“You leave this to me,” says Gimpy who has now taken over Frank’s idea. “I think maybe he can learn. Now listen, Charlie. You want to learn something? You want me to teach you how to make rolls like me and Frank are doing? Charlie stares at him, the smile melting from his face. He understands what Gimpy wants, and he feels cornered. He wants to please Gimpy, but there is something about the words learn and teach, something to remember about being punished severely, but he doesn’t recall what it is-only a thin white hand upraised, hitting him to make him learn something he couldn’t understand. Charlie backs away but Gimpy grabs his arm. “Hey, kid, take it easy. We ain’t gonna hurt you. Look at him shaking like he’s gonna fall apart. Look, Charlie. I got a nice new shiny good-luck piece for you to play with.” He holds out his hand and reveals a brass chain with a shiny 43 brass disc that says STA-BRITS METAL POLISH. He holds the chain by one end and the gleaming gold disc rotates slowly, catching the light of the fluorescent bulbs. The pendant is a brightness that Charlie remembers but he doesn’t know why or what.
He doesn’t reach for it. He knows you get punished if you reach out for other people’s things. If someone puts it into your hand that is all right. But otherwise it’s wrong. When he sees that Gimpy is offering it to him, he nods and smiles again.
“That he knows,” laughs Frank. “Give him something bright and shiny.” Frank, who has let Gimpy take over the experiment, leans forward excitedly. “Maybe if he wants that piece of junk bad enough and you tell him he’ll get it if he learns to shape the dough into rollsmaybe it’ll work.” As the bakers set to the task of teaching Charlie, others from the shop gather around. Frank clears an area between them on the table, and Gimpy pulls off a medium sized piece of dough for Charlie to work with. There is talk of betting on whether or not Charlie can learn to make rolls. “Watch us carefully,” says Gimpy, putting the pendant beside him on the table where Charlie can see it. “Watch and do everything we do. If you learn how to make rolls, you’ll get this shiny good-luck piece.” Charlie hunches over on his stool, intently watching Gimpy p? ck up the knife and cut off a slab of dough. He studies each movement as Gimpy rolls out the dough into a long roll, breaks it off and twists it into a circle, pausing now and then to sprinkle it with flour.
“Now watch me,” says Frank, and he repeats Gimpy’s performance. Charlie is confused. There are differences. Gimpy holds his elbows out as he rolls the dough, like a bird’s wings, but Frank keeps his arms close to his sides. Gimpy keeps his thumbs together with the rest of his fingers as he kneads the dough, but Frank works with the flat of his palms, keeping thumbs apart from his other fingers and up in the air.
Worrying about these things makes it impossible for Charlie to move when Gimpy says, “Go ahead, try it.” Charlie shakes his head. “Look, Charlie, I’m gonna do it again slow. Now you 44 watch everything I do, and do each part along with me. Okay? But try to remember everything so then you’ll be able to do the whole thing alone. Now come on-like this.”
Charlie frowns as he watches Gimpy pull off a section of dough and roll it into a ball. He hesitates, but then he picks up the knife and slices off a piece of dough and sets it down in the center of the table. Slowly, keeping his elbows out exactly as Gimpy does, he rolls it into a ball.
He looks from his own hands to Gimpy’s, and he is careful to keep his fingers exactly the same way, thumbs together with the rest of his fingers-slightly cupped. He has to do it right, the way Gimpy wants him to do it. There are echoes inside him that say, do it right and they will like you. And he wants Gimpy and Frank to like him.
When Gimpy has finished working his dough into a ball, he stands back, and so does Charlie. “Hey, that’s great. Look, Frank, he made it, into a ball.”
Frank nods and smiles. Charlie sighs and his whole frame trembles as the tension builds. He is unaccustomed to this rare moment of success.
“All right now,” says Gimpy. “Now we make a roll.” Awkwardly, but carefully, Charlie follows Gimpy’s every move. Occasionally, a twitch of his hand or arm mars what he is doing, but in a little while he is able to twist off a section of the dough and fashion it into a roll. Working beside Gimpy he makes six rolls, and sprinkling them with flour he sets them carefully alongside Gimpy’s in the large flour-covered tray.
“All right, Charlie.” Gimpy’s face is serious. “Now, let’s see you do it by yourself. Remember all the things you did from the beginning. Now, go ahead.”
