Charity Fundraising - 9. Chapter 9

Most of the crowd is parents with kids. They look towards us apologetically then start dragging the kids away.

On the other hand, the frat brothers who seem to have gotten the word that we can wait ‘til the fire department flushes us out start rushing the process. A couple who have already thrown run around to help shag balls at the tank; they form sort of a fire brigade. A couple more come around and start filing pie plates. They pull all the pledges except Ray (in the tank) into a line IN FRONT OF the pie stand. Since they’ve covered all of the other bases for us I let that happen.

I see a female fire fighter (would that be a fire woman?) coming my way. While she is still fifteen yards off I hold up my hands to her. When I’ve gotten her attention I change my right hand into the “little bit more” sign, reinforced by shrugging my head and closing one eye. She sees the flurry of activity, nods and heads off to another booth.

Dan makes his way over to where I am.

“I’m really bummed for you. I know we brought money to play, but I'm sure it isn’t enough to make the other half of your goal.”

“Thanks. I’m not giving up hope until the final count. But I am worried about it.”

“We’ll definitely help you break down. What do we need to do with the tank?”

“Just open the drain. The rental company will come get it later.”

“Cool.” He waited a couple beats. “I was really curious about how you were going to get me into the tank too.”

I blink a couple times. In less time than it will take you to read this I recall one of my shticks with the kids. You know how when you shake someone’s hand, you grasp the hand, go up and down once or twice then release. Sometimes, I’ll just keep holding and shaking until the kid starts yanking to get his hand away. It’s almost always good for a laugh with them. I wonder whether it will work as a mousetrap.

I shake Dan’s hand.

“So, did you find everything in order?”

“Sure did. Did you have any problems at all with the pledges?”

“Nope - they’ve been great.”

Dan starts to notice that I am still shaking his hand.

I turn to the firing line. “Chuck, Tiny, have you got a second?”

Like a flash, they are at my side - shaving cream and all.

“Dan here, he’s your pledge captain, right?”

They nod.

I continue shaking Dan’s hand. Dan is trying to get loose.

“And normally, you have to do what he says, right?”

They nod some more.

I tighten my grip.

Dan looks at me. I think he’s giving up.

“Except today, when you have to do what I say, right?”

They stop nodding, but their eyebrows go up. Dan swears.

“Now that’s not a good example for the impressionable young men you’re leading, is it? Guys, take him to the tank, and wash his mouth out with soap on the way.”

By now, nobody is around but fraternity guys. I’m not losing any public sales, and the upperclassmen are still paying to throw at the pledges. George is watching Dan’s futile struggles with the bouncers of the pledge class, who have figured out they are wearing enough cream that they don’t need a side trip to the pie table. Dan isn’t protesting; rather he is keeping his mouth shut to prevent a deposit of soap. I sneak over to the firing line and pull out the gold medalist and the source of colored eggs.

We go behind the pie stand. “If you were to, hypothetically speaking of course, sneak up and grab George while he is busy watching Dan, someone might be willing to say you were ordered to do it.”

I look around for the fire department. She seems to have shut everyone else down. I see her meandering slowly in our direction. “But you’d better hurry up about it.”

I hear thunder again. It briefly occurs to me that this is only the second time. Everyone looks at me. Dan is almost on the seat. “Do it fast,” he tells me and settles himself.

“Yo!” I call out to everyone. The fire department is there, but I hold up an index finger to her. “We’re about to be shut down, but first I want to express my appreciation to the Pi Iota Epsilon pledge class for helping me. Also, to this fine gentleman here who selected them and sent them my way.”

I wave towards Dan.

“You are most welcome,” he replies. “I'm glad we could -”

At that point I decide to clean his soap off for him.

Again, there was much rejoicing.

As Dan emerges from the depths sputtering, the fire department finally has her say. “All right, y’all are shut down. No more dawdling. Get out of the water, for heaven’s sake, before you get me fired!” We take her at her word vacating and opening the drain on the tank. Still, it is clear she enjoyed the show too.

“Hey! No! Stop! Mphrrrg!” George is now disappearing in a cloud of white. And it’s not just pledges doing it - or even getting it done to them. John seems to be missing out on the fun, however. He’s assigned himself the job of protect the unopened shaving cream cans, bless him.

Duh! What’s my first job here, anyway? I trust these guys but I’m supposed to be protecting the cash from passersby!

I snag the proceeds at the tank table then the pie table and take them to the truck. After depositing them in the front seat I lock the doors and come back to supervise the booth break down. The nearly nude former Easter Bunny waves me off. “We’ve got this. You count!”

I just love these guys. I would have expected the shaving cream fight to go on for a while without intervention, but they’ve already broken it up and started taking banners down. “Okay, great! Umm, I need one of those tables before you fold it.”

