Christmastime 1943

by Linda Mahkovec

  “Now, Kate,” said Ed, keeping things in balance. “Sue Ellen’s all right. She’ll make a good farmer’s wife.”

  “She’s had a crush on Joe for years,” added Jessica. “She bought a cookbook and has been practicing. She read that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Shirley says she’s always trying out some new recipe.”

  “I guess that’ll work on some men,” said Ed.

  “All I’m saying,” continued Jessica, “is that most girls would be plenty happy if Joe Madden asked them to the dance. Sue Ellen has tried everything to make him notice her. She picked out that purple calico way back in October and has been slaving over that dress. And she’s going to have her hair set at the beauty parlor so that she’ll have some curls for the dance.”

  “That’s my point,” said Kate.

  “Someone has to get things going,” said Jessica. “How else are people supposed to pair up?”

  “Well, I’m glad Ursula’s not like that,” Kate said.

  “She doesn’t have to be,” Jessica responded. “The boys flock to her like bees to honey.”

  Kate threw her a look, and Jessica decided that enough had been said. Kate collected the plates and returned to the house, while Ed and the others continued with their work.

  Friedrich stood at the barn entrance, looking at the house.

  Jessica observed him, amused – knowing that he had understood the gist of their conversation. She saw his chest rise and fall faster, as if agitated. She shook her head and gathered the thermos and cups. “Like bees to honey,” she said.

  *

  Just as the sun was lowering over the fields, Ursula took a large basket and went outside to gather up the laundry that was snapping in the cold December breeze. She unpinned the sheets, and tossed them into the basket. She heard laughter coming from the front of the house where the prisoners and Ed and Otto were waiting for Zack Wells.

  She walked to the barn so that she could watch them, unobserved. But when she stepped through the side door, she stopped – there was Friedrich, only a few feet from her, looking at the hateful photograph.

  When he saw her, he quickly put the photo back in his shirt pocket and stiffened, as if in defense at the unpredictable behavior of this girl.

  Ursula walked up to him. “Who are you always looking at? It that your Nazi fräulein?”

  His jaw clenched, but Ursula came closer towards him. Believing that his anger was in defense of his beautiful woman back home made Ursula even more reckless. Everything he did made her angry and impetuous. He was the cause of all her pain and confusion and the tangle of misery inside her. She wanted nothing more than to provoke him.

  “Despicable Nazis,” she said, gesturing to the photo.

  His fists tightened at his sides and his chest rose and fell. Gratified, Ursula moved even closer to him.

  “What? Are you going to hurt me? Is that why you’re here?” Though he might not understand her words, she was sure he understood her contempt. She lightly pushed at his chest.

  He took a step back, surprised by her action.

  Though she would later wonder at her boldness, she stepped up to him, their bodies almost touching, and raised her chin.

  “I’m not afraid of you. You Nazis are nothing but cowards. It was someone like you who killed my brother!” She intended to turn and never speak to him again.

  But he suddenly grabbed her arm and drew her so close that she could feel the heat from his body. Then in near-perfect English he spoke.

  “You think you’re the only one who has lost someone?! You think you’re the only one to feel pain? You carry around your loss like a trophy that separates you from everyone else.”

  Ursula’s eyes widened, shocked that he was speaking English. Shocked at his words. Shocked at the voltage running from his hand through her body. She pulled her arm away from his grip, but he then clutched her chin.

  “And don’t you ever call me a Nazi – you stupid girl!”

  Then his face broke and his eyes filled with pain or sadness – she didn’t know which. He was about to say something more, but instead, he quickly turned and left.

  Ursula stood trembling, her arms around herself, not sure of what just happened. Then she unsteadily backed up and sat on a bale of hay, her cheeks still burning. Stunned, she looked to where he had exited the barn.

  She heard Zack’s truck arrive and ran to the entrance of the barn.

  Friedrich and the others climbed into the back, and soon the truck pulled away.

  She waited in vain for him to turn around. The truck was almost out of vision – but still he did not look back.

