Amazing Grace (9 page)

“That's Daddy's group,” Johnny whispered to me. I shook my head to agree.

The man's voice sounded excited. He explained that under the command of General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the naval and air forces, led by the United States, invaded the beaches of Normandy in northern France earlier today, June 6, 1944. American, British and Canadian forces landed on five beaches, a fifty-mile stretch, and fought the Axis forces, led by Germany and Italy. He also said the military invasion was a triumph for the 156,000 who bravely fought for the Allied forces, and he called the Normandy invasion “D-Day.”

“I wonder if one of the soldiers is Daddy?” I whispered.

“Could be, Gracie Girl,” Mom answered. She twisted her wedding band and stared at Daddy's picture on the fireplace mantel. My tummy did a little twisting of its own.

With a somber voice, the newsman talked about Omaha Beach and how the Allied forces faced heavy resistance from the German Nazi soldiers. He said Americans, maybe as many as two thousand, were killed and even more injured.

A lump, bigger than the one I had the day Daddy left on the train, swelled up in my throat. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't talk. I couldn't think. I stared at the wireless and didn't hear another word the man said.

Noticing how worried I looked, Grandma quickly hugged me and said, “We have to have gumption. Your daddy will be fine.” Her voice shook with each word.

Mom reached over and turned off the wireless. “Time to go outside and play,” she said. “Burn off some energy.”

What energy? I felt like I'd been wrung out like Grandma's dishrag, but I walked outside with Johnny. The orange and red sunset looked as if it could burst into flames. The way my heart thumped, it could too.

Johnny spread his arms, pretending to be a toy top, and began to spin. He laughed harder with each turn. “Come on, Grace Ann, spin with me.” I spread my arms into wings and whirled until I was fall-down dizzy.

The sun dipped behind a distant hill. Twilight followed, with light giving in to dark and the air giving up steam for a comfy cool.

As I flopped on the sidewalk to catch my breath, Johnny dashed to the porch and grabbed a clear glass Mason canning jar. He unscrewed the lid and chased out through my rainbow victory garden to catch lightning bugs. He tossed each catch into the jar and screwed the lid back on. Mom had used a hammer and nail to pound holes in the lid to let the bugs get air.

“Help me, Grace Ann,” Johnny said. I stood still and waited. Sure enough, a bug lit up. I captured it and placed it in the jar. I had to admit the jar looked magical with the flickering lights of the bugs. We caught more until total darkness forced us back inside.

“Release the bugs, Johnny,” Mom said. “You can catch more tomorrow.”

Playing with Johnny made me feel better for a little while, but I worried about Daddy. I was thankful to have the wireless so we could follow what was happening with the Allied forces.

Every day, Mom stopped by the post office on her way home. And every day after D-Day, she brought the same news—no letter from Daddy—until today. I peeked out the window and saw Mom walking toward the house reading a letter.

Maybe it was good news about Daddy. My hopes soared. Or maybe the news was bad. Oh, please, no.

I opened the screen door and rushed out as it thwacked shut. “Mom, is that a letter from Daddy?” I asked, not bothering with “Hello.”

“Oh, yes,” Mom answered. She smiled but she didn't seem excited.

Grandma and Johnny rushed out to meet Mom. They were as anxious as I was to hear from him.

Mom read. I clung to each word. Daddy said he missed us and thought about us all the time. That was the happy part. In the scary part, he said he would soon be sent along with thousands of other troops on a special mission, and by the time we received his letter, we had probably already heard about it on the wireless.

“The Normandy invasion,” Grandma said. “D-Day.”

Mom took a deep breath and swooshed it out like a long, slow breeze. She looked at Grandma and nodded yes.

In Daddy's letter, he also said it might be a while before he got a chance to write again. He said he was giving us hugs in his thoughts and wanted us to think about him, too, so he could feel our hugs. Suddenly, I shivered even though the temperature was scorching, and I knew Daddy had sent me a hug.

After supper, we always listened to the news. On June 12, Grandma tuned into President Franklin Delano Roosevelt's “Fireside Chat.”

The president reminded us of the Normandy invasion last week. He explained that war was expensive, and the U.S. government needed money to fund the troops. He asked people to buy war bonds. Roosevelt said by investing in war bonds, people would be investing in the future of America and helping the troops win the war. A $25.00 war bond cost $18.75. Ten years later, people could cash in the bonds and get $25.00. That was a winning deal for America and Americans.

Roosevelt said that every man, woman and child who bought a war bond helped mightily. He asked Americans to work together to support the troops and help bring victory to the Allied forces.

When the “Fireside Chat” ended, we listened to Kate Smith sing “God Bless America.” Bugs Bunny reminded us that young people could do their part, too, by purchasing ten- or twenty-five-cent saving stamps to paste into war bond books.

Grandma put her knitting aside and walked into her bedroom. A couple minutes later, she returned carrying a red-and-yellow striped can. “I've been saving a little money,” she said, “for something special. I can't think of anything more special than helping the troops to victory.” She pulled out the small stack of bills and counted $115. “I'm going to the bank to purchase six war bonds tomorrow morning,” she announced. “I'll have a little left for an emergency, if needed.”

I ran to my room and grabbed my memory box that Lily gave me when we moved to Ashland. I pulled out all my savings, $0.92. “I can buy three $0.25 savings stamps and start a war bond book.”

“That's wonderful, Grace Ann,” Mom said. “I can buy one war bond.”

