[legendsport]

August 3, 1938: Hoboken, NJ:

"Hold your horses! I'll be right there!"

Charlotte Cleaves strode towards the door, a dishtowel in hand. Noticing that her hands were dripping soapy water onto the carpet, she wiped them with the towel, finishing just as she reached the door.

She swung it open to see an older gentleman standing on the porch, holding his hat in his left hand while his right hand was raised in preparation for another knock.

"Can I help you?" Charlotte asked, thinking that this fellow looked familiar.

"Mrs. Cleaves, I'm Rufus Barrell," the man said, then added, somewhat unnecessarily, "Joe's father."

Charlotte nodded. "Yes, I remember you now. I believe we've met before," she said, racking her brain, unsure if that was true, or if she'd only seen photos.

Rufus tipped his head. "Yes, we did meet briefly, frankly I'm surprised you remember."

Charlotte smiled, covering up the uncomfortable fact that she now remembered that they'd met at Joe's funeral. "I would have pegged you regardless. Rollie looks a lot like you," she said quickly.

Rufus was momentarily taken aback, then realized that of course Charlotte had met Rollie - he and her father George Theobald both had offices at Thompson Field in Detroit.

Charlotte took a step back and waved a hand, saying, "Please come in."

"Thank you," Rufus said and stepped over the threshold. "A lovely home you have, Mrs. Cleaves," he said politely.

"Oh, you're too kind. And please call me Charlotte," she replied. She led him to an armchair and after he sat down, she seated herself on the sofa, facing him. Realizing she still had the dishtowel in hand, she dropped it onto her lap, a sheepish and nervous look on her face.

"I suppose you're wondering what I'm doing here," Rufus said.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am," she answered.

Rufus reached into his jacket and took out a pair of glasses. "Sorry, I need these now apparently," he told her as he put them on. Then he reached back into his jacket, on the other side and removed an envelope.

"I wanted you to have this," he said, extending the envelope out to her. "It's, uh, for Roger."

"Roger?"

"Yes, your son," Rufus said and then added in a low voice, "And my grandson."

Charlotte swallowed. She wasn't sure how many of Joe's family knew about Roger being Joe's son. Apparently... they all did. Or at least the ones who mattered.

"What is it?" she asked.

"A check for $5,000."

Charlotte sat back quickly, stunned. A moment later she gasped, "What? Why?"

Rufus took a deep breath. "I know your husband is gone, Charlotte. And your older sons... well, I happen to know them both and they're good men, and I'm sure they help you however they can," he said and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "But Roger is my kin, and I want you to use this for his college education."

Charlotte blinked a couple of times and then... she laughed.

Now it was Rufus' turn to be shocked. "Why is that funny?" he asked after a moment.

Charlotte waved a hand. "Oh, you haven't met Roger. The chances of that boy going to college... well, let's just say those are very long odds."

Rufus frowned and said, "I see."

An awkward silence took hold. Then Rufus took a deep breath and said, "Well, keep it anyway. Perhaps you can hold it until Roger's older. Maybe he'll have need of it."

"Pssh..." Charlotte snorted. "That boy makes more money than a lot of the men in this neighborhood."

"How is that possible?" Rufus did some quick calculations in his head. "Isn't he... only... fourteen?" he asked.

Charlotte nodded. "Yes. Fourteen going on forty. That boy will be the death of me."

Before she could explain further, the door banged open and Roger walked in. Rufus quickly appraised the grandson he'd previously only glimpsed at a distance, immediately recognizing a lot of Joe in the boy. He was tall, for one thing, his face very like Alice's father Joe Reid (just as Joe's had been) and he looked strong. He also smelled, faintly, of... alcohol?

"What's for dinner, mom?" he asked, and there was a definite slurring in his voice.

"You've been drinking again young man!" Charlotte exclaimed and stood up, hands on hips, to glare at her son.

Ignoring her, he turned and looked at Rufus. "Who's the geezer?" he asked.

Charlotte's face turned red; she was mortified. Of course, Roger had no idea that the "geezer" was his paternal grandfather.

"I'm Rufus Barrell," Rufus said and extended his right hand.

Roger cocked an eyebrow and looked at the offered hand. Instead of taking it, he asked, "Barrell? You related to Rollie?"

"Yes, Rollie is my son. So was Joe," Rufus said. Charlotte's eyes widened in fear. She didn't know if Rufus knew that Roger had no idea about Joe being his father.

"Joe? I don't know no Joe. I do know Rollie. He's a swell fella," Roger said, then tottered over to the sofa and plopped down. He grabbed the dishtowel that had fallen on the floor. "What's this doin' here?" he asked and threw it into the kitchen.

"Roger... go to your room," Charlotte demanded, and pointed her finger for emphasis.

"Naw, I want some dinner first," he said.

"You missed dinner. Again."

"There has to be some leftovers or something. I'm famished, Mom," he said, sounding, for the first time, like the boy he was.

"You should probably listen to your mother," Rufus said, anger in his voice. That a grandson of his would be so disrespectful!

"Beat it bub, this ain't none of your business," Roger shot back.

"Roger!" Charlotte exclaimed again. Roger talked right over her, asking, "Just who do you think you are, anyway?"

As the boy staggered to his feet, Rufus replied in a calm voice, "I'm your grandfather, you fool boy."

Roger looked at him quizzically, then fell back onto the sofa, and stared at Rufus for a moment. Another moment passed in silence. Charlotte was too stunned to speak, Rufus too angry to speak and Roger... well, he just fell asleep and began snoring.

"Oh, dear lord," Charlotte said and began apologizing to Rufus, explaining that Roger had been spending time with some men she believed to be mobsters. Roger claimed they were just businessmen and that his "job" was delivering meat, but he always had a lot of money on him and no one made a lot of money delivering pork chops to the housewives of Hoboken.

"He didn't know, did he?" Rufus asked.

Charlotte shook her head.

"Well... he might not remember this anyway. But if he does, and if you need me to straighten him out... you call me," Rufus said. He handed her his card. "His father was a bit of a hellion too, and my wife and I kept him on the straight and narrow... mostly... I reckon we can help you with this here youngster if need be."

Charlotte looked dubious but thanked Rufus anyway. As she led him to the door, she asked him not to tell her father about what had transpired.

"You sure about that? Your father is one of the best men I know," Rufus told her.

"Yes, he is, and that's why I don't want him to know his youngest grandson is a hoodlum in training," she replied.

Rufus put his hand on Charlotte's shoulder. "He'll be fine. He's half-Theobald and half-Barrell," Rufus said. Then he grinned broadly and added, "And that ain't half-bad!"

Charlotte chuckled despite herself. She prayed Rufus was right.

.