Read While We're Far Apart Online

Authors: Lynn Austin

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #General, #Religious

While We're Far Apart (9 page)

BOOK: While We're Far Apart
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Esther had just put away the last dish when the doorbell rang. Penny got there first, but Esther arrived in time to hear the man say, “Good evening, Mrs. Shaffer.”

“She’s
not
Mrs. Shaffer,” Esther shouted before Penny could reply. “She just takes care of us.”

“I see. Well, I’m Inspector Dalton from the fire marshal’s office.” He held up a silver badge. “I’m canvassing the neighborhood, looking for witnesses to last week’s fire at the synagogue across the street. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I may.”

“I’m sorry,” Penny said, “but I wasn’t here that night. I came the day after the fire.”

“Is Mr. Shaffer home, then?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Penny began. “He – ”

“He left to fight in the army,” Esther finished.

“What’s your name, young lady?”

“Esther Shaffer.”

“Were you home on the night of the fire?”

“Yes.”

“Would you please tell me, in your own words, what you remember?” He pulled a small notebook and a pen from his pocket and wrote everything down while Esther talked.

“We were upstairs when we heard the sirens. Daddy was packing to go away. He made us close the windows because of the smoke, and then we went outside to watch. That’s when we saw our landlord, Mr. Mendel, come out of the burning building. He must have been hurt because an ambulance came and took him away.”

“How did you know it was Mr. Mendel?”

“Because he had on striped suspenders. We talked to him a little while before the fire and he was wearing them then.”

“How did he seem to you earlier that evening?”

Esther shrugged, not quite understanding the question. “Crabby. But he’s always in a bad mood. His wife used to be nice, but she – ” Esther halted, remembering the horrible sound the runaway car made as it crashed into the fruit stand. “His wife died.”

“But you were sure it was Mr. Mendel who came out of the synagogue?”

“Daddy asked one of the other men if it was him, and he said yes.”

“Do you recall anything else?”

She shrugged and shook her head. She didn’t want to remember. Watching the fire had been a terrible way to spend the last night with her father. She never would forget the feeling of the heat on her face, the smoke and cinders that stung her eyes and throat. Or the feeling of Daddy’s hand in hers as they watched the building burn. A year ago, Esther had let go of Mama’s hand, insisting that she was old enough to cross the street without holding hands like a baby. She had left Mama’s side to wander around the vegetable market on her own. This time it was Daddy who had let go of her hand first.

After the inspector left, Penny pulled Esther aside. “Listen, I hope you’re not going to stop talking to me, too. We need to try to get along for your father’s sake. I don’t want to have to give a bad report when I write to him.”

“Go ahead and tell him whatever you want – I don’t care. Maybe then he’ll come back home and take care of us himself.”

Penny shook her head. “He signed up for the army, Esther. He can’t just quit and come home. He made a promise to them.”

“He
has
to quit! They
have
to let him come home!”

“The army doesn’t work that way. If you don’t believe me, ask your schoolteacher. Ask anyone.”

Esther tried to wiggle away, but Penny stopped her. “Listen, would you be happier staying with your grandmother? I can talk to her, if you want. I can see if she’ll change her mind about taking care of you.”

Esther shook her head. “I don’t want to stay at Grandma’s house.”

“I’m doing my best, Esther. I just want to help your father out. I’m sure he’s worried about you.”

“Daddy doesn’t care about us, or he never would have left us!” Again she tried to leave, and again Penny stopped her.

“I just want you and Peter to be happy. What would make you happy?”

“If everything was back the way it was!”

Penny finally let her go, and Esther ran upstairs to her room. Peter was lying facedown on the bed, his favorite Captain Marvel comic books abandoned, his sobs muffled by the pillow. He had left the slate on Esther’s bed, and she picked it up to see what he had written.

I don’t know what’s wrong.
I try to talk and nothing comes out.
Help me!

C
HAPTER 8

O
CTOBER 1943

P
ENNY SNAPPED THE LATCHES
shut on the children’s lunch boxes and stood them on the porcelain countertop. “Okay, your lunches are all packed,” she said. “Don’t be late for school.”

