American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1

by Susan Martins Miller, Norma Jean Lutz, Bonnie Hinman

  “Oh, you silly, silly girl,” answered another mocking voice, “just take the whole library home with you. Why, we don’t mind at all.”

  Snickers and giggles followed as though that were the funniest joke of the century. Her face burning, Mandy slipped the books back into their places and hurried back to the classroom. Those girls were probably hooking little fingers as they laughed.

  As if things couldn’t get any worse, later that afternoon, Mrs. Crowley handed back their spelling tests. Laying Mandy’s paper on her desk, the teacher announced to the whole world, “First spelling test of the year, and Mandy McMichael received the only perfect score in the entire class. Fine job, Mandy. Fine job!” And the old lady actually patted Mandy’s shoulder with her thin vein-lined hand.

  Mandy shuddered inwardly and wanted to drop through the floor. Sure enough, when school was dismissed and the students filled the halls, she heard the mocking voices behind her, “Fine job, Mandy Einstein. Fine, fine job. We’re so, so proud of you.”

  Mandy was sure she was going to die right there in the front hall of Queen Anne School!

  CHAPTER 4

  Mephibosheth

  On Saturday night, Lora had a date with Mark, and Peter was working at the filling station. But the rest of the family planned to spend the evening with the Mikimotos. Mandy was pleased. A hurricane could be blowing Seattle off the map, yet inside the Mikimoto home it would still be serene and peaceful. Mr. and Mrs. Mikimoto simply wouldn’t allow it to be any other way.

  The Mikimoto children had been their playmates all the years the McMichaels had lived at the Fairfax. Baiko and Dayu not only played games with John but always included Mandy as well. And even though their older sister, Hideko, was Caroline’s age, she never treated Mandy like a little kid. In fact, Mandy had never known a left-out feeling while she lived there.

  Even Caroline seemed happy that they were going back for a visit. As they drove through downtown Seattle in the DeSoto, Caroline wondered aloud if Hideko would still be her friend.

  Mother tried to calm her fears. “Don’t worry, Caroline,” she said, “you know how loyal the Japanese are. Hideko will never stop being your friend.”

  Dad parked on the street in front of the large, red-brick building. The sidewalk was flanked by almost every business imaginable. A friendly Italian restaurant stood next to the stairs that led to the front entrance of the hotel. Farther down the street was the secondhand store where Mama and Dad had purchased many of their clothes when they first arrived in Seattle. Next came the barbershop, and on the corner was the cigar shop.

  Down the other way was the union office with the filthy fly-specked front windows, the Chinese laundry, and the burlesque house, where they were forbidden to even peek inside one of the painted windows. Mandy marveled that everything was just as they’d left it. Even the heavy aromas from the Italian restaurant were exactly the same.

  As soon as Mrs. Mikimoto politely answered the door and ushered them in, Mandy could smell the aroma of rice balls with pickled plums in the center. Her favorite. She was the only one of the McMichaels who loved the bright-red salty plums as much as the Mikimotos.

  Bowing and offering polite greetings, Mr. and Mrs. Mikimoto led the McMichaels into the dining room, where they took their seats. The small dining room was adjacent to Mrs. Mikimoto’s kitchen. Everything in the hotel was compact and orderly.

  Mother had brought along two freshly baked pies, which Mrs. Mikimoto insisted she shouldn’t have done. But Mrs. Mikimoto graciously took them and set them on the kitchen counter. Mama had always said she hoped the Mikimotos’ good manners would rub off on all her children.

  As they ate, Dad and Mr. Mikimoto talked about the rumors of war with Japan. “It is as though the madness of Hitler has touched the militarists of Japan,” said Mr. Mikimoto, shaking his head gravely. “And whatever madness they perform, those around here blame us.”

  John lay down his red-lacquered chopsticks. “No one can blame you for what’s happening clear across the Pacific, can they? Why, that would be like blaming every German-American for what Hitler is doing.”

  “They can,” said Mr. Mikimoto, “and they do.” He paused while his wife brought a fresh pot of tea to the table. “If there is war between Japan and this country, my wife and I will be considered enemy aliens.”

