American Progress

by Veda Boyd Jones

  Liese said, “Aunt Frances, she’s too heavy for you to hold. I’ll take her upstairs and put her in Felix’s bed.”

  “No, no,” Aunt Frances said. “I’ll do it. You sit down and enjoy a rest.”

  Carrie jumped up from the floor where she’d been playing with her new doll. “I’ll come with you, Aunt Frances.”

  “That would be nice,” she said. “Come along then.”

  Felix still slept in a bed with sides on it. Carrie went into the room first and let down the side and pulled down the covers so Aunt Frances could lay Patty down. “Thank you, Carrie. You’re such a good helper.”

  When Patty was tucked in and the two came back out into the hallway, Carrie said, “Before we go downstairs, Aunt Frances, may I ask you something?”

  Her aunt smiled. “So there was more to this trip than just helping your old aunt?”

  “Oh, no,” Carrie said. “I would have helped you anyway.”

  “I’m teasing you. Of course you would. What’s your question?”

  As briefly as she could, Carrie explained about how Vi had acted ever since Dvora had come to live in the neighborhood. “I want to be friends with both of them, but I don’t know how to do it.”

  “It sounds to me like Violet Bickerson is frightened, Carrie.”

  “Frightened?”

  Aunt Frances nodded. “Does Violet have many friends besides you?”

  Carrie shook her head. “We’ve been best friends since the beginning of fourth grade.”

  “I don’t think Vi really dislikes Dvora. I think she’s afraid of losing you as her dear friend.”

  “Why, that would never happen,” Carrie said.

  “But Vi doesn’t know that,” her aunt pointed out.

  Carrie nodded. “I see what you mean. What do you think I should do?”

  “Perhaps you could think of ways to reassure Violet of your friendship,” Aunt Frances suggested. “Maybe your mother would let you invite her over to stay the night. To have a little party, just the two of you.”

  “Mother doesn’t really like to have lots of kids around, you know,” Carrie said. “I think too much noise bothers her.”

  “But you could promise to be quiet.”

  “Vi and I sometimes get the giggles.”

  “One fit of giggles isn’t going to hurt Ida. I guarantee it,” Aunt Frances said, smiling. “She’s had fits of giggles in her day.”

  “Do you really think that might work?”

  “It’s worth a try. When Violet becomes more sure of your friendship, perhaps Dvora will be less of a threat.”

  “Oh, Aunt Frances. That’s a great idea. Thanks a lot.”

  The holiday vacation was a perfect time to try her aunt’s suggestion. Carrie waited until the day after Christmas, when all the fuss and bother was over. To her surprise, Mother said she thought it was a nice idea to have a friend over. The next step was to call Violet and invite her.

  Vi’s response was one of surprise. “You want me to come and stay the night? Truly?”

  “Truly. Mother says we can listen to a radio program and pop popcorn. It’ll be ever so much fun.”

  “And no school the next day.”

  “Right. That means we’ll have even more fun. I’ll let you play with my new dollhouse.”

  “You have a new dollhouse?” Excitement was growing in Violet’s voice.

  “Yes, and I want to share it with you.”

  When they hung up, Carrie wondered why she’d never thought of this before.

  Carrie couldn’t remember ever having so much fun with Violet. They played house with the dolls, and then they played house with the big dollhouse. They played board games and listened to radio programs. Mother allowed them to stay up late that night and sleep late the next morning.

  Aunt Frances was right—Mother didn’t seem to be bothered at all by their noise. It made Carrie wonder why she’d ever thought such a thing in the first place. Best of all, Carrie was able to assure Vi how important their friendship was.

  Late in the afternoon of the following day, it came time to pick up all the toys and put them away. They had promised Opal that Vi would be home by supper time.

  “I’ll walk you home,” Carrie told her.

  “I was hoping you would,” Vi replied.

  They bundled up against the cold and walked slowly together in the pale blue of winter dusk.

  Vi thanked Carrie several times for the wonderful time they’d had together.

  “We’ll do it again soon,” Carrie promised.