“We’ve been going to school by ourselves for more than a year,” Esther mumbled into her cereal bowl. “Daddy always left for work before us.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Penny could have kicked herself. Why did she always say the wrong thing? “Well, I guess I’ll see you after school, then. Bye.” Penny grabbed her own lunch box and waved to the kids, but they didn’t even look up at her.

Winning their affection was proving to be harder than she’d expected. She had lived with them for nearly three weeks now, but Esther remained cool and distant, and Peter hadn’t spoken a single word to her since she arrived. Eddie sent short notes to her every week – along with much longer letters to his kids – asking Penny how everything was going. How could she tell him that everything was awful? Instead, she wrote long letters back to him, pretending that things were fine. Maybe everything would be fine in another week or so. She didn’t want Eddie to worry – or to find another woman to take her place.

Penny hurried to the corner bus stop and waited with the crowd of black-clothed Jewish men. They made her feel like a sparrow among a flock of crows. Her father would demand that she move home immediately if he knew that she mingled with so many Jewish people every day. That’s why she never mentioned Eddie’s neighborhood when she visited her parents on Sundays. As it was, they would spend the entire afternoon trying to convince Penny to give up this foolish idea and come home. She would never do that. Returning home would mean giving up her dream of marrying Eddie.

When the bus finally arrived, Penny didn’t see any empty seats. Swaying passengers filled the aisle, gripping the leather straps above their heads. She didn’t like to be jammed inside with so many strangers, but if she waited for the next bus she would be late for work. As she hesitated, halting with one foot on the step, a marine in one of the front seats stood up.

“Here, miss. Take my seat.”

“Are . . . are you sure? That’s very kind of you.” He smiled, and Penny thought he might be the same soldier who had sacrificed his seat for her once before. Who could tell with so many men in uniform these days?

“Are you on your way to work, miss?” he asked as they maneuvered to trade places. Penny nodded. Mother had warned her repeatedly not to talk to strangers. The stranger’s smile widened into a grin.

“Don’t tell me,” he said, “let me guess. I’ll bet you’re a . . . what do they call them nowadays? The gals who build ships for the war effort? . . . Rosie the Riveter!” He had such a friendly manner that she couldn’t help smiling in return. He reminded her of Mickey Rooney with his round, youthful face and pug nose – and Penny loved Mickey Rooney’s films. Mickey wasn’t tall and handsome like other movie stars, just plain and ordinary – like she was. He made her believe that ordinary people could live happily ever after, too.

“No, I work at the bus station,” she replied. The marine had gallantly forfeited his seat for her. The least she could do was be polite.

“The bus station is close to the Navy Yard, isn’t it?” he asked. “I’m assigned to the Navy Yard – that’s where I’m headed, in fact.”

Penny’s curiosity momentarily outweighed her fear. Or maybe it was loneliness that caused her to look up at him again and continue the conversation. With her parents mad at her and the children barely speaking to her, she hadn’t had a friendly conversation in days. “What does a soldier like you do at the Navy Yard?”

“Security work – making sure nobody sneaks inside the shipyard who isn’t supposed to be there. It’s no secret that they’re building ships for the war effort, so it’s the Marines’ job to keep out spies and saboteurs. Remember the German spies who came ashore on Long Island a few years ago?”

“I do! There haven’t been more since then, have there?”

“No, and there won’t be if I’m doing my job right,” he said with a laugh. He let go of the strap for a moment when the bus halted at the next stop and offered her his hand. “My name is Roy Fuller.”

Penny found it hard to break through years of fear. She had been frightened enough just boarding a bus every day instead of walking to work. But what could it hurt to be nice? She offered her hand for a quick shake. “Penny Goodrich.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Goodrich.” The conversation ended as more people boarded the bus, pushing Roy farther down the aisle. Penny wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or disappointed. It had felt good to talk to someone and extend a hand of friendship, so when she arrived at the bus station and saw a panhandler begging for food, Penny opened her lunch box and gave him her sandwich. Everyone needed a little love now and then.

