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Pocket Money

Written by John and Patti Friend

Kloee glared at Emery, as Dakota held up a dried cob. "So this is the big deal you found to get us some extra money?" Kloee and her kin were meeting in Papaw Murray's barn because it was the one place they could go without some adult looking over their shoulders. Kin in this case meant her brother Emery, her sister Dakota, little brother Zackie, and sort-of-cousins Freddie Bates, Franz Meyers-Bates, Wilhelm Engling-Bates, called WB, and Sybella Doebling-Bates, who everyone just called Sybie. Some up-timer, some down-timer, but all family.

"You know that me and Emery go with Papaw Murray when he goes out," Dakota said proudly. "Well, Papaw's friends, the Knapps, kind of pick up something for him. And that got me an idea how to make some money." A conspiratorial look appeared on Dakota's face. When no one asked her what the Knapps bought for her grandfather, she blurted, "Tobacco! Papaw smokes when he ain't home and Granny Murray can't catch him."

Kloee laughed. "Like Granny Murray don't know everything Papaw does. Papaw ain't half as smart as he thinks."

"So what does a dried-up, broken corncob have to do with anything?" Franz asked.

"Well, how do you think Papaw smokes his tobacco?" Dakota responded sharply. "Ain't you heard anyone complain about no paper fit to roll cigarettes or how expensive pipes are?"

Freddie tugged at the skull-and-cross-bone earring he wore. "Sure," he mumbled. "I hear that sorta thing from Frau Meyers. She has bugged Papa about finding a way to make paper for cigarettes."

"Okay, Dakota, go ahead and tell us how a no-good, broken corncob's going to make us some spending money," Kloee ordered. She was rewarded with an icy stare from Dakota.

"Well, Papaw says that down-timer pipes is too expensive and he just holla's out an ol' corncob and a elderberry twig and makes his own pipe. Don't cost nothin' to make and lasts awhile."

"I don't think we can make money that way," said Sybie.

"Sure we can," WB interjected. "Papa says that there are lots of people smoking tobacco 'cause the English, French, Dutch, and Spanish is all growing and selling it right now and ain't a lot a people saying it ain't good for you."

"I don't know," Kloee said. "How we going to sell them if we do make them? I don't know no one that smokes and I sure ain't gonna stand on a corner in Grantville and sell them." Becoming a street vendor would be very undignified and spoil her image in school. After all, she was fourteen now and had an image to maintain. She wasn't like Dakota, who kept her hair cropped short and dressed like a boy. Besides, selling pipes at school would be a quick way to get expelled. That wasn't happening, either. She could just see her friends buying corncob pipes and smoking. How gross would that be?

"We make them and my grandmother can sell them," Franz said proudly.

"Sure; and the Hun will take all the money and save it for us, too," Freddie added scornfully. Frau Meyers showed each of them the money she put into their own accounts every month—accounts they couldn't touch. She even put half their allowances into the bank for them. Mama Margaretha thinking it was a great idea and Papa not wanting to go against Frau Meyers on the matter of banking didn't help, either.

"Don't call my grandmother 'the Hun,'" Franz snapped. His peevishness drew snickers from WB and Sybie.

"I don't want old Frau Meyers managing my money or anything else," Dakota spoke up. "I don't care if she is Franz's granny, she's a nasty old woman."

"We need something we can make and sell ourselves so we can buy some things we want." Kloee commented in order to head off a battle between Franz, Freddie, and Dakota and because she could think of a bunch of things she wanted that no one would buy for her or give her the money for right now. It seemed she would have to make the money to buy them herself.

Her comment had been too little too late. The meeting broke down when everyone started yelling and arguing. Freddie and Franz were near blows over comments about Frau Meyers. Sybie and Dakota were arguing about the way a girl should act at school—nothing to do with money at all. WB was just sitting off to the side, looking irritated and ready to leave.

"Enough!" Kloee yelled. "Let's just get back to the stupid pipes." If the bickering kept up, Granny Murray would be out here, giving all of them grief.

