Cinderella's Dress

by Shonna Slayton

  “Everyone remembers job of knight.” Elsie flashed her thin arm like she was fighting with a sword. “Few remember Keeper of the Wardrobe. Most important job.” She stuck her head out into the living room. Apparently satisfied, she closed the bedroom door before rejoining Kate on the bed.

  “For generations, our family served Kolodenkos. Is our legacy to protect Queen Kopciuszek’s wardrobe. I am Keeper. But I am old woman, and war showed me my plans are like morning mist.” She wiggled her fingers up into the air. “They change. Go away.” She averted her gaze for a moment, rubbing her neck as if deep in thought. She cleared her throat and continued. “Is time to find new Keeper. I want you to be next. I think Katja want you next.”

  Elsie finished her proclamation and waited.

  Kate shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She had no idea what Elsie was talking about, although she could relate to having one’s plans changed. Nothing seemed to be going according to any plan since the war started. But Babcia had never spoken of this family legacy.

  Elsie pointed to Kate’s face. “I see in your eyes. No understanding.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Is for Queen Kopciuszek. You know old story?” Elsie pronounced it “kop-CHOO-sheck,” and she was insistent. Like she expected Kate to know what she was talking about.

  “Babcia never mentioned a Queen Kopciuszek,” Kate said slowly. Several queens had been in the news since the war had started. Queen Elizabeth in England, of course, with teen-age princesses Elizabeth and Margaret. Queen Wilhelmina who had escaped to England after the Netherlands was invaded. She had visited the United States a few years ago. And her daughter princess Juliana and her kids were staying in Canada. Surely there were a few other European countries with kings and queens but she didn’t think any of them had the Kolodenko name, not that she was an expert on European royalty.

  Elsie looked frustrated. She had sucked her lips into a tight line and was shaking her head. “I must learn English word for name Kopciuszek,” she said, pounding her slim fist on her leg. “If I know English name, you know queen. You understand.”

  “Does Poland even have a queen?”

  Elsie tapped her lip with her finger. “You are correct, there belongs no queen in Poland. Castles. Hundreds of castles and palaces, but is no queen. The land called Poland is not always called Poland. The Kolodenkos are royalty from another time, but we still serve them. Is matter of pride.”

  “Okay,” Kate offered slowly. “What is it you do for them, exactly?” And what does this have to do with my grandmother leaving Poland?

  “We protect their most precious possession. The Kopciuszek dress.” Elsie’s face lit up with pride and expectation. “And soon, you carry on family traditions.” She said it like she was passing on her own title of queen. “We keep dress safe, hidden. Protect from mold and moths. Make repairs. Dress needs…special care. We move it because of war. But when over, we bring it back.” She made a face like she was about to be sick. “Maybe you bring it back. That ship—what it did to my stomach! I not live through another trip. I need Keeper to return dress to continent.”

  Kate tried to keep her eyes wide to show she was interested in what Elsie was saying. But there didn’t seem to be anything noble about holding on to someone else’s clothes, no matter how fancy. And it was for this reason they had come to America to find her family? There had to be more to it. Kate pointed her thumb at the steamer trunk behind her. “Is that what you keep in there?”

  Elsie’s gaze didn’t move from Kate’s. “Job sounds simple, but there is important reason. And there is danger. Dress makes people behave in strange ways. Also, other people want dress, and we must not be tricked. There is much greed. We provide, how you say? A wall from this greed.”

  Elsie again reached for Kate’s hand. “Our families are bound together. The Kolodenkos need us as we need them. Is true we compelled to serve. Some in our family call it curse.” Her eyes flicked to the pisanki eggs and immediately back to hold Kate’s gaze. “But not meant to be. Is blessing. And without us, the dress disappears.” She squeezed Kate’s hand so tightly Kate’s fingers turned white. “Tell no person what we talk here. And please no tell Adalbert yet. Our secret.”

  This was too much information for Kate to process. She wished Babcia were here to translate for her and tell her if it was okay to do what Elsie was asking her to do. To her American ears, what she was asking made little sense.

  “What does my grandmother have to do with all of this?”