She sat at her cashier’s window all morning as bus after bus pulled into the station, disgorging passengers and then filling up again, like a scene from a cartoon. When the morning rush finally dwindled down to a trickle, her thoughts returned to handsome Eddie Shaffer and how he would be coming home on leave in a few weeks. What would he think of the job she was doing for him? Yes, his house was clean and his children were washed and fed, but Peter refused to talk to her, and Esther hated her guts. Penny didn’t know how to win them over. If she wrote to Eddie and complained, he would take his children’s side. Right now he obviously loved them more than he loved her. . . . Loved her? Ha! He barely knew she existed!

Think, Penny, think
. She wished she were smarter and could figure things out better. Should she buy them ice cream and other treats? Take them to the movies next Saturday?

“Miss Goodrich . . . Excuse me, Miss Goodrich?” She turned to see her boss standing behind her in the doorway of her ticket booth. How long had he been there?

“Yes, Mr. Whitney?”

“Would you come into my office, please? I need to talk to you.”

“But . . . my ticket window?”

“You can close it. Miss Napoli can cover things now that the rush is over.”

“Yes, sir.” Penny pulled the shield down over her window and locked the cash drawer, then slid off her stool and followed him to his office. Was she in trouble? Had something terrible happened? Her cash drawer had balanced to the penny yesterday, so it couldn’t be a shortage. Had she accepted a counterfeit bill by mistake?

“Sit down, please, Miss Goodrich.” He motioned to a chair as he sat down behind his desk. Penny obeyed, but worry kept her on the very edge of it, as if she might have to leap up and run.

“Miss Goodrich, I understand that you’ve worked here for more than five years now?”

“Yes, sir. Ever since I finished high school.”

“And you’ve been one of our best workers – smart, honest, and very reliable. How would you like a promotion?”

It took a moment before she could speak. “Me? . . . A promotion?”

“Yes, ” he said, smiling. “And it would include a pay raise, too. I understand you help out your elderly parents, don’t you?”

She nodded, too stunned to speak.

“The thing is, I need bus drivers right now more than I need cashiers. A lot of our drivers are either enlisting or leaving us for higher-paying work in the armament industry. And we need to add more buses to destinations like the Navy Yard and the military bases, with so many servicemen stationed around here. I’m sure you’ve noticed how crowded the buses are these days.”

“I-I don’t even know how to drive a car, Mr. Whitney.”

“That doesn’t matter. We’re starting a training program for new drivers. The company will train you for free, help you get your license, the whole works. I appreciate the fact that you haven’t already left us for a munitions job.”

“That kind of work isn’t for me, Mr. Whitney. I would hate being cooped up in a noisy factory all day. Besides, I hear they make you work long hours, seven days a week at the Navy Yard, and I can’t do that because I’m taking care of two children for a friend of mine who went into the army.”

“Well, this will be perfect for you, then. We can assign you to a bus route right here in Brooklyn, Monday through Friday only. You’ll have seniority since you already work for us. You can do it, Miss Goodrich, I’m certain of it.”

No one had ever shown confidence in Penny before, and she longed to prove Mr. Whitney right. But driving a bus? That wasn’t a job for someone like her, Mother would say. Besides, hadn’t Penny already tackled more changes than she could handle?

“Did I mention that your pay would increase by more than fifteen dollars a week?”

Penny could only stare at him. It seemed like a huge amount of money.

“So how about it, Miss Goodrich? What do you say?”

She didn’t know what to say. “Could . . . could I think about it?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to let me know shortly. The drivers’ training program begins soon. Oh, and if you do decide to sign up for it, you’ll need some form of identification to start the licensing process. A birth certificate will do.”

Penny felt as though she was sleepwalking as she made her way back to her ticket booth and slid open her window. “What was that all about?” the other cashier asked. Penny wasn’t sure if she should tell her . . . then decided that it didn’t matter since she probably wouldn’t accept the job.

“Mr. Whitney asked me if I wanted to learn to drive a bus.”

“Wow! You gonna do it?”

“I don’t know. I’m such a Dumb Dora . . . and I don’t even know how to drive a car.”

“You? Dumb? Are you kidding? Your cash drawer always balances right to the penny, every single day. Mine never does. Boy, if I could get out of this crummy booth I’d do it in a minute!”

BOOK: While We're Far Apart
13.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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