American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1

by Susan Martins Miller, Norma Jean Lutz, Bonnie Hinman

  He laughed as she described how Baiko and Dayu jumped and kicked and chopped before Jim and Alex knew what hit them.

  “I wish I could have seen it. Tell me again.”

  Mother had instructed John to lie down and stay still, but he was propped up in bed, soaking up Mandy’s every word.

  She described the scene all over again.

  “I can’t believe they’d follow you. Can they really hate the Japanese that much?”

  “I don’t know.” Then she wondered, could the Golden Ring really hate her and Helga as much as they did?

  “There’s one other thing I haven’t told you yet,” she said, grinning.

  “What?”

  “I told Jim and Alex that you knew jujitsu.”

  “You didn’t.” He smiled. “Did you really?”

  “It wasn’t really a lie. You know some, don’t you?”

  “Some,” he agreed. He thought about that a minute. “I may go to the Mikimotos’ on Saturday. I could use a refresher. I never thought I’d need it before this.” He took one of his pillows, fluffed it, and repositioned it. “I wouldn’t ever want to hurt anyone, but maybe I could get the other boys’ respect this way.”

  Mandy thought about that a minute. “I think we get respect by just being ourselves.”

  “I suppose so.” Then John added, “I feel really bad that Baiko and Dayu fought my battle for me. When the guys at school talk about how awful the Japanese are, I don’t say one word in their defense.” He shook his head. “That’s just not right.”

  Mandy didn’t know what to say to him. She knew how hard it was to take a stand when everyone was against you. “Pastor Martin said that Jesus could equip us to do the things we’re supposed to do.”

  John nodded. “Yeah, I know. I heard him.”

  She didn’t see how he could have heard when he was playing tic-tac-toe, but she didn’t argue. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “How about if we pray together?” She could tell John was a little embarrassed. They’d often prayed as a family, but never just the two of them.

  “You go ahead,” he said.

  “Bow your head,” she told him. As they bowed their heads, she asked Jesus to equip both of them to do what He wanted them to do at school.

  As she opened her eyes, she noticed how tired John looked. “You’d better get to sleep, or Mama will kill both of us.”

  He nodded in agreement. That proved how tired he was. And he was missing Jack Armstrong, All-American Boy on the radio. That really proved how tired he was.

  She tiptoed out and went to her room to study.

  Much to her surprise, by the time Mandy had made perfect scores on the Wednesday spelling test three times in a row, no one said a word about it. She could hardly believe it. She still wasn’t included, but at least no one was nagging at her all the time. And she loved her two afternoons a week with Miss LaFayette.

  The librarian was becoming a good friend. They discussed their favorite authors and told why they liked certain story plots better than others. Miss LaFayette even explained to Mandy what was required at college to become a librarian. Mandy thought that would be the greatest job in the whole world.

  Each week, Miss LaFayette trusted her with more and more responsibility. She surprised Mandy one afternoon by telling her she could be the story-reader in the first-grade classroom that afternoon. The first-graders seemed to enjoy having Mandy in their classroom, but she was the one who had the most fun!

  A week after the incident with Jim and Alex, Mandy and John were walking home from school together.

  “You’ll never guess what happened today,” John said. He was smiling.

  “Tell me.”

  “As usual, the guys were going on and on again about how awful the Japanese were, and as simple as you please, I said, ‘They’re like any other group of people in the world. Some are good and some are bad.’”

  “John. Did you really?”

  “I sure did. Know what I said then?”

  “What?”

  “I said, ‘Even Kato, the housekeeper on Green Hornet, is Japanese. And he’s a good person.’”

  “What did they say to that?”

  “They said they guessed that was right. One of the guys pointed out that the Japanese who are attacking China are awful bad. I agreed with him, and then I said, ‘But I bet not all the people who live in Japan agree with what they’re doing—and not all the ones in Seattle agree, either.’”

  “I’m so proud of you, John. Really proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” He grinned at her.