  Mandy nearly choked on her pickled plum. “But Mr. Mikimoto, it’s not your fault that you’re not a citizen,” she protested. “The law won’t let you. Isn’t that right?”

  Mr. Mikimoto gave a polite nod in her direction. “Quite so, Mandy. We are prevented from becoming citizens by the immigration law passed way back in 1924. Perhaps because people are afraid of us. I do not know.”

  Mandy couldn’t imagine anyone being afraid of this kind and gentle man.

  “What’s an alien?” Ben wanted to know.

  Ignoring his little brother, John said, “You want to become citizens and can’t, yet you’re considered aliens because you’re not citizens. Doesn’t make much sense to me.”

  “Thank goodness we’re all citizens,” Baiko said, waving his hand to include himself, his brother, and his sister.

  “That’s right,” Dayu echoed. “I’m no alien.”

  “What’s an alien?” Ben asked again.

  “Someone who’s not a citizen of a country,” Mother answered him.

  “What’s a citizen?” Susan asked.

  Dad chuckled. “Five years old—the question-asking age.” Turning to the twins, he said, “I’ll explain it when we get home tonight.”

  “Enough of all this depressing talk,” Hideko said. “Mama-san, may we be excused so I can show our guests the new addition to the family?”

  “What new addition?” John asked.

  “You’ll see,” Hideko said, her almond eyes squinting as she smiled.

  “What?” Dad teased her. “No apple pie?”

  “We can have pie later,” Dayu said as he scooted back his chair. “May we go, Mama-san?”

  “You may,” Mrs. Mikimoto said in her quiet voice.

  As they filed out into the apartment hallway, John asked, “What do you mean about a new addition? You have new people coming into the hotel almost every day.”

  “Not a tenant, silly,” Baiko said, punching John on the shoulder.

  “To my room,” Hideko ordered.

  “Wait for me,” Susan called as she brought up the rear. Mandy waited for her and then picked up her little sister in her arms.

  The children followed after Hideko, trying to keep their giggles down so as not to disturb other guests.

  Hideko opened the door to her cozy little bedroom, which was lined with shelves full of books and exquisite handmade Japanese dolls in silk kimonos. There, lying in the center of her bed, was a half-grown gray and white kitten.

  “Ohh,” Susan breathed. “A kitty-cat.”

  “I thought your mama said she wouldn’t allow you to have pets,” Caroline said as she sat down beside the kitten and began petting it.

  Hideko laughed. “We kept pestering her, and she finally gave in. Right, boys?”

  “Right,” Dayu said with a big smile. “And Mittens has already earned her keep. She killed two mice in one week.”

  “And that convinced Father right away to let us keep her,” Hideko said. “She was a stray out in the alley, and we fed her for a while before asking if we could keep her.”

  Dayu crawled over the foot of the bed and sat down in the corner. “Mama said that if her grandfather were alive and were here, he’d call the cat a goblin.”

  “A goblin?” Caroline asked, petting the kitten. “How could anyone call this cute little thing a goblin?”

  Mandy pushed in and sat Susan down on the bed so they could pet the kitten, too. Its fur was silky and felt soft and clean. “She doesn’t look like an alley cat.” Mandy felt the rumble of purring beneath her fingertips.

  “You can bet Hideko has already given her a couple baths,” Dayu said.

  “
She may hate water,” Hideko said, “but it’s easier to get her into the tub than either of my two brothers.”

  Her joke set them all to laughing. The fun and laughter made Mandy forget for a moment that she didn’t live in their comfortable old apartment where she fit in. Even Caroline seemed to be her old self and not so bossy.

  After fussing over Mittens, they all went to the vacant lot to play kickball until it grew too dark to see the ball. Kickball in the vacant lot with the Mikimoto children was much different than kickball in phys-ed class at Queen Anne School. Even Susan and Ben joined in. Baiko and Dayu were especially careful to kick the ball gently to the little ones.

