Beautiful Blue World

by Suzanne LaFleur

  I looked down at my lap.

  “Aren’t you?” When I didn’t answer, she said, “You can’t back out. You’ve signed the papers, as have your parents. Your service is compulsory.”

  Her misunderstanding my silence helped me find my voice.

  “I— There’s been a mistake.”

  “A mistake? You mean, you made a mistake in signing up for the test? In signing those papers?”

  “No. There’s been a mistake in the test.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. If only one student has passed, it must…it would have to be Megs, not me.”

  “Oh,” she repeated, in a very different tone. “Why’s that?”

  “Megs, she’s…she’s the top of the class, always. I’ve never beaten her at an exam. Ever. I couldn’t have beaten her at this one, either.”

  “Hmm. Logic. I see.” The Examiner settled back, as if pleased with our conversation now. “Consider, you used the word always. Was this test like any that you had taken before?”

  “Well, no.”

  “So, if the test was different this time, would it mean that you still couldn’t beat her?”

  I bit my lip.

  “I helped design the test, and I evaluate it. I saw in yours—in you—the qualities I was looking for.”

  “But not in Megs?”

  She cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t discuss another student’s results with you, but you may realize that the way Megs left wasn’t helpful to her score.”

  “But—I—we left at the same time.”

  She nodded. “At the same time, yes. But for very different reasons.”

  I didn’t see the difference.

  I twisted the hem of my skirt in my lap. “Can you…take her instead? Her family needs this more.”

  The Examiner smiled, as if I had proven something to her. “No. I chose you. I still choose you.”

  I sighed.

  “Well, if you want me, can’t you also take Megs?”

  “Lucky for you, when this war is over and you are the right age, we will be paying for your university education. You can study law and argue all day if you so desire.”

  That meant no.

  “Any other questions?”

  “Can I go now? My sister, she’s been afraid of this….She’ll be upset.”

  “Yes. But you’ll have a little more time to spend with her. I’ll come by tonight and meet your family.”

  She paused as I stood, as if expecting something more. I remembered her congratulations, as if I’d been awarded an honor. She would be paying my family now, and providing me with food, shelter, an education.

  If I lived to get it.

  “Thank you,” I said stiffly.

  She nodded, and I left.

  MOTHER STOOD IN front of our house, wringing a dish towel, as if she’d been holding it when she heard and never let go.

  Father should have been at the post office, but he was there, holding his arms open.

  I ran to him. He picked me up, held me, my head on his shoulder, like I was still his Little.

  Like I would always be his Little.

  Neighbors stared in silence, lips pressed straight.

  Even Mrs. Heller had nothing to say.

  It wasn’t every day that a girl of twelve was sent to war.

  —

  Mother let Tye play in the kitchen with the real tea set. The one that had been Mother’s mother’s mother’s.

  The one that would have been mine.

  “You’ll stay here with Tye,” Mother told Kammi.

  “But I want to hear!” Kammi’s voice and hands trembled. I hadn’t been able to find her after school; she, like Megs, hadn’t waited for me. Kammi had run home and sat in her bed, not even removing her coat until Mother did it for her.

  “You can listen, we’ll leave the door open,” Mother said.

  She filled the teapot with water, and Father gave each of the girls half a slice of bread for making pretend cakes or biscuits. He caught my eye as he handed out these treats. They would have money for more, now. Maybe they could even have real cakes and real biscuits.

  I sat in a chair in the corner, watching. I didn’t belong to them anymore.

  Mother came and put her hand on my cheek.

  “Come to the living room, love.”

  I nodded and followed her as the doorbell rang. Father went to answer.

  “Good evening, Mr. Joss. I presume you know why I’ve come?”

  “Yes, yes, good evening. Come in.”

  The worn wood floor creaked as she stepped inside.

  “Can I take your coat?” Father asked. “Would you like some tea or water?”

  “No, thank you.” The Examiner came into the living room, still in her coat. She wouldn’t be staying long, then. “Mrs. Joss, Mathilde.”

  Mother rose. “Welcome, please sit.”

  The Examiner took the free chair.

  My parents sat on either side of me on the sofa, Mother’s hand on my knee, Father’s on my shoulder. I thought about their gentle pressure until I realized the Examiner had been talking and I wasn’t listening.

  “I’m pleased to inform you, in person, that Mathilde has been selected for service. It’s quite an honor, and all of Sofarende is grateful to her and to you. Mathilde is not only the only pupil in her school, but the only pupil in the city of Lykkelig, whom I have selected. Do you know why, Mathilde?”

  “No.”

  “No matter.” To my parents, she said, “She did very well on her Aptitude Test.”

  Mother nodded; Father remained still.

  “We did want this for her,” Mother said. “We wouldn’t have signed her up otherwise. But I can’t say it hasn’t come as a bit of a shock, to learn she’ll really be going.”

  The Examiner nodded. “You must have many questions. To discuss some practical matters first, you are to put Mathilde on the two-thirteen p.m. train the day after tomorrow.”

