“I’m going home for lunch, remember?”
“I’ll probably see you at recess then.” And he was gone. The traitor.
Though most of the students were out on the playground, a few were in the hall, probably looking for their classrooms as well.
The school had three wings—A, B, and C, the lady in the office explained. Mandy took the twins down the long hallway of C wing to the very end. There the friendly kindergarten teacher, looking not much older than Lora, met them at the door.
“Hello, there,” she said. “I’m Miss Applegate.”
Ben giggled. Leaning over to Susan, he said, “Do we bring apples to Miss Applegate?” Then Susan giggled.
“Some students do,” said Miss Applegate. “You must be the McMichael twins.”
Susan lifted up her armload of stuff. “I have all my supplies right here. I’m ready for school.”
“I see you are,” Miss Applegate answered. Then she smiled at Mandy as though they had a secret together. “Come in, children, and I’ll show you where to put your things away.”
The twins never looked back. The teacher glanced back at Mandy, mouthed “Thank you,” and turned away as well.
Now Mandy had to walk all the way back down C wing by herself. The fourth-grade room was in A wing on the opposite side of the office.
As she approached the main hall again, a girl came running around the corner and nearly slammed into her. Mandy would have recognized that flowing honey-colored hair anywhere. It was the girl she’d seen in the park.
After catching her balance, the girl said, “Hey, you need to watch where you’re going.”
Mandy hadn’t been the one who was running, but she said nothing. She just kept on walking.
When she found the fourth-grade room, she quickly discovered why the girls at the park said “Dowdy Mrs. Crowley.” Stepping inside, she saw an elderly woman standing at the blackboard, writing on the board with a shaky hand that was etched with wrinkles and blue veins. Her close-cropped, thin gray hair allowed bits of pink scalp to show through. Why does the school board allow such an old woman to continue teaching? Mandy wondered.
She stood at the door a moment. No other students were in the room. Mandy hoped that meant she could choose where she wanted to sit. She cleared her throat in hopes of being noticed. The teacher didn’t seem to hear. Mandy stepped farther into the room, hoping her footsteps would attract attention. Nothing. Mrs. Crowley kept on writing. She wrote a Scripture verse, and then added the date, September 5, 1939, and her name, Mrs. Violet Crowley.
Clearing her throat again, Mandy took two more steps and said, “Excuse me, please.”
“What?” Mrs. Crowley turned about. “Well, well. A new student. You aren’t supposed to be in here yet. All the children are out on the playground.”
Didn’t this teacher even want to know who she was? “May I put my things down?” Mandy’s arms were getting tired of holding the books and supplies.
Mrs. Crowley waved a veined hand, covered lightly with chalk dust. “Put them anywhere, and get on out to the playground, child.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mandy didn’t hurry as she walked around the room looking for an empty desk. She found one midway in the row nearest the windows. After she set her things down, she walked slowly to the main hall and out the front door. Just as she opened the door, a loud electric buzzer sounded, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Get in line,” came a voice from behind her.
The students were lining up by grades, but Mandy had no idea which grade was which until she saw the girl with the honey-colored hair. She went to the end of that line.
As she walked with the others up the stairs and down the hall, she noticed a girl in line ahead of her who was nearly as tall as a sixth-grader. Not just tall, but big-boned. And when she walked, she limped along with a strange, rolling gait. The special-built shoes, one with a sole thicker than the other, were uglier than Mandy’s brown oxfords. Much uglier. The girl’s hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in days. Mandy tried not to stare.
After Mrs. Crowley brought her class to order—which took a little while—she called the roll. That’s when Mandy learned that the girl with the limp was Helga Gottman. And the girl with the pretty honey-colored hair was Elizabeth Barrington.
When Mandy’s name was called, she answered so softly Mrs. Crowley didn’t hear. Looking up, she scanned the room, glaring over her small reading glasses as though she had two sets of eyes. “Mandy McMichael?” she said, raising her voice. “Speak loudly and clearly, please.”
Some of the kids snickered.
