“And look—a surprise for the first day of school of the New Year!” Mom was holding a bottle of milk. The cream on top had frozen and pushed up the cap. This happened lots in the winter, well, not lots, but a couple of times. When I first saw the frozen cream, I thought Mom had bought ice cream with the milk.
Mom scooped a spoonful into a cup for me. It was cold and crunchy, even better than ice cream as far as I was concerned. If Miss Gardner has us stand and tell the best part of our vacation, I’ll tell everyone about the frozen cream on the milk.
Buddy and I finished our breakfast and ran down snowy Fairmount Avenue, turning down Highland Avenue to catch our ride with Mr. Houdlette, Jeannie’s father.
“Good thing you boys made it this morning,” Mr. Houdlette said. “It’s pretty cold out there.”
In fact, it was so cold that Mr. Houdlette dropped Buddy, Jeannie, and me off at the corner of King Street, where the school was, instead of at the corner of Hanover and Orange, which was four blocks away. He never did that!
School WAS cold. I was glad Mom made me wear my zip-up sweater. Besides being cold, the windows were all crisscrossed with tape. Some of the kids swore they could see their breath, but really, it wasn’t THAT cold.
Our second-grade teacher, Miss Gardner, rang the little bell on her desk. This meant Quiet.
“Good morning, boys and girls, and happy New Year. I hope you all had a very nice holiday. First, let’s pledge allegiance to the flag.”
We all stood and recited the pledge. Then we sang “My Country ’Tis of Thee.”
“Everyone, sit, please. Now, I notice a few of you children aren’t wearing an extra sweater or something warm. We have a box of extra things up here by my desk. Don’t be shy and don’t worry if things are too big or too small.”
Several of my classmates filed up and tried on the extra sweaters. I noticed that Miss Fisher, the teacher across the hall, had on her outside coat. She wasn’t wearing her hat, though.
“I suppose you are all wondering why the windows are crisscrossed with tape. Well, it’s a precaution. If a bomb drops, the glass will not shatter and spray all over the place. The tape will help hold the glass in place,” Miss Gardner said.
Suddenly the air raid drill bell rang.
“Line up for our air raid drill,” Miss Gardner said.
We lined up quickly. I looked around. Some of the kids looked scared. I had a jumpy feeling in my stomach.
Miss Fisher came across the hall and whispered to Miss Gardner, “I didn’t know we were going to have a drill.”
“Go back to your class. I’m sure it’s all right,” Miss Gardner whispered back.
We all heard her.
The second bell rang. We filed down to the basement. Some kids forgot where we were supposed to go. It was very confusing. Some younger kids started to cry. The teachers tried to calm everyone down.
We were in the shelter area for a long time, or at least it felt like a long time. One thing that I noticed was the furnace wasn’t hissing as loud as it was during the first air raid drill.
Finally the bell rang again.
“All right, boys and girls, that was the all clear,” Miss Burke, the principal, announced. “You may go back to your classrooms.”
When Buddy, Jeannie, and I walked home for lunch, I asked Buddy if he thought it was a REAL air raid, and was he scared?
“Naw,” he said. “I knew it was only a drill.”
“How come?” I asked.
“You didn’t hear any planes, did you? How can you have a real air raid, with bombs dropping, if there aren’t any planes?”
Well, I guess he was right.
Mom had our favorite lunch, cream of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
In the afternoon, school was back to normal except it was still a little bit cold.
“This afternoon, class,” Miss Gardner said, “we are going to begin penmanship. When I call your name, come up to my desk and I will give you an empty ink bottle that goes in the little hole at the top right hand side of your desk. I will also give you a penholder and a pen point. Take good care of them because they are School Property.”
Just like everything in this room, I thought.
After we were back at our desks, we put the empty ink bottles in the holes in our desks.
Jack and Warren S. were named ink monitors. They went up and down the aisles and poured the ink Miss Gardner had made from powder and water into the inkwells. Patty passed out the penmanship paper. It was white with blue lines on it. Miss Gardner explained how to put the pen point into the penholder.
