Different Days

by Vicki Berger Erwin

  Rainer ignored her. “This is Lily,” he said, his arm around the girl with long dark hair and dark skin. “She’s my secret, meaning do not mention you saw me with a girl in the car to Mom. Because if you do, I will make sure you end up in an orphanage where you belong. Think about that while we drive Lily home.”

  O-R-P-H-A-N-A-G-E. Rainer said mean things so often, Rosie knew not to pay attention to them.

  Rosie steeled herself for whatever was to come. She was dry-eyed as she watched Kitty sitting on the back porch, cleaning her face, until she became the tiniest of tiny orange dots. No Mama, no Papa, no Kitty, and no more tears.

  Chapter 11

  “There are some rules that the two of you will need to follow,” Aunt Yvonne announced before Rosie and Freddie had stepped completely inside the house.

  Rosie stared at the soft blue rug with large flowers woven into it that covered the hall floor. She felt Freddie slip his hand into hers.

  “First, when I tell you to be ready at a certain time, you need to be ready. I had several things on the schedule for Rainer to do today but since he had to wait for you to be ready to come with him, those things will have to be added to tomorrow’s schedule. This is a very busy household.”

  Rosie glared at Rainer, leaning against the wall smirking at the two of them. That they weren’t ready to leave was his excuse for being gone so long, when the truth was he had been with his secret girlfriend.

  “Second, and this is very important, you are not to mention to anyone where your parents are. It’s a scandal to have my sisters incarcerated. We will say you are …” Aunt Yvonne paused and looked away, “refugees that we have taken in.”

  Rosie was speechless. She hadn’t expected alohas or mountains of leis from Aunt Yvonne, but she also didn’t expect her own aunt to deny that she was family.

  Aunt Yvonne continued, “We need to be cautious. We don’t know if someone is watching us.”

  Watching them? Rosie thought her aunt was letting her imagination—I-M-A-G-I-N-A-T-I-O-N—get the best of her.

  “And finally, I know you run amuck on that property in the middle of nowhere, but here you must stay close by. Where are your shoes?”

  Rosie curled her toes and pressed her feet together. “In my bag,” she admitted.

  Aunt Yvonne shook her head. “We wear shoes on our feet in Honolulu, not nail polish. There is a bottle of remover in my bathroom. Please take it off. Now.”

  Rosie covered one of her bare feet with the other. If Aunt Yvonne said they would wear shoes, Rosie figured they would wear shoes.

  “Uncle Charles is trying to find out what has happened to your parents. Lord knows he has enough else to do! We aren’t at all sure we can do anything, but he will try,” Aunt Yvonne said more gently. “Now, you will have to share a room, so go upstairs with Rainer and clean up before supper. That includes removing that hideous nail polish.” She directed her last remark at Rosie before disappearing into the shadows of the room to the left of the hallway.

  “Aunt Yvonne!” Rosie called after her.

  “What is it?” her aunt replied but did not return.

  Speaking into the shadows, Rosie said, “Rainer said I couldn’t bring my cat with me. Can’t I please have Kitty here? She’s never had to be on her own before.”

  “Rosie, we have no place for a cat here. They shed all over and if we tried to leave her outside, she would run away. If your parents aren’t back in a few days, I will make sure someone checks on the cat.”

  “That would be me,” Rainer said under his breath, frowning at Rosie.

  “Aunt Yvonne, please …”

  “No. I can’t take on one more responsibility. No cats,” Aunt Yvonne said shrilly and Rosie heard her footsteps fade as she walked deeper into the house.

  Rosie felt tears burn, but willed herself not to cry. It did no good and she wouldn’t let her aunt see her weakness.

  “C’mon,” Rainer took the stairs two at a time while Rosie and Freddie followed slowly, Freddie still holding tightly to Rosie’s hand.

  Rainer threw open a door at the end of the hall. “This is it. Believe me, you’d better follow all the rules Mom set out if you don’t want to go to the you-know-where.”

  “I don’t want to go to an orphanist,” Freddie whispered.

