4
Mama might have kept me from telling Daddy the whole truth, but there was nothing she could do to keep me from telling Theo. We’d been nearly inseparable since Mama and Auntie Mildred had popped us out in the same week, and the only way that Mama could stop us from seeing each other would be to keep me home from Sunday school (which we both knew she wouldn’t do).
But when I made it to the church bright and early Sunday morning, Theo was nowhere to be found. I even waited in our usual spot underneath the choir seats for an extra fifteen minutes (and I would have waited longer if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Timothy). I had to endure another lesson about fire and brimstone by myself, but as soon as the bell rang, I escaped into the hall.
It didn’t take me long to find him, since I knew all of Theo’s haunts. After checking underneath the choir seats again, I slipped out the side door and inspected every shrub around the old adobe church. Sure enough, I found him and Walter tucked behind the biggest bush.
“Hey, watch it!” Walter said when I almost tripped over his shoes.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. I bet you don’t even polish ’em.” I flicked Theo’s ear. “What are you doin’ with this lamebrain?”
“For your information,” Walter said, “Theo and I are in the middle of a very important business deal.”
That business deal looked like a rip-roaring game of marbles. And judging by the heap of steelies Walter had amassed, it looked like they weren’t messing around.
I stuck both hands on my hips. “Theodore Clausen, are you gamblin’ on the Lord’s own doorstep?”
Walter smiled smugly. “You can’t really call it gambling if you know you’re going to lose.”
Theo dropped his gaze. Dark curls spilled across his forehead, obscuring the thin scar he’d received when I accidentally launched a firework at him.
“I ought to hand you over to your mama”—I plopped down in the dirt—“for not inviting me.”
A tiny smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, but he didn’t look up.
Walter scooted back. “Hey, who said you could stay?”
“I did,” I replied, seizing one of his clearies and holding it up to the light. It was bright enough to make me squint. “If you don’t want me to squeal, you’re gonna have to pay me off.”
Walter made a face. “Why, you little—”
“Careful,” I said. “You wouldn’t want the angels recordin’ any of your filthy words.”
It looked like he dearly wanted to wrap his hands around my neck, but instead of working up the nerve, he knotted his arms across his chest. He might have gambled on the Lord’s own doorstep, but apparently, he drew the line at murder. Guess even Walter Lloyd had standards.
“I’ll take this clearie for my silence.” I stuck it in my pocket without waiting for his say-so. “And I want Theo’s marbles back.”
Walter’s face flushed purple. “Why don’t you take them all?” he asked as he kicked the heap at Theo. As he stalked away, he added, “I’ll just win them back next week.”
I glared at Walter’s back until he disappeared around the corner, then retrieved one of his shooters. It was as heavy as a ball of lead. “What were you thinkin’, Theo? Everyone knows that Walter cheats.”
He swiped the shooter from my hand. “I was thinkin’ I was tired of listenin’ to Mrs. Timothy.”
I flicked his ear again. “I would’ve played with you.”
“Yeah, well, you were late.”
“Well, then, you should have waited!”
Theo clambered to his feet. “I don’t need your lectures.” He dusted off his pants and headed toward the parking lot. “And I certainly don’t need you fightin’ my battles for me.”
“Well, sor-ree,” I said as I hurried to keep up. “If I’d known you were gonna be so cranky, I wouldn’t have bothered to come and tell you about the lab.”
“What lab?” Theo asked.
He said it like he didn’t think there really was a lab, like he was trying to be nice, but then, Theo had never had a very good imagination. I blamed that on Auntie Mildred.
“The lab that me and Mama drove your mama to,” I said as I sidled up to him. “Want to guess what happened when we got there?”
“Not really,” Theo said.
“We saw a man come back to life!” I cupped a hand around my mouth. “And not just any man,” I whispered, “but a real, live Japanese—”
I broke off when we ran smack-dab into Walter, who was skulking around the palm trees that lined the front of the church.
I shoved him in the back. “Criminy, Walter!”
