American Rebirth

by Norma Jean Lutz

  They gathered around the bench. Rachel passed around the two dolls.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Katherine said. “Did she really paint them herself?”

  “Of course she did,” Rachel said. “She brought three of them to my house last night, all different sizes.”

  “Where does she get the dolls?”

  “Her father carves them.”

  Mariah’s eyes widened in interest. “Her father carves the dolls, and she paints them?” Rachel nodded.

  Mariah looked at Annalina then asked Rachel, “Does she understand what we’re saying?”

  “Slow down, and use short words,” Rachel suggested.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go ahead,” Rachel urged.

  Mariah turned to Annalina. “Very pretty,” she said, holding one of the dolls.

  “Dank you.” Annalina smiled.

  Rachel smiled, too. The beautiful dolls were a language of their own. Girls from across the ocean could enjoy the same beauty. Annalina was going to do just fine.

  As the other girls all tried to talk at once to Annalina, Rachel stood up. She was hoping to share the good news with Sam. But when she tried to catch his eye from across the school yard, she saw that things were not going as well for him this morning as they had for her. “See you in class,” she told the other girls, and then she moved closer to Sam and his group of friends, hoping to hear what was going on.

  “It was crazy to turn over a streetcar,” Steve was saying. “The people who did that should be arrested and locked up.”

  “All ten thousand of them?” someone asked.

  “There were ten thousand people at the riot,” Steve said, “but not all of them turned over the streetcars. Only a few did that.”

  Rachel could still picture the faces of the men who had rocked the streetcar till it toppled.

  “Steve, I thought your father was in the union,” Tad said. “Why are you siding with the streetcar company?”

  “I’m not siding with anybody,” Steve said. “I’m just saying they didn’t have to turn over two streetcars.”

  “They had to do something to get the attention of Thomas Lowry. My father says that Lowry won’t even talk to the union leaders.”

  Steve made a face. “Do you really think that destroying a streetcar is going to make Lowry give the drivers back their wages? Lowry is not the kind of person to be frightened by something like that. In fact, it’s likely to make him even angrier.”

  Rachel thought Steve had a good point. She watched as Jim Harrison could not hold his feelings in any longer. “If Lowry can do whatever he wants to do with the drivers’ pay, then the drivers can do whatever they want with the streetcars.”

  Simon made a face. “Cutting the drivers’ pay was a business decision. Lowry wasn’t trying to hurt anybody.”

  “Maybe he didn’t try to hurt anybody,” Jim said, “but he did. All he cares about is making himself richer.”

  “It’s his business. He has a right to make a profit.”

  Jim’s face was flaming red now. “Does he have a right to take food away from my little sisters?”

  “He didn’t do that.”

  “Yes, he did!”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  Simon swung at Jim, who ducked just in time.

  “Get ‘em!” cried Tad. Rachel shook her head. That boy was always ready for a fight.

  “Stop!” Hank shouted. “Please don’t hurt each other. Please stop!”

  But Jim’s right fist connected with Simon’s left eye.

  Rachel gasped and jumped forward, but her brother was ahead of her. “Jim Harrison, stop this nonsense!” Sam grabbed Jim’s arm and twisted it behind his back.

  “He started it.” Simon glared at Jim.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  The bell rang just then. All across the school yard, students started shuffling their way into the building. Rachel joined them.

  “We’re not finished,” she heard Simon mutter at Jim. Rachel looked over her shoulder and saw that Simon’s eye was swelling up and had turned an angry red.

  Jim scoffed. “Just remember who punched you.”

  A shadow fell across the ground in front of Rachel. She looked up to see Mr. Martin, the principal, looming over the students.

  “I understand some of you boys were just involved in a dispute,” he said in his deep, grave voice.

  Rachel looked back at the boys. Jim and Simon stared straight ahead. Neither of them said anything.

  “It is my understanding that this dispute centered on the riot last Sunday. Is that correct?”

  Again, no one spoke. Mr. Martin frowned.

  “Mr. Borland,” the principal said. “And Miss Borland. I believe you both were present during the riot. Is that correct?”

