by Lois Lenski
“It’s hot summer now,” said Papa.
“But I thought they had snow up north,” insisted Joe Bob.
“Not till winter, boy.” They all laughed.
Papa stopped to see the County Agent who sent him out to the Simpson Company, a cannery and packing house three miles from town. Mama got a job peeling tomatoes and Papa a general job in the plant. They were to live in a dormitory camp owned by the company. Long barracks were divided into two-room apartments, which were furnished with two beds, a bureau, table, stove, and boxes for chairs. Other families from Tennessee and West Virginia were their neighbors. Mrs. Tyler from the end apartment, came in to greet them and get acquainted.
Judy inquired for the Holloways, but no one had heard of them. There were no other children in camp, but Judy learned that the school bus passed by every day.
Eagerly Judy waited for the opening of school.
A truck called at the camp before six every morning to take Mama and Papa and the other workers to the plant, so Judy had everything to do at home. She washed the children’s clothes and borrowed Mrs. Tyler’s iron, to iron them. She was glad when Mrs. Tyler, who was not working, offered to keep Lonnie during school hours.
Labor Day passed and the first day of school came.
Judy dressed the children, washed them and combed their hair, and gave them breakfast. Then she staked the goat out in a bushy field. The children stood out by the side of the road for half an hour before the bus came along.
That afternoon, Judy came running in from the bus, eager to tell Mama all about the first day of school. But the dormitory was bleak and empty. Mama was at the plant and had to work until six. There was supper to get.
Judy went over to Mrs. Tyler’s. Little Lonnie met her at the door, crying hard.
“I got bad news for you,” said Mrs. Tyler. “Your mother’s been taken to the hospital. She got sick at the plant. She should never have started working. She won’t be home for a few days.”
Judy’s world suddenly began to whirl. School! School! Only one day, and now already it was over. She sat down on the bed, sick at heart. She couldn’t expect Mrs. Tyler to keep Lonnie every day. She would have to stay home and look after him. She would keep Cora Jane home too, like the teacher said, until she got over her cold. She would have to cook all the meals. She dragged Lonnie back to the dormitory.
“How was school?” asked Papa when he came.
“I got a real nice teacher, Miss Billings,” said Judy. “In our class we can go just as fast as we’re able to. I’ll bring my books home and study here till Mama gets well again.”
“Too bad, honey,” said Papa. “Seems like there’s always somethin’ to keep you outa school.”
“Papa, you got cash money for the doctor and medicines?” asked Judy.
“Now, sugarpie, don’t you worry,” laughed Papa. “Don’t you recollect that little nest-egg in Mama’s stockin’? And here we are in a dry house with a floor and everything. Ain’t we the lucky ones?”
“Papa, what’ll we do when it snows?” asked Judy.
“Make snowballs and throw ’em like cotton,” laughed Joe Bob.
“Papa,” Judy went on, “if it gits cold, I’ll have to git a new coat to wear to school, and some stockin’s.”
“Me too,” said Joe Bob.
“Me too,” echoed Cora Jane and Lonnie.
“Lucky I got a good job,” said Papa. “Beeg money, like Mrs. Torresina used to say. Enough to pay for everything!”
“Can we start payin’ for our farm?” asked Judy. “Is it beeg enough for that?”
“Honey, when this job’s over, how would you like to go south again and hunt for that little farm?”
“Oh Papa!” Judy threw her arms around him. “Oh Papa!” She couldn’t find any other words to say.
It seemed very lonely with Mama away. Papa bought groceries and Judy cooked the meals as well as she could. Mrs. Tyler sometimes sent over an appetizing dish to help out, and on the days when she offered to keep Lonnie, Judy went to school.
It was the strangest school that Judy had ever been in, and after a few days, she thought it was the nicest. She and Joe Bob and Cora Jane were all in the same class—a special class for migrant children, who ranged in age from six to thirteen. Some as old as ten or eleven had never been in school before. There were Southern Negro, Japanese-American, and mountain children from Tennessee and West Virginia, besides New Jersey children, some of foreign descent. Each child was allowed to advance at his own pace until he was ready to be placed in the regular grades.