Blushing, Mandy answered in a louder voice. “Here.” They snickered again.
After the morning Scripture reading, prayer, flag salute, and singing of the national anthem, Mrs. Crowley reviewed who had which textbooks and workbooks and which ones still needed to be ordered. When those details were out of the way, she asked the students to take out their math books.
By this time, Mandy had the four girls from the Golden Ring figured out. Elizabeth, of course, and a dark-haired girl named Jane Stevens. The other two were Renee Ford and Lily Madison. The four were sitting in a close little group just one row over from Mandy. After they made a joke, the girls would hook little fingers, like a secret handshake. Mandy saw no other girls hooking little fingers except the four in the Golden Ring.
They whispered during class time, but Mrs. Crowley didn’t seem to mind. Or perhaps she couldn’t hear.
“How many of you know your multiplication tables by heart?” Mrs. Crowley asked. “All the way up to twelve.”
Mandy raised her hand without thinking. She should have waited a moment. Hers was the only hand up. Unless there was one behind her …
“Only one student?” Mrs. Crowley asked. Her tone was one of shock.
Mandy put her hand down quickly, feeling the cold stares around her. The four in the Golden Ring were twittering softly. Was there something wrong with knowing all the times tables by heart?
Lora had helped her with fractions and decimals last winter, but when Mrs. Crowley asked who knew about fractions and decimals, Mandy wouldn’t have raised her hand for anything.
The morning dragged on until it was time for recess. At least Mandy thought it was supposed to be recess. Instead, they were to report to the gymnasium for a physical education class, as Mrs. Crowley called it. Students in junior high schools and high schools had phys-ed classes, but a grammar school? This didn’t sound like much fun to Mandy.
The phys-ed teacher’s name was Miss Bowen. Miss Bowen carried an important-looking clipboard and had a big voice that filled the entire gymnasium. Her booming voice bounced against the high ceilings and came down on their heads like a driving rain. Dressed in navy-blue shorts, a white blouse, and trim white sneakers, Miss Bowen shouted, “All right, everybody. File in and sit on the floor in neat, straight rows.”
Helga Gottman’s special shoes made an awful clomping sound as she made her roll-step right up to the front, right under Miss Bowen’s nose.
“Wouldn’t you know? It’s tottery, doddery Gottman,” hissed a voice down the row from Mandy. Snickers followed. It was Elizabeth and her adoring followers.
“Quiet!” came Miss Bowen’s booming voice. “I’ll be the only one talking in this room.”
Elizabeth whispered, “You call that talking?” Again the girls snickered.
Mandy wondered if the girls did anything besides snicker at other people. She was already beginning to dislike Queen Anne Grammar—most intensely.
When Miss Bowen described the year’s plan for phys-ed class—the gym suits they had to wear, showers they had to take, laps they had to run, and sports they all must be involved in—Mandy was ready to go back to Yesler Way and live with the Mikimotos!
CHAPTER 3
Library Day
The dramatic theme music for the Romance of Helen Trent was playing on the radio when Mandy and the twins walked into the kitchen for lunch. After Helen Trent
would come Our Gal Sunday. All through the summer as she helped Mama around the house, Mandy listened to the soap operas to see what would happen the next day. The make-believe world always had many problems, but there were always answers.
Her favorite was Just Plain Bill, “a story about people who might be your own next-door neighbors,” the announcer told listeners. But Mandy couldn’t think of anyone she knew who were like the people on the radio shows.
“To get your teeth doubly clean,” the radio announcer was saying as Mandy washed up at the kitchen sink, “use Dr. Lyons’ Tooth Powder. Dr. Lyons removes film and surface stain with its remarkable cleaning power.”
Peter had said once that if they believed everything the radio advertisers said, they’d have to use fifteen different tooth powders and twenty different kinds of laundry soap.
The wringer washer was sitting in the middle of the kitchen chugging away, giving off the clean, soapy aromas of wash day. Mandy would have been more than happy to stay home and help hang the laundry out on the clothesline. Mama turned off the washing machine long enough to serve up their bowls of tomato soup and cheese sandwiches, then turned back to guiding the clothes carefully through the wringer into the rinse water.
