Photo by Mathieu Turle / Unsplash

This is the second part of a two-part story. If you missed the first part, you will find it HERE.

Buddha Boy and Kid Pony laid in the bushes for what seemed an eternity. They could not get caught, because what Frosty had said was true. First the police would be involved. Then their parents. Then Father Joe. It was not a future scenario either wanted to face. Frosty’s mother was a small Irish woman who could melt you with her stare and burn you with her tongue. Though she liked Kid Pony, she would not take kindly to him involving her sweet innocent in a caper like this. Frosty’s father was a big Russian-Polish man who could knock you 10 feet with the swipe of his hand. NOOOO. There was no way they were gonna get caught.

After a time the two leftovers emerged. They continued with their plan and soon the trunk and back seat were filled with soda cases filled with large bottles. They took more out and hid them by the side of the road. This action would take two trips!

Down to the Spanish Bull. Cash in the cases full and back for more. They went back. And, back again.

“Should we give any of the loot to Buns?” asked Pony. “Nah,” said Buddha, “he screwed up and he didn’t do anything. It’s a two-way split my man “

And, what a split it was! Each of the bandits pocketed half a hundred. They were ecstatic! “El Toro! El Toro! El Toro!” they shouted as the adrenalin took hold and once they were back at The Barn celebrating their score, they ran around with arms out like airplanes until they fell breathless on the little hill and laughed and laughed about their latest adventure. Of course, they were going to tell no one.

And, of course, by the next day everyone knew, OR surmised.

It was the only time they hit Arslanian’s, though they did pull the caper a few more times at other stores. One, where they brought cases in the front door to exchange for cash and then later went around the back and boosted the same cases over again to sell back to the same store. Of course, they were full of themselves after that one.

Their bravado. Their dash. Their boldness. Their pizzazz. (And, of course, as they realized later in life, their stupidity). It was fun while it lasted.

Soon after the three boys parted ways. The teen years were over and they had to mature some and move on.

Frosty went in the service then to college where he was a two-sport star in tennis and track. Later he would become a teaching tennis pro. Buddha Boy became a carpenter and made enough money to retire to Arizona, where he plays a lot of golf.

Kid Pony went to college, played some football and later went on to open a small gym

in Las Vegas. Whenever he sees a rack of soda bottles, he laughs and thinks of the night at Arslanian’s, The Spanish Bull, and the quick score. He is laughing as this is being written.

Author’s Note: Being Rhode Island, the nicknames in the story are not spoken as they are written. Buddhaboy, Frostybuns and Kidpony would all come out fast, slurred and almost one word. Many times only half the name was used, like Buns, or Buddha or Pony. The boys do want to say a one word to Mr. Arslanian (not his real name): “Sorry.”

Bruce Mastracchio grew up in East Greenwich, where he experienced those 28-hour days and 8-day weeks that contained the magic that made his hometown so special. Included in all that were the numerous characters that added color to the local life and produced many of Bruce’s remarkable stories.