Cinderella's Dress

by Shonna Slayton

  Kate’s first impulse was to stick out her tongue at him when Miss Lassiter turned her back. But when she realized she was smiling at him instead, she felt herself blush along with the smile. Wayward heart! Remember how he likes to poke fun. Her smile began to waver, and she looked down at her shoes as he walked away.

  A small piece of paper had fallen from Johnny’s stack. She picked it up and started to say, “Hey, you dropped…” but then noticed it was one of his unmistakable sketches, a drawing of the window design from last week. Miss Lassiter was already in the elevator, so Kate folded the paper and stuck it in her pocket, her heart beating fast. She would give it back to Johnny the next time she saw him. Or she might keep it in her locker for a while.

  “Up to the storeroom, please,” Miss Lassiter told the elevator operator.

  Kate watched Johnny’s long strides to the stairwell until the elevator doors clamped shut.

  “You know Johnny?” asked Miss Lassiter.

  “I’ve run into him a time or two.” She traced the folded paper in her pocket.

  “Nice boy.” She smiled. “He’s a hard worker.”

  The elevator operator opened the doors at their floor. Mrs. Lassiter showed Kate the closet where she kept display items for Women’s Wear. It was mostly filled with table racks, pedestals, and fake greenery. “Mr. G is a little miffed I keep my own display collection. I never change any of his displays, but sometimes we need something quick and he’s busy with the large windows.”

  She looked at her watch. “Oh, it’s time to get ready for the noon fashion show. There’s a stomach bug going around, and I’m short two girls. Think you can fill in?” She turned off the light and started walking to the elevator as if it were already decided.

  “Okay.” Kate caught up with her. After bailing during the big fund-raiser, there was no way she could say no. Besides, the daily shows weren’t so bad. Not many women were there to watch, anyway. Nothing to be nervous about, she told herself.

  Back at Women’s Wear, Miss Lassiter scanned the floor until she saw a salesgirl who wasn’t busy and called her over.

  “Miss Martin, I need you and Miss Allen on the noon show.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Miss Martin looked like she’d stepped out of one of the pages of Stardom magazine. Her shiny blond hair curled back as it brushed the top of her shoulder, and she wore a pale pink jersey top with a white linen skirt. A single strand of pearls draped her neck.

  “I see you’ve been working with the steamer.” She pointed at Kate’s hair as they made their way to the changing rooms. “It gives everyone the frizzies. We’re all too happy to turn it over to you. Especially in this heat.” She waved her hands. “I sure wish they had central air-conditioning in this store. I’ve only been working here for two months, and I’ve had enough of that steamer. Got a fella in the war, and I need something to keep my mind off him. My girlfriends all went in to be nurses, but that’s not for me. I guess there’s not much hero material in me. I’d rather be ready to get married and start a family when Robert gets home.” She glanced at Kate. “Your mom is Mrs. Allen, right?”

  “Yes.” Kate grabbed the clothes Miss Martin handed her from the clothes rack. “But if I could, I’d really like to work in the window displays.”

  Miss Martin laughed. “You and all the men?”

  “There’re really no women at all?” She had been hoping her mother was keeping the women working in windows a secret from her.

  “I think Mr. G’s old aunt dresses the manikins ahead of time. The men don’t always do such a great job dressing them. Maybe you could help her.”

  “I guess. I’d rather do something more creative, though.”

  “We can get creative around here,” Miss Martin said defensively. “Of course, before the war, our clothes had more style.” She began counting on her fingers. “Pockets, collars, zippers—regulated, rationed, reserved.”

  The show began at twelve o’clock to a small audience. Turned out Fran Marshall was one of the girls out sick. Whew. Now Kate only had to worry about the people in front of the curtain making her nervous.

  She stepped out wearing a pink tea gown and her wild hair. There had been no time for lunch or a new hairdo. She started down the short platform with unfocused eyes but quickly became aware of the people watching her. Heat rose up her neck and into her face until she was sure her cheeks were glowing red. She tried to keep her heart rate steady, but it defied her and began to race.

