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Authors: Tomie dePaola

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BOOK: I'm Still Scared
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An older kid in the school yard said that I was an ENEMY because I was Italian and the Italians are fighting the war against us, with the Germans. I told him I was also Irish. He pushed me. I looked for Buddy, but I couldn't find him.
Then I missed my ride home with Jeannie. Her father would pick us up at the corner of Hanover Street and Orange Street. But Mr. Houdlette wouldn't wait for me if I wasn't right there. He said I “DAWDLED,” so I missed the rides home a lot.
Walking home in the winter wasn't much fun. It was cold and sometimes I had to go to the bathroom. If that happened, I'd knock on the door of Mr. and Mrs. Crane's house on Columbus Avenue. Their daughter, Carol, was my best friend before we moved to 26 Fairmount Avenue. Mrs. Crane was always home. She always let me use the bathroom.
Their bathroom was very fancy. It was all green and black tiles. The seat covers on the toilet were green. The Palmolive soap was green. Even the toilet paper was pale green.
Only once, Mrs. Crane wasn't home and—I hate to admit it—I wet my pants. Wet corduroy pants are
not
fun. By the time I got home, my legs were all red and raw. Mom didn't scold me. She just had me take a nice, hot bath and she put clean clothes for me on my bed.
Buddy laughed at me, though. “Just go in the bushes,” he said.
Dad finally got home. I asked him if I could ask him something VERY important. I told him what the older kid had said about me being the ENEMY because I was Italian. Dad listened carefully.
“Okay, Tomie,” he said. “This is what you tell that kid. You are an American. So am I. I was born in Fall River. Nana Fall-River was born in Italy and so was my father. But they came to Massachusetts before I was born in 1907.
“Just because we are of Italian descent—that means our ancestors were Italian—that was a long time ago, and way before Mussolini, the leader of Italy, came into power and decided to join Hitler, the leader of Germany, to fight the war.
“So, don't you worry! I'll tell your brother the same thing. Loads and loads of people here in the United States are genuine Americans, but their ancestors came from other countries—in fact, almost everybody's ancestors came from other places.”
See, all I have to do is ask my dad or my mom or Tom. They always tell me the whole truth!
Chapter Ten
The newspaper said that all the stores downtown would be open until 9:00 P.M. every night until Christmas Eve—except Sunday. They are closed every Sunday.
The newspapers had lots of ads about Christmas shopping. “Don't wait until the last minute,” the ads said.
Usually I went downtown with Mom. But today I was going to buy her Christmas present, too, so Dad took me. First, we went into Woolworth's and Kresge's, the two five- and ten-cent stores. I bought Maureen a tiny little doll with “real” hair and arms that moved. Mom would be able to make it lots of clothes.
We went to Bessie Boynton's on Colony Street. We took the elevator to the third floor, where all the Boy Scout stuff was. I bought Buddy a camping kit that had a metal cup that closed up, a metal tube to keep matches from getting wet, and some other stuff. He could wear it on his Boy Scout belt.
We went into Liggett's Drug Store across the street. Dad knew Mac, who worked there.
“Well, hello, young fella!” Mac said to me. “You here to get your grandpa a new pipe?”
For the last three Christmases, I had given Tom a new corncob pipe.
“And here are some pipe cleaners for you, too,” Mac said.
Then Dad took me to Upham's Department Store. It was on Colony Street, too.
First I bought two pretty handkerchiefs, one for Nana in Wallingford and the other for Nana Fall-River. I had been in Upham's a lot. I always bought Mom Tweed cologne for her birthday. The lady at the perfume counter knew me.
“Well, hello, Master dePaola”—lots of grown-ups called little boys “Master”—“let me squirt this new cologne in the air for you to smell. Do you want a bottle of Tweed for your mother for Christmas?”
I told her that I was going to buy my mother a pair of nylon stockings for Christmas.
Dad had given me the idea. “Nylon stockings will probably be hard to get because of the war. They need all the nylon thread for parachutes,” he had explained.
The stocking counter was right next to the glove counter. Both counters had tall chairs in front of them. The glove counter had a little cushion on the counter in front of each chair.
“If Madame will put her elbow on the cushion and hold her hand straight up, I will try the glove on for her,” the saleslady would say. I loved to watch.
“Little Master dePaola, do you want to try on a glove?” the saleslady asked me once when no one was around. I sat, or rather knelt on the tall chair and put my elbow on the cushion. The saleslady tugged a glove onto my hand, one finger at a time. It was funny.
The stocking counter was different. Stacks and stacks of thin boxes were lined up against the back wall. Each box had a pair of stockings in it. The nylons were off to one side. The boxes were arranged by size and color.
“What size and which color?” the saleslady would ask the customer. If the customer didn't know the color, the saleslady would get several boxes off the stack. She'd open one box at a time, folding back the tissue paper. Then she'd carefully put her hand into the stocking so the customer could see the color against the saleslady's skin.
“Here,” Dad said. He handed me a slip of paper. On it he had written Mom's size and the color she liked. I handed it to the saleslady. She took a flat box off the shelf.
“Would you like to see how pretty your mommy's legs will look in this color?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” I answered. I wanted to see the nylon stocking on her hand.
Upham's Department Store was great because of two things.
They did free gift wrapping at a special counter. You could pick out the paper and ribbon and watch the lady wrap the box perfectly and make the fanciest bows I had ever seen.
BOOK: I'm Still Scared
4.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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