by Julie Lawson
Jane turned such a desperate red we didn’t need an answer.
Then she took the letter out of her uniform pocket and showed us how Luke had taken a French stamp and put it on at an angle. We didn’t know why that would make her happy, until she told us that it means “I love you!”
The trolley smelled of damp wool because of the rain, and the windows were all steamed up. We drew a heart on our window and wrote Luke Loves Jane. Jane threatened to throw us off when she saw it, but it was only her voice that was angry. Her face looked right pleased. After that we moved to another window and played tic-tac-toe. Jane gave us some toffees.
Now I’ve got some new things to wonder about.
What will Luke think when he finds out his sweetheart is working on a trolley?
I asked Mum and she said it’s only until the war ends. Then the soldiers will get their old jobs back.
But what if Jane likes her job and doesn’t want to give it up? Can they make her? And what if the war doesn’t end? Could I get a job on a trolley?
Well Mum lost her patience, the way she does these days, and said, “Enough, Charlotte! Get those old flannel sheets if you’ve nothing better to do and start ripping!”
I wasn’t fast enough to think of anything better to do, so I ripped up the flannel. Now it’s ready for mustard plasters the next time somebody has a cold.
When I was finished, I said to Mum, “Cold comfort, that’s a mustard plaster.”
She told me not to be smart.
Then Ruth, playing the role of Mary Pickford, Suffering Patient, limped into the kitchen for a chat and I came upstairs to write in my diary. It’s a treat having the room to myself.
Sunday, November 18
Got another bookmark today for reciting the 23rd Psalm. The Lord is my shepherd and so on. I love the part that goes, He leadeth me beside the still waters.
Still waters, there’s a rare event in Halifax, but a beautiful phrase.
Muriel called me a show-off for memorizing things when I don’t have to, but I wasn’t showing off. I like to learn things by heart. It runs in the family. Dad can recite all sorts of poems, even long ones by Robert Service, like “The Shooting of Dan McGrew” and “The Cremation of Sam McGee.”
Right now Robert Service is in France, driving an ambulance for the Red Cross. He wrote a book of poems called Rhymes of a Red Cross Man. Dad brought it home from the library. He was going to memorize a poem called “Fleurette,” about a soldier who loses his leg and has terrible scars on his face, but we told him to find something more cheerful.
Ruth is over her cold and back to school tomorrow.
Monday, November 19
A Cloud of Doom has settled over our house and it’s all because of me. Somehow I let it slip that Duncan and I saw Ruth down at the harbour a few weeks ago, flirting with sailors. So for the rest of November she’s not allowed to leave the house on Saturdays and she has to come straight home after school.
Oh, she’s some angry. After supper she did her chores and her schoolwork, then plunked herself down in the living room with her knitting. It was far from peaceful with Ruth snarling at the knits and purls and yanking at the wool as if she wanted to strangle someone. No need to guess who.
Pity the poor soldier who gets a pair of Ruth’s socks in his Christmas stocking. They’ll be so full of knots and bad humour, he’ll want to fire them off at the Germans.
Secret Weapon unleashed by Canadian Forces! Halifax Socks take a Terrible Toll of Slaughter!
Good thing I threw away the key to the closet.
Later
Luke, when you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak light of the war, about socks being a secret weapon.
Tuesday, November 20
My heart stopped when I came home from school and found Mum crying at the kitchen table. My only thought was that something had happened to Luke.
Thank heavens it wasn’t that. It was a poem Mum cut out of the newspaper, and it’s so beautiful and sad it made me cry, too.
It’s called “In Flanders Fields” and I’ve already memorized the first verse:
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place …
That’s how it starts.
The poem was written by a Canadian doctor called John McCrae. He wrote it two years ago after seeing his best friend die on the battlefield in Flanders.
Wednesday, November 21
Today was the worst day of my life. At first it was special, because Mr. Barker had to leave the room and left me in charge of the class.
A few minutes later, Brian started singing, “Charlotte loves Carl,” and half the class laughed and joined in.
Oh, the humiliation. I said it wasn’t true but Brian said it was. And to prove it, he held up the secret note I’d put inside Carl’s desk.
Well I tried to grab it but Brian jumped up and waved it out of my reach, still singing, “Charlotte loves Carl,” so I started to chase him — and in walks Mr. Barker.
Instant silence. Brian and I stop dead in our tracks.
Mr. Barker doesn’t ask what happened or who started it, just hauls us up to the front for the strap. “I never would have expected this of you, Miss Blackburn,” he says, and gives me a stinging whack on each hand.
On the way back to my seat I caught Duncan’s eye. I could see he was upset so I said, “It didn’t hurt.”
I said it softly, almost in a whisper, but Mr. Barker with the third ear, he heard me and said, “Then get back here for another one!”
Well, then I couldn’t hold back the tears, and my hand was shaking so much he missed the first time, and didn’t he make up for it, the hateful swine.
After school Muriel said she was surprised, the way I’d chased after Brian. “It’s just what Anne would’ve done,” she said, and her voice was full of admiration.
She told me that I could be Anne the next time we play a scene, but I’d rather be Diana after all.
