On Wednesday, after I had lunch at home, I tied the shoelaces of my shiny black patent leather tap shoes together the way Mom showed me. I carried them over my shoulder so all the kids in the school yard could see them.
On the way down King Street, Miss Kiniry, my first-grade teacher, saw me.
“Well, Tommy,” she said, “are those your nice tap shoes?” (The teachers all called me T-O-M-M-Y, not T-O-M-I-E.)
“Yes, Miss Kiniry,” I answered. “I’ve got an extra part in Miss Leah’s dance recital and I’m going to a special rehearsal after school. I’m going to be KING NEPTUNE.”
“Well, that’s very exciting,” Miss Kiniry said. “Are Carol Morrissey and Patty Clark going with you?”
“No,” I said. “Just me. I have to recite some things to introduce each number and then I get to sing a solo, so I need extra practice.”
“Good luck,” said Miss Kiniry. “I know you’ll be very good.”
As I turned into the school yard, I saw Buddy and some of the other sixth-grade boys talking together. The way they were talking and laughing and looking at me began to scare me.
All of a sudden, I was surrounded by the bigger boys and they started teasing me. One said, “La-de-doo—gonna dance for us?” Another boy said, “What are those shiny shoes for?”
Then the boys began shoving me around. “What are you, a sissy?”
I kept looking around to see if my brother would stick up for me and help me. But Buddy was just watching and smiling.
Then they grabbed my tap shoes and started playing catch with them. I tried and tried to grab them, but they threw them over my head.
“Those are my special tap shoes,” I cried. “Don’t break them.” But the more I yelled, the more they teased me. I started to cry. “Buddy, help me, please!” I shouted.
Buddy turned his back as if nothing was going on. I looked around to see if there was a teacher monitoring the play yard, but I couldn’t see one. What was I going to do? I needed help.
All of a sudden, Carol Crane and a few of the older girls in fifth and sixth grade grabbed the tap shoes.
“You bullies, stop that!” Carol yelled.
“Yeah, leave Tomie’s tap shoes alone,” Anna Yara shouted.
“Pick on someone your own size, you big jerks,” cried another girl.
“Baby!” yelled one of the boys. “Gotta have help from girls.”
“Here, Tomie,” said Carol, handing me my tap shoes. “Stay here with us until the bell rings to go in.”
“What am I going to do after school?” I was crying even though I didn’t want to; I was really scared. “I have to walk to Miss Leah’s by myself. What if some of those boys follow me and beat me up?”
“I live on Hanover Street,” said a sixth-grade girl I didn’t know too well. “I’ll walk you. Those boys won’t dare bother us! You’ll see. I’ll meet you right in front after school.”
I was so glad. But I still didn’t understand why Buddy didn’t help me.
During class, the school secretary, Miss Philomena, came in and said, “Tommy, Miss Burke would like to see you in her office.”
What did I do now?
As we walked down to the principal’s office, Miss Philomena said, “Don’t worry, Tommy. You’re not in any trouble.”
I sat on the bench under the big clock and waited until Miss Burke came to the door of her office. “Please come in, Tommy,” she said. “Have a seat.” I got in the chair opposite her desk.
“I hear that there was some . . . trouble in the school yard. Is that right?” Miss Burke said.
I nodded.
“I was told that some of the older boys were teasing you and throwing your tap shoes around. Is that true?”
“Yes, ma‘am,” I answered.
“Well,” Miss Burke continued, “we can’t have that kind of behavior in the school yard. I am going to have a talk with ALL of the older boys, not just the ones who teased you. That way no one will try to ʹget even with you.‘ Does that sound all right?”
“Yes, ma‘am.”
“Now, would you like me to call your mother to come and meet you after school so you can get to Dancing School without any trouble?”
“No, ma‘am,” I answered. “One of the sixth-grade girls is going to walk with me. She lives on the way.”
