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Authors: Alan Brennert
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no-show, and Eddie had to stock the shelves by himself. It wasn’t until eleven thirty that Eddie found out why, when Anna Halpin herself appeared unexpectedly at the stand and announced, “You’re Eddie, right? Lew’s having his appendix taken out. Show me what he does.”
“What?”
She entered the stand through the side door. “Show me what he does, I’ll fill in for him until Chief Borrell can find somebody else to bring in.”
Eddie was momentarily nonplussed. “Uh, Mrs. Halpin, you’re going to get your nice dress all sticky and dirty.”
She just laughed. “If I cared a hoot about that I wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in this business. I’ve handled a popcorn popper before but not a candy floss machine—show me how it works.”
Eddie did as he was asked, Mrs. Halpin observing as he put in a batch of sugar and pink food coloring, then switched on the heater and set the spinner to spinning. Halpin had a plain, serious face, but she smiled a little when the liquefied sugar was forced out of the spinner’s holes: “Like a pasta maker,” she said, “only with pink pasta.” He demonstrated how to capture the pink strands on a stick, making an artful cloud of sugared cumulus. She nodded once, said, “Okay, I’ve got it,” and made the next batch on her own, letter perfect. By the time the park opened at noon there were the requisite number of cotton candies in the display case waiting to be snapped up.
Eddie went into his grind, Mrs. Halpin working the counter, until his throat started to get sore and Anna stepped in and took over, even if she did have to stand on a couple of phone books at the counter:
“Cotton candy!” she cried out to the crowd. “Sweeter than a mother’s kisses, lighter than a cloud! Get your cotton candy here, heaven on a stick!”
Goddamn, Eddie thought: she could actually build a tip. The stand enjoyed brisk business for the next hour; finally, during a lull, Eddie told her, “Nice grind. You’ve done this before?”
“Oh, I’ve done a little of everything,” she said. “I started out working for my uncles at Savin Rock Park as a cashier. I carried change to the concessionaires, but I made it a point to watch every concession agent and ride operator to see how he did his job. By the time I became manager I could pinch-hit on almost anything, if need be.”
“The rides, too?”
“Sure. I worked the Whip, the Water Scooter, the Airplane Swings … I may be small but I’m no weak sister.” Now Eddie realized: she wasn’t trying to catch Palisades’ ride operators lying down on the job, she wanted to see how they did their job. “It’s been a while since I’ve worked a grab stand, though. The past few years I was boxing promoter at Golden City Park Arena.”
“You were?” he said, doing his best not to sound disbelieving.
She smiled at the skepticism in his voice. “We had a few comers we brought up at Golden City. Canada Lee, Tony Canzoneri…”
“Canzoneri? The guy who beat Lou Ambers for the lightweight title?”
Anna nodded. “Eddie, you know what I was going to be when I grew up? A piano teacher.” She laughed. “Imagine that—me teaching kids to play ‘Chopsticks’ all day. I met my husband at that park too—that cashier’s job was the best thing that could have happened to me.”
A customer stepped up to buy a cotton candy, another asked for popcorn, and that was their last chance for small talk for the rest of the morning. By midafternoon Chief Borrell had brought in a man from one of his hot-dog stands to take Lew’s place until he recuperated from his appendectomy. Eddie actually found himself sorry to see Anna return to the front office.
“Thanks, Mrs. Halpin,” he said. “You can work my stand anytime.”
“I’m here if you need me, Eddie,” she told him—and he believed her. It wouldn’t take her long to win over the remaining doubters.
* * *
Monday, July 1, was warm and sunny, a perfect day for the
“What?”
She entered the stand through the side door. “Show me what he does, I’ll fill in for him until Chief Borrell can find somebody else to bring in.”
Eddie was momentarily nonplussed. “Uh, Mrs. Halpin, you’re going to get your nice dress all sticky and dirty.”
She just laughed. “If I cared a hoot about that I wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in this business. I’ve handled a popcorn popper before but not a candy floss machine—show me how it works.”
Eddie did as he was asked, Mrs. Halpin observing as he put in a batch of sugar and pink food coloring, then switched on the heater and set the spinner to spinning. Halpin had a plain, serious face, but she smiled a little when the liquefied sugar was forced out of the spinner’s holes: “Like a pasta maker,” she said, “only with pink pasta.” He demonstrated how to capture the pink strands on a stick, making an artful cloud of sugared cumulus. She nodded once, said, “Okay, I’ve got it,” and made the next batch on her own, letter perfect. By the time the park opened at noon there were the requisite number of cotton candies in the display case waiting to be snapped up.
Eddie went into his grind, Mrs. Halpin working the counter, until his throat started to get sore and Anna stepped in and took over, even if she did have to stand on a couple of phone books at the counter:
“Cotton candy!” she cried out to the crowd. “Sweeter than a mother’s kisses, lighter than a cloud! Get your cotton candy here, heaven on a stick!”
Goddamn, Eddie thought: she could actually build a tip. The stand enjoyed brisk business for the next hour; finally, during a lull, Eddie told her, “Nice grind. You’ve done this before?”
“Oh, I’ve done a little of everything,” she said. “I started out working for my uncles at Savin Rock Park as a cashier. I carried change to the concessionaires, but I made it a point to watch every concession agent and ride operator to see how he did his job. By the time I became manager I could pinch-hit on almost anything, if need be.”
“The rides, too?”
“Sure. I worked the Whip, the Water Scooter, the Airplane Swings … I may be small but I’m no weak sister.” Now Eddie realized: she wasn’t trying to catch Palisades’ ride operators lying down on the job, she wanted to see how they did their job. “It’s been a while since I’ve worked a grab stand, though. The past few years I was boxing promoter at Golden City Park Arena.”
“You were?” he said, doing his best not to sound disbelieving.
She smiled at the skepticism in his voice. “We had a few comers we brought up at Golden City. Canada Lee, Tony Canzoneri…”
“Canzoneri? The guy who beat Lou Ambers for the lightweight title?”
Anna nodded. “Eddie, you know what I was going to be when I grew up? A piano teacher.” She laughed. “Imagine that—me teaching kids to play ‘Chopsticks’ all day. I met my husband at that park too—that cashier’s job was the best thing that could have happened to me.”
A customer stepped up to buy a cotton candy, another asked for popcorn, and that was their last chance for small talk for the rest of the morning. By midafternoon Chief Borrell had brought in a man from one of his hot-dog stands to take Lew’s place until he recuperated from his appendectomy. Eddie actually found himself sorry to see Anna return to the front office.
“Thanks, Mrs. Halpin,” he said. “You can work my stand anytime.”
“I’m here if you need me, Eddie,” she told him—and he believed her. It wouldn’t take her long to win over the remaining doubters.
* * *
Monday, July 1, was warm and sunny, a perfect day for the
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