He clamped a hand over my mouth. “Quiet, Ella Mae. Do you want someone to see us?”
Did I want someone to see Walter’s hand touching my lips? Absolutely not.
Once he was sure I wouldn’t squeal, Walter dropped his hand and nodded toward Mr. and Mrs. Dent, who were saying good-bye to Reverend Simms. “I’m just trying to avoid the Dirts.”
Hearing Walter say that left a bad taste in my mouth. The whole town had turned out for the Dents’ after-the-war wedding, but Mama said the only reason that anyone had gone was to gawk at the Hawaiian bride. At the party afterward, I’d heard Auntie Mildred say, “White men and brown women weren’t meant to live together. A bird might love a fish, but where on earth would they keep house?”
But as far as I could tell, the Dents were doing just fine. They had two kids, a steady income, and a bungalow on Finch Street. Walter and Auntie Mildred were the ones who had the problem.
I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms and looked around for an escape route, but there was no way to avoid the scene playing out on the church steps. I watched reluctantly as Mrs. Dent held out her hand and Reverend Simms shook it, but as soon as the Dents turned around, he wiped his hand off on his pants.
“Did you see that?” Walter hissed. “The reverend doesn’t like those Dirts, either.”
“Pipe down,” I said so softly he probably couldn’t even hear. I considered it my duty to put Walter in his place, but I’d never seen him and Reverend Simms agree on anything important. Whether that made it more right or more wrong, though, I couldn’t have said.
Once the Dents got in their car, Walter dusted off his hands. “Looks like it’s finally safe.” He gave me and Theo a two-fingered salute. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
We didn’t return his salute, just watched him go through squinted eyes. Walter always made me mad, but today, he’d made me nervous, too. If that was how people reacted to a perfectly nice Hawaiian lady, how in the world would they respond to a full-blown Japanese man?
Once Walter left, Theo set his sights on me. “Weren’t you gonna tell me something?”
I rolled my tongue around my mouth (which still tasted horrible). “No, it ain’t important.”
Suddenly, the thought of telling Theo—and having him react like Walter—made me want to retreat into my shell and never poke my head back out. There was no guarantee that he’d fly off the handle, but what if he did? I didn’t want to take the risk.
5
Thursday night found me and Daddy watching Dragnet in the living room. Daddy might have thought that teal toasters were stupid, but as soon as Mr. Leavitt had introduced him to the television, that was all she wrote. Daddy said it reminded him of listening to the radio with Gramps, but Mama called the television “the demise of imagination.”
I tuned in to NBC while Daddy got settled in his armchair. Daniel used to be the official tuner in the family, but after the war ended, Daddy gave me the job. He said he’d just been waiting for my fingers to get strong enough, but I knew he’d been hoping that Daniel would come home. I’d been hoping that, too.
Mama poked her head in as the picture glowed to life. “Is I Love Lucy on?”
I crinkled my nose. “I Love Lucy is on Mondays. It’s Dragnet tonight.”
Mama grunted. “Really, Jed? I thought we both agreed that Ella Mae’s too sensitive.”
“You think everyone’s too sensitive,” I said as I spread out on the rug.
Daddy held up his hands. “One more episode won’t hurt.”
Mama rolled her eyes. “At least sit on the couch!” she hollered at me over her shoulder. “You’re too old to let folks get a look at your bloomers.”
With a heavy sigh, I retreated to the couch, one of Auntie Mildred’s lumpy hand-me-downs. Sergeant Friday’s badge flashed across the screen, and then his voice boomed through the living room: “The story you are about to see is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.” I tried to focus on his monologue about the evening’s case, but the words got mixed up in my brain. I must have been too busy being sensitive about being sensitive.
“You can stop pouting,” Daddy said when the show cut to commercials. “She said you could watch.”
“I’m too old for fishin’ and for lyin’ on the floor. Now I’m too sensitive for Dragnet?”
“She didn’t mean it like that, Ella Mae.”
