Chapter 18: Several 'Oh Shits'

The high school football team was not at all happy with me. Neither was the basketball team, the baseball team, track team, cross country team, or chess, Drama, men's chorus or the male Mensa set (thankfully very small.)

On the other hand, the cheerleaders, women's chorus, the female Mensa group and the wallflowers thought I was wonderful. I'm an 12 year old, under five foot tall kid with an inch for every year ... and I knew how to use it!

If I'm really here and it's 1953, there are some things that are going to happen this year that I know about. I need a job, I'm going to need some money.

The bowling alley paid 10 cents a line for pin setters ... good setters got tips.

A paper route paid about 2 to 10 dollars a day depending on how many papers were delivered, plus the usual Christmas and birthday bonus.

Snow shoveling ... lawn mowing, apple picking, cherry picking, hay baling, weeding mint, harvesting assorted crops, babysitting, delivery boy ... I could do all those. I talked to my dad.

"Somebody get me my pills," he shouted. "David wants a job!"

"Very funny, daddy."

He laughed until I thought he might really need some. When he finally quit, he asked, "what for? Soda? Gum? Condoms?" He lost it again...

Remember? ... I have a bigger dick...

I mentioned that. He quit laughing and started grumbling, "yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in. What do you need?" as he fumbled in his pocket change, "50 cents?"

"Tell you what," I replied. "I'll make a bet with you. I pick the winner of the Kentucky Derby, and you set me up a stock market account with one thousand dollars in it."

"What happens if you're wrong?" Daddy loves the races.

"You choose."

"I choose? What does that mean?"

"What ever you set, I'll do it."

"You mean this?"

"I do."

"Does this have anything to do with Jezebel?"

"Yes."

He picked up the phone ... in 1953 we still had crank phones. He gave it a crank, the operator answered, Daddy said, "Give me Shorty's Barbershop, please." A pause..."Shorty? Charley. Derby odds please. To win. That much? Wow! I know it's two months away ... I know they don't have the field set yet. I want to place a bet. Gimmie a second."

He snapped his fingers. I took his legal pad and wrote: 1953 HORSE: Dark Star, JOCKEY: Hank Moreno, TRAINER: Eddie Hayward, OWNER: Cain Hoy Stable TIME: 2:02.00.

"Shorty? Yeah. Dark Star with Hank Moreno up. A grand." Daddy gives me a real hard look. "Gimmie odds on the time? 35 to one? A grand on 2:02 flat. I'll be in for my haircut Friday. Shorty, lay off on the bets ... you can't afford this one. Friday." He hung up.

"If you're right ... you just made 70 thousand dollars. I'm keeping five for the risk. Is 70 grand big enough for your stock market plunge? Can I ride along?

"David? You're different than you were before you got shot. You're more mature, even smarter than before, you're focused, getting better grades ... Hah! Better grades? Straight A's, I had to go see the principal ... you might have to retake your exams.