Someplace to Call Home

by Sandra Dallas

  “Come with me. Maybe I know who has it,” she said. She took the boy’s hand and led him over to where Jimmy sat. Jimmy was just removing food from a sack.

  “That’s my dinner!” the boy said.

  “No, it ain’t. I brung it from home,” Jimmy said.

  “It’s got my birthday cake. See right there,” the boy told Hallie. “Yesterday was my birthday.”

  “It was my birthday, too,” Jimmy replied.

  “Give it back to him,” Hallie said. She started to raise her voice so that everybody knew Jimmy was a thief. Exposing him would be a good way to get back at him. But something told her not to do that. Maybe she ought to give Jimmy a chance to admit he was wrong.

  “Mind your own business,” Jimmy said.

  “You going to make me?” Hallie asked.

  “Aw, shut up. Take the dinner. Maybe I made a mistake.” He dumped the cake into the bag and held it out to the boy. “Who wants cake anyway?”

  The boy took the sack and grinned at Hallie, then raced off.

  “It’s pretty low to steal from a little kid,” Hallie told Jimmy.

  She turned away and went to the steps to eat by herself. A few minutes later, Cathy, the new girl who lived on her grandparents’ farm, came over and sat beside Hallie. “Standing up for that little boy was a nice thing to do,” she told Hallie.

  Hallie shrugged. “I think Jimmy took my dinner once. That’s wrong.”

  “He didn’t do it for himself.”

  “What do you mean?” Hallie had removed her bean sandwich and saw to her surprise that Cathy was eating the same thing.

  “Didn’t you see that little kid beside him? That’s Jimmy’s brother. Jimmy steals food sometimes so that his brother can eat.”

  “Don’t they bring their own dinners?”

  “Not very often. When they do, it’s just bacon grease spread on moldy bread. I saw it once. They get the bread from the grocery store after it’s gone bad.”

  “That’s icky,” Hallie said. Even if she was hungry, she didn’t think she would eat bread with mold on it. “How do you know?”

  “They live on the farm next to us. Jimmy’s dad drinks, and his mother is sick. They don’t have anything. His father’s mean. He beats up Jimmy and his brother. I know because Dad heard the boys hollering. He went over to find out if something was wrong. He saw Jimmy trying to protect his brother. Dad says Mr. Watson was yelling at Jimmy that he ought to quit school so he could help with the farm.”

  “Maybe that’s where Jimmy gets his meanness.”

  Cathy shrugged. “Maybe he’s that way to cover up that he’s scared all the time.”

  “Really?” Hallie had to think about that for a minute.

  “That’s what my mom says anyway.”

  “Do they go hungry?”

  “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I think that’s why he steals dinners. I’ve noticed that when they eat, Jimmy makes his brother take most of the food. Jimmy always says he isn’t hungry.”

  The bell rang then, and the two girls picked up their sugar sacks. “I’m glad you told me,” Hallie said.

  “Don’t say anything to anybody else. Jimmy would be embarrassed.” Cathy smiled. “Besides, I wouldn’t want him to get mad at me.”

  “I won’t.” Hallie paused. “Thanks for eating dinner with me.”

  Cathy nodded. “Let’s do it tomorrow. I get tired of Wilma talking about herself all the time.”

  The next day, before she sat down with Cathy for dinner, Hallie walked over to where Jimmy and his brother were standing. “I forgot and made an extra sandwich. I can’t eat two. Do you want it?”

  Jimmy stared at Hallie a long time. Then he reached up and took the sandwich and handed it to his brother. He didn’t thank Hallie, but he didn’t bother her that day. After that, Hallie brought a second sandwich every week or two. Hallie was aware that she couldn’t bring extra food every day. After all, the Turners didn’t have much themselves. More important, Hallie knew what it was like to be poor. And she knew the poor had pride.

  chapter seven

  The Offer

  One afternoon in late October when Hallie stopped at the Carlson farm to pick up Benny, Mrs. Carlson invited the Turners to stay for supper. Tom was already at the farm, working for Mr. Carlson. “We’re having chicken and dumplings,” Mrs. Carlson said.

  “Oh boy, chicken and dumplings,” Hallie said.

  “Oh boy,” Benny repeated.