  Elsie flinched as if the question caused her pain. “No worry.” She waved a hand in front of Kate’s eyes. “You thinking all pieces of thoughts. I teach you what you need to know. I teach you Polish words, too. You be ready when is time for you to become Keeper.”

  Keeper of the Wardrobe. But this was 1944, not the Middle Ages. What if the royal family didn’t like how she “kept” the dresses? This whole conversation hadn’t gone like Kate expected it to. Elsie hadn’t explained one thing about Babcia.

  “My mother would be great for this job. She’s very fashionable, knows all sorts—”

  “Nie!” Elsie snapped. “Is you. You are young. But Katja gave you necklace. Not your mama.” Her face softened again.

  “This necklace?” She touched the chain at her neck.

  “Is symbol of Keeper. Was lost but now found. My hope returned. ”

  Kate looked around the room, anywhere but at Elsie. Her aunt was too intense. How could Kate agree to something she didn’t understand and couldn’t talk to anyone about?

  “If not you, we return to Poland and talk to my brother’s daughter.” Elsie frowned. “If she survives war. She is silly girl.”

  More family Kate didn’t know about. The royal crest on the steamer trunk was somehow brighter, more noticeable than when they had first brought it into the apartment. A royal family would have high expectations. That thought alone made her knees weaken.

  “You’ll tell me everything, even about my grandmother?”

  Elsie hesitated. “One day.” She patted Kate’s hand. “You want become Keeper?”

  Kate chewed her lip. It was all so sudden. And it felt…it felt momentous.

  “This is new,” Elsie said, her voice tired. “Adalbert warned me. Is time you need. Do you want I talk more?”

  “Tak?” answered Kate, relieved her great aunt would give her more time.

  Elsie smiled at Kate’s use of Polish. “You want to see in trunk?”

  Kate shrugged, like it didn’t matter. Elsie must have seen her try to open it. What she must think about my manners.

  Elsie withdrew a scrolled key from her pocket and turned it in the lock of the old trunk until it made a soft click. When she lifted the lid, the leather straps squeaked a warning, like the trunk was irritated it was being opened. She motioned for Kate to look. “Tell me what you see.”

  Kate leaned forward, eager for a look. She held her breath, wondering what the dress would look like.

  The trunk was empty.

  Well, aside from a book, a container of shoe polish, and some nondescript clothing folded to the side, Kate could see clear down to the cedar lining. No fancy anything that could belong to a royal family. Kate pointed out the simple items she saw. “Is that all you wanted to show me?” She had been hoping the dress would be in there. It wasn’t in any of her drawers. Maybe they hid it under the bed.

  Elsie’s mouth formed into an unreadable line as she locked the trunk. “One day, you see all.” She stood. “Dress, it has—how you say? Personality. When time is right, will make you choose.”

  Personality? Again, Kate wondered what the correct English word was. If only she could talk with Adalbert. His English was much better than Elsie’s. Maybe he could explain what it was Elsie meant. “And Adalbert knows all about this dress?”

  “Do not be worrying about my husband. Adalbert—”

  “Is home!” came a gruff voice from the doorway. Uncle Adalbert swept over to Elsie with one hand behind his back. He k
issed her on the cheek. “What you two talking about?”

  “Job worked well?” asked Aunt Elsie, looking flustered by his sudden arrival.

  “They say I do the good work. Boss is happy.”

  “Of course he is. No one can sew like you. Your hands are magic.” When Elsie reached for his hands, Adalbert pulled out a bouquet of red poppies and white carnations from behind his back and held them out to her. “Happy imieniny.”

  Aunt Elsie reached for the bouquet and buried her nose in the flowers. “Oh, Adalbert. You remembered.” Her eyes glistened. “Is too long since we celebrate.”

  “What is imny-whatever? Is that your anniversary?” asked Floyd, poking his head in.

  “My name day,” explained Aunt Elsie, shooing everyone back into the living room. “In Poland, children are called after a saint. Each saint has, how you say? A feast day. Imieniny, name day is day we celebrate saint we named after.”