  “Aunt Yvonne won’t make us go anyplace. And Rainer is just trying to scare us.” Rosie stared hard at her cousin. “We’ll stay right here until Mama and Papa come for us.”

  “This is your bathroom and this is mine.” Rainer pointed at doors on opposite sides of the hallway.

  Rosie leaned around Rainer to peek inside his room. She couldn’t believe what was hanging on his wall. “Do you go to Punahou?” She stepped across the threshold to look more closely at the pennant hanging over his desk.

  Rainer blocked Rosie from coming all the way into his room. “Yeah, I do. So what?”

  Rosie swallowed hard. “I’m applying to go there next year,” she said. Her enthusiasm for the school dampened slightly, knowing her cousin attended. Were all the students like him? She wouldn’t have a chance to find out if Mama and Papa didn’t return to finish the application. Why did the war complicate life so?

  “Good luck,” Rainer said, then he slammed his door.

  Rosie glared at Rainer’s door as she pushed Freddie into the room they would share. White walls, a white chenille bedspread with a big pineapple design in the middle, a white rug beside the bed covering the shiny wood floor, and a low bureau against the wall. The room was very small and very dark. Rosie could barely scoot between the bureau and the bed to get to the window to open the shade. When light streamed in, she realized Aunt Yvonne had already hung extra dark shades required for blackouts. At least that meant she could have a light and read at night.

  The room overlooked the roof of the back porch and the patch of green grass that grew past the porch, surrounded by banks of brightly colored flowers. Mama would know the names of every one. Love of gardening was the one thing she and Aunt Yvonne shared.

  Freddie sat on the opposite edge of the bed, holding his schoolbag. “I didn’t bring any shoes,” he said, tears shining in his eyes.

  “Aunt Yvonne will have to give in on her rule or take you to buy a pair,” Rosie said with a shrug.

  “I’m afraid to tell her,” Freddie admitted.

  “Don’t be. It’s a silly rule. We never wear shoes at home.” Rosie didn’t feel as sure of her aunt’s acceptance of their bare feet as her words sounded. “I won’t wear shoes either, so she’ll have to be mad at both of us. Okay?” It was a battle, a small battle, she would fight for her brother. She also wasn’t ready to give up her fight for Kitty.

  Freddie answered slowly, “Okay. I guess. At least then she’ll send both of us to the orphanist.”

  “Orphanage,” Rosie corrected him. “But don’t listen to Rainer. He’s a bully.”

  Freddie shrugged.

  “It will be all right,” Rosie said, reaching across the bed to touch her brother’s shoulder. And again her words sounded much more confident than Rosie felt.

  Chapter 12

  The days dragged by until a week had passed since they had arrived at their aunt’s house. Aunt Yvonne had to give in on her must-wear-shoes rule since Freddie had none, but she did not budge on letting them leave the house beyond the backyard—at least when she was home. The yard and house were plenty big enough for Freddie to play his never-ending game of war, but Rosie soon tired of the limits and of war, play or otherwise.

  She hoped that one of Freddie’s Christmas presents would be the little Army men he talked about all the time. She felt sad every time she saw him gather sticks and rocks to use as soldiers. And she hoped one of her gifts would be a new journal. Rosie couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to pack hers. Actually, Rosie hoped she, or at least Freddie, would have any kind of gift.

  And, she missed her friends, especially Leilani. Not being able to see and talk to her best friend made everything harder. Aunt Yvonn
e had put the telephone off-limits to keep the line open for “important” calls, so she couldn’t call her. The only good thing about the rule was that it applied to Rainer, too.

  And what if Leilani was still mad at her? They hadn’t had a chance to work things out before she had to leave. Rosie hated the feeling that there was something unfinished between them.

  Together she and Leilani could surely figure out what to do to bring Mama and Papa home. Or at least figure out why they’d been taken. No one yet, including Rosie herself, had been able to come up with that answer.

  She could write to her friend.

  Rosie tiptoed into her aunt’s bedroom and found stationery—S-T-A-T-I-O-N-E-R-Y—and an envelope in the desk. She sat down, checking first to make sure no one else was upstairs, and quickly wrote Leilani a note.

