“Probably,” George said slowly, pronouncing each syllable. “We thought,” and he said it more to Tante Etta than to Rosie, “it was enemy aliens being rounded up.”
A-L-I-E-N, Rosie spelled to herself. Her parents weren’t aliens!
“ ‘Alien’ means people who aren’t citizens,” Tante Etta explained, “and have come from countries that are now our enemies.”
“But Mama and Papa …”
“I know,” Tante Etta said, “they are citizens.” She chewed her lower lip, looking extremely upset now.
“As soon as Mama and Papa tell them they are American citizens, they’ll let them go, right?” Rosie said.
Tante Etta smiled and nodded, but Rosie didn’t believe that smile for a minute.
“For now, you must come with me!” Tante Etta said. “We will pack …”
“No, oh no! We can’t leave here! What if Mama and Papa come back and we are gone? They will be so frightened. We have to stay here, Tante Etta, we must,” Rosie said. She was willing to be brave enough to stay on her own if Tante Etta wouldn’t agree to stay with them.
“I think, Rosie, that it would be better if you called me simply ‘Etta’ or ‘Aunt,’ ” Tante suggested.
Rosie started to ask why, but the words didn’t even make it to her lips before the answer came like a bolt of lightning, just like in cartoons. Tante was a German word—a Nazi word.
Aunt Etta pulled George aside to talk, motioning with one finger for Rosie to wait.
Rosie watched as George shrugged and returned to the car. Aunt Etta moved out of the way and waved as he backed down the driveway.
“George is going to pick up some things I might need, staying here with you, and some groceries—if he can find any,” Aunt Etta said, rejoining Rosie and Freddie. “Let’s go inside and we will plan a celebration for when your mama and papa arrive home.”
Chapter 9
Most of that night, Rosie laid awake, thinking only the worst thoughts—that her parents were never coming back. That they might be … dead. Isn’t that what happened to people believed to be traitors? It hadn’t helped that she’d read the newspaper that George left behind when he returned with Aunt Etta’s clothes. Aunt Etta had hidden the newspaper in one of the food cabinets, but Rosie had easily found it.
The news was depressing. Thousands had been killed in the bombing, and not only soldiers. The articles mentioned martial law over and over, but Rosie still wasn’t sure what that was. And nowhere did it mention that people—Germans—were being taken from their homes and detained.
When she finally fell asleep, Rosie dreamed she had to evacuate—even in her dream she spelled E-V-A-C-U-A-T-E—and take only one bag. The nightmarish part was that time was ticking away and she couldn’t decide what to pack. It was barely light when she startled awake, thoughts of what to pack still running through her mind.
Rosie sat up and listened. It was too quiet. She tiptoed to her parents’ bedroom and saw that the bedclothes were undisturbed. Mama and Papa had not returned. Rosie crept down the stairs. Perhaps they were in the kitchen waiting to surprise her.
Aunt Etta sat at the kitchen table, alone, smoking a cigarette and painting her fingernails with red polish. She quickly stubbed out the cigarette when Rosie entered the kitchen.
Mama hated it when people smoked in the house and Aunt Etta knew it. But Rosie said nothing. Aunt Etta looked exhausted, with dark rings around her usually bright eyes. She had covered her hair with a scarf and her face was clean of any make-up. Rosie couldn’t ever remember seeing her without her red lipstick. But her aunt held up the red-tipped nail polish brush. “Shall we paint your nails too?” she asked. “It always makes me feel better to have new nail polish.”
Rosie nodded and laid her hand flat on the table in front of Aunt Etta. Mama said Rosie was too young to wear nail polish.
“Now let’s do our toes,” said Aunt Etta.
Rosie lifted her foot to Aunt Etta’s knee and let her brush the polish on each toe. She admired her fingers as her aunt painted first Rosie’s toes, then her own.
“We match!” said Aunt Etta, holding out her own feet next to Rosie’s.
“They’re so pretty and bright!” Rosie couldn’t stop looking at her nails. She had always wanted to have nails like Aunt Etta’s.
