Shell Shocked (5 page)

“Sure … I guess,” Jack said.

“We all just started working at the plant,” Daphne said, “but none of us have seen you around.”

“I haven't seen
you
around either,” he said.

“That's not surprising,” Doris said. “There are so many people who work here.”

“Ten thousand,” Juliette said.

“That's nine thousand people more than the whole town where I grew up in northern Ontario,” Doris said.

“So, which section do you work in?” Daphne asked.

“I don't work here,” he said.

“Where do you work?”

“I'm in school,” he said, looking down at the floor. “High school.”

“So he's a smart one, too,” Juliette said.

“Sure beats the heck out of working around here!” Daphne exclaimed.

“I'm only staying in school until I'm old enough to enlist,” Jack added.

“And how about you?” Juliette asked me. “You wouldn't happen to be seventeen as well, would you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, I was thinking a really
short
seventeen. Or maybe sixteen. Sixteen would be okay.”

“I'm twelve!” I exclaimed.

“I guess that is a little young.” She paused. “When do you turn thirteen?”

“Juliette!” Doris shrieked, and Daphne and Jack both laughed. “That's not proper!”

“What? He's the second most eligible male I've seen tonight.” She reached over, stuck her hand in my popcorn bag and took some. “Look at him,” she said, “you have to admit that he is cute.”

“And
twelve
,” Doris said.

“I was thinking we could be friends for three or four years, until he turns sixteen.”

“And you'll be twenty-one,” Daphne added.

“Oh, my goodness, by then I'll practically be an old maid.” She turned back to me. “So, when is your birthday?”

“July tenth.”

“Oh, that's so perfect! I've always wanted a summer wedding!”

There was a gale of laughter that Jack joined in on, and it felt as though every pair of eyes in the lobby was now looking at us.

“Here, take this,” I said as I pressed my bag of popcorn into Daphne's hands.

“I was hoping for an engagement ring, but this is a start,” she said, and everybody laughed again.

I turned and rushed away, heading to the safety of the men's washroom.

“I'm just kidding, honey!” she called after me. “We don't have to get married right away!”

There was more laughter. Now I
knew
everybody was looking at us. I pushed the door open and quickly closed it behind me.

I took a deep breath and looked around. Thank goodness I was alone … wasn't I? There were two stalls. There was nobody at either of the urinals and the doors to the two stalls were partially open. I pushed one open and then the other. Nobody in either.

High above the sink was a window, propped open. If I climbed up on the sink I could reach it, and it was
definitely big enough for me to get through. I could lower myself down to the ground below and escape and … no, that was plain stupid.

I turned on the cold-water tap and splashed some water on my burning cheeks. Maybe I wasn't going to climb out through the window, but that didn't mean I had to walk out any time soon. I went over to one of the stalls and closed the door behind me, making sure it was securely locked. I didn't have to go, but this was as good a place as any to sit and wait.

Then, as I sat there, I realized how silly this was. I'd faced Nazi agents, been tied up, hit on the head, kidnapped and threatened with death, and here I was sitting in a stall in the washroom because some girl—some
stupid
girl—had said some things that were embarrassing. Really, they should have been embarrassing to
her
. I wasn't the one acting all goofy and saying silly things. The only reason she'd gone on and on was because she knew it was getting to me. Well, I'd show her.

I got up, opened the stall and marched toward the door. I stopped for a brief second, took a deep breath, and then walked out into the lobby and … I didn't see her, or the other girls, or Jack. There were people standing at the counter waiting for popcorn or candy or soda, but none of those four was anywhere to be seen. The girls must have gone into the movie, and Jack must have gone home.

Great, I'd have to walk home by myself. Well, at least I wouldn't have to put up with what he was going to say to me. No doubt he'd enjoyed the whole humiliating scene.

“George!”

I turned around. A woman—a very old woman—working the candy counter waved me over. Who was she, and why did she know my name? She'd probably overheard the whole conversation.

“This is for you,” she said. She pushed a soda and a big bag of popcorn across the counter.

“For me?”

She nodded. “From your brother. He paid for them and told me to look out for you.”

“Where
is
my brother?”

“He went into the movie.”

“But he didn't want to see that movie.”

“He went in with those three young ladies.”

My eyes widened slightly in shock.

“He said you should join them.”

“Yeah, like that's going to happen.” I took the popcorn and soda and walked away. I wanted to sit down somewhere and think things through. I looked around. There was no place to sit. Actually, in a theatre there were hundreds of places to sit … and I
did
want to see the movie. I would go back in. But I wasn't going to be sitting anywhere near them.

“
I DON'T KNOW
why you're so mad,” Jack said as we walked home in the dark.

“Who says I'm mad?”

“You haven't said a word to me since we left the movie.”

“Maybe I only talk when I actually have something to say. That's an idea your new friends might want to think about.”

“They were only pulling your leg, George. Don't be such a whiny little baby.”

“Better than being a stupid, giggling schoolgirl.”

“They're not schoolgirls.”

“No, I was talking about you. You should have heard yourself, Jack, giggling and laughing at every stupid thing they said. I can't believe they don't think you're seven instead of seventeen.”

“Hey, that wasn't my fault!” Jack protested. “It wasn't me who told them I was seventeen!”

“Yeah, you're the one who was going to tell them you're fifteen and blow your cover … you
idiot
.”

Jack grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. Maybe calling him names wasn't the smartest thing to do.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” he demanded, staring me down.

There were only two possible things to do now, and I didn't feel like doing the apologizing one because I wasn't sorry.

“I guess the idiot who couldn't keep his cover story straight, so that would be you.”