"Good. I'm tired of this squabbling," WB said. "Go ahead, Dakota."

Kloee's sister smiled at the fourteen-year-old boy. Dakota had a nice smile and it wasn't lost on WB.

"Okay, this is how this works," Dakota began. "You have to have a good corncob to start with. Just any old cob ain't gonna do."

"Papaw says it needs to be from something like the corn Granny Murray and Auntie Phyllis grow, not from some of that big fancy stuff that everyone else likes to raise. Anyways, the corn has to be barely ripe, not full yet. You gotta get the corn off the cob, dry the cob good, and then holler it out like this." For the purpose of demonstration, Dakota broke out her pocket knife and started removing the pithy inside portion of the half cob.

"Papaw told Emery that all the soft stuff had to come out. Course, you can't get all the soft stuff out; that's why someone's gonna hafta smoke each pipe a couple of times to burn it out."

Kloee felt herself turn green. She and Cherie had tried a cigarette and both had become violently sick, possibly because the cigarette was yellow with age and had come from an old pack one of the other girls had found; but whatever the cause, her experience had convinced her that smoking wasn't cool.

"I can do that," Freddie volunteered.

Trust Freddie Bates to do something gross, Kloee thought. Of course, Freddie was almost sixteen and no one was going give him any crap about smoking.

Dakota held up a piece of wire and a thin branch from an elderberry bush. "This is the part that's tricky. You have to get the wire really hot and push it into the stem. The branch has to be the right size with enough of a soft inside for the wire to burn out.

"You can burn yourself real good if you pick up the hot wire. Emery sure did when he made his own pipe. Just wait 'til Papaw or Mama Melodie catch him with it."

Kloee didn't think that would take long for Emery to get caught.

". . . the stem down so it fits tight in the hole in the cob," Dakota was saying. "Papaw says you don't want smoke leakin' 'cause the pipe won't draw right if the stem don't fit tight."

The meeting's discipline broke down again when everyone pushed forward to see the finished pipe Dakota had put together earlier. Maybe her sister wasn't so dumb after all, thought Kloee. Dakota had put the presentation together as neatly as a science demonstration at school.

As much Kloee hated to say it, Dakota might have something with her pipe. It sure wouldn't cost anything to make and there were six of them to do the work in their free time. The only problem was how to sell them.

The answer kept coming back to Frau Meyers; and Freddie was right, Frau Meyers wasn't a good person to get involved with. Maybe she could get Helene away from her job and boyfriend long enough to talk to her grandmother and fix it so Frau Meyers didn't mess them up.

"We have to get the cobs pretty quick," Dakota said. "If we wait much longer, the corn will be too ripe and the cobs won't be any good. "

Acquiring the corn would be another job for her, Kloee realized. They would have to have Granny Murray's or Auntie Phyllis' permission to harvest some of the corn early. She would have to negotiate some sort of work trade with them. After all, the corn not only fed everyone, it was also one of their major cash crops. She was the only one who would be able to work this out. Maybe she could catch Helene Monday after school. She could talk to Granny Murray today. Tomorrow wouldn't be a good time. After church, Granny Murray would be all religious and set in her ways worse than normal, making her down on anything dealing with tobacco.

The discussion went on for another hour before Granny Murray called them in to lunch. They wouldn't see each other tomorrow. Everyone would be at their churches.

***

Kloee helped Granny Murray wash the dishes from lunch. The other members of the infant Murray-Bates Pipe Company, except for Freddie, had taken off to play "What Time Is It, Mr. Fox." Freddie had taken off to help Uncle JJ work on his water wheel. One of these days, the thing would work the way he wanted it to. He had another car generator he wanted to hook to it. The old one had burned out for some reason.

"Grandma Murray, can I ask a big favor of you?" Kloee began.

Doreen Murray smiled. "So that's why you volunteered to help me clean up after your sister and friends."

