Secrets of the Red Box

by Vickie Hall

  “Edna. But you probably knew that from my uniform.”

  “Thanks again, Edna.”

  ///////

  Bonnie made her way up the apartment stairs and dropped the heavy packages beside the door. She took out her key and unlocked the door, then inched it open, peering inside for the cat. Bonnie saw her curled up in the chair. She smiled as the kitten blinked its sleepy eyes, yawned, and stretched its front paws out full length, the tiny claws extending out and back.

  Bonnie scooted everything inside and closed the door. Baby Girl jumped from the chair and trotted toward her, meowing a high-pitched greeting. Bonnie picked her up and snuggled the cat against her face. “I have a surprise for you,” she murmured. “Yes, I do. But first, let’s get you some food.”

  Bonnie busied herself with her purchases as the kitten kept close to her feet, chasing her steps, pouncing on her shoes whenever she stood still. Bonnie laughed at Baby Girl’s antics and measured out some of the kibble into the new bowl. She set the bowl on the kitchen floor and waited to see what the kitten would do. “Give it a try,” Bonnie coaxed.

  Baby Girl worked her nose over the dry food and took one of the pellets into her mouth. She immediately crunched it up and swallowed, then went for another. Bonnie put a bowl of water beside the food, then left to attend to the litter box while her kitten ate.

  Bonnie changed into a robe and stretched out across the living room floor. She lay on her side and called the kitten, the catnip mouse and ball at the ready. Baby Girl trotted over obediently and rammed the side of her face against Bonnie’s chin, already purring. Bonnie giggled and presented the mouse. Baby Girl jumped on it, her ears back, her eyes wide. She grasped it between her front paws, rolled onto her side, and kicked it with her hind feet. She got a wild look on her face and suddenly darted away, only to turn about, arch her back, and half gallop, half pounce toward the toy.

  Bonnie spent the better part of the evening playing with the kitten, watching her romp and chase until Baby Girl fell onto her side, her front legs stretched out before her. It was as if a switch had been thrown that shut the kitten off. Bonnie let out a laugh as Baby Girl’s lungs pumped to replenish her spent energy. The kitten let out a contented sigh and fell into a deep sleep. Bonnie couldn’t resist and slipped her hand beneath the animal, got to her feet, and sat in the chair. She held Baby Girl in her hand, resting it in her lap, the other hand gently stroking the kitten’s head.

  She’d never had anything to call her own, nothing that needed her for any reason. There was a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach, something that made her feel wanted. It seemed foolish that a kitten could do this to her. She wondered what it would have been like if she’d kept her baby. She would have had someone to need her then, wouldn’t she…someone she could watch over and care for and to keep her from feeling so alone. But it hadn’t been a baby she could keep. It would have been a mistake…

  Bonnie pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She couldn’t afford to dwell on such things. Nothing could ever change the past. No amount of wishing would ever undo what she had done. She’d pay for that decision the rest of her life, too. She’d never be able to get pregnant again, not after that butcher job of an abortion. That’s what the doctor told her after she was admitted to the hospital, after she’d bled for nearly two days, after she’d nearly died.

  Baby Girl opened her eyes and started her motor purring as she climbed up Bonnie’s chest to settle against her neck. The kitten reached out and placed a tiny paw on Bonnie’s face and left it there as if to make sure she was hers. Tears swelled in Bonnie’s eyes and slid down her cheeks. For the first time in her life, she had something of her own to love.

  Chapter 12

  Thursday morning, Bonnie watched the hands on the clock drag through the hours as if they were swimming against a tidal wave. When her lunch time finally arrived, she quickly clocked out and went to the nearest pay phone. She fumbled through her handbag for the calling card from Mr. Hammond. Her fingers were a little shaky as she dropped the coin into the slot and dialed the number.

  “Harry. How can I help you?”

  “Um, Mr. Hammond?”

  “Yes, go ahead.”

  Bonnie swallowed back her nervousness and tried to sound confident. “Yes, Mr. Hammond, this

  is Bonnie Cooper. I applied for the operator position—”

  His voice went up in pitch as he spoke. “Oh, yes, Miss Cooper. I’m so glad you called. I’ve interviewed the other candidates, and I’m happy to say that we’ve decided to offer you the job.”

