American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1

by Susan Martins Miller, Norma Jean Lutz, Bonnie Hinman

  A bundle of letters from Roger had finally arrived in May and twice more since then. He was safe so far, but there were new worries.

  Just last week the papers had headlined the news that the Allies had invaded Italy. The family couldn’t be sure, but it seemed likely that Roger’s unit had been part of that action. Jennie rolled on her side and watched as a ladybug crawled up one of Oscar’s stems. Jennie prayed for her brother every day, but sometimes she wondered how God handled this war business. What if the Italian and German families were praying for their soldiers to defeat the Americans at the same time that the Americans were praying the opposite? What would God do?

  She was finding out that war was more complicated than the good guys against the bad guys like in the movies. The family had received a letter yesterday from the Tanakas. They were still in the internment camp in Idaho. Jennie hadn’t been especially close to the Japanese family, but she knew they were loyal Americans. It was hard to understand why they should be locked up.

  Mr. Romano’s brother still lived in Italy, and Jennie could see that her Italian neighbor was very worried about his brother. Jennie knew that he wasn’t one of the bad guys if he was as nice as Mr. Romano. God had His work cut out trying to solve this war mess.

  Jennie sat up. It was time to go home and do some chores. She glanced around but saw no sign of Tommy. She leaned over and whispered another encouraging word to Oscar. What could it hurt?

  At last August arrived and with it the day of the contest. Jennie and Tommy met Colleen and Stan at the Victory garden early that morning. Aunt Irene had said it would be best to pick everything at the last minute to preserve the freshest taste possible.

  Jennie held up a just-picked tomato and yelled across the garden to Tommy, “This one looks like it would taste delicious! It’s awfully plump and firm, and would you look at that color?”

  “I’ve got one here that’s twice as big, and talk about color,” Tommy yelled back, “why it’s perfect! And I can tell from the smell that it’s going to knock those judges’ socks off.”

  “Why do you two argue all the time?” Colleen asked.

  Jennie looked up from picking another tomato. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “We didn’t used to, but now we just do. He always has to be best at everything.” It was true. She and Tommy argued a lot more nowadays. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but that’s the way it was.

  At last they all finished picking a good amount of each of their ripe vegetables. They took them to Jennie and Tommy’s apartment to wash and choose which ones to put on plates for the judging.

  Tommy was hovering over the kitchen sink, lovingly washing each carrot and ear of corn. Jennie stood nearby with Colleen, waiting to use the sink.

  “You don’t have to take each bit of corn silk off by itself!” she burst out, unable to wait any longer. She kept looking at the clock. If Tommy didn’t hurry up, they were going to be late to the contest.

  “Oh, don’t be such a grouch.” Tommy took another ear from Stan who stood nearby. “We want them to be perfectly clean for the judges.” With exaggerated care he peered at the ear of corn and plucked nearly invisible strands of corn silk from it. Or at least they looked invisible to Jennie.

  “I mean it, Tommy, hurry up.” It took a lot to make Jennie angry, but her brother was getting near her limits.

  “Jennie, go away and leave us alone. Go to the sink in the laundry room or use the bathroom sink.” Tommy continued to pluck at the corn silk. “We still have to wash our tomatoes.”

  “The bathroom sink is too small, and we don’t have time to traipse over to the laundry room.” Jennie’s frustration mounted. “Hurry up!” Her words came out loud. Probably louder than she intended. Stan jumped when Jennie yelled and bumped his arm on the boys’ tomato basket, which had been resting precariously on the edge of the counter.

  The next thing Jennie knew, the tomatoes were spilling out of the basket as it tumbled to the floor. She grabbed for them, but it was too late. They hit the floor and some of them split and splattered juice and seeds everywhere.

  “Jennie Fleming,” Tommy roared, “you did that on purpose!”

  “No, I didn’t!” Jennie yelled. “I’m sorry. It was an accident.” She got down on the floor to pick up the squishy tomatoes.

  “You just want to make sure that you win the contest.” Tommy’s face was red.

