Esther crinkled her eyebrows. Here was another example of the moon’s importance. According to Ma, hair should only be cut when the moon was “growing.” This would make the hair grow in thick and healthy. Lucky for Violet, the moon was waxing now. She got her haircut. Esther didn’t want a haircut, but Ma decided to trim her hair, too, since she was barbering.
Esther had to stand straight and still. She couldn’t fidget at all or Ma would scold. But sometimes the falling hairs tickled. It was impossible not to squirm a little. “Nu,” Ma said in exasperation, “how can I cut when you dance and jiggle?”
When the haircut was finally finished, Esther fled to her room. She was startled to find Violet there crying stormily into her pillow. “Vi! What’s wrong?” Esther hurried to her sister. “Are you hurt? Should I call Ma?”
“No!” Violet sobbed. “Don’t call anybody. I don’t want anybody to s-see me.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Esther demanded.
For answer, Violet slowly raised her pink-blotched face from the pillow.
At first all Esther could see were tears. She peered closer. “I don’t see—” Then she gasped. “What happened to your eyelashes?”
Violet’s face crumpled. “I c-cut them.”
Esther was astonished. “But why?”
“So they’ll g-grow back thicker and l-longer,” Violet explained between sobs. “Like my hair. But I didn’t know how aw-aw-awful I’d look . . .” She shook her head. “I should have known not to do it. It was a stupid thing to do after breaking a mirror this morning. I’ll probably be ugly for seven years!” Violet flung herself back into her pillow, sobbing even louder than before.
Esther patted Violet’s shoulder. She felt sorry for her sister, who did indeed look strange. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit smug, too. She had beautiful eyelashes. And they would be right where they belonged on the first day of school.
• • •
The next morning, Esther bounded out of bed. She shivered in the early-morning chill. The only heat in the house came from the stove in the kitchen and the fireplace in the parlor. Very little found its way upstairs. As fast as she could, Esther dressed in the favorite of her two school dresses—the red-and-green print. Then she threw on her coat and ran out to visit the outhouse and do her chores. Mickey was her prancing shadow. He slept under the porch but scrambled out the instant he heard her footsteps.
By the time Esther came back with the eggs, Ma was poking wood into the stove. Pa was back from the barn and was washing up at the sink.
“Good morning,” Esther chirped happily, setting the egg basket on the table.
“You are up early,” Pa said.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Esther confided. “I was too excited. I hope I get a nice teacher.” She crossed her fingers.
“Just behave and you will not have to worry if she is nice,” said Ma.
Esther sighed. Ma didn’t understand. She’d never gone to school. She’d learned how to read and write all on her own. She didn’t know that a nice teacher made learning easy, even fun. But a mean teacher made it scary and hard.
Esther ducked and dodged the laundry hanging from the clothesline in the kitchen. A storm had blown up the day before, and they’d had to bring the wash inside. Most of it had dried overnight, but some had not. The damp fabric made Esther’s skin crawl when it brushed against her neck.
The kitchen sink was the only sink in the old farmhouse. Violet found that a great hardship, but Esther didn’t mind. She thought it was fun to pump the handle until water spurted out. She splashed the icy water on her face and scrubbed her hands with the big caramel-colored bar of Fels-Naptha laundry soap. It didn’t smell good or feel soft like Ivory. But it cost much less, so Ma bought it for everyday use.
Esther scooted back upstairs and found Violet eyeing herself in the mirror. Her lower lip was thrust out, but she wasn’t crying. When she heard Esther, she turned to her with a grim but determined look on her face.
“That hair ribbon is real pretty,” Esther said to cheer her.
Violet said, “Thanks.” Then she clumped down the stairs.
