Brown greeted Eddie’s father and motioned him to a chair across from her. Then she swiveled around to get the attendance record behind her on the bookcase. As she strained to reach the top shelf, the seam of her sleeve made a ripping sound. The pink flesh of her upper arm popped out like a sausage from its casing.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Miss Brown, momentarily flustered. She hastily snatched the record book and then reached for the shawl draped on her chair. After wrapping it around her shoulders, Miss Brown sat with her arms clamped stiffly against her sides.
A nervous snicker started at the back of Eddie’s throat. He bit his tongue to stifle it. He had already dug himself into a deep hole of trouble and laughing at the teacher now would be disastrous. Instead, he fixed an earnest look on his face as he continued to write and listen in on the adults’ conversation.
“I’ll get right to the point,” said Miss Brown, peering sternly at Frank Malone over her wire-rimmed glasses. Her look dared him to mention the ripping incident and even Frank Malone’s toughness evaporated under such scrutiny.
“Eddie’s failing because he’s missed too many lessons. He must come to school every day or he will repeat seventh grade!”
Eddie’s eyes widened in alarm. He cringed in spite of himself at Miss Brown’s dreadful warning.
Uh-oh. I’m in for a switching and now that Pa knows I’ve been skipping school, there’ll be no more fishing for me.
Eddie stole a glance at Pa who was looking down at his calloused hands, roughened by shoveling marl at the pit. Then Pa looked up at the teacher.
“I apologize for my son’s behavior, Miss Brown,” he said. “To tell the truth, I ain’t been supervisin’ him real close. You see, Eddie’s ma died back in Jacksonville not long ago and we’ve been goin’ through some bad times. When I took on this job with the Florida East Coast Railway, or F.E.C. as we call it, I thought Marathon would be a good place for Eddie. I know schoolin’ is important but he really likes to fish and swim.”
“School comes first,” said Miss Brown firmly. She pursed her lips for emphasis. “Eddie must be here every day.”
“I’ll try to see to it,” he said, “but we’ve been workin’ night and day to finish the railroad extension. A week from Sunday, a survey train will be sent to Key West and back to test the tracks. Mr. Flagler’s countin’ on us to be finished by then.”
“I sure want Eddie to get schoolin’,” Frank Malone continued. “Eddie’s ma wanted that too. She always made sure he done his lessons and spoke good English. Someday I’d like him to get a desk job, not one fightin’ mosquitoes and diggin’ in the marl pit like me. Buildin’ up roadbeds for them tracks is gruelin’ work.”
Miss Brown sighed. “Yes, well, please talk to your son, Mr. Malone. A boy’s father can be a tremendous influence.”
“Yes, ma’am,” agreed Frank Malone standing up. “I’ll do that.”
Then turning to Eddie, he said, “When you finish them sentences, git on home to your chores. I’m headin’ back to work, but make no mistake, when I git home tonight, we’ll talk.”
Frank Malone jammed his straw hat on his head and strode out the door. Eddie knew what “we’ll talk” meant. Most likely, Pa would give him a good switching for skipping school.
After finishing up sentences ninety-nine and one hundred, Eddie waited impatiently for his dismissal. Finally Miss Brown glanced at the clock on the wall and waved him out. Freed at last, Eddie burst out of the schoolhouse into the bright sunshine of the Florida Keys.
“Come on, Rex,” called Eddie. A big yellow Labrador retriever was waiting patiently in the shade of a buttonwood tree. At the sight of his master, he sprang to his feet and wagged his tail happily.
Eddie bent down to pat Rex’s head and whispered, “Pa won’t be home till late. Let’s go on over to Matthew’s house. There’s plenty of time to finish my chores before Pa gets home.”
Whenever Eddie needed a friend, he would walk over to see Matthew Lawrence. Matthew was a kind old man from the Bahamas who lived in Adderley Town, the small black community in Marathon. Before retiring, Matthew had worked as a carpenter for the Florida East Coast Railway and he liked entertaining Eddie with stories about the railroad.
When Eddie first came to Marathon, Matthew had taken him under his wing. The old man owned a small sailboat that he used when harvesting sponges to sell in Key West. Matthew had taught him how to sail the boat and sometimes let him borrow it to go fishing.
Eddie threw sticks for Rex to fetch as he walked along the sandy path to Adderley Town. When they arrived, Matthew was resting under the gumbo limbo tree near his white concrete house. The green wooden shutters at the windows were propped open, letting in a cool breeze.
“Hey, Matthew. How are you?”
“I’m doing all right,” said Matthew. “How about yourself?”
Sheepishly, Eddie confided in his friend about his trouble at school.
When he finished, Matthew said sympathetically, “I know you’d rather be outdoors, but you need book learning too.”
“Yeah,” sighed Eddie. “It’s just more fun to catch fish than to memorize poetry.”
Matthew smiled and said, “You’ve got that right.”
“Can you go fishing with me now?” asked Eddie.
“Sorry, but I’m weeding the garden today. My melons and squash need more room to grow,” said Matthew, “but you’re welcome to take the sailboat out by yourself.”
“Thanks,” replied Eddie. “I’m going to fish over at Sand Dollar Key.”
“Sounds good,” said the old man. Then looking up at the sky, he added, “Just keep your eye on the weather. My achy bones tell me a storm is brewing in the Gulf.”
Eddie whistled for Rex and hurried toward the dock where Matthew’s sailboat was tied. Rex hopped in first and sat straight up on his haunches ready to catch the wind in his ears. Eddie picked up a fishing pole that leaned against the mangroves. Then he jumped in behind Rex and set sail for his favorite place to fish and swim.
The fish weren’t biting so Eddie anchored the boat offshore. He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and dove into the clear, blue water. Rex jumped in after him and paddled around. When Eddie surfaced he took a deep breath and plunged deeper to search for horse conchs on the coral reef. Schools of tiny yellow and blue striped fish darted past him as he dove again and again.
The sun had dropped low in the western sky when Eddie realized that once again he’d lost track of time. Quickly he returned the sailboat to Matthew’s dock and ran home with Rex. It was nearly dark by the time he reached the camp where all the new railroad employees and their families lived. As he approached his tent, Eddie saw Pa’s muddy boots by the screen door.
“Uh-oh, Pa’s home and my chores aren’t done,” said Eddie, holding Rex back by his collar. “We’d better stay away and give Pa time to cool off.”
With his devoted companion