  “That’s not true. It was an accident,” Jennie repeated. “I didn’t touch that basket.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “You shouldn’t have left it sitting on the edge. It’s your fault.”

  “What’s going on here?” A calm voice asked from the kitchen door.

  It was Mama, and Jennie knew that tone. It was calm all right, dangerously calm.

  It didn’t take long for Mama to sort out everything. In a few minutes the law had been laid down. The two were forbidden to enter the contest. If Stan and Colleen wanted to take the vegetables and enter, they could.

  “I don’t want to hear that kind of ugly talk between my children ever again,” Mama said. “If we don’t all work together while this terrible war rages, we will not survive. God expects us to love each other and show that love in every way.”

  Mama walked off down the hall, her heels clicking briskly on the linoleum floor. Jennie and Tommy looked at each other.

  “I’m sorry,” Jennie said after a moment.

  “Me, too,” Tommy said.

  Jennie plopped down on a kitchen chair. “Now we can’t enter the contest.”

  “I guess it’s just as well,” Tommy said. “Our tomatoes are ruined.”

  “Your corn is fine,” Jennie pointed out, “and extremely clean.”

  Tommy grinned. “It sure is.”

  Colleen and Stan had been talking and now smiled at them.

  “We have an idea,” Stan said.

  “A great idea, in fact,” Colleen added.

  “Colleen and I will enter the vegetables like your mother said. But we’ll just enter tomatoes and cucumbers for the girls and carrots and sweet corn for the boys,” Stan said. “That way we might win, but we won’t be competing against each other.”

  “If we had thought of that to start with,” Jennie said, “we wouldn’t be in so much trouble. Come on. Let’s leave, or we’re going to miss the whole thing.”

  The hall was packed with people. Many had entered their prize vegetables, but just as many seemed to have come for the fun of it. It wasn’t an ordinary thing to have a vegetable-growing contest in the middle of a big city like Seattle, but then nothing was ordinary during the war.

  Jennie sniffed with pleasure as they entered the big basement room. The fresh smells of all the produce blended together to make an aroma that was almost like vegetable soup. Soon the long tables were covered with plates of corn and beets and tomatoes. Cucumbers and carrots sat alongside.

  With much laughter and pretend ceremony, the judges entered the hall. There were two men and two women, and Jennie thought she saw their eyes widen when they saw all the entries. They didn’t say anything but began working their way down the tables, looking and sniffing and sometimes tasting.

  The hall was hot, and after awhile Jennie and Colleen went to find a drinking fountain. They took turns taking long slurps from the fountain in the hall entryway. Jennie glanced out the open door while she waited for Colleen to take one more drink.

  On the sidewalk stood Pietro talking to a short, brown-haired man who didn’t look a thing like anyone Jennie had ever seen in the neighborhood. In spite of the hot day, the man was dressed in a black suit complete with a necktie and shiny black shoes. Jennie hadn’t seen any shoes that new-looking since the war started.

  “Look out there,” Jennie whispered to Colleen and pointed.

  Colleen looked and groaned. “Pietro has more unexpected days off from work than anyone I’ve ever seen. Too bad our fathers can’t get off as often.”

  The pair outside moved to one side so the girls could
n’t see them anymore. “Let’s see what they’re doing,” Jennie suggested. Before Colleen could respond, Jennie walked the few steps to the door.

  Pietro and his dressed-up friend were walking across the street toward a drugstore.

  “Come on, let’s follow them,” Jennie said.

  “Should we do that?” Colleen hesitated in the doorway.

  Jennie chewed her lip for a moment. She knew what her mother would say about snooping, but this was a special circumstance. She was almost sure of that. “That guy with Pietro looks pretty suspicious. You said yourself that Pietro is always off work. We better check them out.”

  Colleen nodded and they ran across the street to peer in the drugstore window. Pietro and the other man were just sitting down in a booth near the back.

  “Come on,” Jennie said. “We can pretend to look at the comic books on that rack.”

  Colleen looked a little alarmed but followed Jennie behind a counter and back to the magazine rack, which was only a few feet from the booth where Pietro and the man sat. Jennie picked up a comic book and held it right in front of her face. Colleen did likewise. They were careful to keep their backs to the two men.

