When Ted rounded the corner on his way home from school, he found Little Jimmy Brannagn and Dumbo leaning against the wire fence, waiting for him. Jimmy straightened up and grinned, showing the two big white grown-up teeth that had come in, in the last year. Dumbo hitched up his over sized hand-me-down pants.

Little Jimmy Brannagn was the strongest, toughest and shortest kid in the second grade. He could throw a fastball, make a double play, and steal home. He ran the 'Flaps Up' gang, and rumour had it, that he won fights with kids in the third and fourth grade. Jimmy strutted around the school yard, every boy's hero, a whiz at penny toss, marbles, and baseball. He didn't even mind if you called him Little Jimmy to his face, as long as you smiled when you said it.

Dumbo acted as the enforcer for the 'Flaps Up' gang. A big Italian kid, he didn't speak much. He should have been in grade four but the nuns had held him back because of his poor English. At first, the kids had called him Jumbo because of his size, but when he didn't talk that changed to Dumbo. The name stuck, even after Jimmy came along and saw his potential. Now they were a pair, like Mutt and Jeff.

Ted didn't stop walking. He knew he couldn't outrun Jimmy, and running might make things worse. He put his two fingers inside his collar, as if to loosen it, and twisted his head to see if he could spot any of the nuns or teachers in the school yard beside the school, but he saw no one. Why was Jimmy waiting for him? What was he going to do?

No cars splashed through the spring puddles. The row houses stood silent, and the stoops lay bare. To the right, he could see the kids playing beside the Children's Aid building, but they would be no help. Those kids were almost as tough as Jimmy. Ted knew at least one of them carried a pocket knife and looked at dirty pictures. They would laugh at him.

As Ted came abreast of Jimmy and Dumbo, Jimmy stepped in front of him, while Dumbo crowded him from behind. Ted did nothing. He decided if he had to fight he wanted to get in just one good punch before they knocked him down and rubbed mud in his face. One good shot, that's all he asked for.

"Heh, Four Eyes," Jimmy said, with his usual reckless smile. "I'se gots to talk to you."

"Yes, Jimmy."

"You see, the old bag's ragging me something awful these last couple of weeks. She's saying if'n I don't read better she'll keep me back a year."

With piercing black eyes, and a master sergeant's voice and manner, Sister Mary Bernice had taught at Saint Vincent for nearly forty years. Taller than most of the teachers (even the one male teacher) she struck terror into the hearts of parents and students. She knew every story, every lie, every excuse. An imposing figure in black with a white wimple, Sister Mary Bernice sailed like a fully rigged ship down the halls as she moved from the classroom to the office and back. The kids said that she probably taught the parish priest how to pray on weekends, and that someday she'd keep St. Peter from letting in naughty boys.

Sister Mary Bernice had a special project this year - Little Jimmy. She had decided that she could save him and would save him despite himself. Ted realised that even a tough guy like Jimmy could be afraid of someone. When that nun fixed her black glaring eyes on Jimmy, he scrunched down even smaller, all his bravado gone. To repeat Grade Two would mean another year under Sister Mary Bernice's bony thumb.

"Anyway," Jimmy continued, "I say's to myself. I need a little muscle with this reading thing. I say's Jimmy, who's got a handle on the books? who knows the trick? But it's got to be a cool guy that understands this is serious. Anyway Dumbo and I look youse all over. Dumbo says maybe a girl might do, but I don't have nothing to do with girls. Then, you just happen to come along. Dumbo and me, we figure, you're perfect."

"Dumbo?" Ted said, in surprise. He'd never heard Dumbo speak.

"Sure, Dumbo ain't a dummy. It's just he don't speak English so good. I figure maybe he needs a little help too. Look at me when I'm talking to you, Four Eyes. That's better. So we figure that you can help Dumbo and me. I'll make you an honorary member of the 'Flaps Up', and let you in on the gang's good times, if'n I pass. If I don't, I'll be mad."

Ted didn't want to make Jimmy mad. He'd seen Jimmy in a school yard fight and get the strap afterward. Little Jimmy took the strap as if Sister Mary Bernice was swinging a wet noodle. When she raised that strap, she looked like a track layer with a ten-pound sledge. The only time Jimmy looked ragged was sometimes on a Monday morning after his old man had gone on a tear, and decided to beat him. (Everyone in the parish knew about old Brannagn's pay-day drinking binges.) On days like that a silence fell on the schoolyard as the boys kept an eye on Jimmy while he squatted against the back fence.