  “Do you want me to help?” Hallie asked.

  “Perhaps you could set the table. The tablecloth is in that drawer. The silverware is in the drawer above it.” She pointed at the cupboard.

  “I’ll help,” Tessie said.

  “Me too,” Benny added.

  Hallie took out a cloth that had big red cherries printed on it and flung it over the table. She handed Tessie the forks and Benny the spoons and kept the knives for herself. She took six plates from the cupboard and set them on the table. She set out the knives, then told Tessie and Benny to put the forks and spoons on either side of the plates. The two children mixed up the silverware, sometimes putting two spoons by one plate or setting the forks and spoons on the same side of the plates. But Hallie didn’t correct them. She supposed the Carlsons were as used to misplaced silverware as she and Tom were.

  Mrs. Carlson looked at the table and smiled. “Perfect,” she said. “Now, who wants to ring the dinner bell?”

  “I do,” Tessie said.

  “I do,” Benny added.

  “Both of us,” Tessie said.

  The two children went outside to ring the bell, while Hallie sliced tomatoes and bread and Mrs. Carlson dished up green beans. Hallie set the pot of chicken and dumplings on the table. Even in the good days in Oklahoma, she had never seen such a feast. “We’ll stretch our stomachs,” she whispered to Tom as he came into the room.

  Mr. Carlson said grace, then they passed around the supper. The Carlsons, along with Tom and Hallie, helped the little ones dish up food. “Oh boy,” Benny said again.

  When they were finished eating, Hallie and Mrs. Carlson cleared the plates. Then Mrs. Carlson took out a rhubarb pie from the refrigerator. Hallie exchanged a glance with Tom. She couldn’t remember when they last had pie. Mrs. Carlson brought out cups and saucers and poured coffee. Then she poured milk for Tessie and Benny and placed a spoonful of coffee in each of their glasses. She handed them to the children so they could pretend they had coffee, too.

  It might have been the best meal Hallie had eaten in her entire life, and she told Mrs. Carlson that. She rose and started collecting the plates. Mrs. Carlson told her to sit down. “Mr. Carlson and I have something important we want to discuss with you.”

  As she returned to her seat, Hallie had a sinking feeling. Mr. Carlson had said he was going to tear down the hired man’s cabin one day so that he could plant on the site. Maybe “one day” had come. Maybe the Carlsons felt bad about asking them to leave and were being extra nice about it. That would explain why the Turners had been invited to dinner. If that was so, Hallie hoped they could at least stay on through the winter, maybe even until school was over. They would leave for California in the spring.

  She exchanged a glance with Tom, who looked wary, too. He shrugged.

  “That old cabin, it ain’t much, and come winter, it will get awful cold,” Mr. Carlson began.

  Hallie looked down at her plate. No matter what, I’m not going to cry, she thought. The Carlsons have been good to us. If they tell us it’s time to move on, I’m still going to be grateful.

  “Well, we worry about you down there in the winter. No heat but the cook stove. No running water,” he continued.

  Mrs. Carlson looked over at Hallie and saw that the girl was worried. “You do go on, Swede. It isn’t about the cabin at all. Now don’t worry them. Here’s what we have to say. We were thinking maybe you would like to move in with us. We have all this room. Hallie could sleep with Tessie, and we can put a bed in the sewing room
for Tom and Benny. We’re concerned about the three of you living in the cabin. It makes no sense for you to stay there, what with us having this big house. Tessie’s our only child. We never had any more, and I doubt we will now. It would be a pleasure having you children with us.”

  “You want to adopt us?” Tom asked. He smiled a little.

  “Well, no, not exactly. But we will think of you as part of our family.”

  Tom and Hallie exchanged a glance. Hallie thought how nice it would be living with the Carlsons. They’d sleep in real beds and eat suppers like the one they had just finished. Still, something about the offer wasn’t quite right. She and Tom and Benny had been on their own for a long time. They didn’t know when they left Oklahoma if they would last a week. Now it had been almost a year. Times had been difficult, but they hadn’t given up. They had endured hardships and hunger. They had not known where their next nickel would come from. But they had managed to keep going. Hallie had developed strengths she never knew she had. So had Tom. They hadn’t let anybody take advantage of them.

