How to Get Rich by Selling Ice

By,

Julia S. 

This fan story is a first-person (Andi telling the story) sneak peek into a comment Andi made in chapter 2 of Trouble with Treasure:

“You can’t be too careful about what?” Jack asked, sucking on an ice chip.

“Treasure,” Andi said, swallowing hard. That ice chip sure looked good! “Cory thinks he’s found another get-rich-quick scheme. Want to hear about it?”

She knew what Jack’s answer would be. A few years ago, Cory had talked Jack into helping him with an idea to swipe ice from the Goodwin’s ice house and sell it door to door. Trouble was, by the time they reached the fourth house, the ice had melted into a puddle in the bucket. When Mr. Goodwin found out, both boys got their backsides warmed. More than likely, Jack wouldn’t want to join Cory in another fool notion to get rich.

Ever wonder what actually happened when Cory and Jack decided to sell ice from Goodwin's mercantile? I did. So one day, while we were all sitting outside the livery sucking on chunks of ice, I asked them.

“Cory,” I prodded as he slid the remainder of his ice down Jack's shirt, “What exactly happened when you tried selling Mr. Goodwin's ice?”

Jack, who was jumping up and down trying to get the ice out of his shirt, stopped and stared at me in horror. “Nothin' good, that's what,” he muttered.

Cory grinned. “Aw, come on, it wasn't that bad. We would've been rich in no time if it hadn't melted.”

Jack snorted and Cory turned to Andi with a grin. “It was two years ago, right around this time actually. Jack and I were eating licorice in the mercantile whole Mr. Goodwin was in the back room . . .

****

”Say, Jack. I've got an idea.”

Jack looked at Cory, interest written all over his face, along with streaks of black licorice. “What?”

“Let's start a business!”

Jack looked at him like he was crazy. “What kind of business?” he asked, shoving licorice in his mouth.

 Cory grinned. “An ice business! We go from door to door and sell ice for, I don't know, two cents a cube or so. We'd be rich in no time.”

“Cory, no one's gonna buy ice from us.”

“Aw, come on Jack. It's sweltering out here. Wouldn't you pay for some ice right about now?”

Jack hesitated. It was mighty hot. A chip of ice didn't sound too bad to him. 

Neither did a handful of cold, hard cash. 

”Cory, where do you plan on getting the ice for your business?”

His friend shrugged. “I'm sure your Pa wouldn't mind us borrowing some ice. Besides, if we get extra income, we might be able to share some with him. What do you say?”

Jack jumped off the counter eagerly. “Let's go.” 

Selling ice wasn’t as easy as it sounded. First, there was getting the ice. Cory and Jack had to chip at those blocks for a good ten minutes before they got enough off, all the while watching over their shoulders to make sure that Mr. Goodwin wasn't coming. Something told Jack that his Pa wouldn't be too happy that they were taking ice. 

Then there was the fact that the ice wouldn't stay solid. By the time they got to the Wilsons' house, their ice business was a bucket of cold water business, although they'd made some money beforehand. The townsfolk had seemed all too pleased to have ice brought right to their doorstep and sold for a cheaper price than usual. Mr. Wilson, however, looked suspicious.  

”What do you boys think you're doing now?” Mr. Wilson asked when he answered their knock, his thumbs in his vest.

Cory flashed a winning smile. “Selling some ice cold water, sir. Want some?”

Mr. Wilson looked at them suspiciously. “And where did you find “ice cold water” on a day like today?”

“My Pa's--”

Cory elbowed Jack in the ribs and Jack closed his mouth. Too late.

“The mercantile, eh? You boys do realize that that's stealing?”

“Well sir, it's my ice just as much as my Pa's,” Jack began.

Mr. Wilson looked at them sternly. “Is it now? Does that mean that my boys can walk in and 'borrow' folks' money out of my bank whenever they please?”

Jack licked his lips nervously and Cory kicked at the dust.

“No sir,” Cory said after a minute, “I guess not.”

Mr. Wilson nodded. “You boys better head back now, and tell Mr. Goodwin what's been going on, assuming he doesn't know already.”

“Yessir,” both boys said in unison.

They were quiet as they walked away from the Wilson's house, thinking about what Mr. Goodwin's reaction would be to their escapade.

Suddenly, Jack turned to Cory. “I'll tell you what Cory. You go back home and I'll sneak the bucket inside. That way, we won't have to explain to my Pa, and you won't have to tell your Pa. “

Cory bit his lip. “I don't know. Seems to me we better just come clean.”

“Sure, if they ask us. But if they don't, then we should just keep it to ourselves.”

 “Jack---” “

It's not like we did anything wrong on purpose. It was an accident, and I'm not going to endure a whipping if I don't have to, all because of your all-fired plan to get rich.”