I glowered. “Yes, she did.”
He didn’t disagree.
“I didn’t make it up, you know. I really saw a Japanese man.”
“I’m sure you did,” Daddy said.
“So why don’t you believe me?”
Daddy shifted awkwardly. “I believe that you believe. Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” I said, “it ain’t.”
The advertisements ended, and so did our conversation. I’d learned months ago not to interrupt the sergeant. But just because I couldn’t say the words out loud didn’t make them go away. They swam around inside my head like a school of restless salmon, too slippery to catch but too tickly to ignore.
• • •
Friday afternoon found me and Theo walking home from school together. I still hadn’t told him about the Japanese man, even though we walked home every day (except when it was raining). I liked these days best, when the air was warm but not hot, dry but not dusty. We were still several blocks from home, but I could already smell Mr. McConnell’s orange grove.
“Did you see Rusty’s hair?” I asked. “It looked like someone slathered a pound of Brylcreem on his head.”
“Oh, was that Brylcreem?” Theo shuddered. “It looked like slime to me.”
That made me think of the Japanese man, and that made me shudder involuntarily, too. I was trying to decide if keeping him a secret was still the best course of action when a bicycle bell dinged behind us. I didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Gracie.
“Theo!” she yelled. “Ella Mae! I need to talk to you!”
We exchanged a solemn look, then, by unspoken agreement, turned around. We could have outrun her if she’d been on foot, but we were no match for Gracie’s bicycle. Mama had once offered to teach her how to drive, but after Auntie Mildred argued, loudly, Gracie had assured us that she preferred to ride. Auntie Mildred wasn’t fond of Gracie’s bicycle, either, but apparently, riding bicycles was more ladylike than driving cars.
Gracie was breathing hard as she rolled to a stop. “Mama wanted me to tell you that she’s almost out of jam, so if Auntie Anna has leftovers, Mama would appreciate a loan.”
Auntie Mildred’s orange marmalade had always been my favorite, but when she sold her soul to Betty Crocker, she’d also given up canning. Now we were stuck with Mama’s strawberry, which tasted just fine if you could get past all the seeds.
“I’ll pass the word along,” I said.
Gracie set her sights on Theo. “And she asked me to remind you about your dentist’s appointment. You’ve got to leave for Santa Ana in the next twenty-five minutes.”
Theo made a face. “I was hopin’ she’d forget.”
“Fat chance,” I replied as I nudged him with my elbow. “Auntie Mildred never forgets anything.”
“Tell me about it,” Theo said.
We were still just standing there, not leaving, when Theo dragged a hand under his nose. His elbow swung so wide that it whacked me in the shoulder.
I grabbed my arm. “Hey, watch it!”
Theo didn’t apologize, though his eyes did widen. We’d been cousins long enough that I knew exactly what he meant.
“I mean,” I said, dropping my hand, “Theo can’t go to the dentist because he already promised that he’d help me with my times tables.”
Gracie arched an eyebrow. I was usually much better at lying; she’d just caught me off guard. But before I could lay the grease on even thicker, Gracie said, “All right.”
Theo sagged with relief.
“But I’m coming with you,” she went on after glancing at her watch. “When Theo has to go, I’ll help you finish up.”
I started to protest, but Theo elbowed me again. Reluctantly, I shut my trap. He’d always been a pacifist, and heaven forbid that I should fight his battles for him.
Gracie trailed along behind us for the last couple of blocks, dipping her head at Mrs. Olsen and blushing when Patrick Temple winked at her from the other side of the street. By the time we made it to our picket fence, Mr. McConnell’s orange blossoms didn’t smell nearly as sweet.
I yanked Theo through the gate. “We’ll only be a second!” I hollered back at Gracie. With any luck, another boy would pedal down the street, and she’d lose track of the time.
But it didn’t look like Gracie was in the mood to be sidetracked. “I’ll be right behind you,” she replied, leaning her bicycle against the fence.
