Alice At The Home Front

by Mardiyah A. Tarantino

  After the first spring crop appeared—much to Alice’s surprise, considering the number of birds that had pecked up the seeds—Gramp asked her to fill up some baskets of zucchini and tomatoes to take to Mrs. Parker’s house. She was going to start canning for the winter. Alice thought, Why did they use the word canning when it meant putting the vegetables in glass jars? But that’s what you did with the produce from a victory garden. You canned them for the winter, and if it so happened you didn’t like zucchini, they stayed on the shelf until the following winter, and then you threw them out, but you had done your duty. Of course, you could try selling them to Mr. Chase.

  Alice was always glad to see Mrs. Parker, because it was she who used to babysit her, taking Alice to her house. She was allowed to do things there that Mother would never permit at home—slide down the banister, eat tons of cookies, and ride on top of Puffy, the sheep dog with the wooly hair.

  Alice giggled. Mrs. Parker’s kitchen was as crowded as Alice’s room after a visit from Gladys had left it upside down and messy. There were glass jars piled up in cartons all along the walls, empty ones on one side, filled ones with labels on the other; loads of vegetables, some already washed and peeled in colanders, some still fresh from the earth; a sink full of peelings; and two enormous steaming pots of water on the stove, with glass jars bubbling and knocking around in them. The kitchen table was piled high with dishrags and potholders of various colors, tongs to remove the hot jars, and a pitcher of iced tea, which Mrs. Parker offered as soon as Gramp and Alice stepped through the door.

  “No thank you,” Alice said, noticing something not so clean on the rim of the glass.

  “Come here, Alice, and let me show you how canning is done,” said Mrs. Parker, after she had thanked Gramp for the vegetables. She showed Alice around and told her what Alice had already guessed at a glance.

  “And there on the stove in boiling water is where I sterilize the jars and the tops. The tops are so tightly sealed that no air can enter. That way the veggies’ll keep through the winter.”

  Alice nodded. “They should call it jarring,” she said.

  “And here is my pride and joy!” Mrs. Parker hugged an ugly, metal pot with a glass lookout on top. “My new pressure cooker! This pressure cooker can cook anything twice as fast as a regular pot! You can see how useful it is when you have a whole lot of produce to cook and can.”

  “How can it do that? The pressure cooker, I mean?” asked Alice.

  “Why, the top seals on very tight so that the heat builds up inside, causing lots and lots of pressure, and the little knob here in the glass top bounces up and down to show it’s cooking. Then you turn off the heat when it says to, and it’s all done—in no time!”

  Alice looked at the cooker and thought about the pressure. The pressure reminded her of a volcano she’d read about called Vesuvius that would explode every once in a while when no one would expect it. People lived on the side of the mountain for years and years and didn’t have the sense to move away. Even while it was asleep, it was dangerous.

  She went home and thought about all the good work Mrs. Parker was doing—for Alice’s family as well as for her own—and how the canning allowed the market vegetables to go straight to the troops instead of to the home front.

  Alice fed Bagheera, who was eyeing her with one evil green eye, the other closed, because he’d had no breakfast, what with Alice over at Mrs. Parker’s. Then she worked a little in the garden, weeding between the plants and watering them, turning on the hose to a fast dribble, so as to irrigate the tomato plants without drowning them. “I’m gardening!” she said to herself to mark a brand-new experience.

  When she had finished, she climbed the stairs to her room, took out the math book, and scowled, remembering there was going to be a test. The word problems didn’t make sense to her, mainly because she didn’t want them to. The stories were boring, that’s why. All about red and green fruit. Why not something about airplane squadrons? “Three squadrons took off at 0600 with X amount of fuel, flying north by northeast at …” Oh, well. Maybe she could get Gladys to show her the answers to the apple problems by drawing the answers on her knees under her desk.

  Tossing the book aside, Alice took up her calligraphy brush, mixed a little black ink, and started in on the third page of characters: t’au. But in one bound, Bagheera stepped on the character and made a big black print of his own on the paper.