Thursday, November 22
Wind, rain and snow. Mum wouldn’t let me go on the milk run, in spite of my pleading.
“And have you catch your death in this weather? No!”
So Ruth pipes up, “What about catching our death on the way to school?”
The very thing I wanted to say, but only Ruth was brave enough to say it. Of course we had to go to school anyway.
After school Duncan and I wrote a new chapter in our book, in which Bully Barker gets captured by Dragon Man, and the Intrepidous Twins ignore his cries when he’s getting strapped. Duncan the Fearless and Charlotte the Brave rescue him in the end, but only after he swears he’ll never yell at his class or use the strap again. To make sure he keeps his promise, they chop his strap into little pieces and make him swallow every last one in front of the school at a Special Assembly. It takes a long time. And as they watch, the students of Richmond School clap their hands with glee.
Luke, when you’re reading this, you might wonder why I wrote a note to Carl. It was to cheer him up when he comes back to school after having the whooping cough. It said, Dear Carl, I hope you’re feeling better. Yours truly, Charlotte. I drew a few red hearts on the paper, but only for decoration, because they’re easy to draw.
Bully Barker ripped up the note and threw it away. I’m not going to write another one, not with Brian Nosey Parker around. He had no business snooping in Carl’s desk in the first place. Just wait until he’s in the clutches of Dragon Man.
Friday, November 23
Edith is making me a velveteen dress for Christmas! It will have a white collar and cuffs and be shirred around the waist. The colour is called Midnight Blue.
I’ve never had a velveteen dress before.
Saturday, November 24
The Intrepidous Twins have uncovered a big secret.
Late this afternoon, when Duncan and I were coming back from Carl’s house, we spotted Ruth talking to a group of her friends. We ducked behind a shed
and listened, and after that we went over the words so we wouldn’t forget.
“ … last day I’m spending in school,” Ruth says. “I’ve got a job at the telephone company.”
“You have to be sixteen,” says one of her friends.
“I’m close enough,” says Ruth. “And what do they care? They’re desperate for workers and they said I could start on December sixth.”
Then Duncan and I had a dilemma. Should we tell on Ruth? We talked it over and finally decided not to. Ruth might be making it up to impress her friends, and if she isn’t, well just let her try picking on me now! Duncan says a spy should always have a secret stashed away, because you never know when it might come in handy.
Carl’s feeling better. We played Geography at his house but couldn’t make any noise because of his Uncle Ted. He’s staying at Carl’s until he’s well enough to go home to Amherst. He just came back from the war and has shell shock. Every night he has nightmares and wakes up screaming. Whenever he hears a loud noise, like the trolley bell ringing or a door slamming shut, he drops to the floor and covers his head because he thinks the Germans are attacking.
Sunday, November 25
One month from today I’ll be wearing my midnight blue velveteen dress. Edith says the colour’s a perfect match for my eyes.
Duncan suggested we send our Dragon Man book to Luke for Christmas. Ruth overheard and said it was a stupid idea, which means it’s a wonderful idea and she wishes she’d thought of it.
We’re going to write one more chapter. It’s called, The Intrepidous Twins (with the help of Luke the Courageous) Smash through to Victory! Dragon Man is Vanquished! Peace Rules the World!
Monday, November 26
Went to the store for Mum after school and Mr. Heine gave me his usual handful of candy. I’m glad Mum still shops at Heine’s store. Muriel’s mum hasn’t gone there since the beginning of the war. I don’t understand, since Mr. Heine is the same person he was before. At least Muriel’s still allowed to play with Eva.
I wonder what will happen when the war ends. Will his old customers go back as if nothing has happened?
One week left in the sock-knitting contest, but I have no hope of winning. Eva’s finished six pairs to my four. A lady in the South End has knitted 193 pairs of socks since the war began.
I put my best socks in our family’s Christmas package for Luke. All the other pairs are going to the Red Cross. I finished the balaclava, but it’s twice the size of a normal head.
Just had a terrible thought. What if we don’t win the war?
I wouldn’t dare say that out loud.
Tuesday, November 27
Weather sunny and cold.
Edith mailed our Christmas package to Luke today. Where will he spend Christmas this year? Last year he wrote and told us how the soldiers gathered in a deserted building behind enemy lines and sat down for a Christmas dinner. After dinner they received all the Christmas boxes and stockings that were sent from home.
We didn’t finish our book in time to send it. Lucky for Luke, says Ruth.
Wednesday, November 28
Mum looked me over today and said, Quelle surprise!
The surprise? I’ve grown taller (not wider) without even noticing. Now I can wear Ruth’s hand-me-down dresses, once Mum takes in the seams. Two of me could fit into Ruth’s dresses now. The dark green and white check is my favourite.
Poor old Billy the Pig. His goose is cooked, his days are numbered, and so on. He doesn’t know it, though, so at least his remaining days won’t be ruined.
I asked Mum what it would be like, going along from day to day with no worries and nothing to wonder about. She told me to put my mind to better use. So I came upstairs and wrote in my diary. Now what? Guess I’ll practise my arpeggios. They’re harder to play than scales, but I love the way the notes skip under my fingers.