  Movement at the back of the room drew her attention. It was Johnny Day. Dancing the jitterbug. When he met her eyes, he feigned a fall like back at the movie audition. The nerve! To think she had thought for a teeny-tiny minute that he was cute. He was horrid.

  She squared her shoulders and completed her walk with her chin held high. It wasn’t until the show was over that she realized she had made no mistakes and her hands weren’t shaking anymore. Take that, Johnny Day.

  Chapter Nine

  Later that night, Kate escaped up to Josie’s apartment while Floyd and her mother talked. They had been talking since dinner, and even Adalbert and Elsie went for a walk to give them some privacy.

  When she came home, the apartment was silent. Missing were the sounds of Floyd grabbing a snack in the kitchen or Mother listening to the radio, hoping for good news. Instead, the silence weighed heavily under the pressure of the tension hanging in the air.

  Mother was out on the fire escape. She stood at the rail, staring at the skyline while the smoke from her cigarette drifted off like the aftermath of battle.

  Kate knocked on Floyd’s door. “It’s me.”

  “Door’s open.”

  Floyd lay on his bed, arms crossed, looking up at the B-17 bomber poster on his ceiling. “Look at her, Kate. The Flying Fortress. She can go over two hundred miles an hour. Can you even imagine? Give me a machine like that, and I’ll help us win the war.”

  With the curtains drawn across the window, Floyd’s room was cave-like: dark and smelling like his sweaty basketball clothes. A lamp on his desk spotlighted a half-finished airplane model. Against the base of the light leaned a picture of a girl. A pretty brunette with a smattering of freckles across her nose.

  So, Floyd had a girl to leave behind and send him letters sprayed with perfume and printed with x’s and o’s at the bottom. He hadn’t told them.

  “I start with basic training. And if I’m good enough, I can move on up the road to pilot training. I’ve got to pass a slew of tests.” He chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. “Never thought I’d be this excited about taking a test. I must have lost my head.”

  Kate lay down, and he moved over so she could share his pillow. She looked at the poster and pictured her brother flying one of those things. The plane was all cold steel, but the shoulder pressed against hers was warm. Very much alive. Kate shuddered. She didn’t want to imagine Floyd flying into battle. She’d rather picture him messing up her hair or banging on the bathroom door when she took too long getting ready in the morning.

  “It’ll be okay, little sis. I’m doing this for you and Mom.”

  “Not because you want to fly two hundred miles an hour?”

  Floyd was silent for a minute. “That, too.”

  “It’s been too long since we’ve heard from him.” Kate crossed her arms, knowing her brother would know who she was talking about. He was the only one who really understood what life was like without Dad around.

  “But there’s been no telegram, so he’s got to be okay. You know, busy on a secret mission protecting all that art and culture over there. He’ll write as soon as he can. Heck, maybe I’ll see him when I go over. Maybe I can get his picture made and send it back to you to prove he’s okay.”

  Kate smiled slightly and leaned in closer. The world was too big a place.

  Floyd punched her arm. “Besides,” he said, “now you two have Adalbert and Elsie here to help keep things jazzy. Being that they’re spies and all.” He turned his head and winked.

  “Nice, br
other.”

  He laughed. “I’m joshin’. They’ve been swell, though a little odd at times. Did you know I found the rolling pin put up with the towels? And this morning, I found Elsie’s shoes stuffed under a sofa cushion. It’s like she’s playing a strange game of hide-and-seek. Either that, or she’s not all right in the head.”

  So now Floyd knew. Kate frowned. “Adalbert worries about her. She’s said some strange things to me. About our family.”

  “You mean like the reason Babcia ran away from her family?”

  Kate sat up. “You know what happened?”

  “Naw, only that something went on. I want no part of any of that. I’d rather not know and be happy with everyone than know some big secret and be at odds with everyone. Wouldn’t you?”

  Kate shrugged. “I guess.” But no. She did want to know. “Did Babcia ever mention a ball gown?”

  “That’s a random question.”

  “Hmm. Random dream I had last night.” It was all a vague memory today. No matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t pull the pieces of it together to form a solid picture.

