A Tiny Piece of Sky (23 page)

ALSATIA CLUB

141 WEST WASHINGTON STREET

HAGERSTOWN, MARYLAND

August 4, 1939

Mr. Hermann A. Baum

Baum's Restaurant

N. Jonathan Street

Hagerstown, Md.

Dear Hermann:

We wish to take this means of expressing to you that we feel the recent rumors of espionage, in which you were reported to be involved, are absolutely false and unwarranted.

It is very unfortunate that the rumors in question were circulated since there appears to be no foundation whatsoever for the same. In our opinion you are entirely exonerated of any part in these so-called German Spy reports.

To you as an Alsatian and a Citizen of this Community we want you to know that the Alsatia Club, as a real American Organization, is behind you 100% and have our wholehearted support.

Very sincerely yours,

ALSATIA CLUB, INC.,

Rex D. Gaver

REX D. GAVER CHR. BOARD OF GOVERNORS

FRATERNAL ORDER OF EAGLES

HAGERSTOWN'S LEADING FRATERNITY

HAGERSTOWN AERIE NO. 694

AERIE HOME:

49 SOUTH POTOMAC STREET

HAGERSTOWN, MARYLAND

PAY YOUR DUES TO

SECRETARY

JOHN R. KERR

HAGERSTOWN, MD.,
R.D.5

August 6, 1939

Mr. Hermann Baum,

Hagerstown, Md.

Dear Sir and Brother:

We wish to express our confidence in you as a member of Aerie 694, Fraternal Order of Eagles, and as a fellow American.

We are sure that you have furthered at all times the patriotic, the humanitarian and the fraternal teachings of our order and that you have tried steadfastly to make your home and your business house the abiding place of thoughts and acts that are wholesome and righteous.

We are sure you have given and will continue to give our country the devoted loyalty of a patriot.

You have always been alive with the spirit of liberty, a stalwart of truth, the possessor of a keen sense of justice and a firm believer of equality.

Thusly we express our confidence in you as a member of our fraternity and as a citizen of our great Democracy, the United States of America.

Fraternally yours,

John R. Kerr

John R. Kerr

Secretary Aerie 694

Fraternal Order of Eagles

HAGERSTOWN LODGE

B.P.O. ELKS, NO.378

August 13, 1939

Brother Hermann A. Baum

N. Jonathan Street

Hagerstown, Md.

Dear Brother Baum:

At the regular weekly meeting of Hagerstown Lodge No.378, B.P.O. Elks, held this evening, the Lodge unanimously instructed the Secretary to write to you and express its unqualified confidence and faith in your patriotism and citizenship.

We deplore and condemn the malicious gossip being circulated throughout this community in the past several weeks and express our deepest regret that you should be made the target for such gossip.

Be assured that we, as your brothers in the Order of Elks, will do all that is humanly possible to right this wrong.

Sincerely and fraternally,

Exalted Ruler

John E. Travers

MORRIS FROCK POST NO. 42

THE AMERICAN LEGION

25 WEST ANTIETAM STREET

HAGERSTOWN, MD.

August 17, 1939

Mr. Hermann Baum

Baum's Restaurant

Hagerstown, Md.

Dear Mr. Baum:

It has come to our attention that a rumor has been circulated that our local post of The American Legion has been boycotting your establishment because of your purported relationship with the German Beneficial Union.

This letter in no way commits our post as to our opinion or attitude in reference to the merits of the German Beneficial Union, but we are convinced that you have become an innocent victim.

On behalf of The American Legion, I take this opportunity to assure you that the report of our boycott is in error and you will be favored with our future business whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Yours very truly,

Commander

Paul H. Smit

FRANKIE STUFFED THE LETTERS
down the neck of her dress and set off to find Joan. She found her on the side porch, putting the laundry into Mother's wringer washer. “What are you doing?” Frankie asked.

“Mother told Katie she wouldn't be needing her help around here, what with Daddy in a bad way and not working,” said Joan. She poured in the powdered soap. “Do you know how to work this thing?”

Frankie shook her head. “Never mind that. Look at these.” She pulled the letters from her dress and shoved them at Joan. They sat on the edge of the porch, and Frankie waited, swinging her legs, while Joan read each one.

When Joan finished, she tucked the letters back into their envelopes and laid them on the porch next to her. “It seems this is too late.”

“No,” said Frankie. “It isn't too late if Mother wants to open up the restaurant again. That's what Daddy wants.”

“Mother doesn't want anything to do with that place,” said Joan. “You've heard her.”

“But we have to change her mind,” said Frankie.

