Violet looked up from her arithmetic homework. She glanced over her shoulder into the parlor. “Don’t let Ma hear you,” she warned in a whisper. “You know what she said about you dressing like a witch.”
Esther sighed. Ma had been furious that Esther would even suggest such a thing. “You make fun of things you do not understand,” she had scolded. “That can be dangerous.”
There was that word again. Dangerous. First Bethany and now witch costumes were dangerous. But Esther had seen lots of children dress as witches in Chicago. Nothing bad had happened to them.
“Look at this shirt,” she grumbled. “It’s got about a hundred holes in it! And the overalls are way too big. But I can’t cut them ’cause Pa needs them back.”
“Scarecrows are supposed to be goofy looking,” Violet tried to comfort her.
But Esther only got more upset. “I don’t want to look goofy. I want to look scary!” She jumped to her feet, bared her teeth, and waved claw-like hands in the air.
“R-r-r-r-r!”
On the porch, Mickey was startled into barking. Even Esther had to let go of her bad temper to laugh. She had frightened Mickey even without a costume. She supposed she really was making too much of things.
She probably didn’t have a chance of winning the silver-dollar prize no matter what. Sarah Sanderson’s mother was making her a princess costume with real sequins on the sleeves. Nothing would beat that. Still, it would have been nice to hand that silver dollar to Ma after the party. “More money toward the mortgage,” she would say. And wouldn’t Ma be proud of her then!
Oh well, Esther thought. Maybe next year. She was going to the church Halloween party. That was the important thing. The party was less than a week away, so there was no time to waste.
If only Julia were there. Julia was a real seamstress, like Ma. She could do anything with a needle and thread. She would turn the pile of old clothes into a splendid costume, easy as pie. Even Violet might have been a help. But she was too busy with homework and her own costume.
So Esther was on her own, and she was all thumbs with a needle. She had to start somewhere, though. She frowned and set the gloves aside. They could be worn as they were. And, awful as the hat was, it, too, would do. After all, as Violet had pointed out, scarecrows weren’t supposed to be stylish. That left her with the shirt and overalls. She looked from one to the other. Well, at least she knew what she had to do with the shirt. She set her jaw, laid the pants aside, and started stitching torn seams.
• • •
At school, everyone was talking about the coming party.
“They served ice cream last year,” Thomas reminded everyone daily.
“And caramel apples,” someone else would add.
“And popcorn balls,” another voice would chime in.
Esther’s mouth watered just thinking about such treats.
“This week is going by so slow!” Bethany complained on Wednesday. “I feel like Friday’s never going to come.”
“I just hope I can finish my costume in time,” Esther said. “The shirt’s finally done, but I still don’t know what to do about the overalls. Even with the legs rolled up and the straps as high as they’ll go, they’re way too long.”
“Why don’t you ask your mother for help? Likely she’ll have an idea,” Bethany suggested.
Esther didn’t want to admit she was still sulking because Ma wouldn’t let her be a witch. She just said, “We’ll see.”
The next day, after school, she found a fat letter from Julia in the mailbox. Quickly Esther ripped open the envelope as Walter raced ahead to the house. Then, walking slowly, she read the letter aloud to Violet.
October 20, 1930
Dear Esther,
I loved your story about how the farmers saved your neighbors’ land. I wish people in the city cared as much about one another. More and more families are being evicted from their homes because they’ve lost their jobs and can’t pay the rent. Now that Howard’s workdays have been cut, he and Kate are gladder than ever that I’m with them. The money I give them toward the rent and food is a real help.
Little Henry is thriving. Yes, he smiles quite a lot. He’s a good baby and Kate is a wonderful mother. She can’t wait to show him off when we visit you at Thanksgiving.
Good news! David found a job at last. It’s hard work. He unloads trucks all day. But he’s so glad to be earning money again, he doesn’t mind his sore muscles.
