Mandy shook her head. “Only Peter has his own. His room is down at the end. Sometimes if there’s something real special on, I can ask permission to take the one from the kitchen and bring it up here.”
Helga nodded but said nothing. She walked over to the dressing table and sat down, looking at the items there. She picked up a couple bobby pins out of the plastic dish where Mandy kept them.
Glancing at Helga’s hair, which was never fixed properly, Mandy said, “Want me to show you how to put your hair up in pin curls?”
Helga jumped up from the tufted stool and walked to the door. “You want to make me different?” she said. She strode out into the hallway, and Mandy hurried after her, bewildered. “That’s what Elizabeth Barrington would do. Change me. Make me different.”
As Mandy followed her down the stairs, she realized she had a lot to learn about Helga Gottman. And it was going to take a lot of time.
At the bottom of the stairs, Helga suddenly stopped. “Where are the encyclopedias?”
Forgetting that Peter was resting, Mandy pointed to the living room. “In there.”
Without asking, Helga walked in the room and looked at the books sitting on the shelf. Peter opened one eye to see what the disturbance was, readjusted the ice pack on his face, and said nothing.
Mandy stepped up beside Helga. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would never have won these.”
“I know,” the girl replied.
“Thank you for saying what you did that day in the library.”
“It was the truth.” Helga turned back to the hallway and headed in her roll-step gait to the front door.
Not waiting for Mandy to open the door, she let herself out. Going down the sidewalk, Helga called, “I’ll come back again.”
That evening at supper, Mama told the story about Helga coming to visit, unannounced. Mandy could tell by Mama’s tone that she hadn’t minded one bit. “That girl may be a little slow in speech and in her ways,” Mama said, “but she’s certainly not dumb.”
Mandy thought that was a good description. “God loves her just like King David loved Mephibosheth.”
“Who?” John asked, laying down the pork chop he’d been devouring. “Who in the world is Mephibo … Whatever you said.”
“If you’d listen in church, you’d know.” She explained about Mephibosheth and how King David hunted for him throughout the land and then gave him a place at the king’s table.
Peter, who was eating a clear soup instead of pork chops, said, “Hey, little sis. I’m proud of you.” Putting down his spoon, he got up from his place to come over and give her a hug.
“But I didn’t do anything,” she said.
“I saw you with Helga,” he said. “How kind you were with her. So in a way you’re right—it really isn’t what you do; it’s who you are. And you are one sweet girl.” Before sitting back down, he gave her another hug.
Mandy basked in his praise. It made her feel all grown up. She’d gained something that was far better than a piggyback ride—she’d gained her older brother’s respect.
Each evening out on the porch swing, Mandy read to Susan from The Bobbsey Twins in the Country. Susan especially liked the book because there were two sets of twins in the family. Freddie and Flossie were the two younger ones, and Nan and Bert were the two older ones.
Mandy read slowly and pointed out words and named letters. By the time they were finished with the book, Susan was saying, “T-w-i-n-s. That spells twins. I can read and spell both.” Of course, she couldn’t really read. Not yet anyway. But that wasn’t important. What mattered was that the nightmares had ceased. Mandy never realized before how little it took to make her sister happy.
Money wasn’t as tight as it had been the previous school year, so Mandy had three new dresses with which to begin school. And a few new skirts and blouses as well. And, of course, her dungarees.
John would be going to junior high and would no longer be walking to school with her each day. She’d miss that. But she knew she’d be all right this year.
Before the first day, she told Mama she’d need lunch money.
Mama’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, really? You’re not coming home for lunch this year?”
Mandy shook her head. “The twins will be at school all day, so there’s no need for me to walk home. I may just as well stay there, too.”
Mama nodded. “My goodness. All of my children in school all day. I won’t know what to do with myself.”
Mandy didn’t believe that for a minute.