Kloee wanted to protest her innocence but knew better than to fib to Granny Murray. Granny had no tolerance for fibbing. "Grandma Murray, we want to make money besides our chore money and we have a way. We need help from you and Auntie Phyllis, though. We want to make corncob pipes and need permission to harvest some of your corn."

Kloee braced herself for Granny's tirade about the evils of tobacco and the hell fire and damnation that accompanied its use. That lecture rated right next to drinking moonshine and listening to non-religious music.

Kloee wasn't disappointed. Granny Murray filled her ears with how those who smoked and chewed were accepting the Devil's temptation, and that led to worse things. Things a girl her age shouldn't be exposed to.

After twenty minutes of Kloee pledging not to ever do any of the things she was condemning, Granny Murray agreed to allow them to harvest a little of the corn early. But they were not to use the pipes themselves. Well, Freddie Bates could; but only because he was a godless heathen like his Papa JJ. It was bad enough they were helping sinners go to hell and burn in eternal fire, but they didn't need to accept temptation.

Granny Murray smiled. "Make sure you have someone sell plenty of pipes to them godless heathen that hang around the bars and taverns in Grantville," she said. "They can't get no worse. They're already on the road to ruin. Don't none of you go around them places though."

Granny Murray was on a roll again and Kloee braced herself once more. She was relieved to finally dry the last dish and head for home.

Monday Afternoon

Kloee shifted the backpack to make it more comfortable. She was trying to work up the courage to enter the exchange. She peeked through the large window of the building and saw Helene putting out the lamp on her desk. It looked like she was getting ready to leave for the day, so Kloee waited by the door for her oldest cousin to exit the building.

"Howdy, Helene," Kloee said as her unofficial cousin stepped through the door.

Helene looked surprised. "Good evening, Kloee. "

"Can I ask you for something, Cousin?" Kloee asked sweetly, ignoring the airs Helene was putting on.

Helene seemed to think for a minute as she stood in the doorway of the Exchange. "Depends on what it is. I have to meet Anton at Cora's for dinner, then I have to get home before my grandmother starts asking questions."

"I can walk along with you," Kloee volunteered. "We can talk on the way to the restaurant."

Helene looked at her in irritation. "I have a date with Anton, and I would appreciate some privacy. It's hard enough getting any time with him without my grandmother getting wind of it."

"No, no. I don't mean I'll go into Cora's with you," Kloee responded rapidly. "I just need you to talk to your grandma for me. I need to get her help with something."

"Well, explain it to me, but be quick. Anton is waiting by now," Helene snapped.

Kloee bit her tongue and explained about the her small group of friends going into the corncob pipe business.

By the time they arrived at Cora's, Helene had volunteered, for a cut, to help them set everything up. There was no need for bringing her grandmother into it.

Kloee agreed wholeheartedly. Frau Meyers hadn't been anyone's real favorite; but having Helene take over the business and sales part of their little endeavor relieved a large burden from Kloee's shoulders. Kloee hurried on down the street. She had to get home and take care of the chickens. It was her turn and Mama Melodie didn't like it when chores didn't get done.

Saturday

Kloee turned the meeting of the newly formed Murray-Bates Company over to Helene. She threw side glances at Anton, who had come out with Helene—not to get involved in the meeting, but to just spend a little time with her

"First thing you need to do is get your product into a limited production," Helene told the group. "Just enough for a few trial sales pitches. I can arrange for Anton to try to sell a few pipes as soon as you have them made." Helene smiled at Anton. He beamed back at her. "If the trial pipes sell well, we will go into production of enough to make a real profit."

Kloee watched Helene watch the kids for their reaction.

Freddie was the first to say anything. "We ain't startin' no big ol' business, Helene. No way. We just want to earn some money the Hun ain't goin' to put into the bank for our futures."

Dakota and Sybie loudly seconded Freddie's statement. They just wanted a little money, not a full-time job making pipes, or any of the hassle that went with it.