One day in the playground, a little colored girl had a fall and the other children crowded round. Judy ran to see. The girl was not hurt, but her nose was bleeding badly.
“Look! Blood!” cried the children. “It makes me sick to see blood,” said one. “I’m scared, I wouldn’t touch her,” said another.
“Don’t be silly,” said Judy. “I’m not afraid of blood. I’m going to be a nurse.”
“Are you?” asked the little girl. “So’m I.”
Judy cleared a place on the steps and asked the girl to lie down. She bunched her sweater up under her neck, to tip her head back. Judy wished she could remember what the First Aid booklet said to do for nosebleed. “Wisht I had my First Aid kit,” she said. “We’ll have to have water and a cloth.”
“Miiko’s bringing them,” cried the children.
“Here they are.” A little Japanese-American girl with short bobbed hair and slanting eyes brought a basin of water and held it out. A towel hung over her arm.
“Thank you, Miiko,” said Judy.
Judy washed the blood off the girl’s face, then wrung the towel out of water and laid it across her forehead. It was not long before she was able to be on her feet again.
“You feel-a better?” asked Rosa Maria, a little Italian girl who looked and spoke like Angelina.
“Good as new,” said the colored girl, getting to her feet.
Judy looked at her more closely. “Haven’t I seen you before …? Why, you’re the girl who fanned that boy who fell on the hoe. Let’s see, that was back in …”
“South Carolina,” added the girl. “I’m Coreena May Dickson.”
“Oh, Coreena May, now I remember. How did you get up here?” asked Judy.
“Our crew leader brought us to pick beans,” said Coreena May. “We been here since July. I picked beans all summer. I can pick twenty hampers a day.”
“I never picked more than fifteen,” confessed Judy. “Where do you live, Coreena May?”
“At Oak Tree Camp,” said the girl, “about six miles from here. We’re goin’ back to Florida soon. Are you?”
Judy frowned. “Not yet. I like school, I want to stay in school …”
“I watched the way you bandaged that boy’s head,” said Coreena May. “That gave me the idea of being a nurse too. So I thought I better come to school every chance I git. I ain’t forgot the school in the box-car …”
“It was better than no school at all,” laughed Judy.
It was Coreena May who told Miss Billings about it. So Judy brought her old worn Geography to school the next day and all the children looked at the maps and found the places where their families had come from.
Then Miss Billings asked Judy to tell the class about her travels.
Judy felt very shy until she realized she had something to say that the children wanted to hear. She stood up in front of the class and talked about her travels from Alabama to New Jersey. She showed the class all the places she had been on the map and mentioned the crops raised there. She ended up by telling about the little farm her father was going to get.
All the children clapped and Miss Billings said, “You may have missed a good bit of school, Judy, but you have gained a good background of information from your travel and work experiences.” She called upon the children for comments.
“I liked the things Judy told us,” said Ramon, a Mexican boy.
“I am glad that Judy is i
n our class,” said Miiko.
“Judy was my friend in South Carolina,” said Coreena May, “and now she is my friend in New Jersey.”
“We are all glad that Judy is in our class, aren’t we, children?” said Miss Billings.
“Yes, yes,” answered the children.
Nothing so important had ever happened to Judy before. She had had no praise in her life. She had never been publicly praised in school. She could hardly wait to get home to tell Mama about it. The children had not called her names or said she was dirty or made fun of her clothes. They were glad to have her in their class. She had contributed something to the group. When she got off the bus, she ran all the way to the dormitory and … then she remembered. Mama was not there. Mama was still sick at the hospital.
She stopped at the Tylers’ for Lonnie, but neither he nor Mrs. Tyler was there. So she and Joe Bob and Cora Jane played with Barney for a while. Judy put off going home as long as possible, but at last she said, “I must go start supper.” As she ran across the yard, with the children at her heels, she heard voices talking and laughing. When she opened the door, a surprise met her eyes.
The first thing she saw was Mama, back again from the hospital, sitting up in bed. Papa was there too, and Mrs. Tyler had supper started on the stove. A pot of beef stew was cooking. The four children stood still and looked. Mama was well again, and there was the new baby in her arms.
