It took two Coca-Colas before she felt right with the world again.
Chapter Twenty-One
The car was uncomfortably silent as Mrs. Larousse drove Shoji and Max back to the house. Mrs. Larousse didn’t speak because she had a personal policy against berating her daughter in front of people, although this policy went unenforced quite often. Still, when she could, she attempted to maintain it for the sake of Good Motherhood.
Max, meanwhile, was mute because she was still in shock from the initial confrontation that had happened outside the PX. Her mother and Shoji, together, had marched up to her as she strolled, sipping her soda. Her mother had grabbed her by the arm and briefly violated policy by snapping about how Max should not have gone off by herself and most certainly should have let Shoji know where she was going. The mixture of embarrassment and mortification, seasoned with a hint of betrayal, was enough to close her palate and her mouth for a long time.
Shoji, last of all, held his tongue because . . .
Well, actually, Shoji had no reason to hold his tongue. So he decided to break the silence.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I was worried about you. Me and Felix both were. We didn’t know where you went.”
Mrs. Larousse instinctively turned to glare at Max, then remembered she was driving and returned her gaze to the road. “You two were with Felix? The prisoner?”
“He’s helping us with the show,” Max muttered while attempting to finally learn how to shoot lasers from her eyes at Shoji.
“Ugh, this show,” Mrs. Larousse said. “If I’d known how much trouble it was going to cause, and the expenses for the equipment, and all the time that you should be working on schoolwork but you aren’t, I never would have agreed to it.”
“But you did,” Max said. “And you’re the one who always says ‘If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.’ So pardon me for trying to live up to the unreasonable standards you’ve established.”
“I wouldn’t mind so much if you’d apply those same standards to some other areas of your life,” her mother snapped back. “Like your schoolwork. Or house cleaning. Or any other chores around the house.”
Shoji suddenly remembered why he’d thought it best to remain quiet.
Max, on the other hand, let out a loud groan and threw her head back onto the seat of the car. “Mom! This isn’t about that.”
They turned the corner to go down the road to their house.
“What on earth?” Mrs. Larousse said.
Max leaned forward to see what she was baffled by. “Wait, is that—?”
It was, in fact, exactly what it looked like. A Jeep was parked outside their house, hood up, with smoke billowing out of the engine. Once they got closer, they discovered the location of the driver. He was sitting on their porch, feet up on the railing, enjoying a Pall Mall while he waited.
Mrs. Larousse parked and Max and Shoji jumped out.
“Gil?” Max called. “What are you doing here?”
Gil jumped up, dropped the Pall Mall, and ground it out with his boot. “I was in the neighborhood when Old Faithful over there decided to act more Old than Faithful. Hoped you folks would be back soon so I could call up the boys in the motor club and maybe get a ride back to base.”
Mrs. Larousse sighed. “Of course. Come on in and you can use our phone. Would you like something to drink?”
“Still on duty, ma’am,” he said.
“I am aware. You’re also underage, Private. I meant water or milk.”
“Oh, right. You know, I could really enjoy a tall glass of milk. Haven’t had that in years.” He stepped behind Mrs. Larousse as she opened the door.
Houdini darted outside.
Max pounced, but Gil scooped Houdini up into the air. “Hey, it’s that long bunny.”
“Ferret,” Max said.
Gil laughed. “Right, ferret.”
Gil let Houdini crawl all over his head and arms as he called the motor club and arranged for someone to come pick him up. He continued to play with the ferret while he downed the cold glass of milk, and also while he ate the sandwich that Mrs. Larousse decided he needed, since he would probably miss dinner. When Houdini grabbed the last quarter of his sandwich and ran away with it, Max finally decided it was time to incarcerate her pet.
When she came back into the room, she was horrified to find that, once again, Shoji had decided to open his big mouth.
“No, you gotta see it to believe it. Spookiest thing in the world,” Shoji said.
“A haunted storm cellar? Sounds pretty neat, if you ask me,” Gil said as he stood. “Let’s go look.”
Max got between them and the door. “Let’s not. I’d hate for you to miss your ride.”
“Those boys in the motor club couldn’t move fast if they tried. I’ve got plenty of time.” He and Shoji stepped around her and headed outside.
Max followed them, because if she couldn’t stop him from seeing it, she’d at least prefer to be the tour guide.
Since the sun was inching its way down toward the horizon, it was darker at the bottom of the creaky stairs than it had appeared to be at the top.
“My flashlight’s broken, sorry,” Max said. “I guess we’ll have to see this another time.”
Gil lit a couple of matches and held them out in front of him.
“Or that, of course,” Max said.
He grinned as he walked around the room, sidestepping the pools of still water along the way. He stopped in front of the most recent addition to the paintings and shook his head. “Wow, this is definitely spooky.” He turned to look at her. “I’m surprised the major hasn’t installed a lock or something.”
She looked down at the ground. “He probably would if I told him about it.”
He laughed. “Oh, you sneaky little thing. Although, this is a pretty dangerous secret to be keeping.”
She shrugged. “If he locks it, then I can’t get in whenever I want.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point of locks.” He dropped the matches when the flame touched his finger. He ground them out and then lit two more.