  *

  Still reeling from the encounter, Ursula was unable to eat dinner, saying she didn’t feel well. She took a bath and went to her room early.

  But Jessica didn’t want to let things rest. She walked into to Ursula’s room and sat down on her bed.

  “Joe’s a nice boy, Ursula. I hope you didn’t hurt his feelings.”

  “Joe and I are friends. We always have been,” Ursula said, somewhat defensively. “But I hope I didn’t hurt him,” she added. “He’s been through so much.”

  Ursula began brushing her hair, avoiding Jessica’s watchful eyes. “Joe understands. He knows that he’s more like a brother to me. That’s how I see him. I can’t help it. You’ll be happy to know that I encouraged him to ask Sue Ellen to the dance.”

  “Hmm. I wonder why.”

  Ursula glanced at her sister. “I thought you would be happy.”

  “I am.”

  Jessica waited, carefully watching Ursula brushing her hair, her mind clearly elsewhere.

  “Why do you always watch him?” Jessica asked.

  Ursula looked up, startled by the simple question. “Who are you talking about?”

  “You know who I’m talking about.”

  Ursula flushed crimson and turned to face her sister. “No, I don’t. Who do you mean?”

  Jessica tilted her head to the side. “I’m not a baby, you know. I see you watching him all the time. Friedrich.”

  Ursula turned back around. “I don’t. No more than I watch the others. I don’t trust them. And you should be more cautious.”

  “They’re nice – all of them.”

  “You should keep your distance.” Ursula brushed her hair vigorously. “I don’t like to see you and Shirley so open and friendly with them.”

  “Don’t worry. We know you want him for yourself.”

  Ursula spun around. “How dare you say such a thing!”

  Jessica immediately regretted her words, but was not backing down now.

  “Don’t be stupid, Ursula. I see how he watches you. His eyes follow you everywhere. You should have seen his face when Joe stopped by. I thought he was going to explode – or cry. It’s like he’s in l – ”

  “Stop it!”

  “As usual, you’ve cast your spell.”

  “Don’t talk such foolishness! He’s the enemy. Do you understand? Don’t you ever say anything like that again!”

  “All right, I won’t. But that won’t stop it from being true.” Jessica got up and went to her room, happy that she had her answer.

  Ursula was pulled violently in two directions. Shameful joy at Jessica’s words – and anguish that perhaps she was revealing something that she didn’t dare name even to herself.

  She looked at her arms, seeing once again his hands on her. She remembered her hand on his chest – and how she had wanted to keep it there.

  She put her face in her hands, hating herself for wanting to melt into him. She was no better than a traitor – to her brother, to herself, to her country.

  The only thing to do was to stay away from him. She had behaved recklessly. Ever since she was a little girl, everyone told her that she was mature for her age. Now here she was, behaving like a foolish schoolgirl. No wonder he despises me, she thought. No wonder he thinks of me as stupid.

  She would never behave like that again. Nor would she giv
e cause for anyone to think she was capable of such treachery. She would learn to control herself, to hide her feelings. It must be possible.

  Chapter 9

  *

  As Lillian overheard Izzy and Mr. Rockwell arguing, she reminded herself how lucky she was to work upstairs in the Art Department. The days when she had worked at the switchboard on the main floor of Rockwell Publishing had always been fraught with the ups and downs of Mr. Rockwell. For the past few years, Izzy had borne the brunt of his difficult ways, but she was fast losing her tolerance.

  Rockwell waved his cigar as he tried to bully Izzy into staying late to finish up on a project.

  “You can’t or you won’t?” he demanded.

  Izzy ignored him as she busily delivered a few papers back and forth between his secretary and a few other harried employees.

  Rockwell was right on her heels. “I asked you a question! Are you unable or unwilling?”

  Izzy stopped and gave him her full attention. She tapped her cheek and gazed up at the ceiling, carefully pondering his question. “Unwilling.” She took her purse from her desk drawer, and grabbed her coat and hat.

  “Fine, then!” Rockwell stormed. “Enjoy your evening, Miss Briggs!”