I waited for him to do something, take a shot at me, but he didn't.

“And telling them I was seventeen didn't break my cover story either?” he said. “I'm only supposed to be sixteen, so who's the idiot now?”

“You're still the idiot. A guy might lie and say he's older because he's trying to impress some dame, but he wouldn't lie and say he's younger.”

I brushed his arm away and turned and started walking again.

“Look, at least they apologized to you.”

I had to admit that they had done that.

“I told them they had to,” Jack said.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I told them the only one allowed to pick on my little brother was me.”

That sounded like something Jack would say.

“Did you see Mr. Granger?” he asked.

“I saw him.”

Mr. Granger had been standing outside the Community Hall when we'd left, off to the side, watching everybody.

“Do you think he saw us?” Jack asked.

“He and I made eye contact, and he gave me a little smile and a nod before he turned away,” I said.

“I guess he can't do anything more than that.”

“Nope. He has no reason to know us, and if he talked he'd be jeopardizing our cover.”

Mr. Granger could certainly blow our cover, because he knew us from before. But Bill had told us once that he'd trust Mr. Granger with his life, so that was good enough for me. Funny, with him being in charge of security at a place filled with explosives, where our mother worked, right beside where we lived, I guess we
were
trusting him with our lives.

“Owww!” I screamed as Jack punched me in the arm. “What was that for?”

“That was for calling me an idiot … even if I was one.”

* * *

I turned over and flopped down in the bed, trying to get more comfortable. I took the pillow and folded it over so it was twice as thick and put it under my head. It was too dark to see the clock but it had to be close to one by now. I'd heard Mom come in at about twelve-thirty, and that was at least half an hour ago, maybe longer.

I could still hear her moving around in the kitchen. She had her own sleep problems. She'd had them since our father had shipped overseas. I knew she was worried about him, the same way I was worried about him
and
her. Sometimes she'd go three or four days with hardly any sleep. You could see it in her face. Then she'd finally give in and use some of that sleeping powder, and at last she'd get a good, solid rest. Those nights a tank could have rolled through our house and she wouldn't have noticed. I wished she'd use that powder more often, but she said she didn't want to get “dependent” on it.

Her moving around, things moving around in my head and Jack snoring—all were working to keep me awake. And Jack's snoring was getting worse. Maybe I needed to ask him to move to the chesterfield for a few days.

The door to the bedroom opened a crack. A thin line of light appeared, and then the silhouette of my mother as she peered in. I closed my eyes and lay perfectly still—I wanted to make sure that she didn't know I was still
awake. There was no point in worrying her any more about my sleep problems.

Her checking on us was a good sign. That was one of the last things she did every night before she went to sleep herself. After that, I knew I'd be able to drift off. Maybe. At least with it being Friday night I didn't have to get up early for school. I could even have a nap tomorrow, if I wanted to. So could Mom. And starting Monday she'd be on day shift, which meant I could get to sleep earlier for the next two weeks because I wouldn't be worried about her coming in so late.

I heard the front door open and my ears perked up. Why would she open the front door? Maybe she was checking to see that it was locked. I heard it close again.

Sometimes I'd get up in the middle of the night to check it myself. Then I'd go and look in on my mother to make sure she was in her bed asleep. I knew that was silly, but I had to look. I'd stand there in her doorway, stock-still, hidden in the dark, holding my breath, listening until I heard her softly breathing or saw a slight movement in her bed that let me know she was there and everything was fine.

I heard footsteps outside … or did I? They were very faint. Probably it was only somebody walking by. But whatever was out there—if it was anything more than my imagination—was now gone. Either way, there was
nothing I could do about it. I needed to turn over and get to sleep … but I was more awake now than ever. Maybe I still needed to get up and check the door myself.

Quietly I climbed out of bed. Moving silently on bare feet I padded out of my room, using one hand against the wall to steady and guide me. Across the living room, light shone in through the front window and lit my way to the door. I jiggled the handle ever so slightly. It was locked all right. As expected. I could go to sleep now. Or maybe I should just look in on my mother. But she might still be awake, and then she'd ask me why I was still awake. I could tell her I was going to the washroom.

It was only a few steps to her bedroom. Her door was open and the lights were out. I peeked in around the corner and looked and listened. I couldn't see anything, and the only thing I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. Was she even in bed? But where else could she be? I looked around. Obviously she wasn't in the living room, and the bathroom door was open and the light was out so she wasn't there. The kitchen was dark as well. This was one of the few advantages of living in such a small house. She
had
to be in bed.

I took a small step into my mother's room. I didn't want to startle her but I had to see. I stopped and listened again. Nothing. No sound. And while I saw something in her bed—a dark shape—it really didn't look big enough
to be her. I went closer and closer, turning my head to listen. Finally I stood right over her bed. I reached down and took the corner of the blanket and pulled it away. There were two pillows in the bed where she should have been.

“
EARTH TO GEORGE
.”

I started at Jack's voice. “Yeah?”

“The pancakes,” he said.

I looked down at the platter of pancakes sitting beside me.

“Pass the pancakes, you little goof.”

“Jack, there's no need for you to talk to your brother like that.”

“Well, I wouldn't have to if he'd passed them the first time I asked.”

“Sorry, didn't hear you,” I said.

“Did you sleep all right last night?” my mother asked.

“I slept okay,” I lied. “How about you?”

“I slept like a baby,” she said. “I was asleep soon after I got home.”

I looked at her. That was a lie, but she was telling it so
well that if I hadn't known it was a lie I never would have suspected.

“Really? That's great, because I know you usually have trouble getting to sleep right away when you've been on swing shift,” I said.