and possibly the universe --- held their breath. The only sounds were inside their heads --- the moaning and wailing of the ghosts of all the poor slobs who had ever blundered onto Finsterwald's property.
To the utter amazement of all, when Russell finally croaked, "Time," Maniac Magee was still there, alive, smiling, apparently unharmed. Even more amazing, he didn't come out. Instead, he said, "Say, you guys, how about adding to the deal? If I do something else while I'm here, will you make it the next two weeks at school?"
"W-watts you g-gonna do?" stammered Russell.
Maniac thought for a minute, then announced brightly, "I'll knock on the front door."
Five kids finsterwallied on the spot. Several others screamed, "No! Don't!" Piper went into some sort of fit and began kicking the garage door. Russell zoned out.
Maniac took all of this to signify a deal. He hopped the backyard fence and strolled around front.
The others went back down the alley and around the long way. They stationed themselves not only across the street but almost halfway up the block. And even then, they squeezed together in a bunch, as though, if they allowed any space between them, Finsterwald might somehow pick them off, one by one.
They huddled, trembling, to bear witness to the last seconds of Maniac Magee's life. They saw him stand directly in front of the red brick, three-story house, the bile-green window shades. They saw him climb the three cement steps to the white door, the portal of death. They saw him raise his hand, and though they were too far away to hear, they saw him knock upon the door, and fifteen hearts beat in time to that silent knocking.
The door opened. Finsterwald's door opened. Not much, but enough so the witnesses could make out a thin strip of blackness. Would Maniac be sucked into that black hole like so much lint into a vacuum cleaner? Would Finsterwald's long, bony hand dart out, quick as a lizard's tongue, and snatch poor Maniac? Maniac appeared to be speaking to the dark crack. Was he pleading for his life? Would his last words be skewered like a marshmallow by Finsterwald's dagger-tipped cane?
Apparently not.
The door closed. Maniac bounded down the steps and came jogging toward them, grinning. Three kids bolted, sure he was a ghost. The others stayed. They invented excuses to touch him, to see if he was still himself, still warm. But they weren't positively certain until later, when they watched him devour a pack of butterscotch Krimpets.
*¤* nihua *¤*
Chapter 37
Thus began a series of heroic feats by Maniac Magee.
At twenty paces, he hit a telephone pole with a stone sixty one times in a row.
When the once-a-week freight train hit Elm Street, he started running from the Oriole Street dead end --- on one rail --- and beat the train to the park, no-sweat.
He took off his sneaks and socks and walked --- nonchalant as you please --- through the rat-infested dump at the foot of Rako Hill.
The mysterious hole down by the creek, the one you would never reach into, even if you dropped your most valuable possession into it --- he stuck his hand in, his arm in, all the way to the elbow, kept it there for the longest sixty seconds on record, and pulled it out, dirty, but still full of fingers.
He climbed the fence at the American bison pen at the zoo --- he had suggested this feat himself, everyone else scoffing --- and, while the mother looked on, kissed the baby buffalo.*
*Nobody knows why "buffalo" became "bull" in the jumprope song. History often gets things wrong.
So it went through February and March of that year, a feat a week.
To much of the town, hearing about these things, it was simply a case of the legend adding to itself, doing what legends do. To Russell and Piper McNab, it was a case of boosting their importance ever higher in the eyes of the other kids. Was it not at the brothers' direction that Maniac Magee performed these deeds? And who after all is the more amazing, the
To the utter amazement of all, when Russell finally croaked, "Time," Maniac Magee was still there, alive, smiling, apparently unharmed. Even more amazing, he didn't come out. Instead, he said, "Say, you guys, how about adding to the deal? If I do something else while I'm here, will you make it the next two weeks at school?"
"W-watts you g-gonna do?" stammered Russell.
Maniac thought for a minute, then announced brightly, "I'll knock on the front door."
Five kids finsterwallied on the spot. Several others screamed, "No! Don't!" Piper went into some sort of fit and began kicking the garage door. Russell zoned out.
Maniac took all of this to signify a deal. He hopped the backyard fence and strolled around front.
The others went back down the alley and around the long way. They stationed themselves not only across the street but almost halfway up the block. And even then, they squeezed together in a bunch, as though, if they allowed any space between them, Finsterwald might somehow pick them off, one by one.
They huddled, trembling, to bear witness to the last seconds of Maniac Magee's life. They saw him stand directly in front of the red brick, three-story house, the bile-green window shades. They saw him climb the three cement steps to the white door, the portal of death. They saw him raise his hand, and though they were too far away to hear, they saw him knock upon the door, and fifteen hearts beat in time to that silent knocking.
The door opened. Finsterwald's door opened. Not much, but enough so the witnesses could make out a thin strip of blackness. Would Maniac be sucked into that black hole like so much lint into a vacuum cleaner? Would Finsterwald's long, bony hand dart out, quick as a lizard's tongue, and snatch poor Maniac? Maniac appeared to be speaking to the dark crack. Was he pleading for his life? Would his last words be skewered like a marshmallow by Finsterwald's dagger-tipped cane?
Apparently not.
The door closed. Maniac bounded down the steps and came jogging toward them, grinning. Three kids bolted, sure he was a ghost. The others stayed. They invented excuses to touch him, to see if he was still himself, still warm. But they weren't positively certain until later, when they watched him devour a pack of butterscotch Krimpets.
*¤* nihua *¤*
Chapter 37
Thus began a series of heroic feats by Maniac Magee.
At twenty paces, he hit a telephone pole with a stone sixty one times in a row.
When the once-a-week freight train hit Elm Street, he started running from the Oriole Street dead end --- on one rail --- and beat the train to the park, no-sweat.
He took off his sneaks and socks and walked --- nonchalant as you please --- through the rat-infested dump at the foot of Rako Hill.
The mysterious hole down by the creek, the one you would never reach into, even if you dropped your most valuable possession into it --- he stuck his hand in, his arm in, all the way to the elbow, kept it there for the longest sixty seconds on record, and pulled it out, dirty, but still full of fingers.
He climbed the fence at the American bison pen at the zoo --- he had suggested this feat himself, everyone else scoffing --- and, while the mother looked on, kissed the baby buffalo.*
*Nobody knows why "buffalo" became "bull" in the jumprope song. History often gets things wrong.
So it went through February and March of that year, a feat a week.
To much of the town, hearing about these things, it was simply a case of the legend adding to itself, doing what legends do. To Russell and Piper McNab, it was a case of boosting their importance ever higher in the eyes of the other kids. Was it not at the brothers' direction that Maniac Magee performed these deeds? And who after all is the more amazing, the
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