“Please watch,” Miss Gardner said. She drew lines on the blackboard just like Mr. Conklin did for music. Only these lines were blue.
“What we have to do first is to learn our Palmer Method exercises. Now, watch me carefully.” Miss Gardner took a piece of white chalk and began to go up and down and forward.
Next she made circles.
Then she made loops.
“Now,” Miss Gardner continued, “hold your pen in your right hand between your thumb and your first finger. Dip the pen point gently in your ink and copy the exercises five times each on your paper.”
I was in lots of trouble. First of all, I couldn’t hold the pen right. It went all over the paper. If I held it with my first two fingers and thumb, then it was okay. I hoped Miss Gardner wouldn’t notice.
Then, the pen point got “stuck” in the paper and ink went all over the place. I tried again and this time I had too much ink on the pen point and it left a “LAKE” on my paper.
I looked around the room. Some of the kids were doing just fine. The “lefties,” kids who used their left hands, were having an even harder time than I was.
I kept hoping we’d have another air raid drill.
Chapter Four
Today was the worst day since school started this year. Miss Gardner took adhesive tape and taped my three fingers together so I can’t hold my pen with two fingers and my thumb. My “exercises” are all over the place. And I don’t know WHO invented those pen points. They splurt and catch in the paper. The way Miss Gardner fusses over them, I’ll bet that if I broke one, I’d go to jail.
Mom said she’d help me. She bought me a penholder and a small box of pen points. The lady at Jepson’s stationery store told Mom to hold the pen points over a flame to make them stronger. We’ll see if that works.
At least the week had one sunshiny day. My first issue of Children’s Playmate magazine came in the mail on Wednesday.
When I was younger, I got Wee Wisdom, but then as I got older, it got boring. The stories weren’t very interesting and there was a lot of stuff about how to be polite and things like that.
Children’s Playmate has a color cover and I think the same artist does the picture every month. She signs it Fern Bisel Peat. Mom said that she is the “Art Director,” and she picks out all the art in the magazine. There are good stories, too. On the four pages in the middle of the magazine, there is a paper doll page.
I’ll confess a secret. I like paper dolls.
Jeannie gets paper doll books at the five-and-dime stores. But boys aren’t supposed to play with paper dolls. I cheat!
I draw clothes for Jeannie’s paper dolls. I like putting the little tabs at the shoulders and waist. In a box in our playroom in the attic, I’m keeping some paper dolls that I am making myself. I’m getting lots of ideas from the costume books that Miss Leah has at Dancing School. Miss Leah lets me look through the costume and material books. She knows I’ll be very careful!
In Children’s Playmate two of the pages have drawings and photos by children from all over the country. You send in something and if Miss Fern Bisel Peat likes it, they publish it (I guess).
The magazine says it’s also a good way to “have a pen pal.” Mom says that a pen pal is someone who becomes your friend by writing letters back and forth. That sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll try it.
But meanwhile, I have to work on my PENMANSHIP. I
don’t think Mr. Palmer liked children very much. If he did, his “drills” would have been more fun.
Chapter Five
What a weekend! The house was crowded with people. Aunt Kate, Uncle Tony, and our cousins Theresa (Blackie’s younger sister), Dominic (Blackie’s younger brother), and Blackie all came up to Connecticut from the Bronx.
Everyone came to the party because Blackie was on his way to the war in Europe. He was in the Hawaiian Islands when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. But he wasn’t on the island the Japanese attacked. Blackie was lucky.
Now they need bomber gunners in Europe to fly over to Germany, where the war is. Blackie is a Belly Gunner. “I’m short,” he said, “so I fit easily into the bubble under the bomber. That’s why they call us the Belly Gunners.”
Blackie brought us kids presents from Hawaii.
I was so excited when I opened up a genuine Hawaiian guitar just for me. It had a book with it. Blackie showed me how to play it a little. Then I opened up a big box. Inside was a genuine grass skirt with a hat made out of grass, too.
