by Judy Blume
Mom snorted and looked out the window.
Daddy laughed. “Did you enjoy dinner, kids?”
“Oh, yeah … it was great,” Douglas answered.
“And all that whipped cream,” Sally said. “Yum!”
When they got out of the taxi they saw the Goodyear Blimp in the sky. It was all lit up. Douglas said, “Oh, boy … would I like to fly around in that!”
Mom said, “Some people don’t have enough trouble … they have to go looking for it.”
“Was tonight an adventure, Doey?” Sally asked. She was already tucked in to bed and Daddy sat on the edge, waiting for his treatment.
“I’ll say …”
“I thought so.”
“I’m glad you had a good time, Sal …”
“Mmm … I really did.”
When her mother came over to kiss her goodnight Sally reached up and put her arms around Mom’s neck. “You know something … I wouldn’t want a mother who looks like Vicki … she’s nice and all that but I don’t think she’d know how to love a kid the way she loves her diamonds …” She kissed Mom’s cheek.
Mom hugged her back. “Thank you, Sally … I really needed to hear that tonight.”
Dear Doey,
I miss you already! I hope you had a good trip home. Next time I think you should fly National Airlines because Barbara’s mother works for them. You remember who Barbara is, don’t you?
I forgot to tell you something very important when you were here. My teacher, Miss Swetnick, goes out with Peter Hornsteins brother. Peter Hornstein sits behind me in class. I also forgot to ask if you could fix my front tooth like my teacher’s. It looks very pretty when she smiles.
I am still trying to get my first E for excellent in penmanship. Doesn’t my writing look better? I don’t make my o’s like a’s any more.
Well, that’s it for now. Send my love to Aunt Bette, Uncle Jack and Miss Kay.
Your loving and only daughter,
S.J.F.
She folded the letter and placed it in an envelope. Then she took out another piece of paper. As long as she was writing letters she might as well write one to him too.
Dear Mr. Zavodsky,
I had a dream about you. I am almost sure I know who you really are. Give yourself up before I report you to the police. I will be watching and waiting. Don’t think you can get away with this disguise of yours. Nobody feels sorry for you just because you lost.
Sally and Andrea were sitting at the edge of the goldfish pool in the courtyard, playing the initial game. Omar had his front paws on the edge of the pool and was peering over the side.
“You can look but don’t touch,” Andrea warned Omar. “No goldfish for you!”
Omar purred and stuck his tail straight up in the air.
“Look at that,” Sally said. “I never saw him do that before.”
“Oh, sure … it means he wants affection.”
“How do you know?”
“I read it in this book called Getting To Know Your Cat,” Andrea said. “When they stick their tails up like that you should pet them.” She reached out and stroked Omar’s back. “It’s your turn …”
Sally petted Omar too.
“Not for that!” Andrea said, annoyed. “For the initial game.”
“Oh,” Sally said, “… okay, I’m thinking of a famous person and his initials are A.H.”
“A.H.,” Andrea repeated, “let’s see … is he a movie star?”
“Nope.”
“A radio personality?”
“Nope.”
“Uh … a political figure?”
“I guess you could say that …”
“Let’s see …” Andrea put her finger to her lip and looked up at the sky. “I’ve got it … Admiral Halsey!”
“Nope,” Sally said. “But did I ever tell you that I saw Admiral Halsey’s parade when he came home from the war?”
“You did?”
“Yes … I threw confetti and everything … but that’s not who I’m thinking of …”
“Well,” Andrea said, “then I give up … I can’t think of anybody else with those initials …”
“How about Adolf Hitler?” Sally was pleased that she’d stumped Andrea.
“Adolf Hitler!” Andrea said, and she leaned over the side of the goldfish pool and spit into it. “How can you even say that name without spitting?”
“I never spit,” Sally said.
“Well, you should … every time you say that name … every time you even hear it you should spit … he made lampshades out of Jewish people’s skin!”