  As they approached the Simmonses’ house, sounds of Garvey’s and Nate’s laughing and shouting came floating toward them through the cold winter air.

  “Sounds like they’re having fun,” Vi said.

  “I wonder what’s up?” Carrie felt a funny kind of anxiousness. She hurried out ahead of Vi, and as she came to the other side of the Carrutherses’ house, she saw why. Garvey was teasing Dvora’s cat. Dvora, who was up on the apartment steps, made a feeble cry of protest.

  Carrie had just opened her mouth to order them to stop, when the cat bolted and made a beeline for the street. At the same moment, a car came careening down the street. As if in a fog, Carrie heard the cat cry and heard Dvora scream.

  “Oh no!” Carrie raced out to the street. The car didn’t stop. The driver probably didn’t even know he’d hit such a small animal. The lovely black-and-white cat lay motionless against the curb. Carrie knelt down and touched its neck. She felt a pulse. There was still life.

  “Vanya,” Dvora called out amid choking sobs. “My darling Vanya.”

  “Nathaniel,” Carrie called out, “is Sonny home?”

  “He’s here.”

  “We need a ride to the veterinarian’s. Tell him it’s an emergency!”

  Dvora pulled off her babushka and wrapped it around the cat. With Carrie’s help, they lifted Vanya into Dvora’s arms. Dvora looked up at Carrie with tear-filled eyes. “Everyone whom I love dies. Is there no mercy?”

  “Vanya’s not going to die,” Carrie promised. But she had no idea if the cat would live or not.

  In a moment, Nate was back out at the curb. Nate was shaking his head, his face ashen. “Says he won’t come. Says he wouldn’t lift a finger to help any Jew. Even if it’s a Jew’s cat.”

  Just as Carrie started to protest, the front door opened. Oriel Simmons came down the front stairs of the house. She was dressed in a long wool coat with a thick fur collar. In her hand was a matching fur muff.

  “Nathaniel,” she said in a loud stern voice.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “You go tell Sonny to get up here and get that car of his started instantly. Tell him I said so.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Simmons came over to Dvora. “Come, child. Bring your pet. Let’s get into the car.” Looking at Carrie and Violet, she added, “You girls come along. Dvora will need you there.”

  A disgruntled Sonny came out of the basement wearing only a lightweight jacket and tweed cap. He jumped in his car and drove them to the veterinarian’s office. The old jalopy had a rag top on it now, but it was still very cold inside—nothing like the Ruhles’ warm car.

  Vi rode in the front seat with Sonny, while Mrs. Simmons, Dvora, and Carrie were in the back. As they drove along, Carrie heard Mrs. Simmons whisper something to Dvora. It sounded like “Doosh-sheesh-ka.”

  Carrie acted as though she didn’t notice.

  Sonny stayed outside while the girls and Mrs. Simmons took the cat into the office. Dvora was trembling with fright. When the kind old veterinarian came out to take Vanya, Dvora didn’t want to let go of her beloved pet. “Please, please, don’t hurt my Vanya,” she said with a sad whimper. “I love her so.”

  Carrie put her arm around Dvora’s shoulder. “This man is a doctor for animals, Dvora. He’s going to help make Vanya well.”

  Dvora still had fear in her eyes.

  “You’ll have to trust him,” Carrie said softly. “Otherwise, Vanya may
not make it.”

  Carrie knew it was a difficult thing for Dvora to do to release Vanya into the hands of this stranger.

  “I’ll take good care of her,” the elderly doctor said gently.

  The girls went over to a leather couch and sat down. Vi sat on one side of Dvora and Carrie on the other. Dvora ran her fingers absently over the fringe of the babushka. Mrs. Simmons sat apart from them, her chin up, her back straight, saying nothing.

  Carrie wondered if Mrs. Simmons had been watching the entire episode from her window. Why else would she have appeared at just the right moment? And dressed in her coat!