  “Hey, listen, you can have my room when I ship out. But don’t make it too girlie. It’s mine when I come back.”

  “I’ll need to air it out before I move in,” she said, plugging her nose.

  He ignored her teasing and they both went quiet, staring at the airplane poster.

  Floyd shifted slightly. “You’re a pretty girl. Watch out for the boys while I’m gone.”

  Kate peeked sideways. Was this the same brother who’d been calling her names her whole life?

  He shrugged. “I mean, I hear the boys talk about you at school.”

  “They do?” This was news to her.

  “Sure. But I tell them what a goober you are, so don’t worry, they’ll stay far away.”

  She pulled the pillow out from under him. His head bounced back on the mattress, and he grinned. Kate flung the pillow at his stomach before marching out of the room.

  …

  The next night, Floyd and Adalbert went out together, leaving Kate with a sneaking suspicion they were up to something. When she asked Mom where they went, she waved off the question and turned on the radio, humming along with “As Time Goes By.” While it was nice to hear her mother humming for once, it was disconcerting at the same time.

  Elsie was no help, either. She simply handed Kate the shuttle and tried to teach her a new and difficult pattern. One that took most of her concentration. However, when Kate noticed the third furtive glance between Elsie and her mother, she couldn’t take it anymore.

  She set down her tatting and confronted them. “What is going on? You two both look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

  Elsie looked confused. “I not knowing this expression.”

  “She means we look guilty,” explained Mom. “Like a cat who has eaten the family pet and thinks he has gotten away with it.”

  “I see no canary,” said Elsie, glancing innocently around the apartment.

  Floyd walked in at that moment, minus Uncle Adalbert. He waved and went straight to the kitchen for a snack.

  “Where’s Uncle Adalbert?” Kate asked.

  “Oh, he had something to do. He’ll be home soon.”

  “Where did you two go?” Kate persisted, only to be interrupted by Aunt Elsie pushing her tatting back at her.

  “Is time for me to tell story. In Poland, as little girl, my mama tells me this story. She says, once upon a true time.” Elsie lifted her finger as if making a point. “A girl named Kopciuszek is born to young man and wife. She grows up to be kind girl and helpful to her mama. One day, plague kills her mother. Her papa, very sad. No eat. No sleep. Everything makes him think of dead wife. Little girl tries to help papa forget, but he cannot. Marries widow with two girls. Hoping she make him happy. But then he dies of broken heart, leaving gentle daughter to mercy of mean stepsisters and stepmother.”

  Kate studied her aunt as she spoke. Elsie’s face had lit up in a smile, and her hands became more animated as her story continued. What would it be like to live in a dream world but not know it? Kate tried to push down the feelings of pity that were welling up inside. The strong Aunt Elsie, the one who survived the war, would not want to be pitied.

  “Kopciuszek is made to be servant. They beat her. Treat her like animal. But Kopciuszek is very pretty girl. Boys notice her, even in her rags. When no one looking, she goes to mountaintop to breathe fresh air. See beauty God has made. She meets boy there one day. He too looks to escape. Only he not beaten as she. He is prince. Much attention he wants to escape for a time. They fall in love, but they need plan. King and queen want to arrange marriage. Prince not happy with choices. He wants Kopciuszek. Queen agrees to ball. Invite all girls who can pay for ball gowns, mostly princesses. Queen thinks this help find right girl. She suspects prince has poor secret love.”

  “This sounds like the Cinderella story,” broke in Mom. “One of my favorites when I was a girl. Only the version I read was a little bit different.”

  Elsie nods and continues. “Prince sends poor girl dress to wear, but cousins find it first. They fight over dress and tear to shreds. How will Kopciuszek find dress for ball? All money goes to cousins to make their dresses. Kopciuszek has nothing but rags. But Kopciuszek has something better. She has friend who lives in cave on mountaintop. Esmerelda.”

  “Is that her fairy godmother?” Kate asked.