  “Oh, Bagheera!” Alice gave up. “Why do cats always think they can act like humans? I suppose we can call that footprint maow. It doesn’t look so different from the Chinese.”

  Mother called her for dinner, but after they had finished, Alice’s eyes kept closing in spite of herself; she was so sleepy. She wasn’t used to gardening. Upstairs, she lay on the bed without even taking her shoes off and stared at a design on the wall through half-closed eyes. It looked like a mountain with a cloud over it, lines running down like cracks. It looked a lot like the painting she’d seen of Vesuvius about to erupt. She stared at it for a while until it got blurry.

  Then the mountain suddenly came to life, trembling and heaving, blowing fumes into the sky, and belching hot lava. Everyone was screaming and running for their lives. She saw Mrs. Parker a ways off, backing away, trying to escape the lava, which was catching up to her, lapping at her ankles like fiery dogs’ tongues. Watch out! It would be too late! She was going to be swallowed up alive!

  Now here was Gramp all of a sudden, hurrying into the room and wearing a fireman’s hat. He never came bursting in without knocking. It was clear that something terrible had happened. He took her by the shoulders. “Mrs. Parker’s in the hospital. She’s covered with burns! The doctors don’t know if she’ll survive.”

  Gramp had never talked that fast or looked that upset with his eyebrows all tangled. “All because of that pressure cooker she was using, remember? She was standing right in front of it, and the top blew off with the pressure building up inside. Durned newfangled things—can’t trust ’em! Burned her arms, spattered the veggies all over the walls.”

  Alice woke up and struggled to get off the bed. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, but Gramp was gone. She ran to look for him and, to her surprise, found him downstairs in his armchair, snoozing.

  “Is she alive? Did she die?” Alice cried out.

  Her mother, coming in from the kitchen, stared at her. “Who died? What happened?”

  “Mrs. Parker! Gramp knows about it!” She shook him.

  “Eh?” said Gramp.

  “I just knew it! I knew the thing would blow up like Vesuvius, and now it’s happened. I should have warned her it would,” cried Alice.

  It took a few minutes for Mother to figure out what Alice was talking about. When she did, she explained to Gramp, “Alice must have simply dozed off and dreamt the whole story.”

  “Dreamt it? But it was so real,” said Alice, puzzled. “Can’t we just phone Mrs. Parker to be sure?”

  “Don’t be silly, Alice.”

  Alice lowered her voice. “Please, Mother. She’s my friend. I ask of you seriously. Pleeeease!”

  Mother sighed and dialed the number. She asked about Mrs. Parker and listened for a minute. Yes, Mrs. Parker was fine. She had read the directions carefully. Mr. Parker had checked to see that the cooker was set just right and that there was no chance of it exploding. Yes, Mrs. Parker had already made a batch of fruit that turned out deliciously and would Alice like to taste some?

  “What I’d like,” said Alice, pursing her lips, “is to see Mrs. Parker all in one piece!”

  “Well, why don’t we go for a visit?” Mother picked up her sweater from the chair. “You can examine her all you like. I don’t think you’ll see any burns. And Alice,” she said, giving her a big hug, “I’m glad you have a little concern once in a while for someone besides Miss Alice Calder!” And she gave her another hug.
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  Arriving at the Parkers, Alice was surprised to see Mrs. Parker standing at the door. Without a thought she ran up and hugged her.

  “My, my. I heard about your dream, Alice. I’m certainly glad it didn’t turn out to be true,” said Mrs. Parker.

  “We had vegetables for dinner, and I’m allergic to them,” she answered, glancing at Mother.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Summer Song

  This was going to be a very important day, which was why Alice was trying to find a dress in her closet she really liked, even if it wasn’t a new one. She’d stuffed the light blue one with no waist in the back of her closet, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice it had disappeared. Instead, Alice found a dark blue dress that looked more like a pinafore or a uniform. At least it wasn’t frilly or covered with ribbons. She certainly didn’t want to go dressed like a Kewpie doll. This one was just the right thing to wear to an awards presentation for the young people who had done well in the CAPS that year. Jimmy would be there, of course. He deserved to get an award. Alice had heard that instead of a medal, he would probably get a war bond. But what could you expect? A medal was almost the size of a bullet, and the metal from a bullet could save a pilot’s life.

