For the Duration: The War Years (11 page)

Then Uncle Tony got quiet. “Just like those Nazis did to Anthony's plane.”

We just stood there—watching the searchlights, listening to the sirens.

“Well, this is how it's gonna be for the duration,” Uncle Tony said, and we went back down to the apartment.

The grown-ups were sitting around the table, with candles burning, talking.

“Okay, boys,” Mom said. “Time for bed.”

Buddy and I were supposed to share the sofa.

“I'm not sleeping with him,” Buddy said. “He stays awake and moves around all the time.”

“Tomie can sleep in my bed with me,” Cousin Terry said.

“Sissy,” Buddy whispered in my ear.

I woke up early the next morning. I quietly crept into the living room so I wouldn't wake anybody. I looked at the window. There was Aunt Kate's Gold Star Mothers' flag. It was up so high that I wondered if anyone could see it.

I guess the birds can see it,
I thought,
or maybe angels.

After the Memorial Day mass for Blackie, we all went back to Aunt Kate's and Uncle Tony's. It was real hard on Aunt Kate. She sat in a chair in the small living room, just looking at Blackie's photograph and crying.

The long ride home was quiet. I guess we were all thinking about Blackie. I was really happy when we turned the corner of Fairmount Avenue. Somehow I felt good—and safe—at home.

Chapter Thirteen

When I went to bed last night, my diary key was under my pillow. I didn't know how it got there, but I was really happy that it was found. I waited until I heard Buddy sleeping, then I took my diary and key and crept quietly down the hall to the bathroom. I shut the door and climbed up to turn on the light over the sink. I sat on the floor and unlocked my diary.

Someone had scribbled all over the pages and drawn bad pictures, too.

My diary was all spoiled! I closed it and locked it. I went back into the bedroom. Then I heard Buddy's voice whispering from across the dark room.

“If you tell, I'll get you.”

It was then I decided to throw my diary away. I decided I'd never write in a diary again. I would REMEMBER everything I could. My thoughts would be safer in my head.

I answered Buddy with a whisper of my own.

“I won't tell—anybody.”
Why is my brother so mean?
I wondered. I guess it's just like a war. I guess I'll have to put up with him for the duration.

My First Holy Communion wasn't like I thought it would be. All the boys wore white shirts, white ties, white shorts, white jackets, long white knee socks, and white shoes—everything white. The girls wore white dresses, socks, and shoes, and white veils like little brides. But the first thing that went wrong was that one girl fainted from not being able to eat (because you had to fast before your First Holy Communion). So all the partners changed and instead of Jean Minor, my partner was a girl I didn't know from St. Joseph's School named Patty Tierney.

Then, when we were all kneeling at the altar rail, a boy started yelling, “It's stuck in my throat! I'm choking to death.” A Sister rushed up and whisked him away. There was a bit of giggling from some of the kids—and some of the grown-ups, too.

After the mass, we marched down the steps of the church over to St. Joseph's School, where long tables were set up so we could have breakfast. We had orange juice, milk, and doughnuts. Then Mom and Dad took me home because I had to change for school. So much for a special day!

On Sunday, though, when we went to church, I was able to go up to Communion with my family for the first time. That made me happy.

The last week of school turned out to be lots of fun. First of all, I won our final spelling bee.

At the School Dance assembly, our class did a minuet and Jean Minor was FINALLY my partner.

And—HURRAY!—I passed, so I'll definitely be in third grade next year.

Dad got his gas ration card today. He got a “C” because he works for the State of Connecticut and needs to drive around for his job. There's a sticker with a “C” on it to put on the windshield, and a book of stamps. Every time he gets gas, he has to pay and give one of the stamps, too. “C” means that he can get more gas than “A‘s” and “B's.”