“Oh Mama! Oh Mama!” they cried.
“Come and see your new little sister,” said Mama. “I’ve named her Jersiana.” They all crowded round.
And then Judy saw the Holloways—Tessie and Gwyn and their baby and their parents. She would have known Tessie anywhere. The next minute she was in Tessie’s arms, and everybody was talking at once. The Holloways had been working for another New Jersey grower, but had come to the Simpson Company and had now moved into an apartment at the other end of the same dormitory. The Holloways were to be neighbors again.
After that, Tessie and Gwyn went on the same bus to school every morning, and were in the same class with the Drummond children.
Judy told all the children at school about the new baby, and one day Miss Billings brought a group of them out to see her. She brought Miiko from California and Ramon from Mexico and Coreena May from South Carolina and Rosa Maria from Philadelphia and Charles from Texas and Shirley from West Virginia and Jeanette from Tennessee.
As Mama grew stronger, she found that working in the plant were people of different races and from different localities in this country. A group of women came to see her and brought a complete outfit of clothes and bedding for the new baby. It made Mama so happy she cried. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She was surprised to learn that she had so many friends.
One Saturday afternoon, Judy went to town with Papa. After doing their shopping, Papa took Judy to a carnival being held in the baseball park and bought her a double ice-cream cone. They looked at the bingo counters, shooting galleries and wheels of chance, then had a ride on the Ferris wheel. When they got off, there in front of them they saw a tent with the sign: MADAME ROSIE—PALM READINGS—SPEAKS SEVEN LANGUAGES, and there was Madame Rosie herself. She grabbed hold of Papa’s arm.
“You made any money, mister?” she demanded. “You gettin’ that house for this little girl? You been feedin’ her up a little better?”
Papa explained about his good job and the new second-hand car he was going to get to take the place of the jalopy.
“Don’t spend your money on a car, save it for that house,” said the fortune-teller.
“Maybe I better,” said Papa thoughtfully.
“Did I stiffen your backbone for you?” asked Madame Rosie, laughing.
“You shore did,” laughed Papa. “You near about scared the life outa me. But why?”
“I’ll tell you a secret,” said Madame Rosie. “I was afraid Judy’s fortune would never come true. We fortune-tellers just say nice things to people—whatever they want to hear. Sometimes maybe it helps ’em, I don’t know. Sometimes we just say anything to get their money—we got to live, too. I just wanted your girl to have a decent home to live in. I wanted it for her, bad, so I tried to——”
“You helped,” said Papa. “We’re startin’ to Florida soon, and we’re aimin’ to git us a farm and a house.”
“And a mule and a cow and a cat,” added Judy. “Joe Bob’s got his dog.”
Madame Rosie said, “Wait a minute,” and disappeared inside her tent. When she came out, she brought a string of bright blue glass beads—the same color as Pinky Jenkins’ blue bottle—and dropped them around Judy’s neck. Then she bent down and kissed her on each cheek.
“Good luck!” she said softly. “And everything that goes with it—health, happiness and prosperity.”
“What a woman!” said Papa, as they walked away. “A mountain of a woman.”
“She was the first friend I made after I left Plumtree Creek,” said Judy.
“And a real one too,” said Papa.
The tomato and lima bean season lasted well into October, but it was November before the doctor said Mama was strong enough to travel. Papa decided to take Madame Rosie’s advice and not spend money on another car, because he would need a truck in Florida if he bought a farm. He got out the old jalopy and began to collect new “parts” for it, to get it in shape for the long trip south.
“The ducks are going,” laughed Papa. “Time for us to start.”
“But Papa,” said Joe Bob, “I haven’t seen snow. I thought we came up north to see snow.”
“Oh Papa,” cried Judy, “I’m finishing the Fourth Reader. Soon I can go into the regular Fifth Grade, Miss Billings says. How can I leave Rosa Maria and Tessie and Shirley and Miiko and Coreena May?”
“You-all jest want to stay up north and be Yankees, I see that!” teased Papa.