“He did?” Sally leaned over and spit into the pool too. “There,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“And don’t you ever use that filthy name on me again,” Andrea said, “or I’ll never play the initial game with you!”
“All right,” Sally said. “I’m thinking of a …” She was interrupted by a high, shrill scream, coming from the side yard. Both girls jumped up and ran to see what was happening. It was Mrs. Richter, a small, thin woman with white hair. Other people rushed outside to see what the commotion was about. Through it all Mrs. Richter kept screaming, with one hand clutching her chest and the other pointing to the bushes.
Mr. Koner, the landlord, who also lived in their building, said, “Tell us what’s wrong …”
Mrs. Richter just shook her head, took a breath and let out another scream.
“Try to tell us what it is …” Mr. Koner said. “How can we help you if you won’t tell us …”
Mrs. Richter began to cry and talk at the same time. “It’s the second one this week … and two last week … that makes four … and the week before another one … that makes five … my heart isn’t what it used to be … I can’t take much more of it … it’s that cat’s fault …”
“What cat?” Mr. Koner asked.
“That cat!” Mrs. Richter said. “That white cat …” She pointed to Omar. “I’ve seen him running through these bushes. I’ve seen him chasing birds.”
Everyone looked toward the bushes and there, on the ground, lay a bird’s head. The crowd that had gathered began to chatter.
Andrea grew pale and scooped Omar into her arms. “It’s not Omar,” she told everyone. “He gets enough to eat at home … he doesn’t need any old birds!”
“You keep him locked up … you hear?” Mrs. Richter shouted. “Because if I see him again …”
Andrea turned and ran back to the courtyard. Sally followed. Andrea held Omar to her. “It wasn’t you … I know it wasn’t you …” she told him, kissing his face. “I love you, Omar … don’t you listen to that old witch …”
“Everybody knows she’s crazy,” Sally said. “Just ask my grandmother … she’ll tell you … just because she’s from Boston she thinks she’s so great … she won’t even play rummy with the rest of the ladies …”
“I hate her!” Andrea said.
Sally was thoughtful for a minute. “You could get Omar a collar with bells … then he’d scare the birds away and Mrs. Richter wouldn’t be able to blame him anymore.”
Andrea looked at Sally. “That’s a very good idea … sometimes you really surprise me … for a fifth grader you’re pretty smart.”
Sally smiled.
They took Omar upstairs, then walked to the Five and Dime, where they chose a blue collar with three tiny bells.
“Don’t you think this collar will go nicely with his eyes?” Andrea asked.
“Yes … he’ll look really pretty in it.”
“Let’s hurry home and try it on him,” Andrea said.
“Okay … I just want to stop at the fountain for a drink of water … I’m so thirsty …”
“Yeah … me too … it’s really hot today,” Andrea said. “We could stop at the corner and get a glass of orange juice instead.”
“The orange juice at the corner has too many pieces in it.”
“It’s not pieces … it’s pulp,” Andrea said. “I love my ju
ice pulpy.”
“Not me … pulp gags me.”
“You have to open your throat wide.”
“I can’t.”
“You could ask the man to strain it for you,” Andrea suggested.
“I did once … I was with my mother and the man behind the counter said he wouldn’t do it because all the vitamins are in the pulp and why should my mother pay for a fresh orange juice with no vitamins … so if you don’t mind I’ll just get a drink of water …”
“I don’t mind.”
They walked to the drinking fountain at the back of the store and Sally stood on tiptoe. Andrea held the button down for her. As Sally was drinking, a woman came up from behind and yanked her away.
“Hey …” Andrea said.
“What’s the matter with you girls?” the woman asked. “Can’t you read?” She pointed to a sign above the fountain: Colored. “Your fountain is over there.” She spun Sally around by the shoulders. “You see … it says White … what would your mothers say if they knew what you’d been doing? God only knows what you might pick up drinking from this fountain … you better thank your lucky stars I came along when I did. Now here,” she said, reaching into her purse for a Kleenex. She handed it to Sally. “You wipe your mouth off real good and from now on be more careful …”
Sally was shaking. When the woman was gone she turned to Andrea. “Did you know they had two fountains?”