  Later, they went back in, laughing and hot and dusty and sweaty. Mrs. Mikimoto let them take their pie and glasses of milk into the boys’ bedroom, where they turned on the radio and listened to Inner Sanctum and The Shadow. The grown-ups were listening to The Hit Parade, which was pretty boring.

  Mandy had to move over a stack of comic books to make room to sit on the floor. The Mikimoto boys and John used to have contests to see who could collect the most Captain Marvel comics. The Mikimotos usually won. They had twice the allowance money as John.

  The radio shows were spooky, and the boys wanted to turn out the lights and listen in the dark. And they did—until Susan started crying. Hideko quickly took Susan onto her lap, wiping away her tears and telling her everything was all right. Mandy thought that Ben looked just as scared, but he didn’t cry.

  After that, they left the lights on, but they still had a good time. And because it was such a special night, they were each allowed to have two pieces of pie. Susan couldn’t eat all hers, so the boys finished it for her.

  As they drove through brightly lit downtown Seattle back to Queen Anne Hill, Susan fell sound asleep, leaning heavily against Mandy’s side. How Mandy wished the evening could have lasted forever.

  When they stopped at the house, Dad came around to the backseat and gently lifted Susan up in his arms to carry her inside. As he did, she roused enough to ask in a sleepy voice, “Daddy, what’s an alien?” making all the rest of them laugh. Ben, however, was still wide-awake.

  Later, Mandy lay awake, thinking about the fun she’d had that evening. She heard Lora coming in from her date, and she could hear through the walls Lora and Caroline’s excited voices chattering together. Mandy bet Lora was telling Caroline all about her date, the places where she and Mark had gone, and the romantic things they’d done together.

  She heard Lora turn on the phonograph and put on the Glen Miller recording of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Lora had lots of phonograph records, and lucky Caroline got to share them now that they were in the same bedroom.

  When they’d lived at the Fairfax, Mandy and Susan slept in the upper bunks of the two bunk beds, and the older girls were below. Mandy would lay there pretending to be asleep, yet listening to the older girls’ conversations. Now she was stuck off with the baby as though she, too, were a baby in the family. And they didn’t have a phonograph player in their room.

  Why couldn’t Caroline have shared a room with Susan and let Mandy be with Lora? No one had even asked her opinion in the matter. Perhaps her opinions didn’t even count.

  Thick, foggy mist hung in the air as they left for church the next morning. Mark had come by early to pick up Lora. They sang in the choir, and extra rehearsals were held before Sunday school started. Lora came home so late and rose so early that Mandy wondered how her sister could go on so little sleep.

  The big, stone church with its heavy bell tower stood at the edge of the downtown business district. Dad had promised them when they moved that they would continue attending their old church, for which Mandy was thankful. A few of the girls she’d gone to school with at Bailey Gatzert were in her Sunday school class. Everything had been fine during the summer. But now that school had started, her friends Sarah Marie and Liza were talking about activities at school, and none of it concerned Mandy.

  When they asked about Queen Anne School, all she could say was, “It’s okay.” Which, of course, it was not. Not even close.

  Mandy loved Pastor Martin. He was young and had a pretty wife and two little sons. His sermons were colorful and easy to understand. She hardly ever fidgeted when he preached. Which is more than she could say for Ben and John. They were always getting into trouble. Mama said John was a bad influence on Ben. Mandy agreed.

  “John, you should be setting a good example,” Mama would say in her exasperated tone.

  “I’m trying,” John would answer in a feeble attempt to defend himself.

  “You’re not trying hard enough,” Mama would reply.

  It was a conversation that everyone in the family knew by heart.

  This morning, Pastor Martin was preaching from the book of 2 Samuel, using the story of Jonathan’s crippled son who had the long name of Mephibosheth. King David had made an oath to show kindness to the family of his friend Jonathan, Pastor explained. After Jonathan had died and David became king, he remembered his promise and began to search the land for members of Jonathan’s family.

  Mandy turned to the passages in her small, white Bible. She followed along, listening to Pastor tell how David looked for Mephibosheth. When he found the man, he brought him into the king’s house. But Mephibosheth was crippled in his feet.