“Good,” Miss Burke said. “And, by the way, Tommy, I suggest that the next time you have to bring your tap shoes to school, you bring them in a paper bag or something. So they won’t be so noticeable. You can go back to your class now.”
After school, the girl—whose name was Lorraine—was waiting out front for me. The boys didn’t bother us.
I told Lorraine about being King Neptune, and Carol and Patty and Billy, and the song I was going to sing. Lorraine was very nice.
I said good-bye to Lorraine at the train tracks and went on to the Hamrah Building and up to Miss Leah’s.
She was waiting for me. There was a big chair in the middle of the dance studio facing the mirrors.
“Okay, Tomie. The show will start with you sitting in the chair, which will be decorated to look like a throne under the sea.” She showed me a drawing of what the throne would look like. It would be draped with fishnets, starfish, shells, and make-believe seaweed. “The whole scene will be set and the curtain will open. You’ll wait until the spotlight hits you, then I want you to stand, holding the trident in your left hand, come straight down front, and begin your piece. Have you had a chance to learn any of it? You can read it today if you want.”
“I don’t have to, Miss Leah. I’ve already memorized it,” I told her.
“Wonderful!” she said. “Here’s your prop trident.” The prop trident wasn’t the final one. It was made of heavy cardboard. The real one would be made of painted wood.
“Okay? Curtain. Spotlight.”
I stood up and walked forward.
I began. “I am King Neptune, the king of the sea. Tonight is the night for a bit of revelry.”
When I finished the first part, I backed up to the chair. “Wait,” said Miss Leah. “I have an idea. Why don’t you turn around so you can twirl your cape and walk back to the throne, turn, and sit.”
I pretended I had a cape and tried it.
“That will be great,” said Miss Leah with a big smile. “Now, one by one, you will introduce each dance number.”
My favorite introduction was for “The Pearl in the Oyster Shell.” It was going to be an acrobatic dance. I couldn’t wait to see that one.
Then, for the finale of Act One, I would sing my solo, “What Kind of a Noise Annoys an Oyster.” It was a very funny song. I rehearsed it with Mrs. Anderson a couple of times. I was very lucky because songs were easy for me to memorize.
As I was practicing, Mom came in with my baby sister, Maureen. When we had finished the rehearsal, Miss Leah said, “Floss, the material and pattern for Tomie’s costume came today from New York.” Miss Leah unwrapped dark green velvet for the tunic, silver cloth for the decoration, and beautiful pale green soft China silk for the cape. Also there was a pair of acrobatic shoes that would be painted green. My silver trident and crown would be the rest of my costume.
My dad would make the trident out of wood and my crown would be made out of buckram (whatever that is) and painted with silver paint.
I was so excited that I talked about the rehearsal with Mom all the way home on the bus.
But I still wished that Miss Leah would let me wear that long white beard.
Chapter Four
Today at Dancing School we rehearsed our “A Couple of Couples” dance number. The number starts out with Carol and me coming in from the right and Billy and Patty coming in from the left, doing a FOX-TROT box step. We meet in the middle and all sing the song “We’re the Couple in the Castle” from the movie Mr. Bug Goes to Town. Then we do our tap routine.
Miss Leah actually clapped when we finished. We were so proud. “It’s just like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, only double,” Mrs. Anderson said. But
Carol and I want to be Judy and Mickey because they’re younger.
Next Billy and I practiced our “Uncle Sam Gets Around” special, and then I practiced singing “What Kind of a Noise Annoys an Oyster” for my King Neptune part.
It was a really good dance class. It’s a little sad to think that we only have two more weeks of classes before the recital. Then Dancing School will be over for the summer and won’t begin again till fall. Miss Leah always goes to New York City for a few weeks to study and “catch up on all the new techniques and trends,” she says.
Miss Leah’s mother, Mrs. Grossman, measured my head for my King Neptune crown and then she gave each of us—and our mothers—our packs of tickets for the recital. Mom took thirty to sell. Mom and Dad know so many people and Mom is sure that lots of them will want to come. Miss Leah’s recitals are famous for being really good. The newspaper even writes about it, and this year Miss Leah thinks it will be the best one yet!