  “Everything is coming along just as planned,” Pietro said.

  “You seem to have the knack for it,” the other man said.

  A small hand tugged on Jennie’s elbow. “I want that comic book.”

  Jennie ducked her head enough to see that a small boy stood beside her.

  “Go away,” Jennie said in a low voice. This was no time to attract attention.

  “I want that one,” the boy repeated loudly and grabbed for the comic book that Jennie held in front of her face. It slipped, and Jennie ducked down as the boy pulled away the comic book. All Jennie could think of was to get out of sight, so she crawled behind the nearby cigarette counter and toward the front of the drugstore. She looked back and saw that Colleen had followed.

  At the end of the counter the girls jumped up and dashed out the door. They ran across the street and didn’t stop until they were inside the hall once more.

  “Do you think they saw us?” Colleen asked.

  “I don’t think so, but that kid sure messed up things,” Jennie said disgustedly. “It was just starting to get good.”

  “What do you suppose is coming along as planned?” Colleen asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jennie said, “but I wish I could figure it out.”

  “There you are.” Tommy rushed up to the two girls. “Come on. The judges are finished. Let’s see if we won a ribbon.”

  Jennie cast one last glance across the street before hurrying after the boys and Colleen. Checking up on Pietro would have to wait awhile longer.

  A red, second-place ribbon sat on the table in the hall on the girls’ tomatoes, and a red ribbon was on the boys’ sweet corn, as well.

  “Not bad for beginners,” Trudy said when she walked up behind them to join in the admiration.

  “Our tomatoes probably would have won….” Tommy stopped.

  Jennie looked at her brother. “What did you say?”

  “Never mind.” He grinned. “We did great.”

  Jennie grinned back. It was the first time in weeks that she didn’t feel like arguing with her brother. This time he made sense.

  CHAPTER 7

  Goats and Floats

  Jennie slammed the front apartment door after school one afternoon in September. She sniffed the smell of hot tomatoes.

  “Don’t slam the door!” Her mom’s voice came from the kitchen.

  “Sorry!” Jennie tossed her arithmetic book at a nearby chair and ran across the living room to the kitchen door.

  “Slow down,” Mama ordered from where she stood over a steaming pot at the stove. Her forehead glistened with sweat, and she pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jennie flopped in a chair at the kitchen table where a row of glass jars sat. Trudy stood at the table cutting up a big pile of tomatoes, one after another.

  “What are you doing?” Jennie asked.

  “What does it look like we’re doing? What are we doing every day? Canning these awful tomatoes, that’s what,” Trudy said.

  “I’m getting downright sick of the smell of tomatoes. Why do you keep canning them?” Jennie asked, more to tease her sister than because she wanted an answer.

  “Come winter, you’ll be glad enough to have these canned tomatoes,” Mama said tartly. “The food shortages make it harder all the time to find the things we like, and these vegetables will taste good in January.”

  Jennie looked over at the wooden shelves that Dad had put up in the corner of the crowded kitchen. Jars of bright yellow corn, orange carrots, deep-red tomatoes, and purple beets were lined up. She smelled the pickles that Mama was making in a big stone crock near the table. The tomatoes Trudy was slicing would soon be joining the others. It seemed like Jennie’s mom and older sister had been canning for weeks.

  “Our gardens did good,” Jennie said with satisfaction.

  “Almost too good,” Trudy said.

  Jennie grinned. The Victory gardens had produced bushels of vegetables. The corn and beets and carrots were done now, but the cucumbers and tomatoes kept coming. Everyone in the hotel had been well supplied with vegetables. Jennie had taken some tomatoes to Mr. Romano just yesterday. With Pietro to feed, Mr. Romano needed all the help he could get.

  Jennie had kept a close eye on Pietro since the contest. Although she hadn’t found out a single new thing about the plans the two men had mentioned in the drugstore, she wasn’t giving up. Any little bit of information might be a clue, so Jennie was staying alert.