“I don't understand you, Frankie,” said Joan. “If Mother opens
the restaurant, you'll have to work there. We all will.” She got to her feet and went back to the washer. She closed the lid. “I thought you hated working there?”

Frankie looked up at the sky. “I thought so, too.”

•   •   •

Daddy was still sleeping when Mother returned from the market that afternoon. “How is your father?” Mother asked as she finished putting away the bag of groceries.

“Same,” answered Frankie. “Tired.”

Mother filled a glass of water from the spigot and took a few sips. “Where's Joan?”

“Feeding Dixie.”

Elizabeth folded the grocery bag and slid it into the cabinet under the sink. “Mother, do you need anything else?”

“Check the clothes on the line, would you, Princess?” said Mother. “They ought to be dry by now.”

Elizabeth slipped out the kitchen door and headed for the backyard.

“Anybody come by today, Frankie?” Mother asked.

“Just Mr. Dawes from the bank,” said Frankie. “And Uncle Reinhart.”

“Mr. Dawes?” said Mother. “He came here?”

Frankie nodded. “But I sent them on their way after ten minutes, don't worry.”

“What did he want?” asked Mother.

“He wanted to talk to Daddy about the restaurant,” said Frankie. “He thinks we should make it open for business.”

Mother's mouth tightened. “He said that, did he? Well, that's very easy for him to say. And what did your uncle have to say about that? Does he think the same?”

Frankie shook her head. “Uncle Reinhart thinks Daddy should sell the place.”

“Well, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm with Reinhart.” Then Mother narrowed her eyes. “Frances Marie, how many times have I warned you about eavesdropping? You're not to be listening in on conversations that don't concern you, understand?”

Frankie said that yes, she did.

“Good,” said Mother. “Now, what else was said?”

“That's all, pretty much.” Frankie didn't want to tell Mother the part about Daddy still paying the employees even though the restaurant was closed. What would happen to Amy and Mr. Washington and Seaweed if Mother made him stop?

Mother leaned against the sink basin and brought her hand to her head. “Why did all of this have to happen? This is punishment for something, all this bad luck.” She looked up at the kitchen ceiling. “What in the world are we going to do now?”

“We could open the restaurant,” Frankie offered.

“Let me tell you something—if we opened that restaurant, we'd have nothing but a bunch of empty chairs. There we'd be, watching the people walk right on by our door, seeing their faces and knowing they think Hermann's in cahoots with Hitler.”

Frankie fingered the letters she had stashed in her dress. “But not everybody thinks that.” She pulled out the letters. “Look.”

“What are those?” said Mother, eyeing the envelopes. “This is your father's mail. Frances Baum, you have no business reading these.”

“But they are from people who think he is innocent,” said Frankie.

“He
is
innocent!” shouted Mother.

Frankie nodded. “I know that. But now we know that other people know that, too.” She swallowed. “So maybe the restaurant will be all right if we open.”

There was fear in Mother's eyes. Enough that she didn't say another word. She just took the letters and headed down the hall to check on Daddy.

IN THE EARLY AFTERNOON
of the twenty-fifth day of August, Aunt Edith came downstairs from her apartment with freshly painted lips and eyebrows the shape of horseshoes. Ava and Martha followed, in their Sunday dresses. Only, it wasn't Sunday.

“Girls,” called Aunt Edith, marching through the Baums' living room. “Girls!”

Mother and Elizabeth were at the dining table sorting through Daddy's medical bills, and Frankie and Joan were in bed with Daddy, taking turns reading the day's newspaper articles to him. “I think you're needed out there,” Daddy told them.

“What for?” asked Frankie.

“Why don't you go see,” said Daddy, grinning. “I'm all right. Go on, I've got Bismarck to look after me.”

Frankie and Joan looked at each other and then took off down the hall. When they got to the dining room, Aunt Edith's red lips were in a smile, and as Ava and Martha stood on either side of her, Aunt Edith had her hands covering their mouths. Ava and Martha were wiggling to get loose, but the three of them stuck close together like they were trying to hide a whale behind their backs.

“What's going on?” asked Joan.

Mother smiled and said, “Go get dressed, girls. Aunt Edith is taking you to see a picture.”

“Really?' said Elizabeth. “Which one?”

Aunt Edith said, “Well . . .”

Before she could get any more words out, Ava knocked her rear end into Aunt Edith's thigh, setting her off balance and causing her hand to lose its grip over Ava's mouth. “We're going to see
The Wizard of Oz
,” announced Ava, victorious.

“No fair!” shouted Martha, when her mouth was free. “We were all going to tell them together! And now you ruined it!”