“You should hear what Lola says about all this,” Shoji said.
The fact that Lola had a strong opinion about the storm cellar was news to Max. “What does she say?”
“She thinks it’s what you get for working with Felix.”
“What?” Max couldn’t believe Lola would say such a thing behind her back. Speaking of that direction, Gil dropped the lit matches into a puddle behind her.
“What did you say?” he asked. “Working with Felix?”
Max flinched. She’d hoped that wouldn’t come up. “Just for the show.”
“For the show? The show?” Gil struck two more matches and used the light from them to add shadows to his face. “You’re working with a Nazi?”
“My dad knows. He’s fine with it.” She didn’t look at Shoji because she knew the look on his face would betray her.
“And here I thought he was a smart man.”
“He is,” Max shot back.
“Smart people don’t do stupid things.”
“Funny,” Shoji said. “That’s what Lola said, too.”
Gil grunted. “See? This Lola girl knows what’s going on.”
“She does? Really?” Max silently hoped his fingers got burned by the matches.
“Ouch!” he yelped and flung them across the room into a puddle. He sucked on his fingers for a second before lighting one more match. “Yeah, she does. Felix is a shady character. I probably trust him less than any other prisoner.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Max said. “Did you know he used to live in America? He’s different from the others.”
“I did know that, Half-Pint,” Gil said. “Do you know why he went back to Germany? I mean, since you know so much more than me.”
She paused. “No, I guess I don’t.”
“That’s what I thought.” Gil glanced at the match, blew it out, and lit the last one
from his matchbook. “He got arrested for being a Nazi sympathizer. In New York City. He and some other Krauts were plotting together in a German bar on how to lead an uprising here in the States.”
“That’s not true,” she said, even though she had no reason to believe herself.
“It sure is. They stuck him into an internment camp up in Idaho, where he stayed until they needed to trade somebody with Germany for some American POWs. So they exchanged him for the Americans and everybody was happy. And as soon as he got home, he showed his true colors and joined the army. But then, like an idiot, he got captured in Africa.”
“Seriously?” Shoji said.
Gil nodded. “Felix is a lying Nazi who’ll say anything to anyone to get what he wants.”
Max felt lead in her stomach. She tried to convince herself that Gil was wrong, that Felix wasn’t the villain. But Felix was a Nazi. The cards were already stacked against him. “Then why does he want to help me?” she asked.
The match went out.
“I don’t know,” Gil said, the darkness around them adding to the ominous tone of his voice. “But if you’re buying his story like this, then he’s already got you where he wants you.”
“Whoa,” Shoji said. “What should we do?”
Max spoke before Gil had a chance to say what she knew he was about to say. “The show must go on. That’s what we do.”
“I’m all for committing to a performance,” Gil said. “But I don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in danger.”
Max tried to make her voice sound as brave and strong as she could. One of the hardest illusions she’d ever had to do. “I’m putting on a show on a base with thousands of GIs, fully armed and ready to take out as many Nazis as show up. I’m pretty sure we’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know—”
“Plus you’ll be there, right?”
Gil didn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, I’ll be there, but that doesn’t mean nothing will happen.”
“Okay, what if you’re up on the stage? Would that make you feel better?”
“Sure, I guess, but why would I go up on the stage?”
Max had only just come up with the idea, but she already felt like it was part of the original plan. “I need music for my show. Why don’t you join me onstage and play the piano? It’ll make everything run smoothly, plus you can keep an eye on all the Nazis.”
Even in the ever-growing darkness, she could sense his eye lighting up. “Really? You want me to play like a vaudeville musician?”
“Yes? Is that a good thing?”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s amazing! It’s a dream come true, are you kidding?”
“I mean, we’ll have to rehearse a few times with you. And we only have a week.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, I’m a fast learner,” Gil said, then he let out a whoop and a holler. “It’s almost worth it that you’re cavorting with Nazis.”
“Private!” Mrs. Larousse called down from the top of the stairs. “I believe your ride is here.”
“Coming right up,” he yelled back.
Max grabbed his arm. “Please don’t tell any of the stuff about Felix to my mom. She’s already second-guessing the whole show.”
“Hey, no worries, I’m the king of secrets.” Gil bounded up the stairs and offered Mrs. Larousse his arm as an escort. “Madame, I cannot thank you enough for the milk and sandwich,” he said as he walked her back over to the house.
Shoji went over and sat on the stairs. “Jeez, Max. What have we gotten into?”
Max sighed and sat next to him. “A lot more than we expected, that’s for sure. But, no worries, after next week we can kiss our Nazi problems good-bye.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I should hire a secretary.”
—Max’s Diary, Thursday, March 23, 1944
Mrs. Conrad was busy droning through the history lesson, as she had been for the past fifteen minutes, and thus paid no heed to any of the activity that was taking place in the classroom before her. Which meant that many a note was passed, many a spitball was fired, and many a neck or arm was written on. And Max was free to do as she wished.
