Her Daughter's Dream (3 page)

Charlie groaned loudly. “Not a mutt. Can’t we get a German shepherd, Dad?” He’d stayed overnight with a friend whose family had a new television set. “Roy Rogers has a German shepherd. Bullet runs so fast, he’s like a streak of lightning.”

Oma looked unconvinced. “And where’s he going to run? A big dog like that needs space.”

Charlie wasn’t about to give up. “We’ve got a yard in front and a yard in back.”

Dad kept eating. “I wouldn’t have to worry as much with a police dog around. He’d have to be trained, though. I know someone who can give me pointers.”

A few days later, Dad lifted a ball of fur with drooping ears and bright brown eyes out of his car. He handed the pup to Carolyn, who snuggled it against her chest. “Hang on. He wiggles a lot. Don’t drop him.” He laughed as the pup licked Carolyn’s face. “I think he likes you.”

After that, Carolyn spent most of the day outside with the puppy, which they named Bullet. When she went inside, he sat by the front door and whined until she came back out. Mommy would come out and sit on the porch while Oma worked in the kitchen, and Carolyn ran around the yard, Bullet on her heels, leaping, yipping.

* * *

Whenever Oma went anywhere, Carolyn went with her. Sometimes they drove as far as the strawberry fields in Niles, where Oma talked with the Japanese farmers and bought flats of fruit to make jam. Other times they went to the cheese factory by the bridge over the creek that ran through Paxtown. Oma would take her into the storage room with the old Greek gentleman, who bored samples from big wheels of cheese while he and Oma talked of their old countries. Oma ran all the errands for the family: she shopped at Hagstrom’s grocery store, picked up supplies for repairs at Kohln’s Hardware, and bought clothes for Charlie and Carolyn from Doughtery’s department store. Sometimes Mommy argued with her about that.

Every Sunday, Oma took Carolyn to the Presbyterian church while Daddy and Mommy and Charlie stayed home. Daddy always said he had work to do, and Charlie stayed home because Daddy did. Once a month, Oma took Carolyn with her to the farm in Murietta. While Oma talked with the Martins, Carolyn climbed into the tree house or fed carrots to the white rabbit or watched the chickens. Carolyn slept with Oma when they visited the farm.

Carolyn didn’t suck her thumb when she slept in Oma’s big bed. She curled up against Oma and felt warm and secure. She dreamed about tea parties with the white rabbit that ate carrots from her hand. He stood on his back legs, tapped his foot, and told her he wanted ice cream tomorrow. She giggled in her sleep.

Everything felt good and safe and comfortable.

3

1952

It took almost a year, but Mommy got better, just like Oma said she would. She spent more time out of her room than in it. She sat at the kitchen table with the family, and she spent time in the living room, though she didn’t encourage Carolyn to sit beside her or get too close. “Just play on the rug where I can watch you.” Charlie built forts with Lincoln Logs; Carolyn colored in her coloring books or sat plastered to Oma’s side, listening to another story.

Often at night, Carolyn would hear Mommy and Oma talking. Sometimes they raised their voices.

“I can do the dishes, Hildemara.”

“I’m not an invalid anymore.”

“Calm down—”

“I don’t want to be calm. I don’t want to sit by and see you do everything for Trip and my children. I’m strong enough now to do some of the work around here.”

“I’m trying to help!”

“You’ve helped enough, Mama. Sometimes I think you help too much.”

Once Carolyn overheard Daddy. “That’s between you and your mother. Stop complaining! She saved us, Hildie. We’d be further in debt than we are now if she hadn’t come and helped us out.”

“That doesn’t mean it can go on like this forever, Trip. This is
my
family. Mine!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“You don’t see what I see. I’m losing—”

“It isn’t a contest.”

“You don’t understand!”

Carolyn became frightened when her parents fought. She stuck closer to Oma, hoping she’d never leave.

Mommy moved back into Daddy’s big bedroom. A truck came and took away the hospital bed and rolling tray table. Mommy scrubbed the floors and walls and painted the room pink. Daddy moved Carolyn’s furniture in. Oma found a round braided rug and trunk for her toys, and she bought fabric with flowers all over it and made curtains.

Bullet jumped the fence and chased the mailman. The poor dog had to be on a chain after that. Daddy built a house big enough for him and Carolyn to sit inside.

Oma said having a room all your own was a luxury, but Carolyn didn’t like being in a room by herself. She was afraid the monsters would move in under her bed again.

When Oma packed her suitcase, Carolyn watched, confused. “Where are you going?”

“Murietta.”

Carolyn went back to her room and packed her little suitcase, too, just like she always did when Oma took her down to Murietta for a weekend at the farm.

“You’re not going with me, Carolyn.” Oma sat on her bed and lifted Carolyn to her knee. “You’re going to stay here with your mommy.”

“I want to go with you.”

“You belong here.”

“No, I don’t.”

Oma hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “I hope I haven’t stayed too long.” She set Carolyn on her feet. “You be a good girl for your mother.”

“I love
you
.”

Oma cupped her face and kissed each of her cheeks. “I love you, too,
Liebling
. Don’t you ever forget that.” She stood and took Carolyn’s hand. “Come on, now.”