  “Alone?” Mother asked.

  “Yes. The train crew will have been alerted to her presence. You needn’t worry.”

  Mother nodded, looking, if possible, somewhat more shocked.

  “She will be considered military personnel, but we do not typically ask the children to be in uniform if they already have adequate clothing.”

  “She has her school clothes,” Mother said.

  “Those will do perfectly. Pack her clothing in a suitcase she can carry. We also encourage the children to bring a small memento from home, perhaps a family photograph or a stuffed toy. It helps them with their homesickness, especially as”—she cleared her throat—“they won’t be allowed any communications in or out once they arrive.”

  My parents stiffened.

  “That’s necessary?” Father asked.

  “Yes. For their safety and military secrecy. You will receive monthly notification of her continued wellness.”

  No more Father and Mother.

  No more Kammi and Tye.

  No more Megs.

  “While her whereabouts will be a secret, you can rest assured that no children will be sent to the front. I can promise her safety to that extent, but I cannot guarantee that we won’t be bombed.”

  Father nodded. “The same as here.”

  “Precisely.”

  “When will she be allowed home?” Mother asked.

  “Because of the confidential nature of her work, that will be when we see fit to release her; expect it to be after the end of the conflict.”

  “And we don’t know when that will be,” Mother said softly.

  “Perhaps not until she’s grown up,” Father said, even more softly. “But maybe this will give her that chance.”

  The Examiner nodded. “I hope so. Our bomb shelter is under concrete and steel, which is more than we can say for those of most civilian homes, unfortunately.”

  She handed my father an envelope. He opened it. It was stuffed full of paper bills: four hundred orins. He looked at the money sadly.

  He ha
d said that I was worth more to him than that.

  “Inside the envelope is the address of the military office a few blocks from here where you can go for your family’s weekly pay; you will need to show identification. We’ve included a few other backup addresses in case something happens to that office.”

  No one said anything about where to go if something happened to all the offices. Maybe they’d just be glad to think I had food and somewhere to sleep.

  Assuming those things were true.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

  What was there to ask? Location: secret. Work: confidential.

  Mother took my hand and asked the Examiner, “Will you be there with the children?”

  “When I’m not recruiting or on a mission, I’ll be on-site, yes. We have a large staff who helps look after them. I’ll leave you to enjoy these last days together. I know this is…difficult, but we all must do what we can in these times, and this is a great opportunity for Mathilde. It really is. You should be very proud of her achievement and of how you’ve raised her.”

  She probably hadn’t expected a family numb with dread, but excited and relieved.

  Who could say which was the right way to feel?

  —

  After Father had seen her out, he sat with me while Mother took my sisters up for their bath.

  “Do you want anything?” Father asked cautiously. “Big?”

  “Megs,” I said.

  “It’s late. After dark. The curfew. You can’t go out.”

  “You can,” I whispered through the lump in my throat.

  Father thought, then stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

  He went upstairs and returned in his street patrol outfit.

  I ran and hugged him.

  “Get your coat.”

  He gave me his arm and we set out for Megs’s house.

  When I knocked on the Swillers’ door, her mother opened it.

  “Mathilde!”

  “May Mathilde visit Megs for an hour?” Father asked.

  She nodded. “I’ll get Megs.” While I waited, Father walked home.

  Megs appeared with crossed arms and a steely look.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hello.”

  We stood there.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” I managed.

  She uncrossed her arms. “I know. Come in?”

  I followed her to her attic bedroom. She shut the door and we sat on her bed. Then she hugged me for a long time. I let myself go limp and just be held.

  “I’m sorry,” I sighed.

  “About what?”

  “That they picked me and not you. I tried to tell the Examiner that it should have been you. Or that they should also take you.” And then I whispered, “I never thought you wouldn’t be going.”

  “It was dumb to sign up if you weren’t willing to go alone.” She let go and stepped over to the tiny window above the desk.

  “It’s not that I’m not willing. I just didn’t think it could happen that way.” She didn’t turn. “I won’t be allowed to write to you.”

  She remained still, staring out the window. “You know, at night, when the sirens go off, if I take just a minute, I can see the aerials from here.”

  “Is that why you’re always late?”

  “I just want to know what we’re hiding from,” she said, echoing my own words.

  “Anything out there?”

  “Not yet.”

  She headed back to me and sat down, but so we weren’t touching. My fingers played with the fringe on her bedspread.

  “Do you think they’re going to make us fly aerials?” I asked.

  “That would be smart, wouldn’t it? You’d need less fuel and you could go faster with a crew half the weight of grown men.” Megs leaned back against the wall, as if we were just talking about homework.

  “You answered the questions about the aerials, didn’t you? I mean, you used details and number calculations?”

  “Of course. You must have.”

  But I hadn’t.

  Why would they have picked me over her?

  “You really think they’ll have us flying aerials?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then what do you think they want children to do?”

  “Something only children can do.”

  “But I can’t do anything.”