I hustled him into the house. If Gracie expected me to hold the door open for her, she had another thing coming. I wasn’t one of her lovesick lackeys. We tumbled into the kitchen, where Mama was on the telephone.
“—speakin’ to her,” she was saying, twisting the cord around her hand, adding curlicues to curlicues. But then her hand went still. “How did you get this number?”
The chilliness in Mama’s voice made me miss a step.
“Well, of course she did,” Mama said, “but that doesn’t mean I’ve taken charge of anything!”
I suspected the she was Auntie Mildred, but I couldn’t have said for sure. As we edged closer to Mama, Theo’s shoe squeaked on the linoleum, and Mama whirled around. Her eyes bulged when she spotted him.
“Get him out of here!” she roared. She’d pressed a hand over the mouthpiece, but it probably hadn’t done much good.
Stunned, I staggered back, dragging Theo with me. The last time I’d heard Mama roar like that, she’d just found out that Daniel wouldn’t be coming home. We crashed into Gracie as we stumbled onto the porch, but Mama didn’t stop herding us. Once our toes were clear of the door, she slammed it shut in our faces.
“What’s her problem?” Theo asked.
I made a show of shrugging. Her reaction had affected me, but I wasn’t about to let it show. “I think she just needs a nap.”
Gracie saw through my nonchalance. “Is there something we can do?”
“Oh, I think you’ve done enough.” The sooner I got rid of Gracie and her well-intentioned meddling, the sooner I could find out what was going on. “Thanks for comin’ over.”
Gracie grabbed the railing. “But what about your times tables?”
“I can do ’em on my own.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at Theo. “Hope the dentist doesn’t kill you.”
He knotted his arms across his chest. “It’ll be your fault if he does.”
Gracie only made it halfway down the walk before she realized he wasn’t with her. “Theo, are you coming?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” But as soon as Gracie turned around, he turned back to me. “Ella Mae, what’s goin’ on? Who was your mama talkin’ to?”
I opened my mouth to answer, then snapped it shut again. “I don’t know,” I admitted,
and it was even mostly true.
“Come on,” Theo said, dropping his voice. “You can lie to Gracie, but you can’t lie to me.”
“It’s true,” I said, because it was. When he still just stood there waiting, I shoved him down the stairs. If I’d gone this long without telling him about the Japanese man, I could go a little longer. “Don’t want to keep the dentist waiting.”
He didn’t look like he believed me, but I didn’t give him time to argue, just hurried back inside. I was itching to hear what they were saying, but Mama had already hung up (though the cord hadn’t stopped swinging).
“Who was that?” I asked.
“It was Miss Kendall,” Mama said, “Dr. Franks’s secretary. She said they want us to come back.”
I sneered. “Of course they do.”
Mama’s fingers curled around the counter. “I told her we would.”
“But why?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“She said they’ve had some sort of breakthrough.” Mama drew a shaky breath. “Not that she would tell me what the breakthrough was, but she made it sound like they found Robby.”
6
We picked up Auntie Mildred first thing Saturday morning. She was waiting for us on her porch, clutching her purse like a life preserver. The rain dripping from the eaves softened her rough edges.
“This is it,” she said as she climbed into our Studebaker. “I can feel it.”
I didn’t bother to point out that she’d probably thought the same thing last week.
It took longer than it should have to reach the old highway. The rain turned the landscape gray and drizzly, reducing the San Bernardinos to distant blobs and muffling all but the hypnotic swishing of our tires on the wet road. Mama hated driving slow, but she must have hated the thought of wrecking Daddy’s Studebaker even more. When we pulled into the parking lot of Ingolstadt Laboratories, we were fifteen minutes late.
Auntie Mildred didn’t wait for Mama to turn off the engine, just jumped out of the car as soon as it rolled to a stop (or maybe slightly before). When I didn’t go as fast as she wanted me to, Auntie Mildred grabbed my wrist and towed me into the lobby. Her gloves felt slick, like sweaty hands.
The Sound of Life and Everything Page 3