It was in this spirit that she had propped her textbook on her desk to hide the twelve slips of paper she was arranging and rearranging on her desk. Each slip had the name of a magic trick on it, and she was trying to find the perfect order for them all so that the show—which had thus far been turning into more of a nightmare than a dream—would elicit the applause she so greatly desired. Or at least not make her look like a fool onstage.
“What are you doing?” Judy whispered.
Max shot her the best mean look she could muster, accomplished by trying to mimic one of Judy’s own looks from previous days, and resumed her planning.
“Hey, I said I wanted to bury the hatchet,” Judy said. “Or are you the sort that holds a grudge forever?”
Max sighed. “I’m not holding a grudge.”
“I mean, I guess it would make sense if you were,” Judy said with her too-sweet smile. “Considering the Germans have been holding a grudge for, what, thirty years now? And since you’re practically a Nazi yourself . . .” Judy giggled and didn’t finish her sentence.
Max rolled her eyes and nearly fired back her own accusations, but someone handed Judy a pack of gum with a note that said it was from a secret admirer. Judy turned to look at the boys behind her, waved at the cutest she could spot, unwrapped a stick, and popped it in her mouth.
Five seconds later, she spat the stick of gum on the ground and screamed at the top of her lungs that someone was trying to poison her. Over her screams, Mrs. Conrad attempted to calm her down, mainly so she could understand what on earth had gotten into this silly little girl.
Max hid her smile in her hands. Eric was right, it was a really good prank.
Mrs. Conrad sent Natalie to take Judy to the nurse’s office, sat behind her desk, and started the reading again from the beginning.
Max was happy to see luck finally turning in her favor, if only for a short while.
She hadn’t expected just how brief her luck would be.
“Psst,” Margaret whispered behind her.
“What?”
“I’m going to fake sick so you can take me to the nurse.”
Max turned to give her an are-you-an-idiot look. “Why?”
“I want to check on Judy,” Margaret said.
“Then no.”
“And I need to talk to you about something.”
Max shook her head and returned to organizing the magic tricks. She heard Margaret rip a paper out of her notebook and scribble on it. She felt a corner of a folded message tap on her shoulder. She sighed and took it.
I know you don’t believe me about the devil worshippers, but I heard something I think you need to know.
Max rolled her eyes and raised her hand, clearing her throat to get Mrs. Conrad’s attention.
Mrs. Conrad either didn’t hear her or didn’t want to hear her, so Max blurted out, “Mrs. Conrad!”
Mrs. Conrad huffed. “Yes, Miss Larousse?”
“I have to go to the bathroom. Can Margaret please take me?”
Mrs. Conrad shot a suspicious glare over the top of her glasses. “You can’t take yourself?”
“I’m still new, ma’am. I don’t know where they are.”
Even Max knew how ridiculous that lie was, but Mrs. Conrad was so concerned with her precious reading-out-loud time that she waved them out into the hallway. Once they were clear of view from the classroom door, Max grabbed Margaret’s wrist and nearly dragged her down the hallway, out the side door, and over toward the custodian’s shed.
“Where are you taking me?” Margaret hissed. She would have screamed, but every child knows being kidnapped in the middle of school is only a half disaster.
“If you’ve got something to tell me about the ‘devil worshippers,’ I want my people to hear it,” Max said.
They rounded the corner to the Gremlins’ are
a, but the only person there was Lola.
“Where’s everybody?” Max asked.
“Eric’s in class today,” Lola said. “And Shoji and Carl are building the box at Carl’s house. They told me they didn’t need my help.”
“Of course they did.” Max shook off the desire to yell profanities at the skies above for making certain boys so bull-headed and insolent. “Oh well, you’re really the only one I wanted to hear this.” She nodded at Margaret. “You know her, right?”
Margaret worked very hard to avoid eye contact with Lola.
“Yeah, sort of,” Lola said, doing the same.
Max was very nearly done putting up with nonsense from any corner of humanity. “What’s the matter with you two?” she asked.
“I’m not supposed to be around her,” Margaret said.
“Why? Who made that rule?”
“Judy,” Margaret and Lola said at the same time.
“What for?”
“Judy says she’s a—”
“How ’bout we don’t go there?” Lola snapped. “Or maybe I’ll punch you in the face, and you can add that to her list of complaints about me.”
“I should go,” Margaret said and started back toward the school building.
Max grabbed her arm. “Look, I won’t tell Judy about this, you don’t tell Judy about this, none of us tell Judy about this, okay? Now, please, tell us what the devil worshippers are doing.”
Margaret shot her a look. “I thought you didn’t believe there were devil worshippers on your street.”
“I don’t. But there’s definitely something. So, spill it. What did you hear?”
Margaret looked around the corner and then motioned for Max and Lola to come in closer. “Okay, listen, I don’t want anybody to know what I’m about to tell you.”
“Well, that’s dangerous information,” Lola said with a grin. “Just kidding, do tell.”
Margaret backed away. “I don’t know . . .”
“She was kidding,” Max said and punched Lola in the arm. “She said she was kidding and she’s kidding. Come on, just talk.”
Margaret nodded. “Okay, there’s a lady who lives over by the park. She reads palms and tells fortunes. But nobody knows about her, obviously, so that’s why you can’t rat me out.”
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