A newspaper boy tries to help his family

A man driving slowly down the street in an old but shiny Cadillac called out to Bradley. “Hey, young man, would you like to make some money on a paper route?”

“Yeah, when can I start?” said Bradley. He skidded his bike to a stop as the big car pulled towards the curb. The rule to stay away from strangers was forgotten the moment money was promised.

“How old are you?” said the man, who introduced himself with a long name that sounded like Constantinople without the C. “But everyone calls me Mr. O.” He smiled and winked, which made Bradley notice the deep wrinkles in his face. He was a slight man and wore a loose grey suit complete with a hat tilted to one side, like out of an old gangster movie.

“I just turned 10 today.” His birthday wasn’t until the next day, but Bradley couldn’t wait to get started.

“Just old enough! Happy birthday, young man. I will need you to come and fill out a paper and have your parents sign it for permission. Call me tomorrow.” He handed a business card to the boy, who put it in his jacket pocket.

Bradley didn’t know why, but he trusted Mr. O. Maybe it was his big shiny car, or the way the man’s eyes twinkled at him.

He imagined how the money would help pay the rent. He could tell Mom they would never get evicted again, which gave him a warm feeling all over. He pedaled home furiously.

Natalie had just made a coconut cake, Mo’s favorite. He was fresh out of LA County jail, and that was more important than a kid’s birthday. But she wanted Bradley to feel loved, so she cut him the first piece of cake and served it with a single candle sticking out of it. “Happy birthday, my little angel!” she crooned, and set it down on the kitchen table as if it were a gift from heaven.

“My birthday is tomorrow,” he said. He shouldn’t have corrected her. Fear came and made him curl his toes inside of his shoes.

“I know!” she said. “I’ll never forget that special day ten years ago! I wanted you more than anything…nobody was going to take my baby away. But Dad is home and I want to take care of him too.”

It was hard to believe his birth was that special, when she couldn’t get the day right. It made him wonder why he wanted so badly to help his family. He figured that the $50 a month he would make from the paper route would buy them some clothes, and Jeffrey would have lunch money at school and not get hassled by the rich kids for using their free tickets. He would open a bank account and the principle of compounding interest would make him rich by the time he finished high school. Then he could take care of the whole family, even their drunk Dad. Yeah. He had it all figured out. There was no choice, he had to do it.

Natalie cut a bigger piece of coconut cake for Mo and grabbed another beer, which she took to him as he sat in his tattered armchair hollering at the fights on TV.

“Hit ’em! Break that sucker’s jaw,” he was saying. “C’mon, punk, make me some money, dammit.” Mo knew all about boxing; he was a fighter himself. He was also a dedicated gambler, and was sure he was going to collect on this one. “Thank you, baby!” said Mo, grabbing the beer and letting her set the cake down onto a rickety TV tray. The sound of Bradley’s Mom’s butt getting spanked playfully was followed by the crack of a beer can opening.

Bradley’s only birthday present besides the piece of coconut cake came when he called Mr. O. “It’s Bradley, remember me? When can I start the paper route?” He took directions down and showed up right after school. It was an old garage off of an alley behind Colorado Boulevard. Inside were some older kids, and Mr. O, who was seated at a wooden table with a cashbox full of more money and coins than Bradley had ever seen in his life.

Bradley’s breath caught in his throat. I’m going to get rich, he thought. There were stacks of newspapers on wooden benches and tables. Kids were folding them one at a time and stuffing them into canvas bags. One kid’s hands were moving so fast they were a blur, which made Bradley stare until Mr. O got his attention.

Mr. O helped Bradley fill out a form which he had to take for his Mom to sign. They shook hands and Mr. O said “Congratulations, you’re hired, bring this paper back and…happy birthday Bradley.”

(Next post: He had no clue how hard he would have to work to make that $50 a month, or how little of it would go to helping his family).