  The Carlsons had been good to them, and the offer was generous. Hallie couldn’t deny that. But what if later on, the Carlsons changed their minds? Maybe Tessie and Benny wouldn’t get along. Or Mrs. Carlson might become tired of having the three Turners underfoot. If they had to leave, they would be worse off than ever. Especially Benny. He’d be hurt. He wouldn’t understand that although folks meant well, sometimes things didn’t turn out the way one hoped they would. They had already had too many disappointments. Hallie couldn’t stand another one.

  Hallie glanced at Tom. To her surprise, she thought he was ready to accept. She shook her head just the slightest bit. Tom frowned. “Maybe we ought to talk this over outside,” he said. He and Hallie went out to the porch where the Carlsons couldn’t overhear them. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said.

  “Not me,” Hallie told him. “What if after we move in, they don’t like us?”

  “Aw, come on, Hallie. They know us pretty well. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “It might. What if Benny and Tessie have a fight? You know he can get mad sometimes. Maybe they’ll think the house is too crowded? We don’t know if we can all get along.”

  Tom smiled at his sister. “It’ll be okay.”

  “What if it isn’t, Tom? If they ask us to leave, where will we go? It’s almost winter. We can’t live in the car again.”

  Tom thought that over. “I’m tired of worrying about making enough money to support us, Hallie. I earn enough to buy school supplies and new clothes. We eat better than we used to. We even have warm blankets now. But what if I lose my job at the garage? How would we live if we don’t move in with the Carlsons?”

  Hallie shook her head. “You won’t lose it. You’re too good a mechanic. Besides, we’ve made it by ourselves so far.”

  “I thought you wanted a home.”

  “I do. More than anything, but I want our home, not the Carlsons’ home.” She paused. “Please, Tom.”

  Tom studied his sister for a long time. Then his shoulders dropped and he nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

  The two went back inside, and Tom cleared his throat. “Nobody’s ever been as good to us as you folks,” he said. “We wouldn’t have made it without you. So we appreciate your offer more than we can say. But I don’t believe we can accept. You see, we’ve gotten awful independent and ornery since we’ve been on our own. I’d be afraid living under your roof wouldn’t work out, and then we’d have to move on. I wouldn’t ever want that to happen.”

  Tom looked to Hallie for approval. She gave a slight nod. “We never knew anybody as kind as you. I hope you won’t think we’re not grateful,” she said.

  “No such a thing,” Mrs. Carlson replied. “Swede, I told you they were independent.” She turned to Hallie. “We’ll think of you as neighbors then, the best neighbors we ever had.” She stood up. “Let’s us do the dishes, Hallie. Do you want to wash or dry?”

  As they walked home later that night, Tom said, “I sure hope you’re right about this. The Carlsons would be our family.”

  “We already are a family, our own family,” Hallie said. “I think we’ve done a pretty good job on our own.”

  “How about that, Ben?” Tom asked. “You think we’ve done a good job?”

  “Okay,” Benny said.

  chapter eight

  Supper Guests

  On a crisp November afternoon, Hallie and Benny walked into town to meet Tom after work at the garage. Tom’s hours were eight in the morning until five at night and sometimes longer when he was repairing a car. He’d long since replaced the transmission on the Model T. Still he didn’t drive the car unless he had to because he wanted to save money on gasoline. The walk was nice, he said.

  Hallie liked Mr. Ulman. He didn’t mind if she and Benny stopped by. Sometimes Mr. Ulman even gave Benny a penny and told him to go across the street and buy a piece of candy. So on Saturdays, Hallie and Benny often went into town to meet their brother.

  That day, it took a long time to walk the mile to the garage. Benny had to examine each rock and bug they passed. He kicked up dust until his feet were the color of the road. Several cars passed them. Benny waved to each one. Two of them stopped. The drivers asked Hallie about work. Hallie shook her head. One driver thanked her. The other stared at Benny and asked, “What’s wrong with that kid?”

  “Nothing,” Hallie replied. She muttered, “What a stupid question.”

  “Don’t say ‘stupid,’” Benny told her.

  Hallie grinned at the little boy.