  Alice took another look out both windows—her own and Gramp’s—and wrote the sighting for the day on the first page of her new logbook. “015 05: P48 heading NNE, approx. 200 MPH, @ altitude 15,000 ft.”

  For some reason, Mr. Parker had asked her to hand in the old one for him to look at.

  The awards ceremony was going to take place, of all things, in the auditorium of Miss Whitaker’s School for Girls. Alice hoped nobody she knew from school would be there. Why should they be? After all, it was a grown-up awards ceremony—not for little girls. Alice smiled to herself. That didn’t include her, of course. She looked at the invitation with the gold and blue border and the CAP insignia and shivered with excitement. Her best friend was a hero! She only dimly remembered how upset she was that they hadn’t allowed her to join the CAPs. All that didn’t matter now. Jimmy had proven himself brave, and he stood for all CAP flyers from Rhode Island, and the spotters as well!

  Mother, Alice, and Gramp entered the auditorium and, at Alice’s insistence, took seats near the front. Alice wondered if Mother had come late on purpose in order to avoid hearing that awful Mrs. Eakley sing the national anthem. Mrs. Eakley was standing on stage with her tight little snood and a mangy bit of dead fox around her neck, paws hanging down with the claws still in them. They all rose for the anthem, and Alice lost sight of the paws. Alice felt sorry for her—until she began to sing. You could see people wince as she missed the high note: “Land of the freeee!”

  Alice thought of a monkey. Mother’s dark eyes rolled up to the ceiling, and she pinched her lips closed to avoid a smile. Alice looked up at her, but she turned away. She’s afraid I’ll make her laugh, thought Alice. Gramp didn’t notice and was nodding to Mr. Chase several rows behind.

  There was Jimmy up on stage, right in front, with his hair brushed back to make every curl disappear, and around him were his buddies seated in three rows of chairs on the right side of the stage. Some of them had suits on with neckties hanging like puppy tails or tucked sloppily in their pants. It was the CAP’s fault for not giving them uniforms.

  On the left side of the stage sat one man in uniform she didn’t recognize, probably representing the Office of Civil Defense, and next to him the officer in charge of the Civilian Air Patrol with a CAP arm band. The mayor stood in the middle in front of the flag, and next to him she was surprised to see Mr. Parker, of all people, in charge of the Ground Observer Corps—her very own spotter division. And there was Mr. Hopkins—who had no business being there at all because he was only an air-raid warden—sitting up there on stage.

  The mayor was the first to step to the podium and take the mic. He could barely reach it, Alice noticed, but it didn’t matter because he immediately turned the mic over to the OCD man in uniform. The OCD man began a long speech about how great it was to have civilian pilots protecting and defending the coast and how they’d sighted Nazi subs and caught spies entering the country. He finally stepped away and let Jimmy’s boss, who was in charge of CAP, have his turn. He talked about the dangers these pilots faced, how many of them had never returned, and how others had faced death ditching into the cold, gray waters of the Atlantic. Alice glanced back a few rows to see Mrs. Brownell biting her lip and staring up at the stage at Jimmy. Beside her, Mr. Brownell, red faced, was trying not to look as proud as a peacock. Just then, the mayor stepped forward and handed a large envelope to Jimmy’s boss, who bowed slightly, turned to the podium, and announced:

  “I would like to take this occasion to honor one of our brave pilots who survived the winter ocean and a perilous ditching by putting into practice the survival measures he had been taught in his CAP training. After a stay in the hospital, instead of going home for a little relaxation, he went straight back to the CAP …” Much, much too soon, thought Alice. “… and resumed serving his country by reporting enemy subs, searching for lost planes, and performing all of his former duties. It is with pride that I ask Mr. James Brownell to step up to the podium and accept this war bond from the CAP and the OCD.”