When Mandy walked into the fifth-grade classroom, she looked around at the familiar faces and felt right at home. Mrs. Patterson, their teacher, was a bright-eyed lady whom Mandy knew would be much more on top of things than Mrs. Crowley ever was. Mrs. Crowley, she soon learned, had retired and would not be back. That was good news for this year’s fourth-graders.
Elizabeth Barrington was in the center of her friends, the same as always. She was bronzed with a summer tan, and her honey hair was more golden than ever. Someone said she’d spent the summer traveling with her parents.
And, of course, Helga appeared wearing her frayed red cardigan. She actually smiled at Mandy when she walked in the door. Amazing.
When the day got underway, Mrs. Patterson made various announcements. One important announcement was that Miss Bowen had joined the Red Cross. “So,” Mrs. Patterson added, “since the school has been unable to hire a new physical education instructor, we’ll have regular recess this year.”
The class broke into a spontaneous cheer.
Mrs. Patterson put her finger over her mouth. “Shh. No talking aloud without raising our hands first.”
It was going to be a very good year.
As soon as Mandy could do so, she hurried to the library to see Miss LaFayette. She had some unfinished business about a lie she had told. Now she could tell the truth about the torn book, and it would no longer be like tattling. Miss LaFayette gave her a hug and said she forgave her for the lie, and Mandy felt a load go off her shoulders. She’d carried that weight around for much too long.
School had been in session only a few days when the terrible news broke of Germany bombing London. Nearly a thousand bombers struck at the heart of the great city. No one could believe it. Killing innocent civilians on purpose—that was unheard of.
“This, if anything,” Mandy’s father said, “will raise the sympathies of the people of the United States for the Brits.”
On the newsreels, Mandy saw young schoolchildren hiding in trenches while the battle raged overhead. She saw the British loading their children onto trains to send them into the countryside to live with other families until the Blitz, as the bombing was called, was over.
The terrifying Battle of Britain dragged on through the autumn. Many people, including her teacher, Mrs. Patterson, said they didn’t see how Britain could hold on much longer. But the Brits did hold on. And their prime minister, Winston Churchill, said it was England’s “finest hour.”
“It’s the Royal Air Force,” Dad kept saying with a distinct note of pride in his voice. “I’ve always said it’s the airplanes that will win this war. We need to be making more of them.”
Mandy wasn’t exactly sure what Dad did every day, working long hours at the Boeing plant, but she was confident he had a part in helping Britain shoot down the German planes and protect and defend their homeland. And she was immensely proud of him.
Some days Helga sat with her during lunch. Some days she didn’t. That’s the way Helga was. Mandy was trying to learn to appreciate her new friend’s ups and downs—and not try to change her. Though Mandy was nothing like King David, she still felt as though she were allowing Mephibosheth the privilege of sitting at the table. Perhaps someday she’d be able to tell Helga about how much Jesus, the real King, loved her.
Two girls in fifth grade came over to Mandy’s table one day at lunch and asked if they could sit with her. “Sure,” she answered and scooted over to make room.
&
nbsp; One of the two girls, Meredith, was new. Her father had moved to Seattle to work at Boeing, so they had something in common. The other girl, Sandy, had been there last year.
As they sat down, Sandy began to tell Meredith all about the quiz contest and how Mandy had won first place, just as though it had happened the day before. Mandy blushed, but it made her feel good that Sandy seemed to enjoy talking about it. She sounded as though she were proud to know Mandy.
From then on, the three spent time together at recess and during the lunch hour. And neither Meredith nor Sandy seemed to mind at all when Helga sat with them at lunch.
One day as they were eating together and joking about the lukewarm spaghetti, Mandy looked up to see Jane Stevens standing by the table. Jane looked as though she wanted to say something. Helga was sitting by Mandy’s side, with Meredith and Sandy opposite them.
“Hello, Jane,” Mandy said. “Want to sit down? There’s room.”
“Thanks, but I can’t.” She nodded toward the Golden Ring, sitting in another part of the cafeteria. “The others are expecting me to sit with them.”
