[For Part One of this tale of woe and occasional joy, go here.]
So, my summer of wonder and enchantment in the kid’s dreamland of Wildwood, New Jersey, had come to an abrupt halt. I was unemployed, tapped out, and the prospects for money were not good. The unlimited joys and pleasures of the boardwalk – pinball machines, wheels of fortune, thrill rides and indescribably delicious hot dogs from the Snow White stand – were unattainable without funds. And my quarter a week allowance was not going to cut it.
Dad was going to bring down from a Philly a shoeshine box for me so that I could try to pull in some coins shining shoes. Mike was doing okay with it. Why not me?
In the meantime, I was flat out of money and bored out of my skull. We were not spending our days as a family lounging on the beach and living the vacation lifestyle. Mom, Frank and Frank’s fiancé, Mickie, had all landed new jobs after the end of the Vince’s Sandwich Shop adventure. So, they were working. Even Mike was out there hustling. I needed to do something.
First, I took the path of least resistance. For a few mornings, I prowled under the boardwalk, a shaded space that was plenty tall enough to allow even adults to stand up straight. I searched for coins that people above had dropped and that had rolled through the spaces between the boards. Without a metal detector, it was an almost fruitless endeavor, and it was a big deal to find a nickel. I did a little better finding glass soda bottles on the beach and returning them to a grocery store for the deposit.
Then I heard about an easy way to make fifty cents a day. The idea was that you would go down to the beach and find a lifeguard who would let you be his errand boy for the day. You would spend the whole day on the beach, do a few things for the lifeguard, and he would usually give you half a buck. At least, that was the rumor I heard. It was a miles-long beach, and there were dozens of guards. Seemed promising.
The first day that I tried it, I was able to latch onto a guard pretty easily. He said to just hang around all day and be available to do things for him. So, that’s what I did. It was a cloudy and cool day – not a good beach day at all. As I recall, he first sent me to the lifeguard’s station house quite a distance away to get him a cup of coffee. Later, I took his written messages to other lifeguards.
It was nearly noon and looking like rain, when he yelled, “Hey, kid, I need you get me something to eat.” He had a dollar bill and was holding it out over the side of his wooden perch. It was much too high for me to reach, so he let it float down. He provided detailed instructions about buying him French fries from a specific stand a few blocks up the boardwalk and then drenching them in ketchup. He also wanted a Coke and a bunch of napkins. Finally, I was to hurry because the skies were threatening.
By the time I got to the food stand, it was beginning to drizzle. A few people were heading off the beach, and others were moving their chairs and blankets under the boardwalk. As instructed, I asked for a large order of fries and a Coke and paid for them, putting the change in my bathing suit pocket. The paper cup of Coke, with a wax straw sticking out was handed over immediately. But the fries were going to take a few minutes – they needed to be cooked. So, there I stood under an awning, taking in the sights and smells of the food stand and becoming hungry. I also realized that I was thirsty and was holding a bubbly ice-filled cup of Coke.
Then the rain started picking up, and people were running back and forth on the boardwalk. The Beatles’ Penny Lane was playing on a radio from inside the food stand. There was a sudden flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder. I looked out toward the beach, and a mass exodus, including the lifeguards, was taking place. I couldn’t see my lifeguard but assumed that he also was headed to safety somewhere.
By the time, I received the paper cone full of fries, the beach was just about deserted. I stopped to drench the fries in ketchup from a pump-top condiment jar. Then I stepped out into the pouring rain, and was soaked within seconds. I tried to protect the fries, but they quickly became a goopy mess of potatoes, water and ketchup. I then made a momentous decision. Since the lifeguard was gone, and I was very hungry and thirsty, and the fries were a sodden mess, I should eat the fries and drink the Coke. So, that’s what I did in the driving rain.
Guilt consumed me as quickly as I had consumed the fries, and I ran back to the apartment, with the lifeguard’s change still in my pocket. When Mom got back from work, I begged her to give me a dollar so that I could pay back the lifeguard. She took pity on me, and I paid him back the next day. My lifeguard errand boy days were over.
[TO BE CONTINUED]