  Kate leaned against her bedroom doorway. Another Polish connection Babcia had given up.

  “Like a birthday,” said Mom, also home from work. She unwound a sheer scarf from around her neck. “Except everyone with the same name celebrates on the same day.”

  Elsie smelled her flowers again and smiled contentedly. “My name day comes from my middle name, Petronela. Papa wanted name Elsie, but Mama wanted name day name, too.”

  “Swell, two parties,” said Floyd. “Why didn’t Babcia celebrate her name day?”

  Mom shrugged. “She did. When she immigrated, she listed her name day for her birthday. They were only a few days different anyway. But then she decided to shed her Polish ways and become fully American.”

  “American can celebrate name day, too, nie?” Aunt Elsie asked quietly. She excused herself to go take her bread out of the oven.

  Before joining the family for supper, Kate gathered up her clothes and books. She stepped around the steamer trunk sitting innocently against the wall. She imagined something inside it observing her family. Or at least staring back at her, wondering what she was going to do.

  Why hadn’t Babcia ever talked about their family serving the royal family? Maybe she was afraid Mom would have run off to Poland. Working with their fancy dresses—that would have been a dream for her. Perhaps Babcia was afraid of losing her daughter to the family that turned their backs on her.

  She traced the crest with her fingertips. There were secrets locked inside that trunk. Elsie hadn’t answered her questions, but had given her more things to wonder about. Like what in the world had the two sisters gotten themselves into? And what exactly was she about to get into?

  Chapter Six

  “Ask her,” prodded Josie, pushing Kate toward the rack of skirts Mom was straightening.

  “I will,” hissed Kate, signaling for Josie to get behind her. “Hi, Mom. So, did you talk to Miss Lassiter about me moving into display work when school lets out and Josie taking my place up here?” She pulled a green scarf off the nearest display and folded it into triangle.

  Mom’s hands didn’t stop. “Kate, we’ve talked about this. The window dressers are all men. Besides, women can’t work past ten o’clock.” She reached over and lifted Kate’s face. “I don’t know where your head is sometimes. You need to leave your schedule open for modeling jobs. That is your number one priority.”

  Honestly! Kate nudged her chin free. Window dressing didn’t look so hard. Her dad had taught her to use a hammer to make picture frames. And she was a good painter. She could have painted the clouds and strung the ribbons for the rain. If women could rivet an airplane together, surely they could hammer up a display or two. And if they needed a model for a special display, she could do that. She could do it all. She continued rearranging scarves as she imagined it.

  Mom’s gaze flickered to a middle-age woman looking at dresses. “I’ll be a few minutes late today. Would you go down to Alterations and let Adalbert know, please?” She fixed a smile on her face before turning to greet the customer.

  Josie skipped over. “Well? I couldn’t tell. What did she say?”

  Kate whipped out another scarf, gave it a good snap, then folded it. “She didn’t think Windows was a good idea.”

  Josie frowned. “Neither do I. What fun is there in Windows?” She examined her manicure. “I guess that’s a no for me, too. Let’s go apply at the drugstore. We could make milkshakes and pour cherry Cokes. No new clothes to admire, but we’d get to talk to the cute boys. I have to get a job where you do or there is no way my dad will say yes.”

  Making milkshakes didn’t sound any better than working in Women’s Wear. After one last rearranging of the scarves, Kate turned to leave and bumped into the elegant Miss Lassiter, who wore an aqua-blue sharkskin dress with a single string of pearls.

  “Hello, girls. What a beautiful scarf arrangement. Did you do this, Miss Allen?” Miss Lassiter nodded to the display.

  “Sorry, ma’am. Sometimes I can’t help but rearrange things.” She hoped Mom wouldn’t see her getting in trouble with the boss. But of course, right then Mom looked across the store, caught her eye, and frowned.

  Kate pulled a yellow scarf off the display. “I can put it back the way it was.”

  Miss Lassiter stopped her. “No, dear. Leave it. I think it’s lovely.” Miss Lassiter rested her chin on her pointer finger and studied Kate. “You have an interest in display work? I heard you helped with the windows. A first for Mr. G.”