The arguing started and Kloee sat and listened. Freddie, Sybie, and Dakota took one side; and WB, Franz and Helene took the other. She wasn't even getting involved in this one. Both sides made some excellent points. Before she made her final decision, Kloee would have to do some hard thinking about everything she had heard.

By the end of the first meeting of the Murray-Bates Pipe Company, it had been decided to see if the pipes sold. After the trial sale, they would decide what to do next. Only WB, Franz, and Helene thought they were going to do more than make a few pipes, sell them, and be able to buy the little extras they wanted.

No one wanted Helene to go crazy like Frau Meyers and turn their little idea into another one of her big enterprises.

Kloee watched while everyone went their own way. Things didn't look as good as they had last Saturday when Dakota had described making corncob pipes. She was getting a bad feeling about this.

Late August, 1635

Kloee looked over the dried cobs that were cut in half and ready to be cleaned of their pithy centers. Papaw Murray had made them tools for the job from pieces of old hacksaw blades from which he had removed the teeth and sharpened to an edge on one side. The handles were made of leather wraps around the upper end of the tool.

The elderberry branches they would use for the pipe stems had been trimmed and hollowed with a hot wire. Four pipes were assembled and ready to go. Helene was supposed to stop by with Anton to take them out.

Helene and Anton entered the little workshop Granny Murray had allowed them to build in her barn. "Are the first pipes ready to take?" Helene asked.

"They sure are," Kloee chuckled. "They were even pre-smoked to burn out the residual pith in each pipe bowl and stem."

Freddie Bates had turned positively green from the first bowl of tobacco he'd smoked through a pipe. She hadn't thought he would ever quit gagging and coughing.

Now, he seemed to have no problem smoking the two bowls of tobacco required to pre-season each pipe. Of course, he had made off with pipe number five, claiming it was his for all the hard work he did getting the pipes ready for sale.

So far, they had invested money out of their pockets for the tobacco to season the pipes with and hadn't earned one miserable dollar. Now, the four pipes they had ready to sell were going for what Helene called advertising start-up expenses.

At this rate, they were not only not going to earn enough for her to buy a couple of new dresses and those shoes that were being sold at the Kurger Emporium, but she would be lucky to have enough chore money left to buy a glass of iced tea at the City Hall Coffee Shop.

***

Anton Droesseler set down the Barney lunchbox Helene had given him. A couple of up-timers had called it "the purple puke" when they had seen the pink plastic box and the faded picture and writing on it. It was lunch time and he was in the smoking area.

He opened the box and took out a smoked sausage and the thermos of beer. The lunch box was distinctive. But the small thermos bottle was still good and no one else had a lunchbox like his. For now, no one—except for Freddie—had a pipe like his, either.

He prized the ugly lunchbox, not because it was American pre-Ring of Fire, but because Helene had given it to him.

When his fellow workers finished up their lunches and broke out clay pipes Anton took his new corncob pipe from the lunch box.

An up-timer had come out to have a smoke. Few of the up-timers smoked; it had something to do with an up-timer belief that smoking was bad for you. Anton packed his pipe carefully and lit one of the Red-Devil phosphorus sticks and held the flame over his pipe. He drew in a drag and felt the rich smoke from the tobacco fill his mouth. He rolled the smoke around and let it out.

The next drag was cooler and the flavor very satisfying. He inhaled only a small amount and felt the mild euphoria.

The up-timer came over. "Where you get the pipe?"

"Some of my fiancées family are making them," Anton said. He smiled as he exhaled smoke and took another pull on the stem. The pipe was burning smoothly; he had used it twice last night and once this morning to make sure he could use it without messing up. After all, it wasn't his clay pipe, it was one of Helene's families creations.

The man looked longingly at the pipe Anton was smoking, then at the fragile clay pipe that had gone out in his hand. "They wouldn't have a few to sell would they?"

Anton opened his lunchbox and brought out one of the samples. "Here. Have one of the spares my fiancée gave me." He passed the pipe to the man.

"Thanks," the worker said gratefully. Anton struck up another Red-Devil and relit his pipe.