  The wait seemed like an eternity. Finally, the vet appeared at the door to the reception area. He came right over to Dvora and reached down to take her hand. “Your pet has had a hard blow, but I believe she’s going to be all right. Watch her very carefully tonight. If there are any problems, please call me.”

  Dvora shook her head.

  “They have no telephone,” Carrie told him.

  “She may use ours,” Violet said to the doctor. “I’m her neighbor.”

  “Very well then,” the vet said. “Come this way.”

  As they followed him down the hall, Dvora whispered to Carrie. “This will cost so much money. Uncle can never pay for such a fine doctor as this.”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Carrie said. She’d already been thinking that she would ask her father to pay the bill. Or perhaps Uncle Ken would make Garvey pay for part of the bill since it was his foolishness that had caused the accident.

  Vanya was lying on the table, looking very listless.

  “I’ve given her a sedative to keep her calm,” the doctor explained. “It will take some time for it to wear off.”

  “May I wrap her back up in my babushka?” Dvora asked.

  “You certainly may,” the vet answered.

  When they came back out to the reception area, Mrs. Simmons was standing at the counter paying for the bill from her small, black leather coin purse.

  CHAPTER 15

  The Popsicle Jingle

  When they returned, Sonny was as sullen as ever. He drove up into the Simmonses’ driveway, stopped the car, got out, and went back down to the basement.

  “Thank you for paying—,” Dvora started to say in her quiet voice, but Mrs. Simmons gave a wave of her gloved hand.

  “Please forgive the impudence of my grandson and my nephew, my dear. I trust such an unfortunate incident will never happen again.” She turned and went inside.

  Carrie looked at Vi. “Have you ever …?”

  “Never,” Vi replied to the unfinished question.

  “Such a kind lady, your aunt is,” Dvora said. “I’ll take Vanya inside now where it is warm.”

  “Yes,” Carrie said. “Want us to walk you to the stairs?”

  Dvora shook her head. “Vanya and I, we are fine now.”

  As she turned to go, the front door of the Simmonses’ house opened, and a sheepish Garvey came out.

  “There you are,” Carrie said. “We’d better get home. It’s getting late.”

  “We will,” he said. “But first I need to apologize to Dvora. I never meant for your kitten to be hurt,” he said to the Jewish girl. “Mrs. Harwell told me that teasing could hurt someone, and now I see what she means. I’m terribly sorry, Dvora. Will you forgive me?”

  Dvora gave a shy little smile. “Never has one asked for forgiveness who has been cruel to me. Thank you for asking. I say yes. I forgive.”

  Garvey reached out to gently touch the babushka that covered Vanya. “I’m glad she’s gonna be all right.”

  Dvora nodded. “She is all right. I am all right.”

  Later as Carrie and Garvey were walking home, she began scolding him for what he had done. But then she stopped herself. “You know, Garvey, even though the accident was a terrible thing, God brought good out of it.”

  He was quiet for a moment and then said, “That’s exactly what last week’s Sunday school memory verse was about. ‘All things work together for good to them that love God….’”

  “It’s true.” Carrie pulled her coat collar up around her neck and walked a little faster against the cold wind. “Vi sat next to Dvora at the vet’s office, just as though she were Dvora’s friend, too.”

  They walked along in silence for a time, then Garvey said, “Carrie, I’ve not been very nice to you when it comes to Dvora. I guess I’ve just been saying the same thing Nate says because it was safer that way. I didn’t want to lose his friendship.”

  Carrie glanced over at him. His face was serious. “Do you feel differently now?”

  Garvey nodded. “I never dreamed that Sonny would be so heartless when the poor kitten was hurt. When I say things, I’m usually just kidding. I don’t mean it. When Sonny says it, he really means it.”

  “But, Garvey …”

  “Yeah?”

  “Whether you mean the words or don’t mean the words, they still hurt the one who hears them.”

  “You sure are right about that, Carrie.”

  “Righto, Jake,” Carrie said. And they both laughed.

  It wasn’t until Carrie was back home, taking off her hat and coat, that another thought occurred to her. Nate had not shown his face at all after they returned from the vet’s office. Why had he not apologized?