  Megs moved closer to me again, and looked me in the eyes when she said, “Maybe there’s something only you can do.”

  TYE AND KAMMI SHRIEKED with laughter as Father made a boiled egg disappear, only to reappear moments later. Tye flipped his hands over after each disappearance to confirm that the egg wasn’t there.

  We never had eggs. And Father was treating this one like a toy.

  “No school for you this morning.” Mother set a plate of toast in front of me. She set down a second plate of soft cheese. I hadn’t seen cheese like that since before the war. She squeezed my shoulder. “Eat.”

  “Why no school?”

  “You can go this afternoon to say goodbye to everyone.”

  I coated my bread with cheese. It was both tart and sweet, the way I remembered it. I pushed the cheese plate to the center of the table to share it.

  Kammi headed to school with Eliza Heller, the way she would every day without me. Father left a few minutes later in his post office uniform, holding Tye’s hand, taking her to kindercare. In Tye’s other hand was the boiled egg. She kept looking at it, wondering if it would disappear. If it didn’t, it would be her lunch.

  Did she know how to peel it?

  “Come,” Mother said, putting on her coat with a swoosh.

  Outside, she took my hand like Father had held Tye’s.

  The first store we tried to go to was on a bombed street, so we walked a few more blocks to another shop.

  My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment as we went inside and were surrounded by girls’ underthings.

  It was just like Mother to worry about underthings at a time like this.

  “Can I help you?” the shop-lady asked.

  “Yes. I’d like three warm slips, three warm undershirts and three light ones, and six pairs of panties, all in her size.”

  “Let me measure you,” the shop-lady said to me.

  I let her, and then she looked through stacks of labeled cardboard boxes. “Special occasion?” she asked.

  I think what she meant was: It’s unusual for a family to spend so much money on underwear right now. Not that I mind.

  “Mathilde is going away,” Mother explained.

  “Ah. Off to family up north? Other children are being sent. It’s safer farther from the border, they say.”

  “No. She’s passed the army test.”

  The shop-lady paused. “She has? And you’re letting her go?”

  “We had hoped they would have a place for her.”

  The lady slid several opened boxes toward Mother across the counter. “You have your choice.” Mother looked them over as the lady went on. “I don’t know that I’d be able to separate from one of my own. Send her off into the army to do who knows what.”

  Mother bit her lip. Did she really want to give this woman her money?

  But there wasn’t another shop.

  Mother made her choices. Then she said, “I want another set in the next size.” She looked at me, then back at the shop-lady. “She’ll grow.”

  —

  We walked slowly through the streets, each with a box of new clothes in hand.

  “Why did she try to make you feel bad?” I asked.

  “Sometimes…” Mother searched for the right words. “Sometimes when people don’t have an opportunity, they have to convince themselves that they wouldn’t have wanted it anyway.”

  “But why did she have to say that to you?”

  “She’s scared. Everyone is. I have to trust that I’m doing the right thing for you. And she has to trust that she’s doing the right thing for her children.”

&
nbsp; “But still, why did she have to say that?”

  “It helps her, to say it out loud.”

  “But it hurt you. Did she want to hurt you?”

  “She was protecting herself. It is easy to protect yourself and your loved ones; it is harder to protect and care about others.”

  I thought about that. “But—”

  “You have a lot of buts, Mathilde.”

  “Good thing you bought me all these panties.”

  And then we were both laughing, and Mother drew me to her.

  —

  Mother dropped me off at school with my lunch pail. A large banner stretched across the front of my classroom: WE’LL MISS YOU, MATHILDE!

  I froze in the doorway. But Miss Tameron smiled and Megs came to get me, taking my hand and drawing me inside.

  Miss Tameron set out a plate of little cakes sweetened with dried fruit. “Help yourselves,” she said. The class took cakes and formed little clusters to talk. But I stayed apart from everyone.

  Miss Tameron waved to me, and I went up to her desk.

  “I wish you all the best, Mathilde,” she said. “I hope the world is good to you. And that you are good to the world.”

  I nodded, though I didn’t know what she meant.

  “Visit with the others. Say your goodbyes.”

  I drifted back to Megs at our desks.

  A boy named Stev came over to me. “Why are we celebrating you? Here’s what I think of you.” He crushed his cake to crumbs all over my desk.

  How could he wreck that lovely little cake? How much time and money had it cost Miss Tameron?

  Megs jumped at him, toppling the desk between them. Miss Tameron hurried over and pulled Megs off Stev.

  “Miss Swiller. Miss Joss. Take a walk.”

  She was punishing me at my own farewell party?

  Megs marched to the door.

  “Your coats and hats, girls. Your lunch pails.”

  She meant more than a cool-off walk.

  We collected our things.

  Miss Tameron stepped into the hall with us.

  “Stev ruined your little cake,” I told her.

  “Oh, Mathilde…I don’t care about the cake.” She knelt and hugged me. She held me gently, and for a very long time, not like a teacher, but like Mother.

  —

  We went to the woods.

  “What about your lessons?” I asked Megs.