  “I’ll bet that’s the first time he’s ever been called Mr. James Brownell,” Alice whispered to Gramp. She began bouncing with excitement in her seat as Jimmy stepped forward, trying to straighten a stray curl as he went. Mother put a hand on Alice’s arm to calm her down. Everybody clapped, and Alice heard loud yells from Bill and Moses in the back row. Jimmy shook the officer’s hand and waved his war bond at the audience, and especially at his mother. He went back to his seat, amid the applause, tapping some of the pilots on their shoulders with his war bond as he passed by them.

  Then came Mr. Parker’s turn, and the auditorium settled down.

  “As officer in charge of the Ground Observation Corps,” he began, “I am sure you citizens are all aware of the lengthy and lonely hours and the unwavering dedication of the members of the GOC—our spotters, as we call them—who, with their constant vigilance, are protecting us all from possible invasion by enemy planes here on this very coast. You may also be aware that shelters for the GOC are few and far between. So it is with …”

  Alice’s mind began to wander as he droned on. She looked around and was surprised to see her whole class was seated on the left side of the auditorium, as well as several of the teachers, including Miss Prichard, the principal. She tried to catch Jimmy’s eye, but he was whispering to someone sitting on his left. She opened her purse, took out a hanky, and wiped her nose so she would keep alert, but she stopped in midwipe as she heard the next sentence:

  “As an example, I would like to introduce you all to Miss Alice Calder, whom we have named Spotter of the Year. Alice, would you come forward, please?”

  What? Alice’s mouth fell open. Gramp, grinning, tugged at her arm and helped her out of her seat. Mother was smiling with all her lovely teeth. Alice realized then that they had known all along!

  It seemed like it took Alice hours to walk up that long aisle with all those eyes on her—her classmates, who usually avoided her, were wide-eyed with admiration. She even caught a smile and a nod from Miss Pritchard. Gladys, with her lopsided grin, stood on tiptoe and waved at her hard enough to break a wrist as Alice mounted the stairs to the stage.

  But Mr. Parker was not finished. “I have received many logbooks from our spotters. Most of them are quite adequately annotated. With Miss Alice here, well, ahem, I have to admit I never gave her much encouragement. In fact, I told her she was too young. But I didn’t know how talented and determined she was. Miss Alice Calder, in this logbook of hers, ladies and gentlemen …” and here he waved the logbook he had asked her to hand in a few days before with its dog-eared pages and orange juice stains. “In this logbook of Alice’s are noted the type of airplane, the speed at which
it was flying, as well as the altitude—approximate, of course—and the exact direction it was headed. No one in the history of the GOC—admittedly, not a very long history—has ever included so much detail on every single day—hmph, almost—since the first entry of the logbook. For her thoroughness and diligence, therefore, we award Alice the title of Spotter of the Year. I am pleased to—” He turned to find Alice looking elsewhere.

  Alice snapped back to attention. She had been trying to catch Jimmy’s eye.

  “I am pleased to reward you, Alice, with a fifty-dollar war bond and an arm band with your spotting location.” Alice was surprised to see 223 Owen Street stitched under the insignia. “And to include you officially as a member of the Ground Observer Corps under the regulations of the Office of Civil Defense.”

  Alice shook Mr. Parker’s hand and was so excited that she made a little curtsy by mistake. She was met with a wave of applause as she descended the steps and floated back to her row.

  Mother said as they left, “Why don’t you walk home the long way, Alice, and take a little fresh air after all this excitement.” Alice was more than happy to—a chance to think it all over by herself.

  Once out on the sidewalk, Alice realized that all she’d been hoping for had come true. (Well, not all, thinking of the CAP, but almost all.) At least maybe now everybody wouldn’t think she was a kook. It wouldn’t be just Bagheera and Gramp who were proud of her. Mother too. And that was something. The glory wouldn’t last forever, she reasoned. She knew that, but it didn’t make her sad. Alice was almost never sad, because the world was such an interesting place. There was always something to learn about, to discover, and to fight for. And right now she was fighting on the home front, like everybody else in Providence, Rhode Island, so the boys would come home soon.