“No,” Andrea said. “I never even thought about it.”
“Me neither … but I know Negro people have to sit in the back of the bus here.”
“Everybody with dark skin has to …” Andrea said. “That’s why my mother always makes me sit up front.”
“Do you think that’s fair?”
“I don’t know but my mother says you have to follow the rules.”
“So does mine.”
They began to walk home slowly.
“We had a Negro lady who came in to clean three times a week in New Jersey,” Sally said, “and here we have one every Friday … she’s half Seminole Indian … my mother told me. She has dark skin but she eats off our dishes and drinks from our glasses and all that …”
“It’s not the same thing,” Andrea said.
“I don’t see the difference … she’s very nice … and she’s got the prettiest name … Precious Redwine … isn’t that a beautiful name?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it,” Andrea said. “Nobody in Brooklyn has a name like that.”
“Nobody in New Jersey has either.”
Dear Doey-bird,
Right now Douglas is listening to the radio. Jack Armstrong, All American Boy is on. I haven’t been following Jack Armstrong lately so I don’t know what’s happening. Did I tell you that I’m not as scared of The Shadow as I used to be? I still don’t like it when he laughs and says The Shadow knows … but I don’t have to stuff my ears with cotton the way I do when Douglas listens to Inner Sanctum.
This afternoon me and Andrea went to the Five and Dime and I took a drink from the wrong water fountain. They have two of them here. One is marked White and the other is marked Colored. What would happen if a person with dark skin, like a Negro or a Seminole Indian, took a drink from our fountain? Do they really have different germs? Since you went to Dental College I’m sure you know these things …
Dear Sally,
In your last letter you raised some questions that are very hard to answer. I have always believed that people have more similarities than differences, regardless of the color of their skin. While the south continues to practice outright segregation, the north is not much better. We just don’t admit we do it. For instance, how many Negro children were in your school in New Jersey?…
Dear Doey-bird,
One. He was in sixth grade. And you forgot to tell me if people with dark skin have different germs in their mouths. And can they give trench mouth to white people? I have decided that if I ever have a daughter I will name her Precious. Don’t you think that’s a beautiful name? I wish it could be my name even though Precious Redwine sounds a lot better than Precious Freedman …
Dear Sally,
Trench mouth has nothing to do with the color of your skin. Anyone can get it. As for germs in people’s mouths, we are all the same …
Dear Doey-bird,
Then why does the Five and Dime have two fountains and why do they drink only from theirs and we drink only from ours? And you didn’t tell me what you think about my favorite name …
Dear Sally,
Your questions are very hard to answer. At the moment it is simply the way things are. I doubt that they will remain that way forever, but for now, you have to abide by the rules. I’m glad that you’re questioning those rules though. Yes, I think Precious is a lovely name and that is exactly what you are, even though we call you Sally …
Sally, Shelby and Andrea were walking home from school. Sally was careful not to step on any cracks in the sidewalk. Shelby went out of her way to step on every one. When they reached the corner Shelby said, “Bye … see you tomorrow … I’ve got to go to the dentist this afternoon.” She went up the walk to her house.
As soon as she was gone Andrea said, “Can you keep a secret, Sally?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course!” Sally said.
Andrea stood still and faced Sally. “Okay … I’ve decided to tell you and only you because you came up with the idea for Omar’s collar … but if anybody ever finds out …”
“I can keep a secret!” Sally insisted.
“Okay.” Andrea took a big breath. “I’m in love.”
“You are?”
Andrea started walking again. “Yes … hopelessly.”
“Is that good or bad?” Sally had to hurry to keep up with her, skipping over every line in the pavement.