Everyone stood outside on the porch. Oma said good-bye, giving each of them a hug and kisses on both cheeks, all except Mommy, who wouldn’t let her. “Have it your way, Hildemara Rose.” Oma shook her head as she went down the front steps. Carolyn tried to follow. Mommy clamped hold of her shoulders and pulled her back.

“No!” Carolyn struggled, but Mommy’s hands tightened, her fingers digging in painfully. Carolyn screamed. “Oma!
Oma!
”

Oma turned her head away, backed out of the driveway, and started down the street. Thrashing, sobbing, Carolyn tried to break free. “Stop it,” Mommy said in a broken voice.

Daddy caught Carolyn by the arm and slung her around. He shoved her inside the front door. When she tried to run out, he lifted her under his arm and carried her kicking and screaming down the hall. “
Stop it!
You upset your mother!” Cursing, he flipped Carolyn over his knees and whacked her twice, hard. The pain shocked and frightened her into silence. Daddy flung her onto the bed. Face red, eyes black, he bent over her, a finger pointing at the middle of her face. “You move and I’ll give you the spanking of your life!”

Daddy’s hand trembled. “I don’t want to hear you cry again. Do you understand me? No more tears! You think you have it tough? I saw kids half your age in bombed-out buildings, scrambling for something to eat. They didn’t have mothers who loved them or took care of them. Their mothers had been blown to bits! Oma’s gone home. Life goes on. You make your mother cry and I swear I’ll . . .” He made a fist.

Daddy’s face changed. He ran a hand over his face and left the room.

* * *

The door opened, awakening Carolyn. She stuck her thumb in her mouth, her heart beating wildly. She hadn’t budged from where Daddy had put her. Not even when she needed to go to the bathroom.

Mommy stood in the doorway. She grimaced. “You had an accident, didn’t you?”

Carolyn scooted back on the fouled bed, shaking violently.

“It’s all right.” Mommy pushed the door wider. “Everything’s going to be all right.” Her mother didn’t come into the room. “No one’s mad at you.” She spoke at a distance. “Trip!” Her mother’s voice broke.

When she heard her father’s footsteps, Carolyn scrambled back farther, all the way to the wall. Tears ran down her cheeks. Mommy was upset again, and Daddy would be mad. Carolyn remembered Daddy’s face, his fist, and his promise. When Daddy appeared in the doorway, she took little gulping breaths.

“She needs a bath.” Mommy wiped tears from her cheeks. “A warm bath, Trip, and talk quietly. She looks like she’s in shock.” Mommy spoke in a choked voice. “I’ll strip the bed and wash everything.”

Carolyn didn’t remember how she got from the bed to the bath. Daddy showered her first and then put a capful of bubble bath in the tub and filled it with warm water. He talked in a happy voice, but he didn’t look happy. His hands shook as he washed her. Despite the warm water, Carolyn shivered all over. When he lifted her out, she stood still while he toweled her dry and dressed her in pajamas.

“You’re going to use a sleeping bag tonight. Won’t that be fun? You’ll be snug as a bug in a rug.”

She wanted Oma, but she didn’t dare say so. She wanted Bullet, but she didn’t think Daddy would let her sleep in the dog’s cozy little house. She wanted Charlie.

The radio played in the living room. Daddy tried to untangle her hair. “Mommy is making a nice dinner for us. You tell her how good it is. You say thank you.” He gave up on her hair and tossed the brush into the sink. The sound made Carolyn jump. Turning her, he lifted her to his knee and pressed her head against his shoulder. “I know you’re going to miss Oma, Carolyn, but you’re our little girl.” She sat limp, hands like dead spiders in her lap. If she moved, would Daddy hit her again? He set her on her feet. “Go on in the living room.” He spoke gruffly. She went quickly. Before going through the doorway, she looked back.

Daddy sat on the closed toilet lid, his head in his hands.

* * *

Carolyn did everything Mommy and Daddy told her. She didn’t question; she didn’t argue. Sometimes, after everyone had gone to bed, she would open her bedroom door and creep down the hallway to Charlie’s room and sleep curled up in a blanket by his bed. On cold nights, he let her snuggle with him. Sometimes she awakened early enough to go back to her own bed so Mommy wouldn’t know she slept in Charlie’s room.

The family went to church every Sunday. Carolyn liked Sunday school. The nice teachers read the same stories Oma had. She liked to hear the singing coming through the wall from the sanctuary and wished she could sit in there with its long red carpet and high ceiling and steps leading up to the cross with gold candlesticks and white candles flickering on the table.

One day after church, Daddy turned the car in the opposite direction from home. “I think I’ve found the place.” Daddy smiled at Mommy. Charlie sat tall, peering out the window. Carolyn couldn’t see anything.

Daddy turned off the road. The car bounced and jostled. “This is it.”

“Look at that tree!” Charlie rolled his window down. “Can I climb it?”

Daddy stopped the car. “Go ahead.”

Mommy protested. “It’s too tall.”

“He’ll be fine, Hildie.”

“Be careful!” Mommy called after Charlie.