Between doing the laundry and listening to the twins raving about their wonderful first day of kindergarten, Mama hardly had a moment to look at Mandy. How Mandy wished Mama would ask her how the day was for her. But even if she had, Mandy wasn’t sure she would have been able to answer. After all, she didn’t want to be a whiny baby. That’s what John called her when she complained.
She did tell her mother about needing a gym suit. Mama looked up from the steamy laundry and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “Really? I don’t remember seeing that on the list.”
“Whether it was or not, I still need it. We have physical education class every morning.”
Mama just nodded. “I suppose I can run downtown after the wash is hung out and the twins finish their naps.” She went back to her work. Ma Perkins was coming on just as Mandy left to go back to school.
The afternoon was worse than the morning, only without Miss Bowen’s shouting. During geography, Mandy forgot for a moment where she was, and when Mrs. Crowley asked a question, her hand shot up before she could stop it.
“Show-off,” she heard someone whisper. Unlike Miss Bowen in the noisy gymnasium, Mrs. Crowley heard none of the whispering.
The afternoon hours dragged slowly by. At recess, Mandy kept to herself, which was more than easy since no one paid a bit of attention to her. She didn’t know which was worse, being ignored or being tormented like Helga. Neither she nor Helga seemed to fit in anywhere. The only difference was Helga fought back. For Mandy, it was safer to retreat.
John, on the other hand, was involved in a rousing, noisy game of baseball with all the other fellows. He was an outfielder, but at least he was in the game. Maybe it was easier being a boy. Tomorrow she’d bring a book to read at recess time.
“It’s your week to do the ironing,” Caroline said to Mandy as they set the table for supper that evening.
“I know, I know.” Mandy certainly didn’t need Caroline to tell her what jobs belonged to whom since Mama kept the job schedule posted on the corkboard beside the fridge. Anyone with eyes could see it. Actually, it was Lora and Mandy’s week. One week Mama and Caroline took on the bushel basket of ironing, the next week Lora and Mandy took it. But Caroline hadn’t mentioned Lora.
The familiar chug of Mark’s Ford sounded outside as he brought Lora home from work. He worked as a longshoreman for Gaylor Shipping.
“Will Mark be staying for supper?” Mandy asked, wondering if they needed another place setting.
“Well, we can’t know that until Lora comes in, now can we?” Caroline snapped.
“I just asked,” Mandy said softly. What had she done to make her older sister so snippity?
When a smiling Lora came through the door and they heard the sound of the Ford backing out of the drive, Caroline said to Mandy, “There’s your answer.” Mandy ignored her.
Lora was glowing, as she always was after she’d been with Mark for any length of time. “Hi, everyone,” she said as she breezed through the kitchen. “I’ll get changed and be right down to help.”
Mandy watched her older sister with eyes of envy. She tried, without much success, to imagine what it would be like to belong to someone special like Lora belonged to her Mark.
Peter would be arriving shortly from his after-school job of pumping gas at the Tydol filling station. He always came home with grease up to his elbows and grimy fingernails. Mandy never thought he really liked doing such a messy job. But as he said, “It’s a job.”
Dad, on the other hand, wouldn’t be there for supper. Since Dad had been working overtime at Boeing, Mama kept his supper warm in the oven.
All through supper the conversation danced about from one young McMichael to the next as they told the happenings of their first day of school. Mandy said very little. Presently, Peter happened to look over at her.
“You’re awful quiet tonight, little sis.” He stretched his long leg under the table and tapped her ankle with his foot. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Everything’s okay.” She forced her face to smile.
“I know what Mandy’s problem is,” John put in.
Mandy held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t tell how she was off by herself at recess.
“What is it, John?” Susan asked, her face screwed up in a frown. “What’s Mandy’s problem?”
“Her class hasn’t had library day yet. Ours is tomorrow.”