Johnny trudged off to our bedroom. He came bouncing back into the parlor. “Looky, looky,” he said and opened his hand. Six pennies piled together. “Can I buy a war bond stamp? I have six cents.”

I picked out four pennies from my memory box and added them to the money in his hand. “Yep, you can buy a ten-cent war stamp,” I answered.

Once again, the wireless held our attention. A broadcaster named Colin Willis described D-Day as “a sea filled with ships and planes in every direction.” Another newsman said the Allied forces had moved inland and were liberating other towns in France. He said small fields, high hedges and deep ditches covered the Normandy countryside. This type of ground was dangerous because German Nazi soldiers hid behind the hedges. Plus, the army tanks couldn't go through the hedges. The Allied troops solved the problem by welding sawtoothed blades that chopped down the hedges to the front of the tanks.

I was proud of Daddy and the Allied troops. I went to sleep thinking my war stamps would help bring Daddy home sooner.

The next morning, Mom, Grandma, Johnny and I piled into the Hudson and rode to the Third National Bank in Ashland. Mom walked over to say “hello” to her friend Jenny, who was the “sugar girl” teller. Jenny handed out the sugar rationing for the local businesses. She said she could also sell the war bonds and stamps to us. We lined up. Johnny bought his; then I followed along with Grandma and Mom.

As I listened to Mom tell Jenny about Daddy, a grin slid across my face. The pride in Mom's voice when she said “soldier” stretched my grin into a wide beam.

With the war bonds and stamps in our hands, we headed home. I looked at the marquee on the Paramount Theater as we passed by. Smiley Burnet was starring in
Beneath Western Skies
. I remembered Mom and Daddy taking me to a picture show to see
Pinocchio
to celebrate my seventh birthday.

On the way home, we stopped by the post office. I ran in to get the mail, but we had none. I hadn't really expected a letter but remained hopeful.

Chapter 14

Gone

All summer long, I worked in my rainbow victory garden and pumpkin patch, pulling weeds, hoeing and spreading Moonglow's dried-up mule pies around the plants. Moonglow's pies did the trick, adding zip and zoom to my special rainbow.

Johnny picked blueberries off the bushes and crammed them in his mouth. Then he stuck his blue tongue out at me and wiggled it like an angry snake. That boy. Johnny wasn't the only one who relished the sweet, juicy fruity flavor. We all helped him gobble blueberry pie, blueberry cobbler, blueberry muffins and blueberry pancakes until the last blueberry bid bye-bye.

I stayed busy trying to keep my mind off what might have happened to Daddy, but that didn't work. No matter what I did, my mind wandered back in that direction.

Spot tagged along as I piddled in my rainbow victory garden. He snoozed as I pulled weeds. He dug in the dirt as I hoed. He flopped down and listened when I sat down to rest and told him how I felt about life.

Each morning, Spot ran to meet me at the back door when I took breakfast out to him. So the morning when he didn't meet me, my stomach tightened like a knot in a rope. “Spot!” I yelled. I set his food dish beside his water bowl and tore around the house. “Spot! Spot! Come here, boy,” I yelled again and again.

I swept my eyes over the front yard and up and down the road. “Spot! Spot!” I shouted.

Spot didn't answer, but Grandma's neighbor Mr. Wick, from two houses down, limped up to me. “What's going on, Grace Ann?” he asked.

“Spot's gone,” I whispered. Somehow, I couldn't say the words out loud.

My restless hands wouldn't stay still. I rubbed my arms and then raked my fingers through my hair.

“Oh, he'll come home,” Mr. Wick said. “Mutts always do. When I heard all the commotion from you, I thought something was wrong over here.”

“Something is wrong,” I said. “Spot is gone.” That time I didn't whisper. I let the words fly out of my mouth at full volume.

Mr. Wick looked at me for the longest time. I know Daddy wouldn't want me to yell at an adult, and I didn't yell, not exactly. I merely raised my voice a tad louder than usual. But Daddy would have understood about Spot. He would have been as upset as I was.

“Never cared much for mutts,” Mr. Wick said as he walked off down the road toward his house.

That time I kept my mouth shut, but I wanted to yell, “Spot never cared much for you either, mister. And I can see why.”

I didn't have time to worry about Mr. Wick. His business was his business. My business for the day was to find Spot. I had no idea where to look for him.

“Spot! Spot!” I yelled.

More of Grandma's neighbors heard me and rushed over. I told them to watch for Spot, and every one of them offered to keep an eye out. Most of Grandma's neighbors were neighborly.

I kept yelling, and Mom, Grandma and Johnny ran out to check on me. “Grace Ann, is Spot missing?” Mom asked.

When I looked at Mom, I couldn't speak. I nodded my head, and tears trickled down my face.

“Oh, honey,” Mom said as she wrapped me close. “Spot will come back home. He's out playing.”

“But Mom,” I said as I sniffed back tears, “he's never left before. He's not had breakfast. He's hungry. He may be hurt. Or lost.” I started to say, “Or worse,” but I didn't want to think that. Thinking it might make it come true.

“Shh,” Mom whispered. “Let's give him some time. If he's not home by this afternoon, we'll search for him.”

“Come inside,” Grandma said. “You need to eat too.”

Johnny patted my arm. I glanced down as he looked up with a sad face and wet eyes. I shot out my arm and pulled him to me as we walked into Grandma's house.

“Gumption. That's what we need to have,” Grandma said as she passed around the bowl of gravy. “We've got to look on the bright side of this situation with Spot.”