  Rachel swallowed hard. “Yes, sir,” she heard Sam say, and she nodded silently.

  Mr. Martin looked at Sam. “Were you participating, young man?” “No, sir! We were on our way to Easter dinner, and we got trapped.”

  “So I understand. Perhaps you would like to comment for the other students on what you saw.”

  The mass of students had fallen silent. Rachel felt as though everyone was staring at her and her brother. She saw Sam gulp. “People were angry,” he said softly.

  “Please speak up, Mr. Borland,” the principal said. “I want everyone here to be able to hear what you have to say.”

  Sam squared his shoulders. “People were angry,” he repeated, almost shouting now. “They were saying mean things about each other—about their own neighbors. A few weeks ago it didn’t matter that one friend was a manager at the mill and another friend drove a streetcar. But now, people are choosing their friends based on how they earn a living.”

  “And do you find this reasonable?” Mr. Martin asked.

  Sam shook his head. “No, sir. It’s not fair.” Rachel saw him look at Simon and Jim. “A friend is a friend, no matter what.”

  Jim spoke up now. “But what if the friend you trusted does something to hurt you? Is he still a friend?”

  Rachel watched as Sam thought for a moment. “I think that it is not always easy to understand why a person does something. And until we understand, we shouldn’t get all riled up.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Borland,” the principal said. “That is a very reasonable opinion. I would like everyone to spend some time today thinking about what Mr. Borland just said. And now, would you all please proceed immediately to your classrooms?”

  Sam looked relieved to have attention shift away from him. Rachel caught his eye and smiled. “Good job,” she mouthed, so only he would know what she was saying.

  As the students jostled their way into the school building, Rachel noticed that Simon and Jim still did not look at each other. Had they listened to anything Sam said?

  CHAPTER 15

  A Birthday Blessing and a Tense Practice

  Rachel woke up all at once on the first day of May, excited because of her birthday and yet a little worried because of her party. She had asked Annalina, Colleen, and Janie separately, and all had agreed to come. Colleen, Janie, and Rachel had spent their birthdays together in the past. Of course the cloud of the strike hadn’t hung over them before.

  “Happy birthday, Rachel!” Carrie screamed as Rachel came into the kitchen for breakfast. Carrie ran over and gave her now-eleven-year-old sister a big hug.

  “Happy birthday, Rachel,” Sam echoed, in a quieter, more dignified manner.

  “Yes, honey, happy birthday,” Rachel’s parents greeted her in unison.

  As Rachel sat down to her breakfast, she found two gifts at her place. “May I open them now, please?”

  Her mother shrugged, “Well, I suppose so. But you must eat breakfast before you leave for school.”

  Rachel carefully pulled the paper from the first gift. “That’s from Sam and me,” piped up Carrie. She seemed more excited than Rachel. Inside the package was the mos
t beautiful book Rachel had ever seen.

  “It’s a journal. The pages are all blank so you can write down all of your thoughts,” Sam explained. “There’s something else in there, too.”

  Rachel lifted up the journal and found a lovely pen. “Oh, Carrie and Sam. It’s beautiful. I will think of both of you every time I write in the book.”

  Next she opened the gift from her mama and papa. It was a small package, but the paper and ribbon were so fancy.

  “Oooh, it’s so beautiful.” Inside the package was a gold necklace with a small locket. Inside the locket was an even smaller lock of very fair-colored hair.

  “That’s your hair, Rachel. From when you were first born,” Papa said.

  “I’ve been saving it to give to you,” her mama added. “To remind you how small you once were and how far you’ve come.”

  Rachel thought she was going to cry. “I love them all—I love you all. Thank you so much.” She got up and walked around the table, hugging each member of her family.

  Bringing everyone back to the present, Mama reminded everyone, “It’s getting late. Now everyone eat your breakfast.”

  After what seemed to Rachel like forever, school finally ended for the day. Annalina came home with her, and Colleen and Janie arrived not long after. As Rachel had requested, her mother had made a small cake just for the girls.