Aunt Etta opened her purse. “Lipstick?” She held up a shiny gold tube.
Rosie nodded. Mama didn’t allow lipstick either.
Aunt Etta applied Rosie’s lipstick, and then her own. “I feel better,” she said, looking in her compact mirror. She turned it around and Rosie looked at herself.
She rubbed her lips together as she’d seen her mama and aunt do and then ran her tongue over her lips. They felt slick and waxy and to Rosie’s surprise, the lipstick had no taste. The red color made it look like it should taste like sweet cherries.
“Oooh! You look like you should be in high school at least,” Aunt Etta said, making Rosie giggle.
“It takes more than nail polish and lipstick to do that,” said Rosie, although the make-up did make her feel more grown-up. And the war was making her feel like she had to be more grown-up.
“Seventh grade, then,” said her aunt. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“No thank you.” Rosie sat across from her aunt. “Any word?”
“George asked at the newspaper and spoke to some of his contacts. Because of the island being under martial law, there have been arrests, mostly Japanese community leaders, but some folks of German or Italian backgrounds that the government thinks might be a threat as well. Japan, Germany, and Italy are all in this war.” Aunt Etta leaned across the table and spoke very seriously to Rosie, making her feeling of being grown-up more real.
Rosie knew all too well the world was at war. But there was much she didn’t understand. “I keep reading Hawaii is under martial law. But I don’t know what that means,” she said.
“Basically, it means that the military is in charge.”
“So, it’s the military who took Mama and Papa?” Rosie was still confused because the men wore suits, not uniforms. “Did they take them because of their German name? Do they, whoever they are, truly think that Mama and Papa are …” Rosie hesitated, “Nazis?”
“I don’t know what they are thinking, sweetheart. I find it as ridiculous as you do, but evidently they believe they have some reason …”
“No! There is no reason,” Rosie said. Tears threatened again. “George needs to do something.”
“He is trying to find out what he can, like where your parents are being held, first of all,” said Aunt Etta.
“Tell him thank you, please,” Rosie said. “What about Tante—I mean, Aunt Yvonne?”
“Uncle Charles isn’t German and his family is very prominent on Oahu. The Bell family has lived here for generations. She is no doubt safe. I tried to call her, too, but I can’t get through.”
“But your family, the Rauschlings, have been here forever, too! You know that. And I thought that in America, people couldn’t be arrested for no reason, and that the government couldn’t just walk into your house and take whatever they wanted,” said Rosie, feeling angry. “We studied the Constitution in school.”
“It’s different days now. We are at war, and like I said, the Army is making all the rules,” Aunt Etta explained. “That can happen in times of war.”
Rosie tried to make sense of what she was hearing her aunt say, but all she ended with was that war wasn’t good for her family.
Aunt Etta’s next words were drowned out by the sound of a car pulling up to the house. “George,” Aunt Etta said, blushing slightly and smiling broadly. She hurried to the screen door, but instead of opening it, she froze, staring at the driveway.
“Is it Mama and Papa?” Rosie asked, running to her aunt’s side. She felt cold all over when she recognized the car and the man standing beside it. It was the government man who had taken Mama away.
Rosie pushed at Aunt Etta. “Quick!” she said, “R
un! Get away. Hide! Do something!” Rosie tried to close the door to lock it.
But Aunt Etta could not be moved. She had turned an ugly shade of pale.
Rosie turned back around and the man was on the other side of the screen door.
“Miss Rauschling?” he asked, “Marietta Rauschling?”
Aunt Etta nodded, but said nothing.
“No!” Rosie shouted at the man, “That’s not her name. This is our … nurse, staying with us because you took our mama away.”
Aunt Etta placed her hand on Rosie’s head. “Shh! Darling, don’t tell lies.”
Lies! Somebody had told lies already. Why else would her family be taken away?
Freddie had crept down the stairs to the door and stood to the side.
“Aunt Etta, no! You can’t go, too.” Rosie turned to the man in the doorway, “Where are you taking my aunt? What are you going to do with her? Where is my Mama? Is she alive? Just tell me if my mama is alive,” she begged.