Mandy looked at her and waited a minute. “Did you need something?” she asked.
“I wanted to ask you a favor.” Her voice was soft, as though she didn’t want anyone to hear. “Mandy, do you think you could help me with my long division? I’m having a terrible time understanding it.”
Before Mandy could answer, Helga spoke up. “Well, naturally she can help. Don’t you remember who won the encyclopedia set last spring?”
To Mandy’s surprise, Jane smiled. “I know she can, Helga. I’m asking if she will.”
Helga chuckled. “She’ll do that, too!”
Mandy nodded. “Helga’s right. How about if we work on it tomorrow during library hour?”
“Swell. Thanks. See you then.”
As Jane walked away, Mandy wondered if that was the first time Jane had ever talked to Helga in a civil tone.
Helga leaned over and said, “Don’t look now, but the Golden Ring is getting a little tarnished.”
The four girls burst into laughter.
CHAPTER 18
A Leader for the Future
The Mikimotos’ small living room was jam-packed with McMichaels, crowded around the radio with their hosts to listen to the election returns.
Dad had been let off work early so he could vote. When he’d gotten home, he’d told Mama, “Call the Mikimotos. See if they want company this evening. We’ll all listen to the returns together.”
The Mikimotos were happy for their friends to drop by. Now they sat around eating, talking, and waiting for the news.
Just a week before the election, President Roosevelt had ordered the first peacetime military draft in the history of the United States. All eligible young men had signed up and been assigned numbers from 1 to 7,836. On the newsreel at the movies, Mandy saw Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson draw a number from the goldfish bowl that had been used during the Great War. He handed the number to President Roosevelt, and the president read out, “One hundred fifty-eight.” All young men who had been assigned that number were now destined for boot camp.
Mandy looked over at Peter’s young, handsome face smiling at some joke that Mr. Mikimoto had made, and she wondered if he would be marching off to war one day. She looked over at Lora, who seemed to have turned from a girl to a grown-up woman overnight as she worried about Mark’s safety in the Philippines.
It was nearly midnight, and the twins were asleep—Susan on Dad’s lap and Ben in a corner on the floor. Hideko and Caroline were in Hideko’s bedroom listening to phonograph records.
Suddenly the news broke. Republican nominee Wendell Wilkie had conceded defeat. The entire room broke into a rousing cheer. Even quiet, demure Mrs. Mikimoto was cheering. They were waving their cups of tea and bottles of Coca-Cola in a rousing salute.
“Wait a minute,” Peter said, waving his hand. “Wilkie’s about to speak.”
They instantly became quiet so they could listen to Mr. Wilkie’s words.
“No matter which side you were on,” came the defeated candidate’s voice over the airwaves, “this great expression of faith in the free system of government must have given hope wherever man hopes to be free.”
Then, referring to Mr. Roosevelt, Mr. Wilkie said, “He is your president. He is my president. And we will pray God may guide his hand during the next four years.”
Mr. Mikimoto reached over and turned down the volume. “He is right. We must pray.”
He bowed his head, and the others did the same. As Mandy listened to the prayer of this gentle, kind Japanese-American man, she, too, prayed for their president. And she prayed that God would equip him with the wisdom to guide their country through these perilous times.
Jennie’s War
Bonnie Hinman
A NOTE TO READERS
Although the Flemings and their friends are fictional, the situations they find themselves in are real. The crash at the beginning of the story actually happened. A prototype of the B-29 crashed during a test flight, causing power outages in south Seattle and killing nineteen workers in a meatpacking plant. Because the B-29 was still top secret, the newspapers did not report the full story at the time.
Collecting paper, metal, and fat was an ongoing part of the war effort. Learning to live without as many sweets was also. After two years of war, families were becoming used to the shortages and found other ways to celebrate special events.