  “I intend to, Mr. Rockwell!” Izzy called after him, and left the room. She greeted Lillian with an angry shake of her head as she pulled on her coat.

  “I tell you Lilly that man is going to meet my fist before the year is out. Does it matter that I have stayed late almost every night since the war broke out? Does it matter that I have attended every one of his tiresome galas? No. All that matters to him is that today I said, ‘No, I can’t stay late.’”

  Izzy wound up her fist, ready to let him have it. “I told him, ‘Go ahead and fire me – I’ll get a factory job and make double what you’re paying me.’ That shut him up. For a while.”

  “You wouldn’t really do that, would you, Izzy?”

  “I would, and he knows it. Look at how many of the girls have left here. Maureen, she’s a welder, and making good money. Gloria is over at the shipyards and has already been promoted. Why I stay slaving for that man is beyond me.”

  “My neighbor down the street, Mrs. Wilson, has taken a job as a subway train conductor – can you imagine?”

  Izzy considered the image, and smiled. “Actually I can. She’s a very capable woman. I can see her running the whole Transportation Department.”

  Lillian nodded. “I know what you mean. She was made to lead, organize, and command.” She rubbed Izzy’s arm. “Don’t let Mr. Rockwell get to you. He’s just come to depend on you so much.”

  “Rockwell who? All I’m thinking about right now is Archie, and that in,” she glanced at her watch, “thirty minutes, I’m going to be sitting at a restaurant with a checked tablecloth and a lit candle. Then out to a dance. And every night until he leaves. I told him he can visit his family in the day, but from six o’clock until midnight, he’s all mine.” Izzy told Lillian about the clubs and restaurants they had already gone to, and her plans for the next several nights.

  Lillian tilted her head to look at Izzy, once again surprised that she wanted to go to all the old places that she and Red used to frequent. She would have thought –

  “What?” asked Izzy.

  Lillian shook her head and looked away.

  “Tell me – I know you’re thinking something about what I just said.”

  “Nothing, really. It’s just that – those are all the places you and Red used to go. I didn’t think you’d want – ”

  “That’s because they’re the best places in the city. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  They crossed the busy lobby and stepped out into the cold December evening. Izzy, brightening at the prospect of seeing Archie, linked her arm with Lillian’s and squeezed it in joy.

  “I’m falling hard, Lilly. I’ve spent almost every night out with him since he’s been back, and it’s still going great. Don’t you think that means something?”

  “Like what?” Lillian asked, trying to interpret the sparkle in Izzy’s eye.

  “I’m not sure, but – I have a feeling he might ask me something tonight. Or soon.”

  Lillian stopped and faced her. “You mean – propose? So soon?”

  “It’s not so soon. We’ve been writing to each other for months. Some women are getting married to soldiers after just a few days of meeting them. Life is uncertain, furloughs are short and getting scarce. You have to grab what comes your way.”

  Lillian didn’t want to burst her bubble, but something didn’t feel right. It felt too much like a replay. Izzy hadn’t been this happy since – since her engagement to Red. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “I told him you would be there on Saturday – you can’t back out.”

  “I’ll be there, I promise. The boys have their sleepover after Scouts with Mickey and Billy and a few other boys. Mr. Kinney is helping them earn their badge – they’ll be putting on a hospital Christmas show for the soldiers, and then camp out in the bomb shelter and eat GI ration food. So I have the whole night open.”

  “It’ll be good for you to get out.”

  “I get out all the time now. I teach three times a week. I’m getting to know my students better, and I find that I really enjoy teaching. Though sometimes I think they’re more interested in talking than in drawing. But I’ve made sketches for a few of them that they sent home, and there’s a handful of them that sincerely want to learn.”

  “They must love having a gorgeous woman as their instructor.”

  “Oh, Izzy. I’m sure they don’t see me like that.”

  Izzy looked at Lillian from under her brow. “Trust me, that’s exactly how they see you.”

  “Well, there are a few cads, just good-natured teasing. But you can tell they’re just lonely.”