“We have a few questions for you, Miss Rauschling, that’s all,” the man said as he pulled the screen door open and took hold of Aunt Etta’s arm.
“Rosie, you must call Aunt Yvonne when you can get through. And George. Or have Yvonne call George. And you must take care of Freddie and yourself. I’m sure that I will return soon.” She pulled Rosie to her and kissed the top of her head, then grabbed Freddie and gave him a tight hug. She looked hard at the man waiting to take her away. “After all,” she said, squaring her shoulders, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“No!” Rosie shouted, following as Aunt Etta was led to the car. She grabbed her aunt around the waist and held on. “Don’t go, please don’t leave us here. Please. I’m scared.”
The man gently peeled Rosie off her aunt.
Rosie collapsed on the ground. “Don’t go!” she yelled after the car. “Please don’t go!” she called, sobbing. Rosie remained on the ground even after the car disappeared, crying as she pulled up handfuls of grass. They were alone again.
Chapter 10
“Rosie?” She felt Freddie’s hand on her shoulder.
Rosie couldn’t move; her sadness was too heavy. It was hard to be brave when she felt all alone.
“The phone is working. I checked. Let’s go call Tante—I mean, Aunt Yvonne,” he said. His face was tear-streaked and his nose ran. He rubbed the back of his hand across his face, smearing wetness all over.
Aunt Yvonne. Their older, proper aunt. She lived in a big house in Honolulu and entertained her bridge club with stale cake and tea. Mama had gone once or twice when they needed another player, but she never had anything good to say about the parties. Rosie wanted Aunt Etta if she couldn’t have Mama. She couldn’t remember Aunt Yvonne ever giving them a hug or doing anything but telling them NOT to do something.
“Rosie?” Freddie said again. “Aunt Etta made us some breakfast. I ate mine but yours is still on the table.”
“I’ll come inside in a minute,” Rosie said, wiping her face. She needed some time to gather herself before she called Aunt Yvonne.
Freddie nodded and walked to the porch, where he sat with his head resting on his knees.
Rosie knew that Aunt Yvonne would not come to their house to stay with them. They would have to go into town and stay at her most proper home. She half-hoped the phone wouldn’t work as she slowly walked inside. Freddie looked so sad, she paused and gave him a quick hug. He hugged her back, tightly, a big change from the way he had been before it was just the two of them. Before the bombing that started the war. She guessed that was the way time would be measured for her going forward: before the war and after the war. When she had a family, and when she was on her own.
The phone buzzed in her ear as she lifted it, and the operator came on asking for the number. Rosie recited Aunt Yvonne’s number and listened to the phone ring.
“Hello?” her aunt answered.
“It’s me, Rosie.”
“Hello, dear. How are you and Greta? Freddie? Henry?”
Rosie swallowed a sob at the mention of her mother and father. “Mama and Papa were taken away. At least we think Papa was. He went to work and he hasn’t come back. Men came and took Mama, and this morning they took Aunt Etta.”
Silence met Rosie’s report of what had been happening at their house.
“All of them,” Aunt Yvonne finally said, “taken?”
Rosie nodded, and then realized her aunt couldn’t possibly see her. “Yes,” she said, then added, “ma’am.”
“Who is taking care of you and Freddie? One of the teachers from the kindergarten?”
“No, no one,” Rosie said. “Aunt Etta said to call you. And she wants you to call George at the newspaper to tell him what happened, too.”
“She is still dating that Jewish man?” Aunt Yvonne said. “Heavens. What to do, what to do,” she mumbled. “It’s all happening again.”
Rosie had no idea what her aunt was talking about. What was happening again? She took a deep breath. “Aunt Yvonne, would you come out here and stay with us until Mama and Papa come back?”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I have far too many responsibilities here, my dear. But, I suppose, yes, I guess I must. You and Freddie must stay here. You certainly cannot stay alone in the valley. Pack a few things, for surely it won’t be long once they find out there is no reason to detain your father and mother. Rainer will drive out and pick you up. You hear me, Roselie? Be ready and he will come in the car to bring you here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Rosie replied, not at all happy with her aunt’s solution to their problem.
