The Wine of Youth by John Fante Read Free Book Online Page B

not stop until we got to the Twelfth Street bridge. We crawled under it.
    Bill said: “Hey, that was sure easy as pie.”
    I said: “Gee, Bill, you sure swipe stuff!” He did not say anything. We knew he committed a mortal sin, but we did not say anything.
    He opened his waist and showed me. I thought he swiped one, but he swiped fifteen. They were in a box made out of velvet. They were pens that cost a whole lot. One of them had a ticket. It said: “$18.” I got scared to death.
    Bill said: “Hey, which one do you want?”
    I did not want Bill to think I was chicken or scared or yellow.
    I said: “Oh, I will take this one.” I took the cheapest. It was five dollars.
    He took the eighteen-dollar one and said: “Hey, what will we do with the rest?”
    I said: “I do not know.”
    He said: “Well, here goes.” He threw them into the water. It was a sandy bottom. You could see the pens.
    I wanted to run. I am not goofy, and a fountain-pen does not scare me, but I wanted to run away. I did not want to go to Confession, because the last time I confessed stealing migs, and Father Andrew got sore. I mean he talked real loud. If I told him I swiped a five-dollar pen, I bet he would yell. The holy people outside would hear him.
    Bill said: “Hey, we better beat it. Let me go first. You wait five minutes.”
    He crawled away and left me all alone with the pens.
    The pens did not scare me or anything, but I was scared about something. I got some rocks and mud and covered up the pens. It made the water muddy-looking. There was a long streak of muddy water. It made me feel like a thief. But Bill did it.
    All of a sudden I felt like running. I crawled out and started in. I ran and ran. I forgot where I was going until I got right in front of Drake’s. I nearly keeled over when I saw where I was. I was winded, but I started in again. I ran all the harder. Prettysoon I was right in front of the church. The church and school are right next to each other. I thought it was funny as heck to be there again, because it was pretty near five o’clock, and a school is a punk place to be at five. I thought how come, and so I started for home.
    I got a block away, and then I thought I better go back and say an Act of Contrition. Then I saw I was in a heck of a fix, because it says in the catechism that an Act of Contrition is good only if Confession cannot be had, and there I was only a block away from the priests’ house. The priest would hear my Confession if I asked him. I thought I better go ahead and have it over with. Father Andrew would sure be sore.
    Then I got a swell idea. I would ask for Father Joseph. He did not know about the migs, so he would not be hard on me. It was sure a good idea, because now I could go to Confession, and the fountain-pens would not scare me. I mean I would not be scared. Fountain-pens are nothing. It is nuts to be scared of them. I went back to the church. I ran all the way.
    I asked the maid for Father Joseph, and he came down. Father Joseph has a great big belly and a double chin. He likes me. He says I am a keen pitcher. He knows a pitcher on the St. Louis Browns. He says I am the born image of this pitcher. I like Father Joseph very, very much.
    I said: “Father, I want to go to Confession.”
    He said: “Why not? So does everybody.”
    We went into church, and Father got in the confessional.
    I told him what I did. I did not snitch on Bill. I just said I was in bad company a little while ago, and I swiped a fountain-pen. I am not a snitch baby.
    Father said I had to return the pen or what it was worth or he would not forgive me. I said I would. He gave me absolution. I went out to the altar and said my penance, which was five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys in honor of the Blessed Virgin. Father Joseph is sure a keen guy. He did not make me feel cheap at all. He hardly said anything.
    I got outside and started for home.