Esther quickly made her side of the bed. Then she set Margaret on top of her pillow. “I go to school today, Margaret,” she said breathlessly. “I wish you could come, too. But I’ll tell you all about it when I come home. Promise.” She blew the doll a kiss and started downstairs, but first she patted her pocket. She wanted to make sure the quarter Julia had given her was still safe inside. That first day they would ride to and from town with Pa. He would enroll them in school in the morning. And after school he would take them to the store to buy Violet new shoes. While they were there, Esther planned to buy stamps. Then she could write her first letter to Julia. She could tell her all about Mickey, and Bruno, and school.
“Why can’t we take the buggy?” Esther asked as she and Violet settled themselves on the hard wooden floor in the back of the wagon.
“I need the wagon to carry the seed I will buy in town,” Pa explained.
Esther nodded. All week Pa had been plowing the empty fields, preparing the soil. Now it was time to begin planting.
Esther had been surprised when she’d first seen the school on Sunday. It was so much smaller than her school in Chicago! It looked more like a house than an elementary school. When she went inside that first morning, she was even more surprised.
A long hallway stretched straight ahead from the entrance. It had hooks on both sides for hanging coats and hats. At the end of the hallway there were two doors. The one on the left led to the classroom for grades one through four. The one on the right was for grades five through eight. Just two classrooms in the whole school!
Esther’s teacher was Miss Larson. She had thick blond braids wrapped like a crown on top of her head. Her eyes were very blue and her cheeks were very pink. Esther thought she looked just like the princess in a fairy tale.
When Pa took Violet to the room across the hall, Miss Larson introduced Esther to the class. “This is Esther Vogel, children. Let’s all make her feel welcome.”
Esther smiled shyly as two dozen faces stared at her. But one dimpled grin stood out from the rest. Bethany! Esther felt herself grinning back, shyness forgotten. When Miss Larson told her to take the desk just behind her friend, Esther’s joy was complete.
From her seat, Esther looked at the room more closely. Many things were the same as in her city school. There were the same rows of wooden desks that connected front to back. There was the same flag mounted in the corner. There were the same pictures of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington on the wall. And there was the same blackboard behind the teacher’s desk—although this one was farther away from Esther’s desk, and not so easy to see.
But some things were very different. The coal stove at the front of the room was one. The water pail and dipper in the back was another. And the outhouses Esther had glimpsed outside were another. Still, it wasn’t long before Esther felt at home. School—any school—was a good place to be.
Esther discovered that Miss Larson taught reading and arithmetic in the morning. One by one she called each grade to the front of the room. The children sat on the extra seats that stuck out in front of the first desk in each row. If there were more than four students in a class, the biggest boys would have to stand, because there were only four rows of desks—one for each grade. After Miss Larson taught them a lesson, she sent the students back to their seats to work on an assignment. Then the next grade went up.
Esther watched in wonder. In the city, Miss Monksburg had only one grade to teach. She had time to grade papers and prepare lessons when her students were working. But Miss Larson was teaching nearly all the time.
At lunch, Bethany introduced Esther to the other fourth-graders. Mary Knutson had beautiful long blond hair and stuttered. Pamela Shaughnessy had more freckles than anyone Esther had ever seen. And the Niels
on twins, Wesley and Thomas, looked so exactly alike, Esther could hardly keep from staring.
There was no lunchroom. At noon everyone put away their books and took out the lunches they’d brought from home. They ate right at their desks. When they were finished, they hurried out to play in the school yard. Bethany had a length of clothesline the girls used as a jump rope. Together they chanted:
“Buster Brown, come to town,
Buster Brown, turn around,
Buster Brown, touch the ground,
Buster Brown, get out of town!”
It was the same jump rope song Esther and Shirley had jumped to in Chicago! When it was her turn, Esther hopped into the turning rope. In time to the song she turned around and touched the ground. Then she skipped safely out of the rope again. Jumping felt good after sitting all morning. But when Miss Larson came out and rang her handbell, Esther was quick to join the stampede up the school steps. She could feel the smile stretching across her face.