Some of his co-workers now watched as the up-timer dug the tobacco from his clay pipe, put it away, then packed the bowl of the corncob.

His friend, Ernst, moved to the bench across from Anton. The two had started their apprenticeships at the same time. "How is that pipe? Is it American?"

Anton pulled out another sample pipe and gave it to Ernst.

Ernst receiving a corncob pipe started a rush on him, more out of curiosity than anything else. After he passed out the last two pipes, he explained they had come from Fraulein Helene Meyers-Bates and she was the one who knew were to get them.

By the end of the day, he heard some of the smokers talking about the new style of pipe. He even heard Ernst say how much more durable it was and how he wasn't going to use a clay pipe anymore.

Anton smiled. He would let Helene know her idea was working. She would be such a good wife and bring much to a marriage with her business skills; and he would soon be a journeyman, if he kept learning about steam engines.

Saturday Meeting of the Murray Bates Pipe Company

"I have orders," Helene crowed. "I need twenty-seven pipes. Half of those are going to the Tobacco Shop on consignment. The rest are sold for fifteen dollars each. Don't expect to keep getting that price, though. I used the old supply and demand rule they teach you in school. Charge what the market will bear. "

Kloee noticed that while Helene spoke she reminded her of Frau Meyers. Had Helene changed and become a money-grubbing capitalist like Frau Meyers?

Money-grubbing capitalist is what Uncle JJ called Frau Meyers, along with the Hag, the Old Witch, and Scum Sucker. However, if Frau Meyers caught a cold, Uncle JJ was the first one to panic. For all his show of dislike for the old woman, he really cared for her deeply.

A whoop rose from the other members of the Murray Bates Pipe Company.

"Where's our money?" became the main question.

"There is no money yet," Helene explained. "First, you have to deliver the pipes to me. I will deliver them to the customers and bring you your money next Saturday. Now, everyone get to work."

With grumbles and moans Freddie, Dakota, Sybie, and Kloee trudged toward their part of the pipe assembly line.

WB and Franz moved right to their jobs. The two boys didn't see anything wrong with turning out pipes in bulk. They actually thought all the work Helene was making for them was good.

Kloee lit the small charcoal stove and set up her burning wires. She started removing the bark from the dry elderberry branches, the first step in her work.

Beside her, Sybie drilled holes in pipe bowls, matching them to stems that had already been hollowed out.

Dakota was farther down the line, next to Freddie, using a piece of the down-timer made sandpaper to put a finish on the bowls and a piece of deer horn to polish the outside of the bowls.

Freddie hollowed corncobs and scraped out most of the pithy insides.

WB and Franz had already gone out to where the stripped corncobs were drying to select the best of the cured cobs. After they had selected the best cobs, they would go to one of the elderberry trees to gather suitable branches for stems. They had to be careful with the trees, though. If they damaged Granny Murray's elderberry trees, there would be the Jimmy Dickens to pay.

It looked like things were going to start paying for themselves; but it was going to be a lot of work, and their Saturdays would be gone—spent making pipes.

Kloee heard Dakota and Freddie grumbling about child labor and slave driver Helene. Well, they had agreed to start this up; now, they were going to have to find away to live with it.

Helene might be able to sell the pipes, but they had to make them. None of them had planned to make the Murray-Bates Pipe Company their life's goal.

What good was money if you had no time between school, chores, church, and making pipes to enjoy it?

Kloee decided she would talk to Papa Donnie about it. He would know how to remedy the situation. Helene would just insist they spend more time making pipes to make money. That wasn't going to work. She wasn't happy and she knew Freddie and Dakota would talk Sybie into walking out.

***

Saturday dinner was at an end. It was Dakota and Zackie's turn to do dishes and Emery was off with Papaw Murray.

Mama Melodie was taking DeePee over to Granny Murray's house, which gave her a chance to speak to Papa Donnie without Mama Melodie getting involved. Besides, Papa was much freer with what he said when Mama Melodie wasn't around. ...