The Great Marble Caper

by Phil Malat

Part 1 appears
in this issue.

conclusion

For the first time a real wave of fear came over all of us. A GIRL? After a number of stirring slogans, Cliffy finally got his consensus. It convinced me that the rumors surrounding negotiations with his father for his radio must be true.

This GIRL had to be carefully selected. If we screwed this up it would make a bad marriage look like a day at the ballpark. We began our search by examining which GIRL might hate Danuchi the most. One by one, we eliminated names from the roster, retaining those with the biggest grudges. Some were eliminated for perceived flaws ranging from “She’s a scatterbrain” to “No guts” or she’s “Sister’s pet.”

I was then able to make a significant contribution to the search by further defining the GIRL’s assignment. How was she going to get the marbles out of school? This changed our focus entirely. Who could we trust that had some means of concealing the marble bag? This temporarily stymied us. Then Cliffy said, “I’ve got it: either Mary Louise or Sandy.”

His selection was based on the fact that they both had dance class right after school and therefore had to carry bags for their shoes and other paraphernalia. One of them could stick the marbles in her dance bag and simply walk right out of school. Great. Now, whom shall we choose, and who among us was going to make her an “offer she couldn’t refuse?”

We chose Mary Louise. She was more sophisticated and polished. She had a cool demeanor. She never had any disciplinary problems with the nuns. No one would ever suspect her of being involved in anything like this. Sandy could find herself in trouble for talking too much in class and, needless to say, we could not afford to risk such a sensitive undertaking on a “blabbermouth.”

Finally, my parents were friends with Mary Louise’s parents. It was determined that a girl of her stature wouldn’t be caught dead talking with anyone in our group, but based on family friendship, I might at least be able to approach her.

The playground at recess was divided between boys on one side and GIRLS on the other, as we knew nature intended. There weren’t any rules against crossing the line; none were needed. It just wasn’t done. Recess was the only time I could approach Mary Louise without drawing any real suspicion.

After exiting the building, I walked up to Mary Louise as everyone else dutifully divided by sex and moved to the appropriate side of the playground for morning recess. We stopped right at the line of demarcation. I swiftly detailed the caper and emphasized that we were offering a true path to heaven and sainthood by doing this work of the Lord. She could help us strike a blow for righteousness and against evil and Communism in the world. She was being given the opportunity to right a serious wrong while seeing to it that justice prevailed. I figured Cliffy’s evangelistic subterfuge was my only hope of convincing her to participate.

Mary Louise was outraged, insisting she would never be involved with anything so “tawdry.” I later had to ask Cliffy what “tawdry” meant. I made a final appeal by saying she knew what a louse Danuchi was and how she must know I was telling her the truth.

It turned out she hated Danuchi too, something we didn’t know. She still refused to give us any help, on moral grounds. It was at this point I first realized that politics would not be my chosen profession.

I just couldn’t bring myself to tell the guys I had failed. So I gambled. After all, the Lord hates cowardice. He loves the coward but hates the cowardice. I told them to go ahead and put the marbles in her desk. I needed to force Mary Louise’s hand if we were to prevail. Either she would give the marbles to Sister Rosanne, saying she had no idea how they got into her desk — she couldn’t admit she knew anything without incriminating herself — or maybe, just maybe, she would smuggle them out of school. It was a risk I thought we had to take. She was our only hope. Life itself is risk.

Anticipation created unbridled excitement. For the first time we all enjoyed going to school. Would today be the day? It was exhilarating and grueling at the same time. One day we were anxious and excited about executing the strike, and the next we were fearful and hesitant, wanting to call it off. Jeff was a wreck, but he also knew he was in total control of the entire operation. No one would blame him, if he scrapped the mission. But if we pulled it off... WOW!

It was a Wednesday afternoon, about halfway through afternoon classes. The fire alarm went off! The adrenalin was pumping at breakneck speed! Cliffy had to fight the irresistible urge to stay behind and direct the operation. Great generals never liked being secure behind the lines. Mark was praying no one would get caught helping him obtain simple justice.

My head was spinning as I stayed focused on the nun. Mike and John performed admirably. They went to the left instead of going to the right in the hallway. Then a miracle occurred. Big-mouth Myra, the biggest snitch in the class, immediately alerted Sister Roseanne that the boys were going the wrong way. This was proof that God was on our side.

When I hit the hall, Sister had both Mike and John by the ears and was marching them back in the right direction toward the classroom, where the door remained open as other students continued to file out. I winced a bit; battle scenes were often upsetting.

The Sister looked away from the door just briefly, which provided me with the opportunity I needed. I darted left instead of going right. I didn’t want her in the vicinity of the classroom where Jeff might be exposed. She was forced to release Mike and John to pursue me. I managed to get a good distance down the hall before she caught up with me. This took her even further away from the classroom.

I knew when she reached me by the tug to my right ear which was followed by a slap to the back of the head that rivaled my old man’s clout. By the time she had restored order, everyone was out of the classroom. She closed the door and followed her class outside to the playground. But something was amiss. Where was Jeff? Where was Jeff?!

A head count was seldom taken during a fire drill, but it was possible. I prayed for the “all-clear” bell to ring quickly, before anyone thought about initiating a count. If Jeff was discovered missing, everything would be lost. The all-clear bell rang in fairly short order, and the first crisis was averted... there would be no head count.

Now concern shifted as to whether anyone outside of our commando unit noticed Jeff was AWOL. Where was he? And if he was still inside, how would he blend with returning students? Was there a stray nun lurking about that may have detected Jeff? Had Jeff been immediately banished to the principal’s office where he was taking a licking? No, no, not Sister Gabriel?! She had ways of extracting information that even the Gestapo didn’t know about.