Now for the real reason for this letter. I haven’t forgotten that you asked for my advice about Bethany and Ma. I just wanted to understand some things better before I tried to explain them to you. So last week I visited Aunt Olga. She told me more about Ma’s life in Russia.
You know that when Ma was eleven, her mother died. Because she was the oldest girl, Ma had to cook and clean while her father and older brother worked in the fields. And she had to take care of her little brothers and sisters. One of them was a little sister named Tatiana.
“Tatiana!” Violet exclaimed. “Isn’t she the sister Aunt Olga said looked so much like you?”
Esther nodded impatiently. “Yes. But hush while I finish the letter.”
Ma loved all her brothers and sisters, but Tatiana was especially dear to her. Ma couldn’t resist her smiles and playfulness. Instead of insisting that Tatiana obey, Ma often gave in to her, and she gave her lots of attention. One day—although she’d been told many times to stay away from it—Tatiana went wading in their stream, and she drowned. Ma was brokenhearted. She said she had angered the fairies by ignoring them and spoiling Tatiana. She insisted that what happened to Tatiana was her fault, her punishment. Aunt Olga says Ma was never the same after that. To protect the other children, she became more and more superstitious.
Esther had to stop reading. Her eyes were filled with tears. “Poor Ma,” she gulped. “She told me about Tatiana’s accident, but she didn’t tell me that she blamed herself for it.”
Violet sniffled. “And Ma was so young.”
Esther wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and lifted the letter again.
I’m sorry, Esther. I know none of this tells you how to change what Ma believes about Bethany. I don’t know if there is a way to do that. But I’m hoping this story will help you to understand why superstitions have such a hold on Ma.
My goodness, this letter has gotten long! I have to stop or I’ll be late for work.
Be sure to write and tell me all about the party.
Happy Halloween!
Heaps of Love,
Julia
Esther folded the letter carefully. Automatically she put it back in its envelope and tucked it into her reader. She was deep in thought. No wonder Ma believed in superstitions and signs. She had seen them come horribly true. Maybe all the wishing in the world could not change her.
That night, Esther swallowed her pride and asked Ma for help with her costume. Ma took one look at Esther in Pa’s overalls and shook with laughter. But a moment later she darted out of the room. When she came back, she had Pa’s belt in her hand. “Pull the pants up at your waist,” she instructed.
Esther pulled them up. Ma put the belt around Esther’s middle and buckled it snugly. Next, she rolled up the bottoms of the long legs. Finally, she crisscrossed the straps three times in the back before pulling them over Esther’s shoulders to fasten. “There,” she said. “Now put on the shirt and the hat and gloves. Let me see what kind of scarecrow you will make.”
Esther hurried into the pantry and pulled her dress over her head. Then she slipped her arms into the long sleeves of Pa’s old, mended shirt. She was eager to show Ma what she looked like before Ma got involved with something else and forgot her interest in Esther and her costume.
Quickly, Esther buttoned the shirt and slapped the hat onto her head. She was stuffing the shirt into the overalls when she realized the shirt was buttoned
crooked. Darn! Ma would notice that for sure and she would scold. Uneven buttoning was bad luck and the only thing to do about it was to unbutton the shirt, take it off, and shake all the bad luck out of it. Then and only then was it safe to put it on again and button it properly.
But Esther was in a hurry. With fumbling fingers she quickly unbuttoned the shirt, gave it a couple of flaps with her arms still in the sleeves—surely that was good enough—and speedily redid the buttons. A minute later she burst out of the pantry and ran to find Ma and Pa in the parlor.
“Ach!” Pa cried. “A scarecrow in the house. What will happen next!” But he was laughing.
Ma smiled and nodded. “You look good,” she told Esther.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Esther said. “Thank you, Ma!” Impulsively, she threw her arms around Ma’s neck. At once she felt Ma stiffen and pull back. Esther dropped her arms as if she’d been stung. She turned away so Ma wouldn’t see the tears flooding her eyes.
“It is time for bed,” Ma said quickly, blowing out the flame in the parlor lamp. “Do not forget to leave your door open,” she added gently. “It gets cold these nights.”