  “Did he say something? Does he have any openings?”

  Josie pinched Kate’s arm.

  Ouch. She flinched. “Not that I would leave you in the lurch this summer. My friend Josie here would be a shoo-in for my job.”

  Miss Lassiter looked Josie up and down, from the top of her liberty-cut hairstyle to her crisp white blouse, to her wraparound khaki skirt and bobby socks. Josie breathed style. Just like Miss Lassiter.

  “I remember you from the fashion show. You filled in nicely for Kate when she became…” Miss Lassiter searched for a word. “Indisposed.”

  Josie grinned, not looking the least embarrassed. “I’m up on all the latest fashions. I get Stardom, Modern Screen, Glamour…all of them.”

  “Fill out an application. I’ve got another girl getting married next month. Things are changing around here all the time.” She turned to Kate. “And I’ll see what I can find for you to do in our department to pretty things up a bit. I like the idea of a female designer on my team.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lassiter.” It wasn’t Windows, but it was a start.

  The girls walked through Jewelry toward the Fifth Avenue exit. Josie spun around and walked backward. “You get all the breaks, and you don’t even care. Fashion is my life,” she said dramatically. “I wish my mother pushed me into modeling. I could be a star with support like that. But if I can get a job here, I’d be making thirty cents an hour. Depending on my hours, that’s about twelve dollars a week. The clothes I could buy with that!” Josie looked queerly at Kate. “What is it? Why have you got such a funny look on your face?”

  She turned around to follow where Kate’s eyes were looking out the store window. She spun back around, smiling. “That boy out there with the sketch pad? Dreamy, isn’t he?”

  Kate tilted her head, focusing back on Josie. “Dreamy? A pain, more like it. He’s the boy from the fashion show night.” Kate marched outside, calling over her shoulder, “Maybe he can help me get into Windows, and then you can be Miss Lassiter’s Girl Friday.”

  Before she lost her courage, Kate sidled up to Johnny Day and peeked at his drawing. He was concentrating so hard he didn’t notice her. He lifted his head to study the Harmon-Craig window, absentmindedly tapping a charcoal pencil against his lip before he bent back over the tablet and drew. He had his own style: thick lines, kind of dramatic. He was the sort of art student who would impress her father.

  “Hi, there.”

  He glanced up from his drawing. “You again.” He went back to sketching the window.

  “Do you know if your boss need
s any help this summer?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nope…he doesn’t, or nope…you don’t know?” She hated when boys answered so literally. Her brother did that all the time to annoy her.

  “Nope, I don’t know.”

  “Could you find out? You owe me. For the shoe.” She crossed her arms and jutted out her saddle shoe to emphasize her point.

  He studied Kate. “How old are you?”

  “Old enough.”

  He shook his head. “High school. You’re just a kid, Sparky. Besides, there’s no girls in window dressing. Better stick to um, dancing.” His lips gave way to a smirk.

  Kate put her arms on her hips. “Well, how old are you?”

  “Eighteen, not that it’s any of your business.”

  Same age as her brother. “How about I take your job when you go off to war?”

  He snorted.

  “What?”

  “I know your type, nothing but trouble. Acting too big for your britches. The type that butters up to me to see if I can get my dad to hire you for one of his movie roles. Look, kid, I’ve got to get this drawing to the boss. Could you go hang out somewheres else?” He waved his hands like he was shooing her away.

  Movie role? As if! “You’ve got a smudge there on your upper lip.” Kate pointed to his face where the charcoal had rubbed off. “Makes you look like Hitler.”

  Without waiting for a response, Kate strode off to join the startled Josie.

  Josie grabbed Kate’s arm. “I heard what you said to that boy. How could you? That’s the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  Kate’s stomach twisted. She had wanted to pull the words back as soon as they had left her lips, but he got under her skin. Acting like he knew all about what kind of girl she was. “I didn’t say anything real bad. Besides, he wasn’t so nice to me.” Kate spun Josie around and changed the subject. “Let’s go. I forgot to give Uncle Adalbert the message. Maybe he could get you a job in Sewing. Isn’t that the blouse you made yourself?”