After school, Pa drove Esther and Violet to the Heggersmiths’ general store. When they left, Violet was wearing her new shoes. Esther was carrying the old pair wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. They were hers now, to wear when her shoes became tight. And even though it was nearly the end of the school year, both girls had brand-new Big Chief writing tablets and pencils. Esther climbed carefully into the back of the buggy, her precious stamps safely tucked in her pocket.
At the farm, Walter ran out of the house to meet the buggy. He hoisted himself up to the front seat to ride with Pa to the barn. Esther jumped down and raced into the farmhouse. She was eager to tell Ma all about the new school.
“The teacher reads to us at the end of each day,” Esther reported excitedly. “The book she’s reading now is about a doll that’s one hundred years old!”
Ma wrinkled her nose. “A foolish story,” she declared.
“No, Ma, really! It’s a wonderful story,” Esther insisted.
But Ma had tired of the topic. “Let me see your shoes,” she said to Violet.
Violet pranced forward to show them off in all their shiny newness. Ma leaned over to press on Violet’s toe with her thumb. She grunted her approval. “There is room to grow,” she said.
Ma had been sewing at her machine. Now she stood up and shook out the curtains she’d made. They were white with red roses splashed gaily over them. Luckily, Ma’s sewing machine didn’t need electricity to work, just Ma’s foot rocking back and forth on its treadle. The movement of the treadle made the machine whir and hum. It made the needle dart up and down, flashing in and out of the fabric.
“The curtains are pretty,” Violet said, touching a hem.
Ma sighed. “Maybe they will brighten the kitchen a little.” She started to pull a chair away from the table but stopped suddenly. “Are those shoes on the table?” she asked Esther. “You know that is bad luck!”
Esther snatched the bundle from the table. “I’m sorry, Ma. I forgot. I was so excited about school . . .” Her voice dwindled away. She knew no excuse would be good enough. Not when it came to bad luck. She hung her head.
Ma knocked on the table loudly one, two, three times. Sometimes knocking on wood could undo a curse, and three was a powerful number. “What good is school if you do not learn what is important?” Ma asked. With a sigh she whisked past Esther. The chair squealed as she shoved it across the floor to the kitchen window, where she climbed onto it.
Ma took down the curtain rod that sat on two fat nails on either side of the window. She poked it through the hem at the top of the curtains. Then she stretched to set the rod back on its perch.
Esther and Violet stood back and watched. Esther hoped the pretty curtains would cheer up Ma enough so she would forgive Esther for the bad luck that might be coming. But when the curtains were barely—beautifully—in place, Ma lost her balance.
Frozen in horror, Esther watched as Ma teetered on the chair, arms waving wildly. She grabbed desperately for something to stop herself from falling. But all she caught hold of were the curtains. The rod came loose. For a moment the curtains were like a brave flag Ma was waving. Then she screamed.
Esther blinked. She gasped. Her feet finally moved. She ran with Violet to help Ma. But they were too late. Ma crashed to the floor with the curtains still clutched in her hand.
6 Shame on Esther
April 25, 1930
Dear Julia,
A lot has happened since we arrived in Wisconsin. Most of it has been good. I have a dog named Mickey. I get to ride Bruno the workhorse. I have a best friend named Bethany. And my teacher, Miss Larson, is very nice. She is reading us a book about a doll named Hitty. It is so exciting! Even the boys like it.
But a terrible thing happened to Ma last week. She fell and hurt her ankle. It swelled up so bad, Pa thought it was broken. He took Ma to the doctor even though Ma said it was just a sprain. Turns out she was right. Now she is mad they had to pay the doctor. But it is a very bad sprain. Ma still cannot walk on it. Vi stays home from school to take care of Ma and Walter. Even though I would miss school, I wish I could stay home instead of Vi. I put shoes on the table. That is why Ma fell. I feel just awful.
Yesterday was my birthday and Vi tried to make me a cake. She put too much wood in the stove and the cake got all black. We gave it to the pigs. I didn’t have a cake, so I couldn’t make a birthday wish. Thanks for the pretty hair ribbons you sent. I am wearing them to school today for luck. We have a spelling bee. I want to win like I did in Chicago. The winner gets a blue ribbon here. I miss you.
