Billy McCarty was 7. He lived with his mother in the government housing project at the end of Sixth Street. It was a good place to live. The buildings all looked alike, but they were new - a WPA project near the end of the Depression. The grounds were neat, the grass was always mowed and an American flag flew high before the office.
Billy's school was new (another WPA project) located down Sixth Street past the fire station. The school smelled of cafeteria vegetable soup and the floor wax used by Mr. Endicott.
Billy's father was working on a dam in Tennessee, so this year there was more money than there had been. Still, little of it made its way into Billy's pocket, usually just enough for lunch. The cafeteria cashier counted the cost of each item on his tray: "Two, five, eight, 10, 13 cents."
Billy didn't like the cafeteria. There had been events that had drawn attention to him there. Once he laughed so hard milk came out his nose and splashed Elwood's shirt. The worst incident happened when, against his better judgment, he tried to eat beets and threw up on the table.
Today was Christmas Eve and Billy had found a nickel in his pocket. How it got there was a mystery, but he spent no time puzzling over it. He told his best friend, Raymond, that he was going to give himself a Christmas present. Raymond was pretty sure what Billy had in mind.
Raymond was the poorest boy in school. He spent recess and half the lunch hour walking the playground, head down, looking for money. More often than not he found a few cents. It was as if he could smell money. Sometimes Billy walked with him, amazed when Raymond bent down and brushed away dirt and picked up a coin or two. But today there was a dusting of snow and no money to be found.
When school was over Billy was out the door while the bell was still ringing. Mr. Endicott was sweeping snow. "Going to spend your nickel?" Word had got around that Billy had a nickel. "Yes sir, and I'm going to eat the whole doughnut."
Raymond called for Billy to wait up. A little group standing by Progress Grocery Store watched with interest as the two crossed Sixth Street to Spaulding's Bakery.
Mr. Spaulding himself was at the counter. "What can I get you, son?" Billy said, "One glazed doughnut, please." His mother had taught him to say please and thank you. Usually he remembered to do it.
"That'll be five cents." Billy reached deep into his pocket for the nickel and there found the nickel and something else-a penny. He thought of Raymond, standing on the steps, looking in the bakery window. "Do you have any penny doughnuts?" Mr. Spaulding shook his head. Billy handed over the nickel and said thanks when he received his doughnut on a piece of waxed paper. When he hesitated a second, Mr. Spaulding asked if there was anything else. "No," Billy said, and then added, "Merry Christmas."
Raymond looked at the doughnut as if he could taste it with his eyes. Billy broke off a piece and handed it over. "Merry Christmas." Raymond chewed slowly and swallowed reluctantly, then turned toward home.
Billy crossed Sixth Street. Waiting for him by the grocery were Elwood, Albert and Homer, who had seen the exchange. "Bite?" Elwood asked on behalf of the group. Three more pieces. "Merry Christmas," Billy said.
He had not walked 10 feet before he met Geraldine, the love of his life ever since first grade last year. Geraldine of frilly white dresses and pigtails with bows; Geraldine of little glances and shy smiles. Sweet Geraldine. He handed her the last piece. "Merry Christmas." She received it, took a tiny bit, said "Umm," then quickly kissed Billy on the cheek and ran away.
As he passed the school Mr. Endicott called, "Did you have the whole doughnut already?" "No sir," Billy replied, "I had the doughnut hole." And then he said, "Merry Christmas," as he headed for home, cheek warm and sticky, a pretty good Christmas so far.