  In Carrie’s opinion, January was of little use except to hold a space between New Year’s and Valentine’s Day. All the excitement of the holidays was over, and the days were mostly gray and dreary.

  At school, Garvey was upset because Nate no longer talked to him.

  “Know what he called me?” Garvey asked Carrie one morning before school.

  “What?”

  “Chicken.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because I apologized to Dvora.”

  “Any time that I ever had to apologize,” Carrie said, “I found it took courage, not cowardice.”

  Garvey shook his head. “I sure wish it were summer so we could be playing baseball again.”

  Carrie knew what he meant, but she didn’t think a game of baseball was going to help this situation.

  Vi, too, was worried about Nate. “He just acts strange,” she said.

  “What do you mean by strange?” Carrie asked her. They were sitting together at Vi’s desk, eating their lunch.

  Vi shrugged. “I can’t explain it. He’s just different. He doesn’t talk to me or tell me things like he used to.” She squeezed her eyes to shut off the threat of tears. “It never used to matter much that Sonny or Aunt Oriel never spent time with me because I always had Nate. Now this has happened. It makes me feel sort of scared. And lonely,” she added.

  Carrie hesitated a moment, then she said, “Vi, that’s exactly how Dvora feels every day.”

  Vi looked over at Dvora, who was eating her lunch alone. “I never thought about that,” she said. She looked back at Carrie. “Let’s take our lunches over there and eat with her.”

  Carrie smiled. “Let’s do!”

  One good thing about winter was that Mother and Father were home more. Evenings were spent together in the living room listening to programs on the radio and just being together. On one of those evenings in late January, the telephone rang.

  “I hope that’s not the Tribune,” Mother said. She was at her desk typing out letters for one of the clubs she belonged to.

  “I hope not, too.” Father put down the magazine he’d been reading and got up out of his easy chair. He turned down the volume on the radio console before going to the hall to answer the phone.

  From where she was sitting near Mother’s desk, Carrie heard her father say, “Popsicle what? Are you sure the name is Caroline Ruhle?”

  Mother stopped her typing and looked at Carrie. “What’s this all about?”

  Carrie shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  Then from the hall came Father’s voice. “Caroline, do you know anything about a jingle for a radio advertisement for Popsicles?” />
  Carrie clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my,” she said.

  Father came to the door of the living room. “Caroline, this man on the phone wants to know if you will sell your jingle for two hundred dollars.”

  “Carrie,” Mother said, “what have you done?”

  Carrie started laughing. Garvey must have sent the jingle in—or Violet. “May we call the man back?” she said. “I’ll tell you the whole story.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Nolan and Suzette

  Both Carrie’s parents thought the story of her writing the jingle during the summer was very humorous. She telephoned Garvey to ask him about it, and he confessed to mailing her poem in.

  “You ran off that day, remember?” he said. “So Vi and Nate and I wrote it out just as you said it. I didn’t think you would ever mail it in, so I did it myself. You aren’t mad, are you, Carrie?” he added. “I put your name on it. I’d almost forgotten all about it. And by the way, why are you asking?”

  When she told him about the telephone call, he let out a whoop that almost made her drop the telephone. Father laughed. He could hear it several feet away.

  “If I sell the jingle,” Carrie told her cousin, “I’m going to give you half of the money.”

  “Wow, Carrie. You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know I don’t have to. But if you hadn’t sent it in, I would never have sold it.”

  “Wait until it airs on the radio,” Garvey said. “That’ll be exciting. We’ll tell all the kids at Washington Elementary. You’ll be famous.”

  “I doubt that I’ll be famous, Garvey. But it will be fun to hear it on the air.”

  After hanging up the phone, Carrie said to her father, “I think I rather agree with you.”

  “About what?” he asked.

  “I think we should have commercials on the radio!”

  The next day, Father called the man at the Popsicle company and told him that Caroline wanted to sell the jingle, but that the price was $250. Mother said that was because “your father always feels he has to negotiate everything.”