“That’s a good present for a sissy,” Buddy whispered to me.
But Blackie heard him. “Hey, Buddy, this is a grass skirt for a man dancer. Men wear grass skirts when they do certain ceremonial dances.”
So there! I knew what my Halloween costume would be.
Friday night, we had Blackie all to ourselves. While the grown-ups were sitting at the kitchen table talking after supper, Blackie sat with me in the living room and asked me how everything was. I told him about the Palmer Method and how Mom said she’d help me.
“Oh, boy, if Aunt Floss is going to help you, you have nothing to worry about. She’s so smart, she can do almost anything. I’ll tell you a secret,” Blackie said, lowering his voice. “She’s my favorite aunt. Don’t tell anybody!”
I said I wouldn’t.
We talked some more and I sang “We’re the Couple in the Castle” for him and told him how Carol Morrissey was my partner and Patty Clark was Billy Burns’s partner. Then I told him about being the only one in second grade who still had all his BABY teeth.
“Let me see,” Blackie said. “Open up.”
I opened my mouth wide. Blackie looked inside. Then he put his finger on one of my bottom teeth and he moved it back and forth.
“I think this one is a little loose. Try it.” I put my finger on my tooth and moved it. It seemed a little loose.
On Saturday, Uncle Nick, Aunt Loretta, and their daughter, Cousin Helen, came over. And Uncle Frank, Aunt Susie, Aunt Clo, and Cousins Frances and Connie drove down from Fall River. Nana Fall-River came, too.
“We thought we’d better come for a visit before the government starts rationing gas,” Uncle Frank said. They all stayed at Uncle Nick’s house.
Everyone was there for Sunday dinner. Tom and Nana, Uncle Charles, and his girlfriend, Viva, came up from Wallingford. Nana brought a roasted turkey even though it wasn’t Thanksgiving or Christmas. Nana Fall-River brought a big pot of tomato sauce. Dad made meatballs and cooked spaghetti.
Aunt Kate brought cheese and pastries from the Bronx and Uncle Nick and Aunt Loretta brought antipasto—cold cuts, cheeses, peppers, and olives. Tom brought ice cream from Foote’s. It was a real feast.
I’d have a lot to tell my friends at school tomorrow.
Chapter Five
“Boys and girls,” Miss Gardner said, “pick up your chairs quietly and go across the hall to Miss Fisher’s room. Mrs. Bowers is here for art and she doesn’t have enough time to go to each room. So we will join the other second grade.”
I was a little disappointed. I was hoping to have Mrs. Bowers all to myself—well, at least to OUR class. But I guess this is better than nothing.
Miss Fisher’s class had made room for us, so there were two of us at each desk. I was lucky. I got to share with Jean M.
“Hello, everyone,” Mrs. Bowers said cheerfully. “Today we are going to learn to make . . . VALENTINES!”
I was so excited that I clapped.
“Tommy,” Miss Fisher warned. (All the teachers made me spell my name T-o-m-m-y instead of T-o-m-i-e.)
Mrs. Bowers gave each of us a piece of red construction paper. She showed us how to fold it in half carefully and in half again. Then we cut a half-a-heart shape, making sure to leave a little piece at the top to hold it all together. There was a double heart!
“Now I’ll show you how you can have a little heart-shaped window to open up.”
Mrs. Bowers was like a magician. Everything she did was easy to learn and came out so perfect.
“I think every valentine needs some flowers, so I’m going to show how to draw three different flowers,” Mrs. Bowers said.
Crayons and paper were passed out. Mrs. Bowers, who always had a big box of colored chalks with her, went to the blackboard.
“First we will make a daisy,” Mrs. Bowers said. “Draw a yellow circle and color it in. Then, using any color you want, put eight puppy-dog-ear shapes around the circle, and you have a daisy!”
We all tried. It was fun.