  “Did Jim or Alex say anything?”

  He nodded. “Alex said that the Japanese invented the art of jujitsu and that it was a swell form of self-defense.”

  Mandy laughed.

  Then John said softly, “I’m sure glad you suggested we pray.”

  CHAPTER 14

  In the Limelight

  Spring seemed to woo Mandy outdoors, and she had to admit that Queen Anne Hill was a beautiful place. Much more beautiful than the International District. She loved to go roller-skating near their house.

  But getting off by herself was next to impossible these days. With Caroline taking on more babysitting jobs and Lora gone so much, Mandy became the catch-all girl. She was either keeping an eye on the twins or helping Mama cook, clean, and iron. Sometimes Mandy raised a fuss and told Mama that John could watch the twins as well as she could. It seemed to her that John got off scot-free from everything.

  Of course, that wasn’t completely true because Dad made him wash the car, mow the lawn, and keep the garage clean. But that didn’t take him very long at all.

  On the Saturday afternoon before the quiz contest, Mandy asked permission to skate to Kinnear Park. It took a minute to get Mama’s attention. The Mixmaster was whirring away as she mixed up a chocolate cake for supper. Mama turned it off and cleaned the beaters with a rubber spatula. Miraculously, the twins were nowhere in sight, so Mama handed Mandy a beater to lick.

  As she cleaned off the last bit of chocolate batter, Mandy asked again if she could skate to the park.

  “Kinnear Park?” Mama asked. “All by yourself?”

  Mandy wanted to remind her that John went all over the neighborhood by himself on his bicycle, but she was afraid Mama would remind her that John was a boy and two years older.

  “Yes, all by myself.” She held up a science book. “I’d like to be able to study this before next Friday.”

  Mama raised her eyebrows. “Is the contest that close? My, how time flies.” She wiped her hands on her apron and proceeded to grease the cake pans, lining them with waxed paper so the cake wouldn’t stick. “It’s Friday afternoon at two, right?”

  Mandy nodded. She knew Mama planned to be there. “And I sure need to study.”

  “Yes, I suppose you do. I’m proud of you, Mandy. You’ve made such an improvement in your grades.” She poured the batter into the pans, scraping out the last bit with the spatula. “I suppose you do need time alone.” The bowl clinked as she set it down on the white enamel cabinet. “Oh, all right. But just for an hour. I suppose John can play with the twins for a while.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” Mandy gave her mother a quick hug and ran to get her skates.

  As she sat on the porch, tightening the skates on her shoes with her skate key, she said to the twins, “A cake bowl’s sitting in on the counter waiting to be licked clean.” While they ran inside, she grabbed her book and skated off as fast as she could.

  It was a glorious day. The mist that had hung heavy that morning had lifted, and the sun beamed through the trees, making dappled patches in her path as she skated down the sidewalk toward the park.

  She decided to go to the far side of the park, where she could find a spot that overlooked the sparkling waters of Elliott Bay. People were everywhere, walking, bicycling, skating, and pushing baby buggies. Cars stopped, and families lugged out their picnic baskets, looking around for vacant picnic tables
.

  Mandy sat on a park bench and took off her skates, made her way to a shade tree near a lily pond, and sat down to read the science book. In the distance, the bay spread out before her. Perfect! No sisters or brothers anywhere. Of course, she would have loved to have had Peter come along. If he’d been there, he’d be reading a book as well.

  As the afternoon sun moved across the sky, she got up periodically and moved with the shade. Every once in a while, she glanced up to look around at the people strolling by. At one point, a flash of red made her look off to her left. It was the unmistakable red cardigan belonging to Helga Gottman and the unmistakable roll-step walk. Helga walked up to the rock ledge that surrounded the pool and sat down. She sat there for a time, staring into the water.

  Mandy wondered if the girl lived near the park. What a perfect opportunity this would be to talk to her and learn more about her. With no Golden Ring nearby to spoil things, maybe Mandy could reach out and be a friend to Helga.