  Bonnie closed her eyes and put both hands to the receiver. “Really?” she breathed with relief. “Mr. Hammond, thank you so much. I promise I’ll do a good job—”

  “I’m sure you will, Miss Cooper. That’s why I chose you over the others. Now, when can you start?”

  “When would you like me to start?”

  “Well, to be honest, if it wouldn’t be an imposition on your current employer, I’d like to have you begin on Monday.”

  “This Monday?” Bonnie’s mind whirled as she thought about telling Mrs. Kemp. “Yes, I’m certain Monday will be fine.”

  Mr. Hammond cleared his throat. “Now as to your wages, you’ll start at ninety cents an hour, with a five-cent increase after ninety days if you prove yourself—”

  “Ninety cents!” Bonnie exclaimed. She only made seventy-five cents at the Rose Building. “Mr. Hammond, that’s very generous of you. Thank you!”

  There was a slight pause. “We believe in treating our employees well, Miss Cooper. You see, we run on the theory that if you’re treated well, you will work harder in return.”

  “Yes, and I will, Mr. Hammond.”

  “Good. I’ll see you next week then, Miss Cooper. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.” Bonnie returned the receiver to the hook and clasped a hand to her throat. She could feel her heart racing with anticipation as she left the phone booth. Now she was faced with the task of telling Mrs. Kemp. She decided she’d tell her tomorrow at the end of the day so she wouldn’t have to hear too much of Mrs. Kemp’s derision—at least, that’s what she expected from her. At any rate, it didn’t matter what Mrs. Kemp thought or did. Bonnie had a new job and a fresh start. And this time, she was going to be more careful.

  Bonnie went to Woolworth’s on the chance that Christine would be there. As she wound her way toward the luncheonette, she saw her sitting alone at the counter. She tapped Christine on the shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you today,” she said somewhat breathlessly.

  Christine swiveled toward her. “What happened?”

  Bonnie waited a moment as a man sitting beside Christine laid some coins on his check and got up to leave. Bonnie took the empty seat and grasped hold of Christine’s arm. “I got a new job,” she said.

  Christine’s eyes widened. “You did? Where?”

  “It’s a factory or warehouse or something like that. I start on Monday, and for more money!”

  Christine tried to smile and turned back to her chicken sandwich. “Good. I’m happy for you.”

  Bonnie didn’t know if Christine’s lack of enthusiasm for her was jealousy, disinterest, or just what. She let out a sigh. “Now don’t be like that,” she chided gently. “This is good for me. Can’t you at least be happy about that?”

  Christine lifted her sandwich, then put it back down on the plate. “I’m sorry.” She faced Bonnie and managed a smile. “Sure, I’m happy for you. And you’re right—it’s probably best to get away from Mr. Warsoff.”

  Bonnie’s face grew serious. “Has he said anything?”

  Christine tugged on the crust of her bread. “No, not really. But he, well, he…” “What?” Bonnie asked, waving the waitress away. “He what, Christine?”

  Christine lowered her gaze, and then her mouth drew into a hard line. “He asked me for a drink last night.”

  Bonnie’s eyes flew wide. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You went
, didn’t you?”

  Christine snorted and shook her head. “No, I didn’t go with him. He’s hurt and just looking for the nearest thing in a dress to make him feel better. I’m not going out with him under those circumstances…not on the rebound.”

  “But it’s what you were hoping for, wasn’t it?” Bonnie countered. “Just because he wasn’t right for me doesn’t mean—”

  Christine held up her hand. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said. “I’m waiting for Joe. And after seeing what happened with you, you know, dating someone from work, well, I decided it probably wasn’t a good idea. Too many complications if things don’t…well, work out.”

  Bonnie reached over to Christine’s plate and snagged a potato chip. She munched on it as she thought. “You’re probably right about that. I know I feel foolish about it now. And believe me, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m not getting involved with anyone at my new job, that’s for sure.”

