twisted.
"Are they rehearsing again?" His question came automatically, before he realized that he was referring to an event months in the past. Her surprised look reminded Sammy that he had nearly broken the promise a second time. He rose to leave, anxious to avoid another blunder.
"Sammy, next time I'll plan ahead and we can visit inside. There's someone I want you to meet, butâ" she stopped in mid-sentence and smiled at him. She looked wise and childish at the same time, and it bothered him. "Not today."
He could feel the coupons inside his jacket pressing his chest as he pedaled toward town. As he left, a thought nagged him. Who did AnLillie want me to see? Had Walt told her that I'd already been inside the grounds?
Advertising at the retirement home, bowling alley, barbershops, and hair salons, plus outside various churches after services ate up almost all the boys' free time. Their business was thriving. One day before the big event, their coupon sales along with Walt's came to $225. Even with half the take going to The Arcade, minus expenses, the boys and Walt felt successful. Cut three ways, the money meant Sammy could pay his debts.
"Eleven seniors, counting me, are coming to the The Arcade."
"Are you all coming together?" Sammy still wondered if mixing the town seniors with Walt's group was a good idea. But greed was taking hold. He didn't want to lose any customers. One night together could be a good thing, he kept reassuring himself. Maybe they would mingle and get to know one another. He could see the newspaper headlines: TOWN'S YOUTH SOLVES COLONY MISUNDERSTANDING.
"We'll ride together. One of the older guys is hunting a van. I think we've got one."
"Older?" Sammy cringed at the thought. He knew what Walt's driving was like.
* * *
The next day, the business partners ate on the job; dinner consisted of hot dogs, fries, and pop. They could afford it with Walt's coupon sales. Mr. Lanton greeted them in his office at three-fifty. "Well, boys, not bad for your first try. It'll be interesting to see how many seniors actually show up. And I'd like to see the Colony seniors after all the fuss about that place."
"It's all a bunch of lies, Mr. Lanton. Those Colony people aren't out to hurt anyone," Sammy said.
"I know," Mr. Lanton said. "Personally, I think it's all one big hype to steal some prime development land."
Several of their customers had purchased many coupons, so Sammy knew the place wouldn't be crowded. He hoped the customers would spend more money on food so Mr. Lanton would be well rewarded for his time and worries. The general public was not welcome, unless, of course, they were senior citizens. It was going to be a slow-paced party.
By four-ten the first of the prepaying seniors arrived. The booming noise of the rock music was switched to a 1940's Glen Miller piece. Mr. Lanton had proudly found the tunes after searching through some cardboard boxes in the storage room. He also found Bing Crosby, Perry Como, and Old Blue Eyes, Frank Sinatra, along with what he called "older than dirt" dance music. John rigged up an ancient record player to the modern sound system.
One of the employees was listening to a Walkman, in an evident attempt to drown out the old tunes. From the looks of the men and women wandering the booths, they were enjoying the music more than the games. As more customers arrived and early evening darkened the sky, lights flickered, creating a carnival atmosphere. Coupons were being spent freely, the hot dog and caramel-corn business heated up, and decaf coffee was in high demand.
Sammy and John were feeling very successful. They stationed themselves near Mr. Lanton's office, ducking out every ten minutes to assess the crowd. It had grown over a dozen by five-fifteen, but still no sign of Walt and his troupe.
Music from the 20's Charleston Era had ended. An old fox-trot tune rose above the din of activity. One snappy-looking gentleman sporting a gray, waxed mustache and an
"Are they rehearsing again?" His question came automatically, before he realized that he was referring to an event months in the past. Her surprised look reminded Sammy that he had nearly broken the promise a second time. He rose to leave, anxious to avoid another blunder.
"Sammy, next time I'll plan ahead and we can visit inside. There's someone I want you to meet, butâ" she stopped in mid-sentence and smiled at him. She looked wise and childish at the same time, and it bothered him. "Not today."
He could feel the coupons inside his jacket pressing his chest as he pedaled toward town. As he left, a thought nagged him. Who did AnLillie want me to see? Had Walt told her that I'd already been inside the grounds?
Advertising at the retirement home, bowling alley, barbershops, and hair salons, plus outside various churches after services ate up almost all the boys' free time. Their business was thriving. One day before the big event, their coupon sales along with Walt's came to $225. Even with half the take going to The Arcade, minus expenses, the boys and Walt felt successful. Cut three ways, the money meant Sammy could pay his debts.
"Eleven seniors, counting me, are coming to the The Arcade."
"Are you all coming together?" Sammy still wondered if mixing the town seniors with Walt's group was a good idea. But greed was taking hold. He didn't want to lose any customers. One night together could be a good thing, he kept reassuring himself. Maybe they would mingle and get to know one another. He could see the newspaper headlines: TOWN'S YOUTH SOLVES COLONY MISUNDERSTANDING.
"We'll ride together. One of the older guys is hunting a van. I think we've got one."
"Older?" Sammy cringed at the thought. He knew what Walt's driving was like.
* * *
The next day, the business partners ate on the job; dinner consisted of hot dogs, fries, and pop. They could afford it with Walt's coupon sales. Mr. Lanton greeted them in his office at three-fifty. "Well, boys, not bad for your first try. It'll be interesting to see how many seniors actually show up. And I'd like to see the Colony seniors after all the fuss about that place."
"It's all a bunch of lies, Mr. Lanton. Those Colony people aren't out to hurt anyone," Sammy said.
"I know," Mr. Lanton said. "Personally, I think it's all one big hype to steal some prime development land."
Several of their customers had purchased many coupons, so Sammy knew the place wouldn't be crowded. He hoped the customers would spend more money on food so Mr. Lanton would be well rewarded for his time and worries. The general public was not welcome, unless, of course, they were senior citizens. It was going to be a slow-paced party.
By four-ten the first of the prepaying seniors arrived. The booming noise of the rock music was switched to a 1940's Glen Miller piece. Mr. Lanton had proudly found the tunes after searching through some cardboard boxes in the storage room. He also found Bing Crosby, Perry Como, and Old Blue Eyes, Frank Sinatra, along with what he called "older than dirt" dance music. John rigged up an ancient record player to the modern sound system.
One of the employees was listening to a Walkman, in an evident attempt to drown out the old tunes. From the looks of the men and women wandering the booths, they were enjoying the music more than the games. As more customers arrived and early evening darkened the sky, lights flickered, creating a carnival atmosphere. Coupons were being spent freely, the hot dog and caramel-corn business heated up, and decaf coffee was in high demand.
Sammy and John were feeling very successful. They stationed themselves near Mr. Lanton's office, ducking out every ten minutes to assess the crowd. It had grown over a dozen by five-fifteen, but still no sign of Walt and his troupe.
Music from the 20's Charleston Era had ended. An old fox-trot tune rose above the din of activity. One snappy-looking gentleman sporting a gray, waxed mustache and an
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