The next morning Jim left early for the gym. Mae left the
apartment house, too. She took the kids to her sister's house, and
then she crossed the Hudson River to New York City.
She was going to the small part of the city known as the Upper
East Side. It was an area of beautiful houses, expensive apartment
buildings, and fine hotels. Some of the richest people in the
country lived on the blocks along the city's Central Park.
Two streets away, the buildings weren't quite so beautiful, but
they were still home to wealthy people. In front of each apartment
building, a uniformed doorman stood guard.
When she reached the tall building, she looked up, trying to
guess how many floors it had. She went through the beautiful
entrance hall to the elevator. On the fifteenth floor, she moved
down the line of doors.
She knocked on one and called politely, "Open the door,
Joe." There was no answer. She tried again, and again, but nobody
came to the door. "Joe, open this door now!" Mae shouted.
"You're not going to hide in your expensive apartment while
you turn my husband into a punching bag. I won't let you get
him hurt again!"
The door opened. "You'd better come in," said Joe Gould.
As she pushed past him, Mae's anger died. She had expected the
manager's home to be beautiful. But she looked around now at a
completely empty apartment.
Minutes later, she sat on a camping chair, drinking tea with Joe
and his wife Lucille. She hadn't expected this friendly welcome.
"Sorry," said Joe, pointing to the door. "People have to think
you're doing well."
"I thought. . ." said Mae.
"That's the plan," said Joe, touching his fine brown suit. "Show
people you're doing well, even if you're not. We sold the last of the
furniture last week," he continued, "so Jimmy could train."
"Why?" Mae asked.
40
"Sometimes you see something in a fighter, something to hope
for," answered Joe. "Jimmy's what I hope for."
Mae shook her head. "This is crazy. You don't even know if you
can get him a fight, do you?"
"I'll get him a fight," Joe said, "if it's the last thing I do."
Chapter 9 Not the Same Guy
The gym owner, Joe Jeannette, looked pleased. "You've been
training, Jimmy.''
"I've been working, Joe. Not training."
"Show me what work you did."
"I was lifting sacks at the dock," explained Jim. "We used a
hook, like this." He showed the movement.
"That's the perfect punching exercise," said Jeannette. "You've
been getting a powerful left hand, and you didn't even know it."
In the next few weeks, Braddock trained hard. After all those
months of hard work, it was like a vacation to train with Jeannette.
But the trainer pushed him hard. Every week there were new
exercises, new skills to learn and practice.
While Braddock worked at the gym, Joe Gould was busy in
other ways. At Madison Square Garden, he walked into Jimmy
Johnston's office and sat down.
"You're going to arrange a fight between Jim Braddock and
John Henry Lewis."
Johnston looked up from the papers he was signing. "Now why
would I do that?"
Joe smiled confidently. "Lewis is number two in line to fight
for the heavyweight title, and he's already beaten Braddock once
before. So put Braddock against Lewis. If Lewis wins, your boy has
had a good practice fight before his next opponent, and you make
some money. If, by some chance, Braddock beats Lewis, you have a
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