  Christine pushed her half-eaten sandwich toward Bonnie. “You can finish it if you want,” she said. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  Bonnie shrugged and picked up the sandwich. “I start on Monday. Now all I have to do is tell Mrs. Kemp.” Christine didn’t say anything. She sipped on her coffee, and Bonnie reached for her arm. “Now don’t be that way, Christine. We’ll see each other.”

  “I know,” she said with a feeble smile. “We will.”

  “You know, I have you to thank for getting me a job—”

  “I didn’t get you a job—you got it yourself. All I did was tell you about an opportunity.”

  “Okay, maybe so. But I’m still thankful. Iwas new in town and didn’t know what I was going to do next…”

  Christine smiled and placed her hand on Bonnie’s arm. “I don’t have many friends, Bonnie. You might not believe this, but I’m sort of shy. You know that day I came to your table? The day we met?” She paused and looked into her coffee cup. “That was a real step for me. I usually ate lunch alone.”

  “So what made that day different?” Bonnie was curious now.

  Christine raised a shoulder, let it fall. “I don’t know. You looked a little lost, I guess. Maybe even a little afraid. You looked like you needed a friend.”

  Bonnie took a bite of the sandwich. She’d never really needed a friend—never needed anyone, really. Now, hearing Christine say it made her feel a little guilty for wishing her away, for wanting to make a clean break from the Rose Building and everything about it.

  Christine was right. She had been afraid, and she’d certainly felt lost. She remembered that day, sitting in the café with all the money in her purse, the tension still creeping up the back of her neck as if someone would jump out from the shadows to arrest her. She hadn’t realized until now just how comfortable she’d become, how she could go for days and not think about what had happened in San Diego. Maybe she was foolish to do so. Maybe she could get too comfortable, careless…and end up blindsided.

  ///////

  Corporal Glen Taggart was bivouacked outside La Havre, France, waiting to board a Liberty ship. He sat on the ground and smoothed out a piece of paper on his lap. He held the stub of a pencil between his thick fingers and thought about what he wanted to write. He was anxious to get stateside, but not so anxious to get back to Omaha. Nothing and no one waited for him there, except his father. He’d been living with his father right up to his enlistment, had worked at the stockyards, had lived an aimless existence. He had no direction in his life, no goals, nothing that seemed appealing enough to quit the stockyards. But that was going to change—it had to. He couldn’t go home and return to his old life…if he could call it a life. It was more of an existence, just a passage of time with nothing remarkable to distinguish the days. No, he couldn’t do that again.

  The war had changed him, had matured him in a way he hadn’t expected. He’d watched as people’s lives had been changed forever, soldiers around him and civilians, too. A villager might leave his wife and family in the morning and be dead before noon in a bombing raid. A woman could be walking her child to school, then be snuffed out in the blink of an eye. He wouldn’t forget those lessons, wouldn’t forget that life should be considered a precious gift. He couldn’t go home now and squander his future. For whatever reason his life had been spared, Glen was determined to make it count. And because he could do nothing now for Charlie, it was even more important that he make something of himself in honor of his friend.

  Glen put the pencil on the paper and began.

  Dear Dad,

  I’ll be sailing from France tomorrow and you’ll get this letter before I finally get home. I’m not coming to Omaha right away. I have some business in Montana I need to take care of for my friend Charlie. I wrote you about him. He was a great guy. I never had a better friend. He left a letter for his wife and asked that I deliver it to her in person, and that’s what I’m going to do. I know it will delay my arrival home, but this is something important and I want to do it for him. So I’ll head to Montana as soon as I’m discharged. I don’t know how long it’ll take to get there and do what I need to do. I’ll telephone when I get stateside. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be home as soon as I can.

  Give my love to Aunt Irene.

  Your son,

  Glen

  He heaved out a sigh and rubbed his tired eyes. He couldn’t let himself think too much, couldn’t let his mind ruminate over the past three years. It was too oppressive and dark. If he wasn’t careful he’d be swallowed up in the darkness of that abyss and never know anything good again. He tried not to think about Charlie—at least, not for now. He would have to, he knew, once he shipped out and was headed to Montana.