“It all depends,” Andrea said.
“On what?”
Andrea shrugged, as if she wasn’t sure herself.
“Who is he?” Sally asked.
“He’s called Georgia Blue Eyes … he’s new … he’s in Mrs. Wingate’s portable.”
“Oh … that’s right next to Shelby’s … maybe she knows him …”
“This is a secret, remember?”
“Don’t worry … I won’t give you away,” Sally said. “What’s his real name?”
“I don’t know … but he’s from Georgia and he has the most beautiful blue eyes you ever saw.”
“Nicer than Omar’s?”
“Omar is a cat.” Andrea said this as if Sally didn’t already know.
“I thought you liked Latin lovers best … with dark and flashing eyes.”
“I do, sometimes,” Andrea said quietly, and then she became annoyed. “Will you stop jumping like that … you look like a kangaroo.”
“I don’t want to step on any cracks.”
“Don’t tell me you believe that garbage about your mother’s back … that’s the silliest superstition.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Then stop jumping!”
“I like to jump.”
“Sometimes you act younger than a fifth grader … you know that … and I was going to ask you to come to the park with me this afternoon … but now I’m not so sure …”
“And sometimes I act older … you said so yourself.” Sally waited for Andrea to agree with her. When she didn’t, Sally asked, “So what’s at the park today?”
“Georgia Blue Eyes … I heard he’s playing ball there this afternoon.”
“Oh,” Sally said and she stopped jumping.
“Can I go to the park with Andrea?” Sally asked her mother. “Please … I’ll be very careful.”
“Walking or on bicycles?” Mom asked.
“Bicycles … but I’ll watch out for cars … I promise … please …”
“All right,” Mom said. “But be back by five … that means you have to leave the park no later than quarter to …”
“Okay …”
She and Andrea rode their bicycles to Flamingo Park. When they got to a field where a bunch of boys were playing ball Andrea’s face flushed and she said, “There he is!”
“Which one?” Sally asked.
“On first base … isn’t he the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? Look at that hair … oh, I’d love to run my fingers through it.”
“He might have nits.”
“Are you crazy?” Andrea asked.
“Some people do, you know.”
“Not nice people.”
“Even them …” Sally said.
“Never! Nits are what dirty disgusting people get from not shampooing and Georgia Blue Eyes isn’t dirty or disgusting!”
“Maybe …” Sally paused for a minute, not wanting to go deeper into that subject. “So, you want to ride around or just sit here and watch?” she asked Andrea.
“Hmm … I guess we should ride around for a while. We can circle the field … that way he might notice me.”
They rode around three times but if Georgia Blue Eyes noticed Andrea he kept it to himself. Then Andrea decided they should ride around the rest of the park and come back to the field later, when Georgia Blue Eyes wasn’t quite so busy.
They rode past the tennis courts, past the food stand and through the wooded area. Mr. Zavodsky was there, sitting on a bench, reading The Forward. Andrea called, “Yoo hoo … Mr. Zavodsky …” and when he looked up she waved.
Sally caught Andrea’s arm and held it down. “Cut that out!” Andrea said, shaking Sally off. “Got any candy today?” Andrea called to Mr. Zavodsky.
“For you … always …” He beckoned to her.
“Don’t go,” Sally said, under her breath.
“Why not?” Andrea asked.
“I don’t trust him.”
“Why?”
“He offers us candy and we’re … practically strangers …”
“We are not … he knows us.”
“He doesn’t know me at all!”
“Oh, Sally … quit being such a jerk!” Andrea got off her bicycle, kicked down the stand and ran across the grass.
You monster! Sally thought. Reading The Forward, a Yiddish newspaper … pretending to be Jewish … and after you’ve made lampshades out of Jews’ skin! I hate you … I hate you … you think you’re so smart, coming to Miami Beach to retire, like everybody else … I’ll bet you think this is a great hiding place … well, you’re wrong …