I turn back to the truck and somehow the table beats me to it.

Counting money is a lot more fun when it’s yours, but I have incentive and this is the moment of truth. Separate bills into denominations. Wrap stacks. Oh, yeah, take out the start money. Ignore all the junk banging into the truck - they’ve got it covered. Hmm. Roll the quarters. I can do the dimes & such later, they won’t add much.

“Excuse me.”

Dave #2 is standing by the table. “Some of us didn’t get a chance to play. Here’s what we would have paid you.”

He hands me a couple hundred dollars.

Now you can’t cry in front of these guys.

“Sorry - I hope we didn’t mess up your count.”

Really, you can’t cry.

Breathe.

“Not at all. Thanks!”

It’s still not going to be enough, but we’ve gotten amazingly close.

“Sir?”

Now Dave #1 is by the table. “Yes.”

“We’re done cleaning up. The upperclassmen are leaving but the pledges and their captains are going to wait for you.”

“Thank you so much for coming and helping. I really appreciate it, and so do the boys at the center.”

“No worries. Oh, and by the way, Joe speaks for all of us.”

He turns away without further explanation.

As my eyes follow him, I notice the back of the truck is full and the booths are as empty as they were when we got here. I also notice, however, that all of the pledge uniforms are still in the cab of the truck. That’s odd.

Anyway, I total up the figures on a sheet of paper, put all the cash in a deposit bag and secure it in the glove compartment.

I text Ben the bad news.

Slowly I make my way to the back of the truck. The boys break up their huddle and arc around me, all looking anxious.

“You guys will never know how much I appreciate all you did today. I had a great time. So did the kids, and we were able to raise a bunch of money for them.”

They could read it on my face. Dan asks me, “How close did we get?”

“Well, I didn’t count the change and that bank will have to double-check. I may be off by five or ten bucks, but the count, after taking out the start money, was approximately $1,040.00.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Not quite the $1,235.73 we needed, but awfully close. I’m so grateful. Especially after the extra $200 y’all gave me.”

The start exchanging glances and don’t look quite as disappointed as I expect.

“Yeah, about that,” says Dan. “Umm, that wasn’t us.”

“It wasn’t? But Dave said . . .”

“Yeah, he told me about it. That was just the upperclassmen.”

“Oh, well thanks for all the hard work. And pass my thanks along to them for the money.”

Now Joe speaks up. “Scott, we have a proposition.”

I look up at the sky. It enters my mind that the storm may be going around us after all. Perhaps the thunder was just a false alarm. I look back at Joe.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We’ve taken up a collection. Just among us. But you have to earn it.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred and fifteen dollars.” Ray nudges him. “Okay, okay, and twelve cents.”

Breathe.

Don’t cry.

Wait! What do I have to do?

I suppose I should ask.

“What do I have to do?”

“Well, it’s not so much what you have to do as what you have to not do?”

“Okay, so what do I have to not do?”

“Hit, kick, or bite anyone.”

“I think I can do that.”

“You sure?” Joe cocks his head to the side.

“Umm, yeah!”

“Deal?” Joe asks.

“Okay, deal,” I answer.

“Get him, guys.”

They all rush me. John’s warning suddenly comes back to me. They pull down my shorts carefully but rip my shirt to shreds.

And they’ve apparently held back some of the cans of shaving cream. I can’t quite keep track of 18 hands smearing the stuff all over me.

Gosh, if they had asked I would have let them do this for free. But I’m not complaining. They made the goal for me and I’m too distracted to cry.

When they’re done, I make to give Joe a hug. He actually lets me. Then I make for Ray. He stops me, which I find surprising. But it’s only to put more cream on me first. Then he hugs me.

We repeat this ritual for everyone. They all thank me and tell me “Great job!” or the like. I hug John last. He holds me longer than the others and can only whisper, “You have no idea!”

Turns out they didn’t put the hose away yet either. We all rinse off. I put on a fresh set of clothes while they pull their uniforms back on. When I offer to give them the speedo back later, Joe tells me they don’t want my cooties. He hands me a check for the amount of the deal. “We didn’t actually bring the cash, but I came prepared.”

I’m speechless but nod my thanks. As I turn to go, Joe interrupts me again.

“So, what’s next, boss?”

Hmmm.

“Well, I think we’re done here. Have a great Saturday evening. I hope y’all have a good party planned - you’ve definitely earned it.”

“We do, and you’re invited. But that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we all want to volunteer. How do we sign up?”

Breathe.

Wait, what did Dave say to me?

“Umm, Dave was saying something about you speaking for them?”

“Yeah, they all want to volunteer too.”

Okay, you can cry now.