  “Lonely for female company.” Izzy cut in over Lillian’s objection. “Lilly, they’ve been away for months, years even. You can’t blame them.”

  “Well, most of them are perfect gentlemen.” Lillian thought of Ernest and smiled. “There’s one boy, with a leg wound, who looked so sad when I first met him. But he’s really cheered up lately and so looks forward to the lessons. And he’s a fast learner. The doctor told one of the nurses that the art instructions are helping his disposition. He’s been much more cheerful since the drawing classes.”

  “I don’t think it’s the art, Lilly.”

  “Of course it is. It’s very therapeutic.”

  Izzy opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind.

  “That reminds me, Izzy. I have a huge favor to ask. I don’t want to cut into your time with Archie, but do you think you could stop by the hospital one night while I teach? My students are requesting a female model to draw, and I thought you would be perfect.”

  “Aha! So you do understand our boys!” she laughed. “I take it you didn’t ask Mrs. Wilson or Mrs. Kuntzman.”

  “Well, no – I…” Lillian looked down, aware that Izzy was right.

  Izzy gave another laugh. “I’d love nothing more. How about this Saturday? I can stop by your class before meeting up with Archie. And you can join us when you’re finished.”

  “That’d be swell, Izzy. I know it will mean a lot to them.”

  They parted at the corner. “I can’t wait for you to meet Archie – you’re going to love him!” Izzy ran to catch the downtown bus.

  *

  Lillian stopped by Mancetti’s on her way home, and was shifting the bag of groceries from one arm to another when she saw Mrs. Wilson walking briskly towards her. She raised her head and smiled in greeting.

  “Evening, Mrs. Drooms! Getting colder, isn’t it? I just passed the boys going home,” she said, looking back at Lillian’s brownstone. “I told Tommy to put some ice on that eye.”

  “Oh, not again!” said Lillian, infuriated. “I don’t know what’s going on with him, fighting all the time. All he talks about is fighter planes and guns. He just got over
one black eye – and now another?”

  Mrs. Wilson waved away any idea of concern. “It’s just a phase. Mark my words, in another year or two he’ll have his mind on other things, and you’ll be wishing for these less complicated boyhood years.” She sighed deeply, remembering her own children. “They grow up so fast. Enjoy these years while you can.”

  Lillian noticed a Christmas brooch on Mrs. Wilson’s coat lapel, and that she was wearing dress shoes. “Are you going out tonight?”

  “I’m meeting Harry for dinner – can you believe it? He’s gotten all romantic what with me having a job and all.” She leaned closer and placed her hand on Lillian’s arm. “I think it’s his way of saying that he’s going to miss me always being at home for him. If I had known he was going to behave this way, I would have gotten a job years ago!” She fluffed up her graying hair coquettishly, and then whipped out her head scarf and tied it under her chin. “Have a good evening, Mrs. Drooms. And for heaven’s sake, don’t worry about Tommy. Ta-ta!”

  When Lillian opened the door to her apartment, she saw that Tommy and Gabriel were in the bathroom. Tommy had a washcloth under his nose, and Gabriel was washing something out in the sink.

  “You’re in big trouble, Tommy,” Gabriel said.

  “Just hurry up, Gabe. We have to clean it before Mom sees it.”

  Lillian walked to the bathroom and stood in the doorway. “Before I see what?” Her anger vanished when she saw the blood on Tommy’s T-shirt, and his swollen nose. “Tommy!” She placed one hand on his neck and gently took the washcloth away from his nose to take a look. “What happened this time?”

  Tommy took the washcloth back and put it under his nose, wincing. “It’s nothing, Mom. I’m okay.”

  Gabriel avoided her questioning stare and bent over Tommy’s soapy shirt in the sink, rubbing it more vigorously.

  “Tell me what happened.” Lillian had her hands on her hips; the boys knew better than to try to lie.

  “Tommy?” she waited for an answer. She turned to Gabriel.

  “Salt!” cried Gabriel, escaping to the kitchen. “Salt takes blood out.”

  Tommy went to the living room and sat on the couch.