“Have you practiced any yet this morning?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d get in a couple of hours before nine.”
Jimmy opened a large can of chili and thought carefully before he spoke. “Well, here’s my advice. Now, you can take it or leave it, but now, if I were you, I wouldn’t practice at all this morning.”
“Not at all?”
“I wouldn’t. You can pretty much figure that everybody else will, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“So if you walk in nice and rested you have an advantage. See what I mean?”
Bobby’s eyes widened. “Yeah . . . I see!”
“You save up all your energy for the big push—when you need it. And when you’re up there, concentrate. Remain calm and steady as she goes. Don’t look right, don’t look left, don’t let yourself get rattled, just stay the course, nice and easy all the way.”
Bobby listened intently. “Yeah. Don’t get rattled . . . nice and easy.”
“What’s the prize on this thing?”
“Twenty-five free passes to the theater.”
Jimmy was impressed or acted as if he was. “Hey, that’s a pretty good deal.” Just then two of Jimmy’s breakfast regulars came in the door.
“Morning, boys,” he said.
Bobby quickly finished his coffee and ran out the door. “Thanks, Jimmy.”
“Good luck, buddy.”
Bobby ran back home and made a big production of resting, lying in the middle of the living room floor so everybody had to ask him what he was doing lying in the middle of the floor. When Princess Mary Margaret would not stop barking and running around him in a circle, he complained to his mother that it was very important for him to rest and to come and get her. However, she took the dog’s side and said, “You get up off that floor. You’re upsetting her. She thinks there’s something wrong with you!”
At exactly 9:00 A.M., a dozen boys, all at least two inches taller than Bobby, stood in a straight line on the stage of the Elmwood Springs Theater, each in various stages of nervous breakdowns. Ward McIntire, the man from the Bazooka bubble gum company, stood holding a glass bowl filled with gum all wrapped in shiny wax paper, each containing a shiny wax-paper cartoon inside. As he stood there, Bobby kept repeating over and over in his mind, Don’t get rattled . . . don’t look right, don’t look left, but it was hard. Claudia Albetta was sitting in the front row with two of her girlfriends. Ever since Mr. Yo-Yo had come to town he had wanted to win a contest. Last month he had lost the Bat the Ball contest by only three bats but coming in second was not good enough. Following his mother’s motto—If at first you don’t succeed, try again—he had tried over and over but without success. Bobby was beginning to wonder if he was destined to always be second at everything for the rest of his life.
This morning he had gotten to the theater an hour early so he could be first in line. He knew the longer you held the gum in your hand and warmed it up, the softer it would get. He had been first in line until three minutes before they opened the doors, when Luther Griggs and three of his friends pushed in front of him, so he wound up fourth in line. There was some consolation, however, because when the man started walking down the line so everyone could pick out their gum, he started at the other end and after all that pushing and shoving, Griggs wound up being last. Bobby heard Monroe let out a big donkey hee-haw from the audience when it happened. After everyone had a piece, Mr. McIntire then walked back to the side of the stage where the microphone was and announced in a booming voice, “Gentlemen, unwrap your gum.” Bobby’s heart was pounding and his hands were sweaty as he struggled to unwrap the slickly sticky paper and get his gum out. He kept repeating to himself Nice and easy . . . don’t get rattled. Soon the boys stood at attention with huge marshmallow-sized chunks of white powdery sugary hot pink bubble gum in their palms, waiting for the next signal from the man. Mr. McIntire looked at his stopwatch, then said, “Get ready . . . begin!” In unison twelve boys jammed the gum into their mouths and furiously began chewing it like it was something they were trying to kill. Bobby forced himself to remain calm. He knew that part of the secret of a good bubble is not to start blowing until all the gum has been chewed properly . . . not too soft . . . not too hard. . . . Timing was everything. Wait, wait, he repeated over and over in his head. Don’t get rattled, don’t get rattled, wait, wait. He could hear that some of the boys had already started blowing but he waited until the moment he felt it was just right. Bobby started to blow, slowly at first, then as the bubble grew larger he increased his breathing, deeper and deeper each time, until his shoulders were heaving up and down with each breath. All around him bubbles were popping one by one, up and down the line, but Bobby kept going until he was the only one left. But he didn’t know it and just kept on going. He was alone on the stage, all alone looking at the world through the soft pink gauze of a now vast bubble that was growing still larger and larger. There was complete silence in the theater. The entire audience was holding its breath. Will it ever pop? But it kept growing until the bubble covered his entire face and head—and more. All the audience could see was an immense pink bubble with a boy’s arms and legs below. It grew larger and larger until Bobby felt like he might float up in the air . . . out the door, over the buildings, and out into the world, never to return. Then it happened. He heard an amazingly soft slow pop and there he stood with bubble gum covering his entire face, including his ears and the top of his head.
“The winner!” screamed Ward McIntire and the audience was on its feet applauding. What glory. What a triumph. Five minutes later Bobby ran into the Trolley Car Diner with gum still sticking to his eyelashes and ears, waving his free-pass book in the air, yelling, “JIMMY . . . I WON. . . . I DIDN’T GET RATTLED. I WON!” But before Jimmy had a chance to congratulate him he had run out the door, headed for the drugstore to tell his father. When he got home his mother had to use kerosene to get all the gum out of his hair, and he used up all twenty-five passes in less than a week taking everybody to the movies but he didn’t care. He had blown the biggest bubble in the history of the contest, people said. Maybe the biggest in the entire state. From that day on he felt special.
Winning that contest meant he had been chosen to become a man of destiny after all.
Success
AS BOBBY FOUND OUT, sometimes in life you just get lucky and hit the right combination. After years of trying, one day you press the lever of the slot machine and all three cherries line up in the right order and you’ve hit the jackpot. Such was the case the day Beatrice Woods joined the Oatman Family Gospel Singers.
They had been together for only a few months when a producer from Hallelujah Records heard them sing in Atlanta. After they cut their first album, things started to happen. When Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven climbed to the top of the gospel charts, offers started coming in from everywhere. The Singing News soon wrote that they were becoming the hottest new group of the year.
Soon their second album, Once I Was Lost but Praise the Lord Now I’m Found, named after a song Minnie had written inspired by Chester’s disappearance, shot to the top of the charts as well. This combined with their appearance on the Arthur Godfrey show and they suddenly became the number one gospel group in the country. To Beatrice’s delight, this sudden popularity meant traveling to almost every state in the Union and within six months they had even sung in the White House. By the end of 1949 they were booked fifty-two weeks out of the year and had their own big silver bus with THE OATMAN FAMILY GOSPEL SINGERS written in big, bold, black letters on both sides.