Chapter Five
On Sunday afternoon there was a good-bye party for Uncle Charles at Tom and Nana’s house in Wallingford. Lots of his friends were there. Everyone was trying not to be sad, especially Uncle Charles’s girlfriend, Viva, and his best friend, Mickey Lynch. We had two of my favorite things to eat: celery stuffed with cream cheese and Mount Tom sandwiches. Mount Tom is something Tom makes in the meat grinder in his store. He grinds up hunks of ham and pickles and mixes it with his favorit mayonnaise, Hellman’s (Nana’s favorite mayonnaise was Cains). Tom decided to call this sandwich spread Mount Tom after the place where his brother, Uncle Jack, has a cabin. Tom invented it for all the Downey family picnics that they had on Mount Tom.
Then, just like every Sunday, Tom and I listened to “The Shadow” and “One Man’s Family” on the radio before we left for home. But then I thought, It won’t be like every Sunday anymore without Uncle Charles.
I’m going to miss him. Uncle Charles is going to a place called Fort Devens in Massachusetts for his “Basic Training,” which is when the soldiers learn how to fight in the war. I want Uncle Charles to stay in our country so he’ll be safe. Not like Blackie.
I told Tom, “It won’t be as much fun without Uncle Charles around. He always tells me jokes and goes with us to Foote’s for ice cream when we come here.”
“Don’t you worry, Timothy, me bucko,” Tom said. (Tom called me “Timothy, me bucko” as a nickname.) “I’ll make sure you have a good time when you come to visit. Then we’ll have a lot of stories to tell your uncle Charles when he comes home. I’m going to miss my boy, too.”
It’s hard to think that Tom, my grandfather, is Uncle Charles’s FATHER, and not just Mom’s.
“We’ll just have to make do for the duration,” said Tom.
“What’s the duration, Tom?” I asked.
“It’s the time that the war will last,” he answered. “Everything is changing so fast, and we have to be brave.”
I know I’m lucky to have such a special grandfather and such a great family.
Chapter Six
I can’t find my diary key. Without the key I can’t open my diary and write in it. I put it and my skate key under my pillow last night when I had to take a bath. I looked and looked all over, under the bed, under my bedside table, everywhere. My skate key was still under my pillow, but not my diary key. I decided I’d better tell Mom.
“I’m sure it will show up,” she said. “I’ll keep my eyes open for it when I’m vacuuming. Now, get ready because you have to leave for school.”
On the way to school, I told Jeannie. She keeps a diary, too. So she understands how important it is for me to find the key.
“Maybe you could write your diary in a notepad,” Jeannie said. “But that might be dangerous. After all, the whole point of a diary is to write down your innermost secrets where no one else can read them. That’s why diaries have little locks and keys.”
“Well,” I said, “I hope nothing too important happens until I find the key.” I decided that I probably could remember stuff and then write it in the diary after I find the key and unlock it.
After we went into our classroom, Miss Gardner said, “Class, in a little while we will go down to the auditorium to see the art exhibit. The kindergarten and the first-graders are going first, then it will be our turn. So, open your reading books and we’ll have silent reading until it’s time to go.”
I was excited about seeing all the art from other kids in other schools. I already knew some of the good artists at our school because Mrs. Bowers, the art teacher who came to visit every once in a while, would put the best pictures up on the bulletin boards in the hallways.
Mrs. Bowers liked my artwork. She always picked out my pictures for the bulletin board outside our classroom. She knew I was going to be an artist when I grew up.
“All right, boys and girls,” Miss Gardner said. “Line up by the door. As soon as Miss Fisher’s room has gone down to the exhibition, we will be next.”
I was standing in front of Jack Rule, who was much taller than me and was one of my good friends in the class.
“We haven’t been down to the auditorium and the basement since our last air-raid drill,” I whispered to him. An air-raid drill was when we had to go to a safe place in case enemy bombers came.