Weather cold, with light snow falling.
Thursday, November 29
This morning I gave Haggarty my balaclava and said Queenie could have it to keep her ears warm. But Haggarty? He puts it on over his hat and says he’ll wear it himself!
He looked right silly, with one of the eye holes big enough for his entire face. Every stop we made, people laughed. I’m glad my balaclava’s good for something.
And socks! The first pair I knitted on those skinny Number 10s are all out of shape and I’m too embarrassed to send them to the troops. Dad said the boys wouldn’t mind so long as the socks were warm, but if I really don’t want to send them, I could give them to him. So I did.
“A perfect fit for my big feet!” he says.
Not true, but kind of him to say so.
Friday, November 30
Hurried home from school to try on my midnight blue velveteen dress. Edith had me stand on a chair in our bedroom so she could pin up the hem, but I kept fidgeting, I was that excited, because the dress, oh, it’s beautiful!
Finally Edith lost her patience and said, “If you don’t stop squirming, you’ll never get the dress!”
It was the first time Edith’s ever spoken to me like that and I was shocked into standing still.
“Edith!” said Ruth. “What’s got you in such a snit? Sir Winnipeg not coming tonight?”
That’s Ruth for you, always quick with the hurtful words.
Edith ignored her, but didn’t I give Ruth a glare, the heartless beast. As if she could ever be like sweet Mary Pickford.
When Edith finished pinning the hem she apologized for losing her temper.
And Charlie DID come calling, like he’s been doing at least twice a week. So ha ha on Ruth.
I wish we’d hear from Luke. “No news is good news,” Mum says, but she says it to convince herself, I think, because her eyes can’t hide the worry.
Maybe he’s busy writing diary entries instead of letters. I hope so. I’d hate to think his life in the trenches is so wretched he can’t bring himself to write in his usual good-humoured way.
He’s hardly ever complained. Except when he was describing No Man’s Land. Mum says she’s grateful for that, and I am, too, because don’t we already know from the returning soldiers how awful it is over there?
Muriel told me that her dad’s cousin got “trench mouth,” a horrible gum infection, and as soon as one person gets it, everyone gets it. Same with lice. She started to tell me about the rats that live on the dead soldiers’ corpses, but I couldn’t stomach any more and told her to stop.
December 1917
Saturday, December 1
Duncan and I took Kirsty for a run on Fort Needham. We threw her ball and raced her for it, but she won every time. She’s right lively for a seven-year-old dog.
Then Carl came along with Boots. Kirsty and Boots tore around greeting the other dogs on the hill, and Duncan and Carl and I had foot races.
It was some fun until Brian showed up and started teasing me. Then he tripped me, but ha ha on him, I caught myself in time and didn’t fall.
After that a bunch of other kids joined us and we played Red Rover, boys against girls. I was always the first girl chosen, no thanks to Brian. Sometimes I had to hold his hand. Thank goodness we were wearing mittens.
Now why would Brian tease me and trip me, then choose me? I won’t ask Edith, because she’ll say what she said before, that boys often do silly things to get a girl’s attention. Like Carl and my knitting. But Brian, sweet on me? I hope not!
Now that it’s December, I wish it would snow. Can’t wait to go coasting.
Sunday, December 2
Church this morning.
Practised the piano this afternoon. Ruth laughed whenever I hit a wrong note, but I ignored her and after a while she went away. Then Edith and I played duets.
Tomorrow’s the first day of winter hours so school doesn’t start until 9:30. I can sleep in! (But probably won’t.)
Monday, December 3
Today we learned that a story has a beginning, a middle and an end. But what comes before the beginning? What comes a
fter the end? Didn’t dare ask Mr. Barker for fear of being called impudent, like the last time I asked a wondering question, but I asked the family at supper.
Ruth puts on a pious expression and says, “In the beginning God created the earth. World without end, Amen.”
Mum gives an “Oh, Charlotte” sigh and says, “You’ll be old before your time with all your wondering. Carpe diem is my advice. Seize the day.”
Then everyone else added their two bits worth.
“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,” says Edith.
“A stitch in time saves nine,” says Duncan.
“Make hay while the sun shines,” says Dad.
We all laugh when Ruth points out, “That’s what I want to do, but you never let me!”
My family, the philosophers. The mood was right cheerful, though no one really answered my question, and I’m still trying to figure out what Duncan’s “stitch in time” has to do with any of the other sayings.
After I did the dishes I played the piano and Duncan played his harmonica and the music took my mind off things.
Now I wonder, Who created God?
What will happen to me in the end?
Tuesday, December 4
Luke’s been seriously wounded. It happened on October 28th at the Battle at Passchendaele. That’s in Flanders, where the “poppies blow.”
We found out today, in a letter he wrote on November 14th, and we were all upset and in tears. Dad was furious that the army hadn’t notified us way back when it happened, or listed Luke’s name among the casualties in the newspaper.
Well it was a long letter, and after supper we sat in the living room and took turns reading it out loud, several times, and before long we realized that it’s a good thing Luke was wounded, because now he’s safe in a hospital, and in England, and well enough to write a letter.