  Dear Leilani,

  We are staying with our Aunt Yvonne. Mama, Papa, and Aunt Etta were taken away for questions and I don’t know where they are now! I wish you were here to help me figure out all the questions I have—where? Why? When will they return? We could be like Nancy Drew! I hope we will be home soon, but maybe Auntie Palu could bring you here to see us.

  I miss you so much.

  Aloha, Rosie

  Rosie folded the letter and tucked it in the envelope, deciding not to say anything about Leilani being mad at her. She was probably over it by now. At least Rosie hoped so. She addressed the envelope, then searched for a postage stamp. Nothing. She would have to ask Aunt Yvonne.

  Later that afternoon when her aunt appeared, Rosie handed her the letter and asked if she would please mail it. Aunt Yvonne put it into her purse with a sigh.

  “Rosie! Freddie!” Aunt Yvonne called for them later the same day.

  Rosie came downstairs, wondering what her aunt needed now. Freddie was already waiting in the hallway.

  “We have to register the two of you for identification cards. And pick up your gas masks. Once we have them, you must carry them with you at all times. Come. Now.” Aunt Yvonne held the door open as they filed out of the house and climbed into the car.

  When Aunt Yvonne parked the car in front of the local school, she turned around. “Remember,” she said, “you are refugees we have taken in due to the war.”

  The thought that her own family didn’t want to claim her as kin made Rosie sad. But she had come to expect little out of Aunt Yvonne.

  The woman who registered them, Mrs. Smith, was a friend of her aunt’s who taught at the school.

  Mrs. Smith thought it lovely of Aunt Yvonne to take in refugees! Rosie wanted to throw up.

  “When do you think school will resume?” Aunt Yvonne asked the teacher as she filled out the cards for her “refugees.” Rosie thought she heard what sounded like desperation in her aunt’s voice.

  “They’ve assigned all teachers and school personnel to work issuing identification cards,” Mrs. Smith said, “and that is a big job. I would expect sometime after the holidays.” Mrs. Smith did not look happy that school would start up again that soon.

  “Not till next year?” Aunt Yvonne sounded equally unhappy at the date.

  Rosie realized, looking around the gym, if they stayed with Aunt Yvonne, she and Freddie would attend this new school, where she knew no one.

  “Can you mail my letter now?” Rosie asked as they returned to the car.

  “I will send it with Uncle Charles when he goes to work tomorrow. This day has worn me out,” Aunt Yvonne said.

  Rosie and Freddie exchanged looks. Rosie hadn’t seen her aunt do anything all day besides sit and read magazines.

  The day after they received their gas masks and identification cards, Rosie came downstairs to find only the hired girl, Kealani, in the kitchen. It was so strange to have someone cleaning up after them and always hovering about. Rosie was used to making her own bed and helping Mama with other chores. Aunt Yvonne made sure to mention they would have to pay Kealani more for all the extra work Rosie and Freddie made. Rosie realized, listening to Aunt Yvonne, that Rainer came by his ability to make people feel bad with words naturally.

  Kealani was bent over a square of cloth stretched tightly in a wooden hoop. She jumped up and dropped the square behind her onto the chair where she had been sitting.

  “Is that a quilt?” Rosie asked, reaching around the young girl and picking up her work.

  “I have finished the cleaning and am waiting for the washing to end,” Kealani said.

  “I don’t care if you’re quilting. This is pretty.” Rosie held up the square with a pink flower design in the middle. “My mama was working on a Hawaiian quilt.”

  “Do you quilt, too?” Kealani looked interested in her for the first time since they’d arrived, Rosie thought.

  “Oh, no.” Rosie shook her head.

  “But you could. You should!”

  Rosie turned Kealani’s quilt square around looking at it from every side. “It’s too hard.”

  “They aren’t all this complicated.” This quilt square was sprays of flowers, very intricate, and Kealani’s stitches were tiny, tiny the way Auntie Palu always stressed they should be. “I could teach you, if you want. And, it would give you something to do besides sit around and worry about your parents.”

  “How do you know that’s all I do?” Rosie asked. She read, she pulled weeds, and when she could find paper, she wrote—journal entries and lists of spelling words from a dictionary she’d found on a shelf in the living room.

