One of New Papas annoying little quirks was locking the refrigerator and freezer when there were grandchildren on the grounds. He maintained a large keyboard on the wall in the kitchen with more than a 150 keys hanging on it... all types of keys that had accumulated over the decades. There in lied the brilliance of his strategy: little fake grandchildren high on the sugar from his Donald Duck limeade would not have the focus to search the keyboard for the freezer key. The sad reality was that he had us hooked on Donald Duck limeade and stale vanilla wafers from the second we walked in the door. We were as helpless as a wino on Mad Dog 20/20.
Our first major “Farm” transgression occurred on a hot sleepless July night, when Toad, our 3rd oldest cousin, had planned an after hours “field trip” to the kitchen for ice cream. It was an endeavor that would never have crossed our minds if the freezer had not been locked. The fact that it was locked, presented some interesting challenges which could not be ignored and in the end, we were no match for the call of the forbidden. Although Toad was accustomed to working alone on these clandestine operations, he gave in against his better judgment and agreed to take along his ten younger cousins. Among the instructions Toad gave us was the order not to have any Donald Duck Limeade after dinner. Toad assembled us at the appointed hour; the “first” strike of 11. The o’clock hours were always loud events because the house had several grandfather clocks that were never quite in sync. Toad had determined that it would take all of the clocks 94 seconds to complete their eleven o’clock chimes. This would muffle the unavoidable noise the eleven of us would make, and allow ample time to get to the kitchen undetected. We would have time to find our key to the freezer, eat our ice cream, leave a sink full of dishes, and return under the noise of the mid-night clocks. He gave us each a job, which for most of us was to form a firemen’s line from the keyboard to the freezer. The keyboard was located near the dining room doorway. The kitchen at night was no exception to the day - the marmalade cats were asleep on the 2 shelves beneath the counter and the silver pitcher was at its station with water and fresh ice…a disregarded omen.
Before being dispatched to our appointed positions, Toad delivered the most emotionally charged and inspiring speech I had heard to date in my short life. Little did I know, every coach I would subsequently have, would plagiarize his famous speech. He talked about a chain being only as strong as its weakest link. We all silently thought that our weakest link was “Little Sinner” who at age five, was the youngest. We did not consider that Little Sinner came with battle experience. She routinely stayed up late Saturday nights watching the “Double Chiller” horror show with her older sister Looper and brother Stain. It would take a lot more than Freddy Krueger to scare Little Sinner.
Penn and my brother Jack, seemingly the bravest, (although in retrospect that too was elusive) were the lookouts at the doorways on each side of the kitchen. Most of us were clearly uncomfortable working in the pitch black but Toad had warned us ahead of time that the mission’s success was absolutely dependent on working under the cloak of darkness. If that bothered any of us, Penn and Jack suggested that perhaps we were too worthless to be there. Being the tenth of thirteen grandchildren, I was no stranger to motivation through fear and intimidation. At that moment I knew it would be better to risk death on “Operation Ice Cream” then remain in the bedroom alone and risk a visit from the ghost of Mrs. Cleaver who haunted the house. I had never seen her but I had heard her many times. The danger was real.
“Operation Ice Cream” worked in flawless harmony as we tried the first 40 -50 keys. After that, we were never quite sure what went wrong.... it could have been the increasing sense of frustration that grew as we tested the second 50 keys without a fit and the resulting boredom that caused Penn and Jack to let their vigilance stray. Or perhaps it was the screech the cat let out when Chip stepped on his tail. Finally, at key #103 it appeared as though Toad struck ice cream. The noise in the room stopped with the click of the freezer lock, and was replaced by the din of eleven hearts pounding.... Time stood still. After what seemed like an eternity of savoring the moment, Toad lifted the freezer door and the light inside exploded out blinding us like a car’s headlights.
I’m not quite sure what happened next but one thing was certain…. It was not Toad’s cousins’ finest hour. As Toad reached for the carton of coffee ice cream, it was clearly a moment where “the odd got even” - We saw New Papa materialize out of nowhere and wallop Toad on the rear, on what was the spank heard round the world. From that moment on, Toad was alone because principles and camaraderie succumbed to the most basic instincts for survival. The remaining ten of us didn’t wait to see if Toad would cheat death. We scattered like ghetto rats, never looking back.
As we regrouped in the girl’s wing, trembling in bed, I remember Looper asking if we thought Toad would take us on another mission again. Marigold wondered out loud if we would ever see Toad again. Every trip to the farm passed the Ferris School for Wayward boys. Jen pointed out that wayward boys started by pinching ice cream.
The next morning the 8 am breakfast buzzer went off as it had every other morning. We cautiously headed to the dining porch. We were going to be embarrassed if Toad was there, and terrified if he wasn’t. As we cautiously took our places at the table, Toad’s chair was conspicuous by his absence. We glanced around at each other all thinking the same thing….at least his chair was still there. New Papa was at the head of the table and started serving plates of toast and eggs. Then without warning the kitchen door flew open and Toad strutted in asking who wanted to join him with some coffee. There were cheers and giant sighs of relief.
The incident was not mentioned by New Papa, but we all regrouped at the hammock after breakfast. In retrospect, that was what was so amazing about Toad. He never reprimanded us for desertion. Instead, he took all of the blame, telling us that he had not adequately trained us for the mission and he promised that there would be more covert operations that summer…..He was working on plans to haul ice to the murky swimming pool to slow down the metabolism of the resident snapping turtle. Toad said adding ice to the pool might keep him from claiming a grandchild. He had also created some blue prints to build a ghost trap to catch Mrs. Cleaver. Life was good and it would be a busy summer.
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