Aubrey, the Policeman, Spoiled our Fun (Cont.)
Screen 2 of 2I have forgotten the details, but I do remember well that our mother's reaction to the whole affair, as well as the lecture she gave us about it, was serious and forceful. It was not nearly as scary or memorable, however, as our visit the next morning to the office of President Cherry. Aubrey was determined that our misdeeds should be known by the president of the school, and he took us there at seven o'clock.
"Well, come in; don't just stand there," President Cherry said in a gruff voice. "Why are you so late? I've been here at my office for three hours already." This didn't surprise us, for everyone knew that he regularly came to his office each morning at three-thirty or four o'clock to begin his day's work. Some said he did not have a happy married life and that to get away from his wife he went to bed alone every night at seven o'clock. But of course, Will Gooch and I didn't know if any of those rumors were true. We did know well, however, that he was a stern, hard-working man and that he would put up with no foolishness.
He told us to sit in two high back chairs along the wall, and we did just that while Aubrey told President Cherry that we had broken "all them windows" in the gymnasium. I didn't say so, but I thought he exaggerated the story considerably. In spite of our earlier bragging, we had actually broken only a few of the windows, but Aubrey made it appear that we had broken most of the windows on one side of the building.
All the time Aubrey was talking, Mr. Cherry stood silently and just stared directly at us with a frown that really frightened me.
When Aubrey finished his account which stressed how alert he had been to catch us, the president turned around without saying anything and walked over to a big window overlooking the steep, hillside campus. If he was trying to impress us with the gravity of what we had done, he was certainly succeeding.
Then he suddenly turned toward us and began throwing questions--one right after the other, allowing no time at all for answers. It was obvious he didn't expect any. Among other things, he asked us in quick succession why we would do such an awful thing; if we had any money of our own to pay for the broken windows--he knew we didn't; and if we wanted to go to jail--again he knew the answer and gave no time for a response. Then a long dreadful silence!
Finally, he told us to come over to the window where he was standing. We did, but it was so high I had to stand on tip-toe to look out.
"I'll tell you two rascals one thing for sure," he began without looking at either of us. "Your mother is not going to pay for those windows you broke. Her small salary would make that very difficult. And even if she could pay for them," he continued, "I would not let her do it. You're the ones who are going to pay for them. You say you have no money. All right you'll make it--you'll earn it."
"How?" we both asked at the same time.
"You see that grass on the hillside below?" He looked first at me, then at Will Gooch. We nodded. "Well, you are going to push a lawn mower up and down that hill--yes, I mean the steep one-- and allover this campus until you've earned enough money at 15 cents an hour to pay for every one of those broken windows." He paused and then added, "Do you understand?"
Yes, of course we did understand and told him so. I would have agreed to anything to get out of there. As we left in a hurry and with our apologies for causing him so much trouble, President Cherry put his hand lightly on my head and quipped, "Chester, you must be a pretty good shot!" I looked up and saw a slight twinkle in his eye and a faint smile beginning to break around his mouth. Maybe he was human after all, I remember thinking.
For the next six weeks we went up and down those campus hills cutting the grass with a hand-pushed lawn mower. We received no money for doing all this work but were finally told we had earned enough money to pay for the broken windows.
Lessons are oftentimes learned in the strangest ways, and from this experience of breaking windows I certainly learned a lesson that I have never forgotten. While pushing that lawn mower on the Western campus in the hot mid-summer sun, I soon realized it is much easier to break something than it is to pay for it.
Chester C. Travelstead
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