Cory rolled his eyes. “Fine. You go ahead and take the bucket. But if Pa asks me, I can't lie to him.” Cory handed Jack the bucket and started off in the opposite direction. Then he stopped short. “Uh-oh.” Cory raced back over to his friend. “Uh, Jack? Aren't you and your Pa coming over for supper?”

Jack's face turned pale. “If I am, we're in a heap of trouble. My Pa'll tear us apart faster than Justin Carter in court.”

Cory winced. “We're gonna be late too. Come on. You can leave the bucket in the livery and come back for it later.”

The two boys bolted as fast as their legs could carry them. Once they reached the livery, Jack dropped the bucket with a clatter and the two raced into the house, and right into the dining room where their families sat.

Mr. Blake eyed Cory sternly. “Racing in late for supper, are we?”

Silence greeted his question. Mr. Goodwin cleared his throat. “What have you boys been up to?”

“Sorry about that Pa, Mr. Blake. We were just, uh, walking around town is all.”

 Mr. Goodwin nodded thoughtfully.

“Well,” Mr. Blake said at last, “You boys might as well sit down.”

Cory and Jack obeyed with relief. 

“Charles Wilson stopped by before you two showed up.”

Cory froze with his fork halfway to his mouth and looked at Jack. His friend was bright red. Cory swallowed hard. “He-he did?”

Mr. Goodwin nodded. “Said you boys stopped by earlier.” He looked at them as though confused. “Are you reconciling with Johnny Wilson?”

Mr. Blake's usually cheerful gaze pinned Cory sternly. “What were you two doing?”

“Nothing, Pa.”

“Yeah, nothing. Just conducting a little business.”

Cory kicked Jack under the table. “What?”

Mr. Goodwin raised his eyebrows. “What kind of business?”

Neither boy spoke for a minute and Cory gave Jack a pointed look.  He's your Pa, his eyes said.

 Jack shook his head slightly. Your idea, he mouthed.

Cory glared at him, then swallowed-hard. “An ice business, sir.”

“Ice, eh? From my store?” The words were accusing, the tone dismayed and disappointed.

Cory studied his plate. “Yessir.”

“Cory.”

Cory winced. Pa's voice was hard as gunmetal. “You look me in the eye, and you better be quick about it, boy.”

Cory looked up to meet his Pa's gaze. It was as hard as his voice. “You stole from the mercantile.”

“Yessir.”

Pa looked at Mr. Goodwin, then back at Cory. “Well then. I honestly don't know what to say. Here I thought I had brought you up to believe in honest, hard work. What in the world made you want to pull a stunt like that?”

Cory bit his lip.

“Answer me.”

A sudden knock at the door saved Cory from a further tongue lashing and Mr. Blake stood from the table.

“Mr. Blake! What a coincidence!” Mrs. Evans loud, high voice fluted from the doorway. “How are you? Your family? My, it's been forever! I came to see Mr. Goodwin, you see, because he wasn't at the store or at home and of course I naturally assumed he was here! May I step in?”

Mr. Blake looked around helplessly as the woman forced her way passed him. “Ah, the young men who started this amazing and time-saving delivery! I must say though, you ought to find a way to keep the ice from melting so quickly, otherwise folks won't want to buy it.”

Cory and Jack looked at one another in surprise. “S-Sure thing, Mrs. Evans,” Cory stammered, “as-as long as we get the okay from Jack's Pa.”

“Well I must say, I'm glad you chose to do this, Mr. Goodwin. It was an impeccable idea. Imagine, this very morning I was thinking to myself how wonderful an ice cold glass of water sounded and then here comes your boy and his friend selling ice by the bucketful. Why, incredible! Just incredible! Pure Providence, that's what I call it! Oh, and you needn't worry, I warned the boys not to head over to the Kings' residence. We all know what's been going on at the end of town...”

After a half an hour of good gossip and reassurance of another ice delivery, Mrs. Evans tripped out happily. As soon as the door was shut, Mr. Goodwin burst out laughing. Mr. Blake joined in and soon everyone was in, stitches over the joke.

Jack turned to his Pa hopefully. “Does this mean we're not in trouble?”

Mr. Goodwin leaned back in his chair, still chuckling. “Oh, you're in a heap of trouble, son. But you may have been on to something. In fact, I'd be willing to let you and Cory sell ice for me anytime.”

Cory snatched at the bait eagerly. “How much an hour, sir?”

“Well, I'd be willing to pay you at a rate of...hmm... Not telling the sheriff you stole from my mercantile.”

Cory opened his mouth to argue, then took one look at his Pa and clamped it shut. “Sounds fine, Mr. Goodwin. Sounds just fine.”