I'm Still Scared (8 page)

And there were NO cash registers at any of the counters. The salesclerks would put a slip of paper with the price on it and the money in a little metal box. Then they would clip the box onto moving wires that went all over the ceiling of the store. The little box would end up at the cashier's cage in the back of the store. There, ladies would make the change, put it back in the metal box, and clip it back on the moving wires. In no time at all, it would end up at the counter where it started!

I loved to watch all those little boxes whizing around the store. It would make a great ride at the Savin Rock Amusement Park.

Mom was busy all week sewing the blackout curtains. She had a “portable Singer sewing machine” that she would put on the dining room table. It was electric and to make it go, you have to press a little lever that fit in a slot on the front with your right leg, just above the knee.

Nana's sewing machine was an old-fashioned “Singer.” It was in the “sewing room” under the stairs at her house in Wallingford . It took up more room than Mom's sewing machine. It smelled oily. The way you made it sew was to push with both feet on a metal plate that moved up and down. That made the sewing needle go up and down, too. We kids were not allowed to touch either sewing machine.

“You could sew the needle right through your finger, if you don't know how to work it,” Nana always warned.

After a week, there was a pile of black curtains all ready to hang on the windows of the rooms of the first floor and even the little windows at the top of the walls in the basement.

Dad said, “Every house in Meriden and Wallingford has to have blackout curtains. Maybe in all of Connecticut. Maybe in the whole country.”

I was disappointed that the bedrooms, especially the bedroom I shared with Buddy, wouldn't have blackout curtains.

“What if I turn the light on—by mistake,” I said.

“Oh, I'll bet you won't,” Mom said, smiling.

So, the blackout curtains were all ready.

They had to be put up so NO light would show out the windows at night.

“We'll have to close them every night before we turn the lights on. That way, enemy airplanes won't see anything from way up,” Mom said. “They won't even know Meriden is here.”

“If they ever come here,” I said, a little worried again.

“That's right, Tomie. If they EVER come here,” Mom said. “Now let's get the bus so we can go to Miss Leah's.”

On the bus to Dancing School, I heard some grown-ups talking.

“All this fuss,” the lady said. “I had to sew and sew and sew those silly blackout curtains. What would enemy planes care about Meriden for?”

“Well,” the other lady said, “we have some important factories here. Why, I understand that every ball bearing that is being used in all the war equipment is made right here in Meriden.”

“Is that true?” I whispered to Mom.

“I suppose so,” she said. “The New Departure factory makes ball bearings. You should ask your father tonight when he gets home from work.”

My dad was the State Barber Examiner for the state of Connecticut. His office was in the State Office Building in Hartford, Connecticut. It was right near the State Capitol building.

Buddy and I had visited Dad's office a couple of times.

Dad had an assistant called Joe Suma. Their job was to visit the barbershops in Connecticut to make sure they were clean. Barbershops were supposed to follow “Health Rules.” One important rule was that barbershops had to have a big jar of blue liquid to keep all the combs in. It was called a “SANITIZER.” It killed germs and stuff.

“If you don't see a sanitizer on the barber's counter,” Dad told us, “don't go in. You might get cooties from a dirty comb.”

I thought Dad's job was very important.

There were two ladies in Dad's office, too. They were the secretaries. My favorite was Miss Monica Schwartz. One time she gave me some stationery with Dad's name on it. I was very impressed. I took it to school, but Miss Gardner just looked at it and said, “That's nice. Now get back to your arithmetic.”

We knew Miss Monica Schwartz pretty well. She was Joe Suma's girlfriend. She had us call her by her nickname, “Monnie.” Monnie and Joe were from Waterbury. It was near Meriden.

Monnie and Joe came to our house for hot dog roasts and parties all the time. Monnie could do somersaults. Dad took home movies of her. She was a favorite of us kids.

As soon as Dad walked in the door, I asked him about the ball bearings.

“Dad, is it true that all the ball bearings used in the war stuff are made right here in Meriden?”

“That's true, Tomie. And guess what? I'm going to be working at New Departure,” Dad said.

“What about inspecting all the barbershops?” Buddy asked.

“I'll still go to Hartford every day Monday through Friday. I'll be working at the factory at night.”