“The Wizard of Oz!”
Frankie and Joan shouted together, jumping up and down.

Then Frankie stopped. “But what about Daddy?” she asked.

“It was his idea,” said Mother. “Don't worry, I'll stay here with him. You can tell me all about it when you get back.”

The girls got dressed in a hurry and returned to the dining room before Aunt Edith had a chance to finish a glass of iced tea. “Let's go,” said Frankie. “Can we sit in the front row? I want to get as close as I can to Oz.”

The cinema was only a few blocks from the Baums' apartment, and the six of them set out walking, with Joan and Frankie racing Ava for the lead. The farther they got, though, the slower Frankie's steps were. She fell behind Ava, Joan, and Elizabeth, and then kept pace with Aunt Edith and Martha, even when Joan turned around and bet her she could beat her and Ava in a race.

“What's the matter, Frankie?” asked Aunt Edith.

Frankie shrugged. “I guess I'm not used to being away.”

Aunt Edith squeezed Frankie's shoulder. “That's why your father thought this would be good for you. Being cooped up in that apartment for weeks upon end, that's no good for anybody. And don't you worry, now; your mother is home with him.”

It was an odd thing, Aunt Edith telling Frankie not to worry, when Aunt Edith worried more than anyone—except Mother, of course. But her reassurance seemed to work, at least for now, as Frankie put aside her troubles as best she could and got her legs into a run to catch up with the others.

As the cinema came into sight, Ava pulled ahead of Joan at the last minute and was the first to get to the movie poster that was hanging in the front window. “See,” Ava said, pointing, “here it is!”

When Frankie caught up, she couldn't take her eyes off of Judy Garland as Dorothy. “‘Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's Technicolor Triumph,'” Frankie read from the poster. “What does that mean?”

“It means the picture is in color,” said Elizabeth. “Not black and white.”

Frankie's heart raced. “Come on, let's go inside.”

Aunt Edith paid for their tickets and they made their way down the stairs into the dark theater. Frankie found six seats together in the front row. “Just think,” whispered Joan to Frankie, “we'll be this close to Judy Garland.”

Frankie nodded, then looked behind her to see how many others were there to see the picture show. All around her the seats were filling up, but a young girl and her brother sitting in the colored section at the back of the theater caught her eye. The top of the boy's head barely stuck out above the seat in front of him, and when he complained, the girl lifted him onto her lap. As the little boy squirmed and craned his neck to see, Frankie thought about Seaweed.
What you see out of those green eyes of yours ain't nothing like what I see. And what you see ain't nothing like it is.
She was able to sit in the front row and as close to the picture as a person could get, when
that little girl and her brother couldn't, when they didn't even have a choice in the matter.

This was how the world was, she knew, for she had seen it every day. But she had hardly given it much thought before now, to tell the truth. Yet, the way Daddy was treated because of what people believed him to be set her mind thinking about how colored people were treated. All unfairly, and all because of what people believed them to be.

What a frightening thing for her to realize, that what some people believed could be so cruel, and could be so wrong. What a world this was.

The lights dimmed and Frankie turned around to face the screen. The newsreel started up, but there was no relief there from the world's problems. There was talk of war and, of course, of Germans. “Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union surprised the world by forming an alliance and signing a nonaggression pact on August twenty-third,” read the news bulletin, “whereby both countries agreed to take no military action against each other for the next ten years.” Then President Roosevelt talked about these troubled times, and how democracy must be a positive force in order to maintain liberty against aggression abroad. Troubled times indeed, thought Frankie. The president seemed to be talking directly to her.

When the newsreel ended and the picture finally began, the words
The Wizard of Oz
appeared on the screen. Everyone in the theater cheered. Frankie looked for Judy Garland's name and for L. Frank Baum's, too, and when she saw them both, she elbowed Joan in the side.

“There you are,” whispered Joan.

The dull, gray Kansas sky was on the screen for some time. In fact, everything in Kansas was gray, it seemed, not unlike Hagerstown. Frankie knocked knees with Elizabeth beside her. “I thought you said this picture was supposed to be in color.” Elizabeth shrugged and then told her to be quiet.

A while later, after the cyclone lifted the house along with Dorothy and Toto and carried it away, Frankie whispered, “This is not what happens in the book. And that awful lady Miss Gulch was not in the story.”

“Shh,” said Joan.

Judy Garland or not, Frankie was having some doubts about this picture already. But when Dorothy opened the door to Oz, well, Frankie's mouth fell open. The colors, oh my, oh my, those colors took all the words away.

Except for these last ones from Frankie, which she whispered to Joan: “I bet that's what it felt like when you got to Aunt Dottie's.”