Right and Might
Albert’s face was pressed against the ground, the other boy on top pinning him down. He knew what he had to do.
The conflict started some weeks ago at the local newspaper shack where Albert delivered. It was an afternoon paper, except Sundays, which was a morning delivery. He hated getting up at 4 am, but if you didn’t go down to the shack to collect your alloted amount of papers in time you might be short. Someone may have taken a few or you could have been given less than your correct amount. The only to way to make sure was to be there when they were handed out by the manager paperboys, the Leggett brothers.
Many of the paper routes were large, as many as 100 customers stretched over a rural community and some newer apartment developments. Albert’s was over 80 subscribers in a several mile radius. When papers were large, like on Sundays, he used a three wheeled cart for delivery. During the week they were thin enough for just the paper shoulder bag and bicycle.
This route was his first job, he took it seriously. He never delivered late. At the end of the month, he would diligently collect subscription fees from customers so the newspaper would get their funds on time. After, he’d keep ten percent as contracted for his pay.
The Leggett brothers had the largest route in the district. Their father frequently drove them down in a station wagon to help out. He was a short stocky man, whose swagger and authority his sons did their best to imitate. The other paperboys were assorted blue-collar kids from the neighborhood who kept out of the Leggett’s way, since they had developed a reputation not to be challenged. Only one paperboy, Leber, had voiced opposition. Recently he’d been attacked, beaten with wood clubs weighted with lead at the striking end. Mr. Leggett watched from the car while his two sons made the assault.
Albert knew Leber. The reason for the beef: there was no set time for the paper shack to open each day. The Leggetts kept the paperboys waiting and guessing when they would show up. They were never very late, but they could also be early, so you had to get there well before or risk finding your paper count short. When the Leggetts arrived, they’d open the shack, get their papers first, then hand out the others. They wore the smiles of Roman occupiers. They knew they were boss.
Albert was new to this job and he decided to join the opposition. He felt what was going on wasn’t right.
“Why don’t you set a time the paper shack opens each day so we know when to come?” he said.
“Why should we? Things are fine the way they are now,” said Burt.
“We come real early and wait for a long time, especially if you show up late. If we had a set time we’d know when to come.”
“That’s the way it is. You don’t tell us what to do.”
“Does the district manager know you come whenever you want?”
Burt gave Albert a cross look, “Are you trying to start trouble?”
Now the father got involved. He stepped to the shack doorway and leaned out.
“You better not make waves for five good reasons,” he said. Each of these reasons closed one at a time until all were clenched into a fist.
Albert called the district manager, Mr. Pendall, and told him what was going on. Pendall said he would have a word with the Leggetts.
The next Sunday after the Leggetts got their newspapers, they proceeded to give them out to the others. When Albert’s turn came they passed him by handing out the next guy’s and the next.
“It’s my turn now. I arrived before Peter,” he said.
The Leggetts ignored him. The younger brother, Vale, started grinning, he knew what was coming. The older brother, Burt, was just waiting for the right moment. It came.
“I want my papers. It’s my turn now!” he demanded.
Burt jumped out of the shack and started punching Albert, who hit the ground. The station wagon’s headlights acted like theater spotlights illuminating this one sided brawl. Albert didn’t fight back, just rolled wherever Burt shoved him, until he was pinned to the ground.
Albert thought to himself, this is so stupid, I am not interested in fighting, this doesn’t prove who is right. If Burt wasn’t enough to beat me up, then his brother would join in, and then if necessary the dad. They’d all gang up. You can’t win, so you better apologize. There is nothing else to do.
“All right, I’m sorry, I apologize,” he said.
There was almost disappointed and resigned boredom in his voice. Burt let him up from the ground. The Leggetts beamed with victory. Finally they gave Albert his papers.
His friend Tim, said, “It looked like you almost had him there for a moment.”
Albert sighed and replied, “He kicked my ass and that’s that.”
After finishing his route, Albert went home. He decided it was best to adjust quickly to this unfortunate event. There was no sense in feeling bad about it. He was outnumbered and the other paperboys weren’t going to get involved. It was a very important life lesson. There would be other times when he’d have to go along to get along. This behavior isn’t brave, isn’t right, but sometimes it’s the only way to survive.
People like to think they’ll stand up for what’s right when the time comes. It’s a brave notion, but when faced with an overpowering force, a force all too happy to see you throw yourself into its gears over a principal, then you have to decide whether it’s best to risk breaking or bend like a branch in the wind.
Albert learned to bend and tried to let go the memory of defeat, but it stayed with him all his life.
End