  “Is curious friend. No one likes—all throw stones so she lives secret in cave. She sees Kopciuszek on day of ball. Kopciuszek is crying. Kopciuszek has nothing. But Esmerelda has something. She brings out beautiful dress, like none ever seen before. Dress fits Kopciuszek like made only for her. Kopciuszek goes to ball. Queen thinks she is lovely princess. Suitable bride for prince. They marry. Stepsisters are angry. They plot against Kopciuszek. They think dress how you say? Charmed.

  “They move to neighboring kingdom and marry princes there. These Burgosov princes eager to start war. Kopciuszek’s prince goes to war. At end, kingdom is divided. Stepsisters search high and low for Kopciuszek’s dress. Missing.” She paused. “And then it begins.”

  “What begins?”

  “The searching for dress, of course.” She lowered her voice even further to a raspy whisper. “They are still after it today.”

  “Who is?” asked Kate.

  “The Burgosovs. Her stepsisters. They have never gotten over being bested by Kolodenkos time and time again. They will not stop until dress is theirs.”

  “Why would they care so much about a dress?”

  Elsie’s eyes twinkled. “You only ask because you not yet seen dress.”

  Kate laughed nervously, catching Floyd’s eye.

  He shut off the radio on his way to the kitchen with his dishes. As he walked behind Elsie, he looped his finger around the side of his head, making the crazy sign. He thought Elsie was off her rocker. Well, maybe she was, but Kate’s intuition told her to pay attention. There was no mention of magic or a fairy godmother. The fairy-tale version could have grown out of folk legend. There could be such a dress.

  A dress like the one that showed up again in Kate’s dreams, and this time she held on to the image.

  When her mother followed Floyd into the kitchen, Kate leaned toward Elsie. “What color was her dress?” she whispered.

  “Is blue and white.” She clasped her hands, a bright smile on her face. “Is getting stronger, now that we have the necklace again. Soon, I think, you will be able to see it.”

  Had Kate been the fainting kind, she would have collapsed right then. That was the dress. How did it appear in her dreams? Kate reset the threads on her fingers. Could Elsie’s illness be catching? Did it run in the family? Under, over, over, under. The shuttle went back and forth like her mind. True, fairy tale, fairy tale, true.

  If the gown matched the dress that had pushed its way into her dreams—a dress with a silky blue bodice that wrapped around into a billowy sash at the back, tied over a
bright white skirt—well then, Kate herself would feel a little less crazy. But since she had already seen the empty trunk, Elsie would have to make the dress appear from nowhere.

  Chapter Ten

  Freshly out of the pin curls Mom had insisted she put in the night before, Kate sat on the edge of the sofa with her eyes closed, hands pressed against the new dress her mother had bought. A navy shirtwaist with an inset belt.

  She told everyone she didn’t want them making a big deal about her birthday this year but was curious at the strange sounds she was hearing. There was a great deal of scraping, grunting, and Mom calling out directions to Floyd. “Careful of the doorway. Don’t you dare scratch it.”

  Josie giggled. “You’re going to love it. No peeking.” Josie added her hands to Kate’s already closed eyes.

  Aunt Elsie let out a tiny gasp. “Is beautiful.”

  The noise stopped. “Open your eyes,” said Mom.

  Kate blinked, and her eyes adjusted to the light. “Beautiful” was not a strong enough word for what was waiting in front of her. It was the prettiest thing she’d ever been given. For years, she had wanted one like her mother’s.

  Her very own hope chest.

  The chest was stained a light chestnut brown, darkening to a deep brown amid the rosette details carved around the top edge and into the crevices of the carved rope along the bottom. The chest represented so many things all at once. Dreams, growing older, leaving home. Kate’s throat tightened, and she swallowed a lump. She didn’t know what to say.

  “I, well, thank you,” she choked out, running her hand along the lid. The gift had caught her by surprise.

  “Now you can start preparing for your future home. Linens, blankets, silver sets, teacups…” Mother looked like she was going to say more, but stopped.

  Kate wondered if she was thinking about Dad. Their chest sat at the foot of their bed, filled with winter blankets and clothes, along with mementos from their courtship and wedding.