“Library day?” Mandy was sure she hadn’t heard Mrs. Crowley say anything about a library day.
Lora laughed. “Well, we all know everything’s all right in Mandy’s world once she locates the library.”
“Hey, now,” Peter countered. “Nothing wrong with loving a good book. Right, Mandy?”
“Right, Peter.” It felt good to hear Peter talk as though the two of them had a special secret. But the feeling was fleeting as the conversation sailed right on. Well, at least she knew there was going to be a library day at Queen Anne School. Things were looking up—even if just a smidgen.
The girls in the Golden Ring chose the time in the locker room to gang up on Helga. The more they made fun of her, the louder Helga talked back to them. The louder she talked back in her raspy voice, the more they laughed at her.
“Move your stuff, Clubfoot,” one of the Golden Ring said to her, pushing her clothes off the bench and onto the damp floor.
“You better cut that out right now,” Helga answered in her thick voice. “And I mean it, too.”
“You better cut that out right now,” another girl mocked.
Mandy wished someone would make them be quiet. But she knew she wasn’t the one to do it. Secretly, she was glad it was Helga and not her they were picking on. Yet even that thought ate at her midsection.
In gym class, the barking Miss Bowen made them run laps around the gymnasium, and Helga had to run right along with all the rest. Of course, she couldn’t keep up in her clumsy, rolling gait. Some of the faster runners passed her several times. Mandy had to give the girl credit. In spite of the rude remarks, Helga kept on huffing and puffing around the gym.
Mandy learned that Friday was library day for the fourth-graders. She could hardly wait. Friday was a welcome day anyway since it meant she’d have two whole days in a row away from Queen Anne School, but now it also meant she’d have fresh new books to read.
The library was located down the stairs just beneath the front office. It was more beautiful than Mandy could ever have imagined. Large, roomy, well lighted, and best of all, well stocked. Afternoon sunshine streamed in through the high windows, laying golden patches on the glossy hardwood floor.
“May I have your attention, fourth-graders?” came a high melodic voice. The murmuring and whispering stopped as a small, brown-eyed young lady stepped into the center of their group
.
“My name is Miss LaFayette, and I’m your new librarian. Welcome to your library day.” She went over the rules of checking books out for only one week and warned them to return books and not lose them. “If you lose a library book, we may have to suspend your borrowing privileges.”
“Say,” whispered a boy standing directly behind Mandy, “what a great reason to lose a book. I don’t want to borrow any anyway. I hate reading.”
Hate reading? Mandy couldn’t imagine such a thing. As the pretty librarian continued to talk, Mandy began to scan the shelves nearest her. She saw fantasies, adventure stories, mysteries, and plenty of biographies of famous people. As soon as Miss LaFayette stopped talking, Mandy grabbed a couple of books and went to the reading area off in the corner. They had a full hour of library time.
When only about fifteen minutes were left, Mandy chose five books from the shelves and stood in line to check them out. When she stepped up to Miss LaFayette’s desk, the librarian looked up at Mandy, her soft brown eyes wide. “Five books?”
Mandy nodded, feeling her face grow red. “Is that all right?”
“There’s a limit of two per week. I mentioned it when I was explaining the rules a moment ago.”
That must have been the moment when Mandy stopped listening and started studying book titles. “I’m sorry. I must have missed that part. But I’ll have two books read by Monday.”
Miss LaFayette chuckled. “I guess you like to read.”
Mandy nodded. She wished she could tell her just how much she loved books, but there were too many ears nearby.
“Choose two for this time,” Miss LaFayette directed. “If you continue to bring your books back on time, we’ll let you check out more.”
Reluctantly, Mandy chose two out of the five and turned to place the other three back on the shelves. As she did, she saw the girls in the Golden Ring hovering near the end of the line of fourth-graders. They were one row away from where Mandy had to return one of the biographies.
Elizabeth’s loud singsong whisper came floating over the bookshelf, “Oh please, Miss LaFayette. Please let me check out fifty books. I promise I’ll have them all back by next week.”
American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1 Page 13