Daddy laughed. “Relax. He’s a monkey.”

Mommy looked back as Daddy drove on. “An English walnut tree. We could probably get enough nuts off that one tree to pay part of the property taxes.”

Daddy grinned. “Just like you to be so practical.” He stopped and got out of the car. “Come on. Let’s walk the property. See what you think of it.”

Carolyn got out after they walked away. She looked for a big tree and spotted her brother high among the branches. Walking back, she stood near the trunk and looked up. Charlie straddled a high branch. She wandered back and heard Mommy and Daddy talking.

“Can we do this, Trip? I mean, neither of us knows anything about building a house.”

“We can learn. I’ve already ordered books from the library. The bank will loan us enough to buy the property. We haven’t the money to hire an architect or contractor. We’ll have to do it ourselves, Hildie.”

“You really want this, don’t you, Trip?”

“Don’t you? You’re the one who says she misses having space around. You talk about the farm all the time.”

“Do I?”

Daddy took her hand and kissed it. Drawing it through his arm, they walked together. Carolyn followed far enough behind not to be noticed, close enough to hear. “Just think about it, Hildie. We could stake out the house wherever we want it, hire someone to dig a well. We’d build a shed first to hold whatever tools I’d need to get started. Having a shed would save time in hauling everything back and forth. We could come out a couple times a week after I get off work, get started on the foundations, work weekends. Nothing fancy, just a simple house; one big room to start, add the kitchen next and a bathroom. As soon as we move in, we can add on two more bedrooms.”

“You’re talking about an awful lot of work, Trip.”

“I know, but we’d be building something for ourselves. How else are we going to have our dream home in the country unless we do it?”

“It’s a long way from town and schools.”

“Only two miles, and there’s a school bus. I already checked about that. All Charlie has to do is walk to the end of the driveway. He’ll be picked up and dropped off every day.”

Mommy looked around again, frowning this time. “I don’t know, Trip.”

Daddy turned her to face him. “Breathe the air, Hildemara.” He slid his hands up and down her arms. “Aren’t you tired of living in a house closed in on all sides by other houses? and gossiping neighbors who avoid you like the plague? Wouldn’t you like our children to grow up the way you did? in the country with space around them? They’d be safe and free to roam out here. No more living in the shadow of a federal prison.”

Stepping away, Mommy bent down and picked up a handful of soil. She smelled it and crumbled the dirt in her hand, letting it sift through her fingers. “Smells good.” She brushed off her hands. “We could build a tent-house to start, use a Coleman stove, keep supplies in the trunk of the car, dig a hole, and build an outhouse.”

Daddy grinned. “Now you’re talking!”

“We could put an orchard of walnut trees up front, plant fruit trees, a few grapevines, and a vegetable garden over there. We could have chickens . . .”

Daddy pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When he drew back, Mommy’s face looked pink. Daddy smiled and took her hand. “Let’s figure out where to put the house.”

Carolyn watched them walk away. She wandered back to the walnut tree and watched her brother climb from one branch to another.

Mommy and Daddy called out. “Charlie! Carolyn! Come on, you two. Time to go home and have lunch.” Carolyn climbed into the backseat. Charlie sounded winded from his fast climb down and run to the car. Daddy started the car. “We’re going to build a house here, kids. What do you think about that?”

“We’re going to live out here?” Charlie sounded worried.

“Yes.”

“But what about my friends? If we move, I’ll never see them.”

“You’d see them in school.” Daddy turned onto the road. “And Happy Valley Road has plenty of kids. I saw one riding a bicycle and another one riding a horse.”

“A horse?” Charlie’s eyes brightened. “Can we get a horse?”

Daddy laughed and glanced at Mommy. “Maybe. But not right away.”

No one asked Carolyn what she thought about moving away from the only house she had ever known. Carolyn had no friends or playmates. Only one thing worried her. “Will Oma know how to find me?”

Mommy and Daddy exchanged a look. “Of course.” Daddy nodded. Mommy stared out the window.

* * *

Every Friday after work, Carolyn’s father drove the family out to “the property.” They went through Paxtown with its Old West buildings, through meadows, and over a hill with a cemetery. Happy Valley Road was the first left on the other side of the hill. Dad had set up a tent-house. Charlie would take off to climb the big walnut tree; Mom laid out sleeping bags on the platforms, set up the Coleman stove, and started dinner. Dad’s first project was to dig a deep hole and build an outhouse. Next, he built a shed for his tools and put a heavy padlock on the door.

Left on her own, Carolyn wandered with Bullet. When he scared a man’s sheep, Dad drove a steel stake deep into the ground and attached a chain to it. After that, Bullet could only walk in circles. He’d run until he wound himself tight, and Carolyn would walk him in circles the other way until he had more freedom.

Charlie knew everyone on the road within a few weeks. He took Carolyn over to meet their next-door neighbor. Lee Dockery had beehives behind his house. “Call me Dock.” He leaned down, smiling at her. “‘Hickory, dickory, dock, the mouse ran up the clock.’” His fingers walked from her stomach up her chest and tickled her under the chin. She giggled. He said she could come over anytime and gave them each a honeycomb dripping with sweetness.