  “I notice more that goes on in this house than you might imagine,” said Kealani. “And right now, I feel the loneliness and unhappiness the war brings. I will bring you fabric and teach you.” She took back her quilt square and sat down, stitching once again. “Your breakfast is on the counter,” she added.

  “Where’s Aunt Yvonne?” Rosie asked as she shoved in bites of the pineapple, fish, and fried rice dish that Kealani had prepared. It was so much better than the cooked rice cereal that Aunt Yvonne usually served. “Aunt Yvonne?” she asked again.

  “All day gone,” the girl answered. She smiled broadly.

  Rosie glanced out the window and it was another blue sky Hawaii day, perfect for what she had in mind. She quickly ate the remainder of her breakfast and rushed upstairs.

  She brushed her hair and put on her shoes. Peeking around the corner of the doorway, Rosie made sure Rainer was also gone. She tiptoed into his room and headed straight for the brightly painted mug on his bureau. She’d seen him drop change into the mug each evening when he came home. She reached inside and felt around the bottom, pulling out several coins. She would need money for the streetcar.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  Rosie whirled around, startled. It was Freddie.

  “Shh, I’m going to try to find out something about where Mama and Papa are,” she whispered, checking over her brother’s shoulder into the hallway.

  “I want to help,” said Freddie.

  Rosie shook her head and started to push past her brother.

  “Look, Rosie, Rainer has a ukulele. I haven’t played one in so long.” Freddie picked up the small stringed instrument off the bureau top.

  “You? Play?” Rosie laughed.

  “I can,” said Freddie.

  “Still you should ask before you take that,” Rosie warned.

  “Did you ask if you could take that money?” He ran his fingers across the strings and released music.

  “It’s different,” Rosie tried to explain.

  Freddie carried the ukulele into their bedroom and sat on the bed, strumming it to make different sounds.

  “Make sure you put it back before Rainer or Aunt Yvonne see it,” said Rosie. “And I will be back before then, too.” She ran lightly down the stairs and slipped out the front door.

  Chapter 13

  Even though Christmas was coming, there were no trees in the windows of the homes she passed. The boat from the mainland carrying Christmas trees had never arrived in Hawaii so people were either doing without or hanging decorations from cocon
ut or palm fronds. She missed the traditional holiday cheer but knew most people, including herself, weren’t feeling very cheery.

  Rosie had seen the streetcar pass at the end of Aunt Yvonne’s street many times as she sat and watched out the window, waiting and hoping for her parents to come back. She had even ridden the streetcar to visit her aunt with her mama when the two of them were on better terms. She ran when she heard the car coming and climbed on board, dropping change into the container beside the driver.

  Sitting stiffly and staring straight ahead, Rosie had the strange feeling that her aunt or Rainer might pass the streetcar and see her riding away. She decided not to care.

  The streetcar reached King Street, the heart of shopping in Honolulu, and Rosie hopped off the bus. She took a few minutes to look around. In earlier Decembers, her family had made a special trip to see the holiday decorations, but this year it would be a wasted trip. A few shops had bells or glass Christmas balls hanging, but more shocking to see was the tape across every window. To keep them from breaking in case more bombs were dropped? Some inventive storekeepers had made the tape into decorations—a V for victory, or bells, or wreaths. There were also sandbags piled against buildings, narrowing the sidewalks. The changes combined to make Rosie feel like she was in a place she’d never been.

  Rosie slowly turned down the side street where her father’s radio shop was located, nervous about what she might find. Pausing, she pictured Papa behind the counter, dusting off the shiny cases and running his hand over their smooth wood. Despite all the people walking past, Rosie was filled to bursting with the loneliness of missing Mama and Papa. Even the cutout of a radio that hung over the sidewalk marking the shop’s door appeared lonely.

  Rosie turned the doorknob. The door was locked. She stepped closer to the window and pressed her face against the glass. The shelves were empty.

  No Papa. No radios. And those men had taken all the radios from their home as well. Rosie realized with a start that the radios must be at least part of the reason her parents had been taken away.