucking down goats' milk by the pint. His father soon nicknamed him Buddha and found it hard to believe how beautiful he was and how tightly he could grip an extended finger.

One of their farms was left fallow that spring, the house and barn empty as were many other places in the County, and when prices for farm products continued to fall, the second of the dairying tenants talked of quitting and begged to delay his payments. The stock market was still booming along however and seemed to be the prime topic of conversation along with Scott and Zelda, "Lucky" Lindbergh, the Florida land boom, talking pictures and Al Capone.

The theater people did return that long summer but without director Tom McCullough. They cleaned up the place, scythed down the hay, restrung their lights and added lamps at the store's privy, constructed a creaking circular stage that allowed them to change sets quickly and put on some hilarious chases, paid Polly to come down with her baby in a washbasket and repaint some of the flats, and then opened in mid-June with last year's hit, "A Murder in the Red Barn."

The crowds were good and the refreshment stand sold fruit from the Williams' small orchard as well as its usual soft drinks and cookies. A few rainy weekends left cars mired in the field, but, all in all, the players and their neighbors had a good year, and Polly and her children enjoyed watching them work and play. The Samuel Williams family added their share of the receipts to their depleted bank account with the permission of the rest of the family.

Paul McPherson, Jenny's older son, entered seventh grade at the Kensington School in September after visiting the new school in Bethesda, and his brother was welcomed into 5th grade after reading nearly all of his grandfather's books that summer, including a great deal of Charles Dickens, Van Loon and all of the Uncle Remus stories. The musty books had been brought from the house along with Seth's rolltop desk before the place was rented.

Michael, now taller than his brother, had become a popular figure on the playground because of his prowess at various sports, especially soccer and baseball. Both boys had scheduled times to work in the store and were now making fifteen cents an hour for their labors. Paul had become a favorite of some of the female customers because of his remarkable manners, excellent memory and good looks. Within a couple of weeks he was able to call the majority of the women by name and knew their preferences. When Michael called him the Turnpike Valentino, he got a laugh from Sammy and a blush from his brother. Michael, who moved faster than his brother in filling orders, was the master of the long tongs and enjoyed plucking goods from the highest shelves and catching them with ease. Despite Polly's best efforts his cowlick remained untamed. Both boys were fast and accurate in adding up client's bills.

Polly and Sammy's new baby, usually called Bud, passed his one-year checkup with flying colors and by the end of September was crawling everywhere after spending a long time just learning to sit up and turn over by himself. Once he got moving his fat legs and chunky arms thinned down a bit, and his father stopped suggesting that he might be related to Chief Justice Taft.

For the Williams family, even with the farm problems plaguing the nation and the county, things were going along pretty well except that the big store out in Madison, Wisconsin, seemed to be having troubles, and Polly had let them skip a couple of payments on their mortgage. Then on Thursday, October 24, just after lunch, while Sammy was oiling his cutting board, the telephone rang. Sammy answered in his usual businesslike manner and his brother cut in before he could finish. "Sam," Robert cried loudly, "Sam, is that you, oh God."

"Robert," Sammy said, surprised and suddenly worried, "what's wrong? Are you sick?"

"No, no. I need some money, a lot of money. How much can you lend me?"

"Now slow down," Sammy said, "and go back to the beginning."

"All right, all right. My broker's been calling all morning, even sent me a wire. The Market's broken, everything's falling and I have to cover."

"How much do you need?" Sammy asked, trying to comprehend what he was hearing.

"I don't know, twenty thousand right now, at least twenty thou."

"Are you crazy! You owe somebody $20,000?"

"Yes, yes, it's a broker loan, a margin loan, whatever the hell you call it, but he will sell me out if I don't cover. Oh damn."

"Gee, Robert, I'll have to talk to Polly, and..."

"Wait, wait, maybe it's all right. I'm listening to the radio. They're saying the banks are buying. Wait, Sammy, just a minute, Morgan, Chase and they are saying Whitney himself is on the floor with buy orders. Maybe it will, you know we've had these bumps before, but if J. P. Morgan is buying. Ha. I'll get back to you, but ask Polly just in case." He hung up.

Sammy stood with the receiver in his hand and looked out the front window of his store. In the last year, he knew, the price of some stocks had doubled and a few had redoubled. That could not all be crumbling, could it? He thought of what had happened with Florida land prices and hung up the phone as one of Ford's new Model A's went by, a tan one. Change was surely in the air.

Polly was hanging wash on the backyard line with the baby crawling around in the grass while the older children played at the sandbox. Sammy briefly wondered if his youngest child ate bugs now and then. He yelled for her to come to the store when she was done.

When Polly arrived with her big baby in her arms and the other two trailing along, barefoot of course, she sat with him in her lap and drank the Coca Cola Sammy got for her, giving Bud a sip or two while Janie and Phil played in the back room where they had established a make-believe grocery store. "Robert called, just a little while ago," Sammy told her. "The stock market is having some sort of bad day, real bad he said."

"You ought to have a radio in here. Maybe we can get a new one for the house. I saw a nice Atwater Kent when we were at the doctor's."

"OK, but listen, Robert was very excited, and he wanted to borrow some money."

"Why?" asked Polly, bouncing her child on her thigh. "Get your son a candy so he won't chew his fist off."

Sammy went to the counter and brought Polly a fruit stick, green and white spiraled. She held it and the baby sucked happily, getting sticky juice on his face, hands and shirt. "Robert said he needed $20,000 for his broker; said he had to have it. I've never heard him so excited." Sammy kept his voice low and calm with some effort, expecting the phone to jangle at any minute.