  Lifting her strapped-together skates over her shoulder and grabbing her book, Mandy stood up and walked toward the other girl. As she approached, she smiled and said, “Hello, Helga.”

  The girl looked up at her, startled.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you come here often?” Mandy turned and pointed back up the hill. “I live up that way about five or six blocks. That is, I think they’re blocks. All the streets are so curvy in this neighborhood.”

  As she was talking along in her most friendly voice, Helga stood up and simply walked off. Step-roll, step-roll, step-roll down the path toward the sidewalk.

  Mandy stared after her. Such rudeness! Here she was trying her best to be nice, and the girl just walked away. Well, Helga Gottman could just go on being lonely for all she cared. Mandy asked an elderly man sitting on a park bench what time it was and found out it was time to go home anyway.

  Mandy had been in a spelling bee in third grade, so she knew a little bit about being asked questions in front of others. But the morning of the quiz contest, her stomach churned so she could hardly bear to watch John eating his Wheaties. She didn’t even care that he got the brand-new Jack Armstrong decoder badge out of the box.

  Throughout the day, the tension grew until she felt she might burst wide open. She kept taking deep breaths, but that didn’t help. Would she freeze when she stepped up on the stage? Would her brain short-circuit because she was so tense? Answering Caroline’s questions in the bedroom was much different than being on a stage with the whole school watching. Whatever possessed her to think she could do this? Only a few fourth-graders even signed up. Most of the entrants were fifth- and sixth-graders. What chance did she have?

  The twins were oblivious as they walked home for lunch, running along and laughing and acting silly. At the house, Mandy told her mother she couldn’t eat a bite, but Mama insisted she at least eat an apple. “It’s light,” she said. “And you need something in your stomach.”

  Mandy forced down the apple, reading a history book as she ate, then hurried back to school. The contest was to begin at two o’clock. The hands on the classroom pendulum clock barely moved for an entire hour.

  When Mrs. Crowley said it was time for those who had entered the contest to be dismissed to go to the auditorium, Mandy wasn’t sure her legs would carry her. She felt weak all over. Perhaps she would faint dead away, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the contest at all.

  Four long rows of chairs were arranged on the stage for the participants. Mandy glanced around at the others, but no one appeared to be as nervous as she was. She sat down and folded her damp, clammy hands in her lap. Then, reaching in her pocket, she pulled out her flowered handkerchief and began to twist the corner of it. That gave her hands something to do.

  Mama and the twins slipped in the rear door and took seats near the back of the room. Susan gave a shy little wave. Students began filing in, and Mandy saw John come in and take his seat. She knew he was rooting for her.

  Within a few minutes, the entire auditorium was packed, and the principal stepped to the lectern to give the welcome address. He explained the rules, saying that each student, when asked a question, must stand to answer. If he or she failed to answer correctly in the designated time, that person must leave the stage and take a seat down front.

  “The teacher asking the questions will indicate the category,” he continued, “whether arithmetic, science, history, or language. We’ve attempted to include an equal mix. This contest is for the versatile student. The well-read student.”

  As he said that, Mandy happened to catch Miss LaFayette’s eye. The librarian smiled at her. That smile bolstered Mandy’s courage.

  Then the questions began. Mr. Cutts, the sixth-grade teacher, called out, “Mandy McMichael.” She jumped to her feet. Her chair scooted and made a clattering noise on the floor. There were a few snickers. She felt her face flush.

  “The category is language,” he said, paying no attention to her clumsiness. “In this sentence, ‘Johnny climbed up the hill,’ what part of speech is the word climbed?”

  Mandy swallowed hard. How she wished she could have a glass of water. “The word climbed is a verb.”

  “Correct,” said Mr. Cutts. “You may be seated.”

  As she sat down, she released a deep sigh. She’d done it. She’d actually answered the first question, and she was still in.

  Three of the students were out on the very first round.

