by Ann Rinaldi
"What's that?"
"I don't know. But Mom was real happy when I left for school. She said if our soldiers do good today, the war could soon be over."
"Wow!" I said. "No more air raids, no more rationing, no more scrap drives."
"No more boys killed," she said. And I decided I'd been right. She was not a kid anymore. And I had some catching up to do to keep up with her.
CHAPTER 21
D-Day didn't end the war, though it was a great victory in Europe. All we had to do now was beat the Japs.
A few days after Jen and I made up, it came to me what I had to do to catch up with her.
After all, I needed to catch up with her. We were going into sixth grade together in the fall.
Sixth graders aren't kids anymore. In public school they're considered old enough to be in junior high.
Already, in our school, when we walked down the street from St. Bridget's School to St. Bridget's Church, the girls of the Golden Band were screaming and carrying on when the boys took their hats.
Before now they had ignored the boys. Before now the boys hadn't bothered taking their hats.
Life was changing. I had to be just as grown-up and ready as all the others for whatever was coming next.
To be honest, Martin is the one who led me to what I had to do, although he didn't know it.
He was doing another scrap drive. He does one every couple of weeks, tugging his old red wagon around to all the neighbors, begging for discarded tires, metal, cans, anything that will help bring us closer to victory.
"Rubber is the hardest thing to get anymore," he told me that morning. "All the old tires are gone. Know where there's any old rubber around, Kay?"
"How would I know?"
He grinned. "Want to give your rubber baby doll this time?"
It was the same way he'd asked for Mary Frances a dozen times, before he started down the drive with the red wagon.
Always I said no.
He was used to it.
This time I didn't say no. This time I didn't say anything for a minute.
Then I sighed while the enormity of the thought washed over me.
Yes, I knew what I had to do. "Wait, Martin," I said. "Wait."
So he waited. And I went into the house and upstairs into my sisters' room.
Mary Frances was sitting there in the middle of my bed, like she always sat, with her little arms outstretched, waiting for me. She was wearing her new dress that Nana had made.
I remembered how I'd told Martin that I could never give her to the scrap drive because they'd tear her apart. And she'd die.
And you can't die when you've just had a new dress made for you.
I know different now. Dolls don't die. Babies do.
And you can die even if you have a new dress.
Nana had made a lovely new dress for Amazing Grace's baby. The baby had died anyway. The dress was packed away now, in tissue paper.
Dolls aren't babies. They're toys.
I know that now. Even though I still don't know, and maybe never will know, why when you're good and do the right thing, sometimes it all goes bad for you.
I picked up Mary Frances and held her against me. Tears blurred my eyes and I felt a great bursting of sadness in me again, like I was drowning. A little part of me didn't want to let go of her. But I had to.
"I'll always love you, Mary Frances," I said. "But you have to go to war now. To save our boys who are fighting for us. So maybe some other girl like Jen doesn't lose her brother."
She understood, if dolls can understand. I know she did. She just kept smiling, smiling right through.
So I brought her downstairs and outside. "Here," I said. And I thrust Mary Frances at him.
Martin's eyes went wide. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"She's your only doll. And dolls are hard to get. You probably won't be able to get another one until the war is over."
"She's only a piece of rubber," I said. "And by the time the war is over, I'll be too grown-up to play with dolls. I'm too grown-up now. Take her!"
He took her.
"And you might as well take this, too. I don't need it anymore." I undid the pedometer from my wrist and held it out to him.
Martin grinned. "Guess you don't," he said. And he took it.
I turned and ran into the house so he wouldn't see me bawling.
In August, for my birthday, I received a package from New York.
It was from Queenie.
It was a pair of blue hand-knitted mittens. And a note.
"Doing fine," she wrote. "My prince will soon be my husband. I'm working in a war plant now, like Rosie the Riveter. We're both saving money. Sometimes I'm so tired, I don't know my own name.
"Saw the story about you in the paper. Mrs. Leudloff sent it to me. I'm so proud of you, Kay! I told you that you'd do something wonderful someday, didn't I? Only that's just the start.
"No more Shirley Temple, I see. Margaret O'Brier now, is it? Yes, I can see the resemblance. That's okay for now, but that'll pass, too. Someday you'll do more fine things and be happy being just Kay.
"Keep smiling through and we'll meet again someday, maybe when the war is over. Love, Queenie."
There was no return address. But I'm hoping. Just like everybody else is hoping they'll meet again with the people who mean most to them, when the war is over.
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BIBLIOGRAPHY
Mappen, Marc, Jerseyana, The Underside of New Jersey History, 1992, New Brunswick, N.J., Rutgers University Press
Sulzberger, C.L. The American Heritage Picture History of World War II, 1966, New York, N.Y., American Heritage/Bonanza Books
The Ladies Home Journal, October, 1942, The Curtis Publishing Company, Independence Square, Philadelphia, PA
Dunning, John. Tune in Yesterday, The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Old-time Radio, 1925–1976, 1976. Englewood Cliffs, N.J., Prentice Hall
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ANN RINALDI is an award-winning author best known for her skill at bringing history vividly to life. A self-made writer, Ms. Rinaldi never attended college but learned her craft through reading and writing. As a columnist for twenty-one years at The Trentonian in New Jersey, she learned the art of finding a good story, capturing it in words, and meeting a deadline.
Ms. Rinaldi attributes her interest in history to her son, who enlisted her to take part in historical reenactments up and down the East Coast, where she cooked the food, made the clothing, and learned about the dances, songs, and lifestyles that prevailed in eighteenth-century America.
Ann Rinaldi lives with her husband in central New Jersey
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READER CHAT PAGE
1. What kinds of sacrifices do Kay and her family have to make for the war effort? What are some of the things that Kay wishes for that she cannot have? How do you think you would have fared if you lived during World War II?
2. Before television, radio was the main source of news and entertainment. What lessons does Kay learn from the heroes of her favorite radio programs?
3. Why does Jen shun Kay's friendship when her brother dies? Do you think that the girls in the Golden Band were true friends to Jen?
4. Why do you think that Amazing Grace was so cruel to Kay and her brothers and sisters? Do you think that Kay's attempt to reach out to her after the death of her baby would have made her kinder?
5. How does Kay feel about Mrs. Leudloff before she meets her? How does she feel about her by the end of the story? What lessons does Kay learn from Mrs. Leudloff about German people living in America?
6. Do you think that Kay did the right thing by revealing the truth of what she saw at Ernie's to the reporters? What were the consequences of her confession?
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