The usual confusion and bustle were occurring once we were back in the classroom with everyone milling about trying to return to their seats. As I glanced to the back of the room I saw Jeff! Was I mistaken?! Had he been outside?! How?! Oh well... “Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief...” Crisis number two averted.

Once we were all in the room Sister Roseanne closed the door. She was furious! She demanded our undivided and immediate attention! She expressed her supreme disappointment at having morons for students. A moron, we learned, was a student that didn’t know which way to turn in the hallway during a fire drill. She made it clear that we always go to the right, never to the left. She asked John why he went to the left. John said he thought he turned right. She then asked Michael where he thought he was going. Mike said he was just following John.

Then she asked me what in the world I was doing. I told her that I really needed to use the boy’s room and thought it would be okay to do so during the fire drill so I wouldn’t miss any of my studies. She then informed me that I would be provided with all the study time I needed after school.

For the next twenty minutes she continued with our geography lesson before instructing us to put our geography books away and take out our catechisms.

“What are you doing down there Mr. Danuchi?” asked Sister Roseanne.

“Sister, my marbles are gone!” replied the now panicked Danuchi.

“What are you talking about, Mr. Danuchi? Just take out your catechism.” From the exasperated tone in the poor nun’s voice it was clear she’d had enough for one day.

“But Sister, someone took my marbles!” pleaded Danuchi. The time had come to face crisis number three.

“Has anyone seen Mr. Danuchi’s marble bag?” she asked.

I shot a quick glance toward Mary Louise who was sitting with her catechism on the top of her desk. I thought, Holy Cow! It looks like she’s playing ball. Crisis number three averted.

Just as Cliffy predicted, a search of every boy’s desk was conducted by the beleaguered nun. Some girls underwent light scrutiny because of their close proximity to Danuchi’s desk. Danuchi also searched the entire cloakroom.

Sister Roseanne finally concluded that Mr. Danuchi had to be mistaken as to where he had last placed his marbles. Either that or they had “sprouted wings.”

The shack at the “empty lot” was a beehive of excitement that evening. The guys put off meeting until the evening to allow for my extended study period. We all wanted to know why Jeff didn’t make it outside during the fire drill. He said he had changed the plan because he wasn’t confident that he could avoid being seen. He wasn’t concerned about Sister Roseanne but rather, about other classmates. So he hid in the cloakroom until the classroom door was closed.

He said he waited a couple minutes and then went to Danuchi’s desk, took the marble bag out and put it in Mary Louise’s desk. He was safe in making the switch because he was alone in the classroom. He then waited in the cloakroom for the class to return.

At the height of the returning commotion he got down on his knees with his back to the classroom as if he were collecting something off the floor. Then he stood up and went to his seat. Brilliant...simply brilliant. We all were beginning to believe that Cliffy’s brilliance was having a profound effect on all of us.

Now the transfer to Mark needed to be arranged. Cliffy cautioned that the hand-off should be nowhere near the school. This meeting was to be clandestine and preferably after dark. It was also determined that both Mark and I would meet with Mary Louise for the pick-up, so Mark could properly thank her for the return of his precious property.

We thought this would be an effortless task, the easiest part of the operation, but Mary Louise had other ideas. She knew she was in possession of a real bargaining chip and wasn’t about to give the golden goose away.

We met again at the line of demarcation on the playground. This was getting really risky for me. People might begin to talk. The last thing I needed was even the hint that I had any interest in a GIRL. That kind of razzing could boarder on cruel and unusual punishment. I wanted this to be a quick chat.

I told Mary Louise we were grateful and that we now needed to make the exchange. She then said she needed something as well. She said she wanted a lifetime embargo against all spitballs and ink-well shenanigans for both her and Sandy. She assured me that she had not, and would not breathe a word of any of this to Sandy or anyone else but that she could have a change of heart, if we weren’t willing to be reasonable.

I implored her to be to be fair. Lifetime is extreme. I told her that we might be able to reach some agreement for a portion of the next school year, but lifetime wouldn’t work. She said it was non-negotiable: lifetime for her and Sandy or no marbles.

An emergency flashlight meeting was called that evening. With Cliffy’s radio playing Elvis, Buddy Holly, Fats Domino, Sam Cooke, and Jerry Lee tunes, we discussed the pros and cons. In the end it had to be Mark’s decision because they were Mark’s marbles. While we felt the demand was harsh and unreasonable, we also had to put ourselves in our buddy’s place. What would we do if they were our marbles?

In the end we gave the GIRLS what they wanted. This was our first lesson in how problematic and complex relationships could be with the often unreasonable and irrational opposite sex.

Danuchi never suspected us. Cliffy says that’s because no one ever approached him on the theft of Mark’s marbles. Danuchi thought he had fooled everyone and gotten away with his felony. There were many suspects over the months that followed, but most were those who expressed their disdain for the little creep, but never us.

Our little group eventually disbanded. We left St. Charles and pursed individual interests in sports, the arts, broadcasting, woodcrafting, auto mechanics, and some, like Cliffy, pursued science. The separation wasn’t a sweet goodbye but a slow process that simply evolved. Just as the era seemed to slip away so did the closeness of our friendships.

There is a cruelty in the way years scurry by. It never dawned on us that those days would someday be gone, days that would be lost forever. Cliffy probably would not have found companionship with us today, as he did in the 50’s. Cultural and educational changes don’t allow children to grow up free to wander their neighborhood developing camaraderie and deep friendships such as those that could be developed in that wonderful era. We were lucky. For “one brief shining moment” we could all unite under a common “Kid” banner to learn and grow together in ways that would serve us well for decades to come.

Mary Louise also demanded that no one ever learn of her involvement. That request has been duly honored until now. Either I am having the last word or I’m in huge trouble. If Cliffy were here, I suspect he would recommend that I begin sleeping with both eyes wide open.