"But why me?" Ted asked. "I'm not that good at reading. Mary Wegosh is much better."

"Something my old man told me," Jimmy replied. "He said the best teacher is someone who had to work hard to do good. He tole me that hard knocks is the only way to learn. I know at the start of the year, you was in the Turtles with me and Dumbo, but you moved up. That means you learned what I gotta learn. I wanna know how you do it?"

Ted looked down at his sneakers for a second. "My Pa helped me."

"Your Pa? I always thought you were a bit of a Mama's boy, Four Eyes."

That casual remark cut like a whetted knife. Sometimes anger overpowers common sense. Ted's head went up, and his fists clenched as he said, "Jimmy, do you like being short?"

Jimmy grabbed Ted by the jacket and backed him into Dumbo who grabbed the boy in a bear hug. "What you mean by that crack?"

"I don't wear glasses, 'cause I like to. I wear them 'cause I got to. I don't play sports very good because I've been sick a lot. I'm not strong like you, so I can't win a fight but I don't like being called Four Eyes. Now you can beat the daylights out of me, but if you do I'll follow you home and put a stone through your window."

After a second Jimmy backed up. "Let him go, Dumbo. You've got some mouth on you, kid, but you got guts. You know what I'd do if you pulled a stunt like that?"

"Beat me up. Then I go and do it again. Just 'cause I ain't strong don't mean I'm a scaredy cat."

"O.K., I get the point. So, will you help me and Dumbo?"

"On one condition. You have to stop calling me Four Eyes, and start calling me Ted. If you do it, the other kids will."

"Deal."

For the remaining twelve weeks of the year, Ted helped Dumbo and Jimmy. After school they took their readers and slipped into the ravine where the 'Flaps Up' gang had club house built into a tree. The children were forbidden from entering ravine by their parents, with warnings about the dangers of winos and hobos. The parents told stories of children kidnapped and cooked over open fires by these fierce strangers with tattered coats, long beards, and wine flavoured breath.

Ted had a rough time. If it hadn't been for Dumbo, nothing would have worked. Jimmy, like all kids, preferred to spend his time the things he did best. Reading kept falling off the list. Dumbo, wasn't that good at sports, just big, and he picked up the reading quickly once someone stopped to explain it to him. In the end Dumbo, got Jimmy to buckle down.

Every day they spent half an hour on the reader. Then they spent some more time reading comics. Jimmy read, and Ted helped him. Ted discovered that the other two would ask him questions he didn't have the answers to. That meant asking either his father, or Sister Mary Bernice before school. His sudden interest in learning was noted and viewed with a mild suspicion. Sister Mary Bernice had a low opinion of boys, one that rarely proved incorrect.

Jimmy started to pull out of his blue funk, and Dumbo even put up his hand a couple of times to answer questions. During recess, Jimmy let Ted join the gang in playing tag, or German ball, and in baseball, chose him for his team. He chose Ted last, but Ted preferred that to being left behind. The other kids stopped calling him Four Eyes.

By the end of June, Little Jimmy had delivered on his promise, and no one called Ted 'Four Eyes' any more. Sister Mary Bernice stood at the front of the classroom, handing out the report cards in sealed white envelopes, one to each child. She congratulated some of the girls, but viewed even the most successful boy with suspicion. Outside the school in the bright green freshness of a cool June day, Jimmy tore the envelope open to read his marks, and whooped with joy.

***
The children sitting on the floor at the feet of the student teacher as he told his story, gave a communal sigh of satisfaction.

"And that's the story of how fearless Ted won over the gang leader," the teacher said to the class. "Now, finish your milk and cookies and we'll play giant steps with the letters of the alphabet."

"Aw, teach," said several voices.

"What happened to Jimmy and Dumbo?"

"They probably ended up as gangsters and were shot down by cops."

"No," the teacher said. "Ted's family moved away from the area so Ted didn't get to see it but Sister Mary Bernice must have had a hand in it."

"In what?"

"In changing those two. Sister Mary Bernice wasn't one to give up easily. Jimmy and Dumbo became altar boys. They still got into trouble, but turned out all right. Jimmy joined the police force and, if you watch TV, you just might see him on the news. He's still short. Dumbo found he liked serving as an altar boy so much he went on to the seminary and became Father Anthony DeMarco."

"And what happened to Ted? What happened to Ted?"

"Well, Ted discovered that he liked teaching a lot, so much, he went to school to learn all the answers he would need. Now, off to recess with you," Ted said.


--- The End ---