Was Ma sorry that she had pulled away from Esther? Was that why her voice was so soft? Had Esther’s hug just startled her? And if Esther had taken the shirt off and shaken out the bad luck before she buttoned it back up, would Ma have hugged her back? Now she would never know.
Violet was in their bedroom brushing her hair in front of the mirror. When she saw Esther, she exclaimed, “The overalls fit! How did you manage it?”
“Ma helped me,” Esther said. “Look.” She tugged up on the top part of the overalls to reveal the belt. “And . . .” She twisted around to show Violet her back. “The crisscrossing shortens the straps a lot.” Esther’s excitement about the costume contest was quickly returning. Maybe she had a chance at the silver-dollar prize after all.
“Tomorrow night I’ll put flour on my face. I’ll have straw sticking out of my shirt and gloves and hat. I’ll look just like a real scarecrow.” She glanced at Violet’s colorful costume hanging on the back of the door. “You’ll make a pretty gypsy,” she said. “But wouldn’t you rather be scary?”
Violet shook her head. “Nope. I’d rather be beautiful and mysterious.” She fluttered her eyelashes. They had finally grown back. Violet was convinced they were longer and thicker than before. Esther was just as sure they were not, but she knew better than to say so. She twirled around happily.
“I can’t wait ’til tomorrow!” she sang.
• • •
The next day at school seemed to last forever. Even recess was too long. But finally Mrs. Davies rang the bell. School was dismissed.
“Be sure to come early,” Bethany reminded Esther as they bounded down the school steps. “We don’t want to miss any of the fun.”
“I’ll be there as early as I can,” Esther promised. Walter was tossing his cap in the air. “Walter, put your hat on your head before it lands in a mud puddle,” she scolded. Then she waved one last time to her friend. “Bye, Bethany. See you at the party!”
Violet joined Esther and Walter and they started for home. Their steps were lighter and faster than usual. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the old farmhouse. Ma had just finished making Walter’s pirate costume. He was so excited, he had to try on the black vest and eye patch at once.
“You’re perfect!” Esther said when he strutted around the kitchen, waving his cardboard sword.
“Can we go to the party now?” Walter asked Ma.
“No, not now. The party is not until after supper,” she explained.
“But can we go early?” Walter persisted. “Bethany told Esther to be sure an’ go early so we don’t miss any of the fun.”
Esther’s heart stopped.
Ma stiffened. Then, slowly, slowly she turned to level a piercing look at Esther. “Bethany?” Ma repeated. “Why would Bethany say this to you when you are not friends with her anymore?”
Esther’s heart exploded into a wild pounding. Her face was on fire. Her mouth was suddenly so dry, her tongue seemed stuck. How could she explain? Ma would never understand. Never! Esther could barely meet Ma’s stern gaze. Her knees began to shake. “I-I—” she tried to speak.
But Walter was faster. “Esther and Bethany are so friends,” he told Ma. “Best friends, like me an’ Lars. Right, Esther?” He turned to grin at her, but seeing Esther’s face, his grin wobbled uncertainly.
“Walter, go to your room,” Ma said quietly. He fled. “Violet, go peel potatoes for supper.” Violet threw Esther a look of sympathy and vanished into the kitchen. For a long moment Ma just looked at Esther. She was angry. But there was something in her face besides anger. Something Esther had never seen there before. Disappointment, yes. But also pain. Esther had hurt Ma. Esther bit her lip, trying not to cry. Ma hated tears.
At last, when Esther could not bear the quiet another second, Ma spoke. “You have disobeyed me,” she said. She said it so sadly that Esther couldn’t help it. She did cry then.
“I’m sorry, Ma,” she sobbed. “I didn’t want to. I just couldn’t do what you wanted. I tried, but I couldn’t. She’s my friend. She’s been my friend for all these months and nothing bad has happened. Don’t you think you could be wrong just this once?” Esther pleaded.
