A tree grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith [83]
“Look how the moon walks on the water.”
Soon after the picnic, the organization began to prepare for Election Day. They distributed shiny white buttons with Mattie’s mug on them to the neighborhood kids. Francie got some and stared long at the face. Mattie had grown so mysterious to her, that he took the place of someone like the Holy Ghost—he was never seen but his presence was felt. The picture was of a bland-faced man with roached hair and handlebar mustache. It looked like the face of any small-time politician. Francie wished she could see him—just once in the flesh.
There was a lot of excitement about these buttons. The children used them for trading purposes, for games and coin of the realm. Neeley sold his top to a boy for ten buttons. Gimpy, the candy-store man, redeemed fifteen of Francie’s buttons for a penny’s worth of candy. (He had an arrangement with the Organization whereby he got the money back for the buttons.) Francie went around looking for Mattie and found him all over. She found boys playing pitch games with his face. She found him flattened out on a car track to make a miniature potsy. He was in the debris of Neeley’s pocket. She peered down the sewer and saw him floating face upward. She found him in the sour soil at the bottoms of gratings. She saw Punky Perkins, next to her in church, drop two buttons in the plate in lieu of the two pennies his mother had given him. She saw him go into the candy store and buy four Sweet Caporal cigarettes with the two cents after mass. She saw Mattie’s face everywhere but she never saw Mattie.
The week before Election she went around with Neeley and the boys gathering “lection” which was what they called the lumber for the big bonfires which would be lighted Election night. She helped store the lection in the cellar.
She was up early on Election Day and saw the man who came and knocked on the door. When Johnny answered, the man said,
“Nolan?”
“Yes,” admitted Johnny.
“At the polls, eleven o’clock.” He checked Johnny’s name on his list. He handed Johnny a cigar. “Compliments of Mattie Mahony.” He went on to the next Democrat.
“Wouldn’t you go anyhow without being told?” Francie asked.
“Yes, but they give us each a time so that the voting is staggered…you know, not everyone coming in a bunch.”
“Why?” persisted Francie.
“ ’Cause,” Johnny evaded.
“I’ll tell you why,” broke in Mama. “They want to keep tabs on who’s voting and how. They know when each man’s due at the polls and God help him if he doesn’t show up to vote for Mattie.”
“Women don’t know anything about politics,” said Johnny, lighting up Mattie’s cigar.
Francie helped Neeley drag their wood out on Election night. They contributed it to the biggest bonfire on the block. Francie got in line with the other children and danced around the fire Indian-fashion, singing “Tammany.” When the fire had burned down to embers, the boys raided the pushcarts of the Jewish merchants and stole potatoes which they roasted in the ashes. So cooked, they were called “mickies.” There weren’t enough to go around and Francie didn’t get any.
She stood on the street watching the returns come in on a bed sheet stretched from window to window of a house on the corner. A magic lantern across the street threw the figures on the sheet. Each time new returns came in, Francie shouted with the other kids,
“Another country heard from!”
Mattie’s picture appeared on the screen from time to time and the crowd cheered itself hoarse. A Democratic president was elected that year and the Democratic governor of the state was re-elected, but all that Francie knew was that Mattie Mahony got in again.
After Election, the politicians forgot their promises and enjoyed an earned rest until New Year, when they started work on the next Election. January second was Ladies’ Day at Democratic Headquarters. On