  “Why are you so late?” Mama asked. “And where is Tommy?” She poured a glass of milk and placed it with a big slice of bread in front of Jennie.

  “Thanks,” Jennie replied. “He’s talking to Stan. I had an emergency Girl Scout meeting after school.”

  “Emergency?” Mama questioned.

  “Well, not exactly emergency,” Jennie admitted. “We wanted to start planning our float for the parade. We think the Boy Scouts are doing a float, too.” She took a big bite of bread and followed it with a gulp of milk.

  “What parade is that?” Trudy asked.

  “The parade for the third war loan drive.” Jennie shook her head at her sister’s ignorance. There had already been two war loan drives, and Jennie was looking forward to this one. For the other drives there had been rallies and parades and lots of excitement, and this one promised to be the same.

  “I see,” Trudy said. “So you’re making a float.”

  “It’s going to be a humdinger,” Jennie said before popping the last of her bread into her mouth.

  “No doubt the Boy Scout float will be a humdinger, too,” Trudy said.

  “Not as good as ours,” Jennie insisted.

  “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk,” Mama said. She lowered another canning jar into the kettle of hot water before turning to her youngest daughter. “It’s fine to build a float, but it’s not fine to spend all your time trying to outdo someone else. The purpose of the parade is to convince people to buy war bonds and stamps, not to dazzle them with a float.”

  “I know,” Jennie said, “but the boys—”

  “No buts about it,” Mama said firmly. “Before long, you and Colleen will be wanting to impress those boys instead of show them up.”

  “Not us,” Jennie said with a decisive shake of her head. She couldn’t imagine wanting to impress a boy. She liked Stan fine, and Tommy was a lot of fun when he wasn’t trying to win at something, but Jennie didn’t care a thing about impressing either one of them.

  The apartment front door burst open and then banged shut.

  “Don’t slam the door!” Mama called. The words were barely out of her mouth when Tommy ran into the kitchen.

  “You won’t believe how spectacular the Boy Scout float will be,” he announced to everyone before dropping into a chair besi
de Jennie.

  “You’re right,” Jennie said. “I won’t believe it.”

  “Jennie,” Mama warned.

  Jennie grinned. “So what will your float look like?”

  “I can’t tell you,” Tommy said. “It’s a secret, but it’ll be better than what you girls make, that’s for sure.”

  “Tommy,” Mama said sharply, “I’ve just been all through this with your sister. No more competition. Work together for a change.”

  “But, Mama,” Tommy said, “we can’t do that. The Boy Scouts want their own float.”

  “And so do the Girl Scouts,” Jennie added.

  “Well, fine, but I don’t want any arguing, or you two will be sitting out the parade just like the Victory garden contest. Understand?” Mama stared at them until both Jennie and Tommy nodded in agreement.

  “Speaking of Victory gardens,” Trudy said. “I just cut up the last tomato. Hallelujah!”

  Jennie went off to do her chores, but she thought the whole time about the parade. Maybe they couldn’t have an official contest, but at least the Girl Scouts could make the best float possible. They needed a good idea, and that wasn’t all. A float was usually on a wagon pulled by a tractor or truck. With gas and tire rationing, there weren’t many vehicles left to be used for floats. This was going to take some thought.

  Jennie couldn’t wait to get to school so the girls could huddle together and plan their float. Most of the girls in her class were in Girl Scouts, and the others liked to give their opinions. School was especially fun this year. Tommy and Stan were in the class behind Jennie, but Colleen was in the same class. Even better, Mrs. Hoffman had changed teaching positions from third to fourth grade, so Jennie had Mrs. Hoffman again. She was young and pretty, and she said learning should be fun. Jennie was sure that she and Colleen had the best teacher in the world.

  Mrs. Hoffman gave her class some time almost every day to work on projects related to the war effort. She said their work was just as important as what adults did and that the soldiers said so, too. Jennie thought Mrs. Hoffman should know since her husband was a pilot in the army air corps. Mr. Hoffman’s picture sat on Mrs. Hoffman’s desk next to her pencil cup. Last year he wrote two letters to their class, and his wife talked about him often.