  On the second round, her question was history. Mr. Cutts cleared his throat. “Give the date when Fort Sumter fell into Confederate hands,” he said. Then he added, “Give the day, month, and year.”

  Mandy closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe deeply. “April,” she said. “April 12, 1861.”

  “Correct,” Mr. Cutts said, smiling, and Mandy sat back down.

  Her biggest fear was a word problem in math. For some reason, figures didn’t compute as quickly in her head as facts.

  A sixth-grade boy named Dennis Lynch, who, according to John, was one of the smartest boys in his class, moved over beside her as empty chairs were taken from the stage. As he did, he looked over at her and smiled. He didn’t seem a bit nervous. They were competing against one another, yet he smiled at her. His smile seemed to say, “Enjoy yourself. This is fun.”

  She smiled back at him. As she did, strangely enough, the agonizing tightness in her chest eased up. Between questions, she’d been staring hard at the floor in front of her feet. Now she allowed herself to look out over the crowd. Suddenly, it occurred to her that there was nothing to be nervous about. Or to be afraid of. So what if she got a word problem and it was hard? So what if she missed it? She’d come this far, and there would always be next year. She was up there doing her very best, and that was all that mattered.

  There were seven students left on the stage when she received her first word problem. “If three girls each had a basket containing a dozen oranges, and they wanted to give nine friends an equal number of oranges, how many oranges would each friend receive?”

  Mandy began to figure in her head. She had only a few minutes. Three dozen oranges would be thirty-six, divided by nine. “Each friend would receive four oranges,” she said.

  “Correct,” said Mr. Cutts.

  When she sat down, she heard Dennis whisper, “Good job, fourth-grader.”

  By now her nervousness had transformed into exhilaration. She truly was having fun! So when she and Dennis were the only students left on the stage, she felt as though the two of them shared a private joke.

  “Dennis Lynch.”

  Dennis stood to his feet.

  “The category is history. Give the date when King John sealed the Magna Carta at Runnymede.”

  “King John sealed the Magna Carta on June 15, 1225.”

  “That is not correct,” Mr. Cutts said.

  Dennis sat down. And he was still smiling. Mandy wondered if maybe he already had a set of encyclopedias at his house. According to the rules, if she missed the question as w
ell, he would be given yet another question, and the contest would continue.

  As her name was called, she stood. The question was repeated. But she knew. The year wasn’t 1225. It was 1215.

  As soon as she gave the correct answer and Mr. Cutts said, “Correct,” the entire auditorium burst into loud applause. Dennis shook her hand and congratulated her, telling her what a good job she’d done. Mr. Cutts patted her back. Miss LaFayette hugged her. John came up on stage to tell her how proud he was of her. Mother was there, and the twins were bouncing around her like two little jack-in-the-boxes.

  “Mandy won! Mandy won!” they chanted. And Mama didn’t tell them to hush.

  Even old Mrs. Crowley was on the stage fussing over her.

  When everything had calmed down, Mr. Cutts announced that the set of encyclopedias would be delivered to the McMichael home the following week. Then he said, “This is the first time in the history of the quiz contest that a fourth-grader has won.”

  Applause echoed through the auditorium. Mandy couldn’t remember ever being so happy.

  Since it was time for school to be dismissed, the building emptied quickly. Mama and the twins waited in the front hall while Mandy went to her classroom to get her books and jacket. When she came out of the room, Jane Stevens was standing in the hall almost as though she were waiting for Mandy.

  Mandy started to walk right past her. After all, no one in the Golden Ring had ever spoken to her except to torment her.

  But Jane said, “Mandy?”

  Mandy stopped and looked at her.

  “I just wanted to tell you I think you did a swell job. I would have been scared spitless up there.” The girl gave a weak smile.

  “Thank you, Jane. It’s nice of you to say so. I was pretty scared at first.”

  “I just wanted you to know….” She stopped a minute. “I’m glad you didn’t let what the girls …” Catching herself, she began again. “I’m glad you didn’t let what we said stop you.”

  She left without another word.