  All of the girls seemed a bit nervous, and Rachel thought that

  Annalina looked as though she felt out of place. “Let’s eat cake first!” Rachel suggested. The others agreed, and they went into the kitchen. Mama had set the table with the nice plates, and she watched as Rachel cut the cake. After the girls got their cake, Mama left them alone for their own party.

  “Annalina, this is ‘cake.’ Say it: ‘cake.’”

  “Cake!” Annalina said, smiling. Right the first time!

  “That’s right, Annalina. Colleen, Janie, she said ‘cake.’” Rachel could not hide her enthusiasim.

  Colleen and Janie looked at each other. Then they started giggling.

  “Stop it!” Rachel said sharply to the two of them. “Annalina works hard to learn English. You shouldn’t make fun of her.” What Rachel had hoped would be the start of a renewed friendship was not off to a good start.

  Colleen and Janie laughed harder. This time, Annalina joined them.

  “What’s going on?” Rachel could not believe what she was seeing—and hearing.

  “It all right, Rachel,” Annalina reassured her. “Colleen and Janie help me learn to say ‘cake’ to surprise you. We friend, too.”

  Colleen and Janie nodded. “Rachel, Janie and I decided that our friendship was too important to lose over something we could not control.”

  “Colleen and I agreed to disagree about the unions. After all, it’s our parents’ jobs, not ours. And we decided,” Janie continued, putting her arm around Annalina, “that we should give Annalina a chance. After all, if you like her, there has to be a reason. Now, let’s open your presents!”

  For the second time that day, a gift had made Rachel feel like crying. She knew that what was in those packages could not be better than what Colleen, Janie, and Annalina had just given her.

  That Saturday, Rachel followed Sam and her older cousin on their way to baseball practice.

  “This is a terrific idea, Sam.” Seth Stockard strode down the street next to his young cousin with a bat propped over his shoulder. At eighteen and a half, Seth was tall, with lanky legs and a long stride. His dark hair often looked like it needed to be combed.

  “I promised the team you would say yes,” Sam said, “so I’m sure glad you did.”

  “How could I say no to coaching a baseball team?”

  “I thought you might be too busy. You have a job, and I know that you’re really a scientist.”

  “I’m glad you recognize that, Sam, because I think it’s time I started teaching you about science as well as baseball.”

  “Do you mean that?” Rachel saw the excitement on Sam’s face, and she felt a twinge of jealousy. Sometimes it seemed like boys got to have all the fun. Then she remembered all the fun she and her friends had had at her birthday party, and she changed her mind. She knew her brother had had a tough time with his friends lately. He deserved to have some fun, too. “Can we work in your lab together?” Sam was asking Seth.

  “Absolutely. But there’s always time for baseball. You have a sharp team. I’ve seen you play. So I know this will be fun.”

  Sam sighed. “The last game was a disaster. I’m glad you weren’t there. It was so embarrassing.”

  Seth chuckled. “I heard about it. It seems you lost your hurler. Has he come back to the team?”

  “He was at practice on Tuesday, but I don’t know if he’ll come back today.” Sam winced at the memory of Jim’s fist hitting Simon’s eye.

  They turned a corner to head in the direction of the field.

  “I know you can help us,” Sam said. “But I have to warn you. Not everyone may want your help.”

  “Every coach has to win over some players—even on professional teams.” Seth moved the bat to the other shoulder. “A good coach has to prove himself. I know I have to show that I understand baseball from the inside out.”

  If only it were that simple, Rachel thought. If only the boys on the team would think about baseball and not unions and strikes.

  “You seem a little nervous,” Rachel said, almost running to keep up with them.

  Sam shrugged. “Getting a coach was my idea. Asking Seth was my idea. If—”

  “If this doesn’t work out, you’ll look bad to the boys on your team.” Seth finished Sam’s thought. “Don’t worry, Sam. I can make this work.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll just approach it scientifically. I’ll make a hypothesis about what I think will happen then I’ll try some ideas to see if the hypothesis is true.”

  Rachel and Sam laughed.