“I will see you soon, then. I must prepare.” The phone clicked and her aunt was gone.
Rosie sat at the table and twirled the plate of cinnamon toast her Aunt Etta had made for her breakfast. She took a bite and although she swallowed hard, it stuck in her throat. “Freddie, are you still hungry?” she called out the door.
“For what?” he asked, coming inside.
“I’m not really hungry this morning.” She held out her cinnamon toast.
“Did you talk to Aunt Yvonne?” Freddie asked, his mouth stuffed with toast.
“She’s sending Rainer to pick us up. So, pack whatever you think you will need.”
Freddie made a face, probably because of their cousin Rainer. He had never been very nice to them, and there was no reason to believe he would start now.
Rosie cleaned Kitty’s food and water bowls and packed them with her cat food. Kitty had been curled on her bed the last time she saw her. She’d bring the cat downstairs but make her stay inside so she would be easy to find when Rainer arrived.
Upstairs, Rosie looked for a suitcase but decided they didn’t need anything that big. “Use your schoolbag to pack your stuff,” she called downstairs to Freddie. “And you’d better come on up and pick out what you want to take. You know Rainer will be mad if we aren’t ready. He may make us go with him whether we’re ready or not.”
At that, Freddie clattered up the steps.
Rosie picked out three books from her Nancy Drew series, hoping she wouldn’t be away from home any longer than it would take her to read them. She sat on the bed and stared at the mysteries. Here she was right in the middle of the biggest mystery of her life—where were her parents? Would Nancy wait to see what happened if Carson Drew was dragged off by a man in a black suit? Would Nancy sit around and wonder why her mama and papa had disappeared or would she investigate? Maybe she should take a clue from Nancy instead of waiting to see what everyone else might do. It would be easier once she made it to Aunt Yvonne’s house in the middle of town. As much as she loved living at the edge of town, it wasn’t always the most convenient place.
Rosie tucked the books in her bag along with clean underwear, a clean dress, her hairbrush, ribbons, toothbrush, and shoes. She figured Aunt Yvonne would make her wear shoes. Giving one more look around her bedroom, she carried her bag to the kitchen to wait.
And wait. And wait.
“Can’t I pl
ease go outside?” Freddie begged over and over. Tired of hearing him, Rosie finally said yes but cautioned him about wandering away.
She carried their schoolbags and Kitty’s food outside to the porch. Rosie stared at the road and willed her cousin to appear, but only one bicycler rode by the house.
Finally, a car horn honked from the driveway.
Rosie saw her cousin Rainer with a girl sitting beside him—really close beside him. They were kissing. Yuck.
Tucking Kitty under her arm, she pulled the door shut behind her and locked it, then placed the key on the ledge under the porch.
Freddie had already picked up his bag, climbed into the car, and was hanging over the front seat, talking to Rainer and the girl.
Rosie hoisted her bag over her shoulder and grabbed the bag with Kitty’s food and bowls.
“Hey!” Rainer leaned out the car window. “You aren’t taking that cat with you.”
“I can’t leave her here alone!” Rosie said, tears threatening once again.
“Mom would have a fit if you brought that thing into her house,” Rainer said. He shook his head. “No, you can’t bring it.” He opened the car door, took Kitty from Rosie and threw her to the ground.
“Stop! You’ll hurt her.” Rosie leaned down and talked softly to her cat. “It won’t be long, Kitty, and I will leave plenty of food and some water.”
Rosie dug the key out of the hiding place and went back inside. She found two of Mama’s biggest bowls in the cabinet and filled them with food and water. She carried the water carefully and placed it under the porch where she knew Kitty liked to rest. After she placed the food bowl near the water, she gave Kitty a last hug and relocked the door.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Rainer yelled.
Rosie settled in the back seat beside Freddie and wished she had hidden Kitty in her schoolbag. She would a thousand times rather have her cat with her than clean clothes. But it was too late now.
“Maybe we could stop by the Palus and ask them to check on Kitty,” Rosie suggested.
Different Days Page 5