All the neighbors in the dormitory came in the night before the Drummonds left. They visited and talked and played games, and there were refreshments for all.
The next morning Papa routed the family out early. It was just daylight and the sky looked dark and heavy when they climbed into the old jalopy. Joe Bob brought Barney on a leash and Papa went to bring Missy from her shed in the yard behind the dormitory.
“Looky here,” he called out. “We’ve got two extra passengers to take along with us.”
The children went around behind the car. There stood two wobbly kids, one black and one white. Missy was bleating proudly as she nuzzled them. Papa loaded them carefully into the trailer.
“Oh Papa! Two little baby goats!” cried Judy. “I must take them to school to show to our class. Charles brought his baby alligator and Rosa Maria brought her kitten and Ramon his pet rabbit …”
“You can take ’em to school in Florida, honey,” said Papa, climbing into the front seat. “We’re off just in time. Look!”
The air was suddenly filled with a flurry of white. Judy and Joe Bob danced about, their hands uplifted to the sky.
“Snow!” they cried happily. “Snow!”
CHAPTER XIV
Journey’s End
“OH PAPA, DO WE have to stand up to ride?” inquired Judy.
“No, sugarpie, no,” said Papa. “You’ve done all the truck-standin’ and truck-fallin’ you’re goin’ to do. The man’s giving us an old auto seat to put in the back for you young uns to ride on. Lonnie and the baby will stay in front with Mama and me.”
They had started out in the old jalopy, but got only as far as Stony Creek, Virginia, when the car broke down. Papa went to a second-hand auto place, turned it in and bought a secondhand truck. The two-wheeled trailer, now on its last legs, was abandoned, and the goats were put into the truck. There wasn’t much furniture left. The bureau, table, bed and sewing-machine had gone long ago. Only the kerosene stove, the tent, the mattress and quilts, and cartons of clothing and cooking utensils remained.
It was fun riding on the auto seat in the back of the truck. Joe Bob held Barney and the t
wo girls played with the baby goats.
One night in South Carolina it was chilly and cold, so they stopped at a Tourist Camp instead of putting up the tent. They took two cabins and all slept in beds. The manager had a restaurant by the roadside and they ate breakfast there. While they ate, he stood by their table and told Papa how he planned to improve and expand his Tourist Camp.
“I’m junking all these cabins I got now,” he said, “and rebuilding. The new cabins will be DeLuxe—the last word in roadside comfort—heat, light, Beauty-Sleep mattresses, hot and cold showers, everything.”
“Junkin’ all these cabins, eh?” asked Papa.
“We had a big wind last week,” said the manager, “and one of ’em blew over. They’re not made so good—they were just temporary, till I built up my trade.”
Papa got up from the breakfast table and went outside with the man. Mama and the children waited a long time for him to come back. When he did, his face was beaming.
“We’re goin’ to stay here another night and sleep in beds again,” he said, “free of charge. The young uns can play around and Calla, you and the baby can get a good rest.”
“Why, Papa, why?” cried Judy and the children. “I’ve got us a house,” said Papa.
“A house? A house!” The children all shouted at once with the wonder of the news. Mama smiled quietly. Even the baby cooed.
“You’re teasing, Papa,” said Joe Bob.
“Has it got a floor and four walls and a roof to keep the rain off?” asked Judy.
“Has it got windows and a door and a chimney?” asked Joe Bob.
“All but the chimney,” said Papa, chuckling.
“Where did you get it, Papa?” asked Joe Bob.
“Are we going to stay here and live in it?” asked Judy.
“No,” said Papa. “It’ll be a house-on-wheels, somethin’ like the Darnells’ house-trailer. I’ve bought that cabin that blew over. The manager sold it to me for a song.”
Papa worked all that day and part of the next. With the manager’s help, the tourist cabin was mounted on the body of the truck and made secure. It had a window on one side and a window and door on the other. Papa built folding steps for the door and a porch in back for the goats. He built platforms inside the cabin for sleeping-bunks. Mama and Judy moved the stove and other things in. In front of the door they put the piece of Brussels carpet with roses on it.