“Nu!” Ma exclaimed. “How can you say nothing bad has happened? You disobey me. You become a sneaky child I cannot trust. Are these not bad things?” Ma shook her head as if it were suddenly too heavy for her shoulders. “When I tell you something, it is for your own good. You are not to question.”
Esther hung her head, too miserable to speak.
Ma sighed. “You must be punished,” she said more quietly. “So you will remember to obey the next time. Look at me.”
Esther looked at Ma. She saw disappointment and sadness on Ma’s face that she hoped never to see there again. “You will not go to the party tonight,” Ma said. Esther heard a gasp from the kitchen. “And from now on, you will stay away from Bethany. Do you understand?”
Esther nodded blindly. Tears spilled down her cheeks and splashed onto her dress.
That night, the family drove off to the party without her. Esther ran to her room, clutched Margaret to her heart, and threw herself onto her bed. She cried so hard that Mickey howled in distress on the porch. She cried because she was missing the party. She cried because she could never be friends with Bethany again. But most of all, she cried because she had disappointed Ma so terribly. Maybe she would never love Esther now.
11 Thanksgiving
November 8, 1930
Dear Julia,
I did it. I told Bethany we cannot be friends anymore. I did not tell her why. I could not tell her Ma says she is marked and dangerous! I just said that Ma had forbidden it. Bethany looked so sad. She ran into the outhouse. And when she came out, her eyes were all red. I felt awful. I still do. Now I spend recess reading at my desk while Bethany and the other girls play outside. It is very lonely. The only thing that cheers me up is thinking about you and Kate and Howard and little Henry coming for Thanksgiving. Mickey and I will show you all around the farm. I just hope it is nicer weather than it is today.
Esther raised her head and watched raindrops dribble down the kitchen window. She’d planned to ride Bruno around the pasture today. She was going to pretend they were leading a circus parade. Then the rain had come.
Even Esther’s walk to the mailbox had ended badly, since she’d been so excited to find a letter from Julia that she ran into the kitchen without wiping her feet. Ma, who had just finished mopping the floor, started to scold about muddy footprints. Then she spotted the open umbrella Esther still held in her hand.
“Nu!” She shook her finger at Esther. “Close that umbrella right now! You know you call bad luck into our house when you bring an open umbrella inside.”
“I’m sorry, Ma!” Esther cried, dropping the letter on the table and struggling to snap the umbrella shut. Ma took it from Esther and marched over to the door. She put the umbrella on the back porch and then, for the second time that morning, scrubbed furiously at the patch of floor in front of it.
Esther slunk away to her bedroom to read Julia’s letter about baby Henry, her job at the telephone company, and how they were all counting the days until Thanksgiving. But it was too chilly to stay up in her room for long, so now Esther was downstairs again, hoping against hope that the rain would stop before the entire day was wasted.
She watched Walter shoot a marble across the parlor floor, trying to get it inside a circle of string. She looked across the table at Violet sketching dresses on the backs of old envelopes. Everyone had something fun to do but her. If only there were a library in town. In Chicago, Esther always had books to read. A rainy day like this one was perfect for reading. Esther sighed. A moment later, her stomach rumbled.
“Can I have a slice of bread, Ma?” she asked. “I’m hungry.”
Ma was cutting off the tops of green peppers at the sink. She looked at Esther. “It will not be long until supper. Try to wait.”
Esther sighed again. Then she asked hopefully, “Are you making porcupines?”
“Almost porcupines,” Ma replied, lining the peppers upright in a pan.
“Almost?” Esther repeated. “How can they be ‘almost porcupines’?”
“They will have no meat inside, just rice and tomato,” Ma explained.
“Oh.” Esther didn’t have to ask why. She already knew the answer. Money. The corn had indeed grown well, but prices had been low. The potatoes had done well, too, but some had to be kept for the family. And some were special seed potatoes to be planted in the spring. There were not as many potatoes left to sell as Pa would have liked.
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