  Glen tried not to think about Amy and what he might say to her. He was certain he would be inadequate to the task and toyed with the idea of simply mailing the letter to her. Then he regretted such a temptation and knew he owed Charlie more than that, owed Amy more than that. He could help her remember Charlie for a while longer. She’d have to move on eventually, try to start again. He hoped she would, anyway. She deserved to be happy again with someone else. And then he thought about all the widows who would have to start again, move on, and about all the surviving servicemen, maimed and torn to pieces. They’d have to start again too, without a hand or a leg, or something else they’d sacrificed to the war. He shook out a cigarette, lit it, and stretched out on the cot. He couldn’t think anymore.

  ///////

  Bonnie thought the look on Mrs. Kemp’s face would melt her buttons. She couldn’t get out of the exchange fast enough and rushed to the door. As she opened it, Christine stood on the other side with a look of surprise on her face.

  “I was hoping to catch you—”

  Mrs. Kemp stopped short behind Bonnie, her temper still flared. “And don’t expect a recommendation from me either, Miss Cooper!”

  Bonnie spun around and glared at Mrs. Kemp. “I wasn’t expecting one.”

  She sneered and cocked a brow. “Goodbye, Miss Cooper.”

  Bonnie rounded, grabbed Christine by the elbow, and pushed her way to the foyer. Christine gave her a wide-eyed look. “That must not have gone well,” she said, looking back at the exchange door.

  Bonnie let out a breath. “I wasn’t expecting it to. But at least it’s over. You want to grab a bite?”

  Christine winced and looked at her watch. “I would, but I have a family thing tonight.” She clasped Bonnie’s arm. “Why don’t you come? It’s just my cousin’s birthday, and—” Bonnie didn’t like “family” things of any kind. She couldn’t even abide the sound of the word. As far as she was concerned, families were nothing more than a societal excuse to legally inflict pain on one another. “Thanks,” she said, cutting Christine off with a swipe of her hand. “But I’d rather not.”

  Christine appeared deflated, but nodded. “Sure. Okay. Call me next week and we’ll go to the movies or something.”

  Bonnie forced a smile. “Great. I’ll do that.”

  Christine moved forwar
d to give her a hug. Bonnie felt her body stiffen as Christine patted her on the back. She had to will herself to reciprocate the gesture and pulled back as quickly as she could. “I’ll call you,” she said with a flick of her head and turned to leave.

  “Good luck,” Christine called to her. “On Monday, I mean.”

  Bonnie waved, but didn’t turn back. As she walked, she thought about Christine’s family, what they might be like. They were probably kind, like Christine, probably soft-spoken and hospitable. But then, she thought, maybe they were awful people, harsh and over-bearing. Maybe that’s what made Christine a bit shy. Anyway, it didn’t matter. She was never going to find out.

  Thinking of families made her think about her own mother. She started to wonder how her mother had died, but more specifically, if her father had anything to do with it. She knew full well the capacity of his temper, knew he’d beaten her mother to unconsciousness before. Maybe he’d killed her. Maybe he’d hit her one too many times or kicked her hard enough to cause an internal hemorrhage. As much as she disliked the idea of talking to her father again, she wanted to know. Of course, she thought, he probably wouldn’t tell her the truth anyway. And how would she prove it? She couldn’t return to California to investigate for herself, and she didn’t dare set foot in California again.

  Still the question remained and began to grow in her mind. She wanted to know how her mother had died, what had happened to her, where she’d been buried, and when. As she walked in the thick summer heat Bonnie became obsessed with the idea and knew she wouldn’t rest until she’d at least made an attempt to find out.

  As she entered the apartment building and climbed the stairs, the heat of August became stifling. She hadn’t left any windows open because there were no screens. Bonnie was afraid Baby Girl might jump or fall the four stories down, even though the cat wasn’t yet big enough to reach the window sill. When she opened the door, a wave of hot air assaulted her. Baby Girl came loping from the bedroom, her tail in the air. She greeted Bonnie with a tiny meow, and Bonnie’s heart melted.