Love,
Esther
Esther read her letter one last time as she walked down the rutted lane to the road. Then she folded it and slipped it into a stamped envelope with Julia’s name and address in Esther’s best handwriting on the front. She popped it into the battered mailbox and stood up the chipped red flag. There. Now the postman would know to stop and take her letter.
Esther bent down to pat Mickey. “Good-bye, boy. You go back and watch the house now. I’ll see you after school. Go on, go home.” Mickey obediently turned and trotted back up the lane. Esther watched him go. Then she set out for school.
It was a long walk, especially without Violet to talk to. Sometimes Esther met other farm children along the way. But today she didn’t see anyone on the gravel road ahead, so she decided to play her favorite game—pretend. She pretended the farmhouse was all fixed up. Outside it was painted dazzling white. The roof was new, with no ugly tar paper patches. Green shutters framed every shining window. Pots of pink geraniums and white begonias blossomed beside the door and in window boxes.
Inside, the walls were covered with pretty wallpapers—blue and yellow for the parlor, red and white for the kitchen. Crisp white curtains hung at the parlor windows. The kitchen table was covered with a white linen cloth—just like Shirley’s had been—instead of red-checkered oilcloth. There was electricity and gleaming new linoleum floors. There was even a beautiful carpet in the parlor, with blue and yellow flowers all over it. Sometimes Esther pretended different colors, and sometimes she imagined a new sofa and chairs. But one thing that never changed was Ma. Esther always pretended that Ma was rocking in the pretty parlor, listening to the radio. Then Ma would see Esther. She would smile and open her arms to her . . .
A car horn beeped behind Esther. She yelped and whirled around to see her teacher parked on the side of the road. “Jump in,” Miss Larson invited.
Esther could hardly believe it. Ride to school with her teacher? Such a wondrous event would never happen in Chicago. “Thank you!” she said, hopping into the automobile.
“You have a long walk,” Miss Larson observed as she drove on.
Esther smiled shyly. “I don’t mind. I like school.”
Her teacher smiled back at her. “I can tell that by the way you listen in class, and by the careful work you do.”
Esther’s ear
s burned at this unexpected praise.
“I was wondering,” Miss Larson continued, “if you might be interested in doing some teaching.”
Esther was stunned. “Me?” She could hardly believe it. To be a teacher someday had long been her secret dream. But it had seemed far away and impossible. Could she really be a teacher now?
“I could use someone to help with the youngest children,” Miss Larson said, shifting her gaze from the road to Esther for a moment. “Would you like to do that?”
Esther sucked in her breath. “Yes. I would like to very much!”
“You can begin on Monday,” her teacher promised.
Somehow Esther contained her excitement until they reached the school. But the moment she got out of the car, she took a joyful leap into the air. She was going to teach! Esther wanted to share her news with Bethany, but Bethany wasn’t in the school yard yet. She still hadn’t arrived when the bell rang.
That’s when Esther knew she was in trouble.
On Fridays they had an arithmetic test. Miss Larson wrote all the problems on the blackboard. But Esther couldn’t see the board well from her seat. Last week Bethany had copied the problems for her before she started her own work. But Bethany was absent.
Esther entered the little schoolhouse with a sinking heart. She slid behind her desk and looked desperately at the blurry white marks on the blackboard. But they were impossible to read.
Miss Larson led the class in the Pledge of Allegiance and then told them to begin their tests.
Esther’s hands began to sweat. Everyone else was hard at work copying problems. Esther squinted and squinted, but the chalk marks on the board remained fuzzy white squiggles. They hardly looked like numbers at all. The minute hand of the clock on the wall had never clicked so loudly before. One minute after another was slipping away. Soon Miss Larson would say “pencils down, class” and collect their papers. What would she think when she saw Esther’s blank sheet? Tears prickled her eyes. There had to be something she could do!
What the Moon Said Page 5