“Tommy!” Miss Gardner warned. I kept quiet. We went down the stairs and there was Mrs. Bowers, ready to welcome us.
“Well, well, well,” she said. “Miss Gardner’s second grade. Welcome to our first citywide art exhibit. Now, take your time and look at all the wonderful pictures hanging on the walls. The names of the children who did them, their grade, and their school are on the little cards next to each picture. Enjoy yourselves. And feel free to talk to each other about the art.”
Miss Gardner frowned. I think she would have liked it better if we were quiet.
We walked around and looked at all the pictures that were hanging on special walls After a while, Mrs. Bowers asked us to that had been put up around the auditorium. There was one girl who was in sixth grade at one of the other schools who was a very good artist. She did a beautiful drawing of a mermaid and another of very bright-colored flowers. Her name was Jean. gather in the middle of the exhibition.
“Girls and boys, I’m asking all the students that come to see the exhibition to vote for their favorite picture,” Mrs. Bowers said. “There are slips of paper and pencils on the table by the door. Please write down the name of the student whose picture you like best.”
I wrote down the girl named Jean who did the mermaid picture.
The art exhibition was up all week. Buses brought other schools to see it. Some King Street students were asked to be “ushers” for the visiting kids. I was chosen by Mrs. Bowers because she knew that I loved art. The ushers had to meet the buses and show the kids the way to the exhibition. I did it three times. I made sure I pointed out the girl named Jean’s pictures of the mermaid and the flowers.
“These are my favorites,” I told them.
I also got to be an usher one day after school. Mom was there with some other ladies from the PTA to serve afternoon tea. I got to pass around a tray of cookies to the grown-ups who came to look at the exhibition.
The newspaper had photos and stories about it. There was a list of the favorite pictures for each grade. My favorite artist, Jean, was on the list.
The superintendent of schools, Mr. Brown, said, “The citywide art exhibition has been a great success. I want to congratulate Mrs. Bowers, the art supervisor, and all the students for such good work. And I want to thank the King Street School teachers and students for being such good hosts. I hope we can do this every year.”
I hope so, too. I was already thinking of what I would draw for next year when I was in the third grade.
Chapter Seven
Tuesday morning, Mom, Buddy, Maureen and I went to Wallingford to say good-bye to Uncle Charles at the train station. It was very crowded with lots of people who were saying good-bye to the other young men who were going off to
Fort Devens, Massachusetts, to learn to be soldiers. Uncle Charles was very popular in Wallingford, so he was put in charge of everyone going. Someone blew a whistle when it was time to leave.
“Okay, men,” Uncle Charles shouted. “Say your farewells and get aboard.” He hugged Buddy and me, kissed Mom and Maureen and Nana. He shook hands with his best friend, Mickey Lynch, and Tom. Then he hugged and kissed his girlfriend, Viva. He jumped on the train and it started up. It would go to New Haven and then to Boston, where a bus would take all the men to the Army camp.
Ladies were crying and waving handkerchiefs. The men were shouting and waving their arms, and then somebody started to sing “God Bless America.” Everybody joined in. Viva was sniffling into her hankie. It was just like a movie.
Tom put his arm around my shoulders and said, “Don’t forget, Timothy, we have to be brave.”
“For the duration, right,” I said.
“Right!” Tom said, smiling at me.
Chapter Eight
I still can’t find my diary key. It’s been five days since it’s been lost and now I’m really worried. I hope I can remember everything that’s happened!
I am getting more and more excited about next year when I’m in the third grade. It seems like all the really good stuff begins when you’re in the third grade—the art exhibition and library time in school.
Every Friday morning a lady named Mrs. Cowing comes to King Street School. She’s the Library Lady. Even though we didn’t have library in second grade, I wanted her to know who I was, so I started to wait for her car to pull up. Then this Friday I asked if I could help her carry in some of her boxes of books.
For the Duration: The War Years Page 2