  When they reached the station, they saw Harold’s Terraplane coupe parked at the gas pump, with Harold and Dan sitting in it. Tom was filling the car’s tank with gas. Hallie and Benny stood in the shade, out of sight, admiring the automobile. It was dirty, but it still shone in the harsh sunlight. Harold had the top down. Hallie thought the car looked swell. She wondered if the leather seats were hot from the sun.

  “Hey, boy, you spilled gas on my car,” Harold yelled, after Tom finished. He was putting the cap back on the gas tank.

  Hallie had been watching closely and knew that Tom hadn’t spilled. Still, he took a rag and wiped the area around the cap. Then he washed the car windows. He used a towel to polish them until they shone.

  When Tom was finished, Harold said, “You missed a spot, boy.”

  Tom stiffened. Hallie knew he was angry at being called “boy.” He didn’t say anything, however. She almost wished he’d reach into the car and punch Harold. Of course he didn’t dare. He would lose his job if he did. Instead, Tom glared at Harold, his fists clenched. Hallie, holding Benny’s hand, stepped out into the sunlight and came to stand next to her older brother. “You got a big dent in your fender,” she told Harold.

  “Well, look at that. The squatter girl can see. Aren’t you the bright one!”

  Tom took a quick step toward the car, but Hallie grabbed his arm. “Leave be. He’s not worth it. He’s just a jerk.”

  “Who you calling a jerk?” Harold opened the door of the car and stepped out. He glared at Hallie.

  Tom narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you touch my sister!”

  Dan smiled a little at Hallie and said, “Aw, can it, Harold.”

  Harold looked Tom up and down, sizing him up. Tom was bigger. He was stronger, too, because of the heavy farm work he did. Harold sneered at Tom and then got back into the car. “She’s not worth it. She’s just a piece of stupid trash.”

  “Don’t say ‘stupid,’” Benny said.

  Harold looked at the little boy. “There’s that kid.”

  “So what? Let’s get out of here,” Dan said.

  “Yeah. We’re wasting time.” Harold leaned over the car door and said, “Go on back to Oklahoma. This isn’t your home. You better keep a sharp watch behind you. We’ll catch up with you one day.” He pulled away, coming within inches of Hallie. She heard Harold laugh as the car sped down the road.

  “The way he
drives, he’s liable to wreck that car,” Tom said.

  “Why does he hate us?” Hallie asked as she watched the Hudson disappear.

  Tom shook his head.

  “I’ll tell you why,” Mr. Ulman said. Hallie hadn’t seen him come out of the garage. She hoped he wasn’t angry with Tom. After all, Harold and his father were customers. The garage needed customers to stay in business. Mr. Ulman put his hand on Benny’s head and said, “Hi, Benny.”

  He turned back to Hallie. “I’ll tell you,” he repeated. “Harold has no self-respect. He’s never worked a day in his life. Funny thing is I bet he wishes Tom was his friend. I believe he admires Tom.”

  Tom shook his head and muttered, “I doubt it.”

  “No. I believe he does. That boy knows you’re a better man.”

  “What about Dan?” Hallie asked. “Is he that way, too?”

  “Oh, Dan is all right by himself, but he doesn’t have a backbone. I think hanging around with Harold makes him feel important.” Mr. Ulman took a rag from his back pocket and wiped a smudge on the gas pump. “I got to say I admire you, too, Tom, you and your sister.”

  “Not everybody does,” Hallie told him. “Some people tell us to git. They say we ought to go back to where we came from.”

  “These are hard times. I’d tell Harold to take his business elsewhere, but I can’t afford to. I need the money. And you need the job, Tom. That’s why you didn’t punch him. For a minute there, I thought you would. I wouldn’t have blamed you, but I’d have had to fire you.” He swatted Tom with the towel, then stuffed it back into his pocket. As he turned to go, he spotted an old car that was pulling to a stop. It was loaded down with a family and belongings. Mr. Ulman shook his head. “Everybody’s got it tough,” he said.

  Hallie looked at the car, too. Mattresses were tied to the roof with rope. Piled on top of them were chairs and a battered trunk. A man sat in the driver’s seat. Beside him was a sad-faced woman holding a baby. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. Two children sat in the back seat. They looked tired and dirty. Their faces were thin. Hallie knew they were hungry.