“Next will be a violet. Make a small yellow dot. Then use a dark blue crayon to outline the petals around the yellow dot. At the top make two rabbit-ear shapes. Then put two lamb ears on either side and an upside-down heart at the bottom. Then color in the five violet petals with light purple.”
Those were fun to do!
“Now we will make a rose. With red make a spiral shape. Then put half circles all around the spiral and lightly color it in. I think if you use daisies, violets, and roses together, it will look very pretty.
“Oh,” Mrs. Bowers said, “I forgot to show you the different leaves. They are all green. So let’s draw a green stem from each flower. Some daisies have feathery leaves like this.”
Mrs. Bowers drew lots of little lines.
“Violets have very curvy stems and leaves that look like big hearts.” She drew them.
“Roses have very sturdy stems and usually three leaves together on a stem off the main stem. The leaves have little notches on the edges.”
Mrs. Bowers was so great! She explained everything really, really well. I couldn’t wait to make lots and lots of valentines when we went back to our room.
Only that didn’t happen. Miss Gardner had put all kinds of arithmetic problems on the blackboard while we were in Miss Fisher’s room having art.
“All right, boys and girls, put away your art projects and crayons,” Miss Gardner announced. “It’s time for arithmetic. Patty, will you pass out the arithmetic paper? Copy the problems off the board and solve them. Be sure you notice that there is addition, subtraction, division, and multiplication. You will have forty-five minutes.”
I carefully began copying the problems, but all of a sudden, I remembered Mrs. Bowers telling us about the different flowers. I didn’t want to forget what she said or how she drew them.
I turned my arithmetic paper over and carefully drew first the daisy with its stem and feathery leaves, next the rose and its jagged leaves, and finally the violet with its heart-shaped leaves.
I didn’t see Miss Gardner standing next to my desk.
“And just what do you think you are doing, young man?”
“I’m just trying to remember how Mrs. Bowers drew the flowers, so I was using the back of my arithmetic paper, Miss Gardner. I thought the flowers would look nice on the Valentine Mailbox,” I added quickly.
“Well, since you did not follow instructions, you certainly won’t be making the Valentine Mailbox,” Miss Gardner said, looking over the class. “Diane and Nancy will make the mailbox this year.”
What was I going to tell Mom? She already got me a box from Tom to be the Valentine Mailbox.
When I got home, I told Mom the whole story.
“Tomie, you know how important arithmetic is, especially to Miss Gardner,” Mom said.
“But I told Miss Gardner that I had to practice. I told her I wasn’t going to be an ‘arithmeticker’ when I grow up. I’m goi
ng to be an artist,” I said.
Mom turned away. I think she was smiling.
“Tomorrow,” she said, turning back to me, “you can take the box to school and give it to Diane and Nancy to use. But I also want you to tell Miss Gardner that you will try harder at arithmetic—and penmanship, too!”
So, I don’t have a lot to look forward to tomorrow. At least Diane and Nancy are good at arithmetic!
Chapter Seven
Mom asked Miss Gardner if she could make her heart cookies for Valentine’s Day. Miss Gardner said something about it maybe being a long time before we have cookies again. Something about “shortages.”
Everyone’s talking about shortages, shortages. I wish there would be a shortage of arithmetic paper. But I bet Miss Gardner has a huge stack of it “HOARDED” away.
That’s another word I’ve been hearing lately. “Hoarding” is when people get lots of things they think will be scarce—like sugar —and hide it away. I overheard two ladies on the bus talking about a lady who had her husband buy fifty pounds of sugar. They hid it in their basement. But it was damp down there and the whole fifty pounds of sugar turned hard as a rock. So, every night when he came home from work, the husband had to go down to the basement with a hammer and knock off a chunk of sugar for his tea.
Well, it’s happened. No more bubble gum! And I just learned how to blow bubbles! Buddy and I went into George’s Confectionary Store on our way home from school and right there on the candy counter was a sign:
Why?: The War Years Page 2