  By the time they arrived at the practice field, most of the boys were there already. Sam got their attention and signaled that they should gather around home plate. Rachel took her usual place on the bench.

  “This is Seth Stockard, our new coach,” Sam said proudly. “Hello, boys.”

  “This is Jim. He plays first base.” Sam pointed his finger at each boy in turn. “And this is Steve and Joe and Elwood and Larry, Tad, and Hank.” Sam scanned the field. “I don’t see Simon. He’s the hurler.”

  “He’s probably not coming,” Joe said.

  “He’s just late,” said Hank.

  “No, he’s not coming,” Joe insisted.

  Seth jumped in. “Let’s give him a few minutes more. In the meantime, why don’t we get started?”

  “Just a minute.” Steve was leaning on a bat with a suspicious expression on his face. “I have a few questions to ask the new coach.”

  “Sure,” Seth said. “Ask anything you’d like.”

  “Have you ever coached a baseball team before?”

  “No, but I’ve played baseball all my life. I taught Sam everything he knows.”

  That seemed to impress Steve. Rachel knew Sam was a good player.

  “What position did you play?” Steve continued asking. “Most of the time I played in the outfield. I have a pretty good arm for throwing the ball back into the infield.” “Can you hit?”

  “Better than average,” Seth said confidently. “I can get a hit when I really need one.”

  “How many professional games have you seen?”

  “Oh, dozens, maybe hundreds,” Seth answered. “I go whenever I can with my uncle Stanley.”

  “He’s a railroad man, isn’t he?” Joe asked.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Is he in the union?”

  Rachel’s stomach tightened. But she could see Seth was not flustered. “Hey, are we here to talk politics or to play ball?” “Play ball!” exclaimed Tad.

  “Then let’s get to it.” Seth clapped his hands several times. “You’re going to have to show
me what you can do today. Then we can work out some plays.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Sam asked. “Set up a batting practice rotation,” Seth answered. “I want to see your swings.” Sam nodded.

  “Jim, go on over to first base,” Seth said. “I’ll pitch. The rest of you can get in the hitting rotation.”

  The boys set up their formation. Elwood batted first. Seth threw him an easy pitch, but it was a little high. Elwood let it pass.

  “Good eye, good eye,” Seth said.

  He threw the next ball. This one was right down the center of the strike zone. Elwood swung. The ball bounced through the infield, an easy ground ball.

  Seth stood behind Elwood. “Let’s work on that swing for a minute,” Seth said. They grasped the bat together. “You have a lot of power, Elwood. But your swing is not quite even. You’re hitting the top of the ball. That’s what makes it become a grounder.”

  Seth moved the bat to show what he meant.

  “Keep your swing even, and you’ll get the ball into the air.” They swung together again. “It’ll take a lot of practice, but you’ll get it.”

  Rachel relaxed on her bench. The team seemed to be interested in what Seth had to say. But Simon was still missing. Joe is probably right, Rachel thought. Why would Simon come to play baseball after Jim had given him a black eye?

  When she turned back to the boys, she saw that it was Tad’s turn to bat. He grasped the bat at the very bottom and stood poised with his arms over the plate. Seth threw the pitch. Tad swung and hit the ball on the center of the bat. It was a line drive that lost its energy and plopped to the ground at second base.

  “Good swing,” Seth said. “Nice and even. But try stepping back from the plate a little bit. Then you can hit the ball with the end of the bat. It will have a lot more power and go farther.”

  Seth showed Tad where to stand then pitched again. This time, Tad swung and belted the ball into right field. The team whooped its encouragement, and Rachel cheered, too.

  In right field, Sam scooped up the ball and threw it back to Seth on the pitcher’s mound. Tad had run safely to second base—something that almost never happened to Tad.

  Rachel spotted Simon leaning against the fence. She waved and caught Sam’s eye then pointed toward Simon. Sam started to wave to Simon and seemed about to call him over. Then he apparently changed his mind. Rachel nodded to herself. If Simon wanted to play baseball, all he had to do was join the team.