Some people in the United States were arrested for spying during the war, and schoolchildren were encouraged to be careful about what they said to others. “Loose lips sink ships” was one of the most famous mottoes of the war. While they weren’t actually on the front lines, American citizens felt very much a part of the effort to win World War II.
For my dad, Floyd Wirts, a World War II veteran,
and for my uncles, Hank, Bob, Joe, Ray, Calvin, Wendell, Ole, and Bill,
who all served with distinction at home or abroad during the war.
CONTENTS
1. The Mysterious Fire
2. Mr. Romano’s Cousin
3. Sliding into Trouble
4. The Secret Weapon
5. Manure Tea
6. The Victory Garden Contest
7. Goats and Floats
8. Birthday Surprises
9. The Junk Car
10. More Clues
11. The Spy’s Lair
12. Time Runs Out
13. Winners
CHAPTER 1
The Mysterious Fire
Jennie Fleming struggled with an old tire that was almost as big as she was.
“You can’t take that on the bus,” Tommy said to his older sister.
“Oh yes I can,” Jennie said, puffing from the hard work. “This tire is going in my pile of scrap. I found it behind that building, and it’s mine.” She stopped and pulled her woolen cap down farther over her curly, dark hair.
Tommy shrugged and adjusted the basket he carried. It was full of old bicycle tubes and tires and a couple of worn-out rubber boots. They each had a pile of scrap rubber in the alley behind the hotel where they lived. They would divide this basketful between the piles, but they couldn’t divide the big tire. It was only a few days before the end of the scrap rubber drive, and each wanted to have the most rubber to turn in at the collection center.
“At least hurry up,” Tommy said. “Art and Jasper will be waiting for us.”
Arthur—better known as Art—was their older brother. He and his friend Jasper had let Jennie and Tommy tag along for once. It was a school holiday, but the older boys were working on a school project. Nine-year-old Jennie and eight-year-old Tommy had begged to be included until Arthur gave in and said they could come along to look for scrap in a new neighborhood.
“Tommy, don’t boss me. Remember, I’m older than you,” Jennie said.
“Only by a year,” Tommy said.
“I’m still older, and that makes you the baby of the f
amily. Anyway, Art and Jasper won’t be back at the bus stop yet,” Jennie said. “They said to be back in an hour, and it hasn’t been that long yet because I heard a noon whistle from one of the factories farther south not fifteen minutes ago.”
Tommy switched the basket to his other hand. “I think all the rubber we have at home is enough to make an airplane tire.”
“No, airplane tires are a lot bigger.” Jennie tugged the tire over a curb.
“Not all of them,” Tommy said. “There are little ones, too.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been close to an airplane.”
“Have so!” Tommy hollered over his shoulder.
“Have not!”
At first Jennie didn’t pay any attention to the roar that grew steadily louder, but in seconds the air vibrated with sound. She only had time to look at Tommy and see a puzzled look on his face before a huge explosion knocked them off their feet. Their rubber scattered into the street.
Jennie lay on the sidewalk for a second or two, waiting and listening, but nothing else happened. She sat up and looked around, still clutching the big tire. “Tommy, are you all right?” Her brother sat nearby.
“I’m fine. What on earth was that?”
“I don’t know. Some kind of explosion.” Jennie jumped to her feet. People poured out onto the sidewalks and street. Everyone looked around and talked excitedly to each other.
“Look,” Jennie said, “over there.” She pointed south at a billow of smoke drifting above the rooftops of Seattle. Something was on fire, and by the looks of the smoke, it was something big. The wail of sirens in the distance soon cut through the babble of talk around the two.
“It was a plane! I saw it!” a woman yelled as she ran past them toward the smoke.
Jennie and Tommy looked at each other. Without a word, Jennie knew what her brother was thinking. Together they shoved Jennie’s tire and the basket under a bush at the edge of the street and ran with everyone else toward the smoke. The need to meet Art and Jasper had vanished from their minds.
American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1 Page 22