  “Poor Mephibosheth,” Pastor said. “He was embarrassed and ashamed. He bowed down and said, ‘What is thy servant, that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?’” Pastor Martin smiled. “What a surprise was in store for this man who was unable to walk normally. He was told that he would eat bread at the king’s table every day.”

  Mandy thought about Helga being lame in her feet and the strange way she walked. She was sort of like Mephibosheth, although Mandy couldn’t imagine brash Helga bowing down and saying she was like a dead dog.

  “King David,” Pastor continued, “sent for one of Saul’s servants and commanded him and his sons and servants to till the land and bring the fruit of it to Mephibosheth.” Closing his Bible, Pastor looked over the congregation and said, “God is faithful to His promises, even more so than King David. He doesn’t care if we are lame or crippled. He loves us and wants us all to come and eat at His table.”

  As they stood to sing “Come and dine, the master calleth, come and dine,” Mandy wondered if Helga knew that God loved her in spite of her crippled feet.

  CHAPTER 5

  Lora’s Surprise

  At school on Monday morning, Mandy met Miss LaFayette in the hallway. The librarian was dressed in a pale-yellow dress with a knife-pleated skirt and softly bloused bodice. Her short, curly hair was fluffed perfectly around her small face, and her red lipstick was flawless.

  “Good morning, Mandy,” she said. As Mandy drew near, she caught a whiff of Evening in Paris cologne. Lora used that, too.

  Mandy was surprised that the librarian had remembered her name. She mumbled her greeting and started to pass by, but Miss LaFayette stopped, so Mandy stopped as well.

  “Did you finish your two books over the weekend?”

  Mandy nodded, hoping no one was listening. She’d finished the books all right, but Caroline had called her a lazybones and accused her of reading as an excuse to get out of work.

  “Tell you what,” Miss LaFayette said. “Since you’re such a book lover, if you get here a little bit early in the morning, come down to the library, and I’ll let you switch your two books for two more.”

  Mandy felt her heart skip a beat. “Honest? Could I do that?” She was wondering if she could force herself to get up earlier in the morning.

  “You may do that,” Miss LaFayette answered, her brown eyes smiling.

  “Thank you very much,” Mandy breathed, then hurried to put her books away.

  Later, as the students filed into the classroom, one of the girls in the Golden Ring was mimicking Helga’s strange way of walking. Everyone else laughed. Mrs. Crowley’s back was turned, and she didn’t seem to know anything w
as happening.

  “Dummies.” Helga dropped heavily into her seat, making her desk shake—and the one in front of her as well. “Bunch of dummies is all you are,” she said in a grating whisper. Her words made them laugh all the more. Elizabeth and Jane hooked little fingers across the aisle.

  Mandy realized they wanted Helga to say something. And she always did.

  All the girls had purchased their gym suits, and showers after phys-ed class were required. Most of them turned on the water in the stalls and then jumped in quickly and back out just as quickly. Not Helga. She was the only one who stood inside the curtained stall for any length of time and actually used the soap.

  One day after gym class was over, the hot, sweaty girls crowded into the locker room laughing and talking. When they’d done their usual spritz in and out of the showers, Mandy heard Jane Stevens say, “Hey, Elizabeth. Look here.” Mandy turned to see that she was pointing to Helga’s clothes lying in a rumpled pile along with the unsightly built-up shoes.

  “Well, well,” Elizabeth said, running her hairbrush through her long, silky hair. “What do you know? Dirty laundry.”

  The other girls giggled. Helga’s dresses were plain and unattractive, and her one red cardigan sweater, which she wore nearly every day, was frayed along the cuffs of the sleeves.

  “What do we do with dirty laundry?” Elizabeth asked, laying her brush down on the edge of the sink.

  “Why, we wash them, of course.” This bit of wisdom came from Renee Ford. Mandy thought Renee looked much too innocent to be part of the Ring, but who could tell? Renee picked up the clothes with one hand, while holding her nose with the other. “Shall I?”

  “Dirty laundry needs washing,” Jane said with a smirk. “We’re doing her a favor.”

  Renee dumped the clothes into a shower stall, and Jane tossed the shoes and stockings in after them.