A Woman's Place (21 page)

She sighed with relief when the first person bade everyone good night and left the party. She hurried to the bedroom to retrieve her coat, then searched for Harold. She found him in a corner of the living room, dancing with Ruth. He was holding her much too closely. When the song ended, he kissed her on the cheek. He seemed surprised when he looked up and saw Ginny.

“Why do you have your coat on?”

“Because I’m ready to leave. I’m sorry to steal your dancing partner, Ruth. By the way, where is your husband stationed again? I know you told us at the women’s club, but I forgot.” She felt pleased when Ruth’s cheeks turned pink.

“He’s in New Guinea.”

“New Guinea. That’s right. Let’s hope the war ends soon so he can come home to you and the kids, right?”

Through an act of sheer will, Ginny managed to keep herself together as she and Harold thanked their host and hostess, said good-bye to everyone, and left the party.

“Are we supposed to pick up the boys?” Harold asked as he started the car.

“No. They wanted to spend the night at Jean’s house.” Ginny had planned it that way so she and Harold would have the house to themselves, but she already knew that the romantic evening she had hoped for would never come to pass. She was furious with Harold. And judging by the silent car ride home, he was equally furious with her. When they finally walked through the kitchen door, she could no longer hold back her tears.

“You were flirting with Ruth Harper just to hurt me, weren’t you?”

Harold yanked his tie loose. “I wasn’t flirting. She reminded me of you—the way you used to be.”

“Are … are you going to divorce me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t want another wife, I want the one I married back!”

“I haven’t gone anywhere, Harold. I’m right here.”

“You know what I mean. I want things back the way they were. I remember when we used to have people over like Gloria and Al did tonight. We used to do things together on Saturdays, too. Now you’re up to your neck in housework every weekend and every evening instead of sitting with me and listening to the radio. You fall into bed exhausted every night.”

“That’s because this country is fighting a war. Doesn’t anyone care that Hitler and the Japanese are trying to take over the world? I don’t understand how Ruth and Betty and all those other women can go on living as if nothing has changed.”

“I want things back the way they were, Ginny.”

“For your sake or for mine?”

“If you’re implying that my motives are selfish, you’ve got a lot of nerve. I let you have your own way for the past six months, hoping you would get it out of your system and come to your senses and stay home. Or else that you’d tire yourself out and finally quit. I’m losing my patience.”

“Why didn’t you defend me tonight? You know how important the war industries are. And you know how badly they need women workers. Yet you didn’t say a word about any of those things. They were mocking me, Harold.”

“They were mocking me, too!” he said angrily.

“How? No one said a single word against you.”

“You should have heard what the men were saying behind your back. The implication was that I had lost control over you. That my household was in chaos.”

“That isn’t true. This household isn’t in chaos.”

“You know what I think, Virginia? I think you went to work because you’re ashamed of me for not fighting.”

“What? That’s not true—”

“You’re always rubbing it in my face, how you’re working to help to win America’s freedom—as if I’m not.”

“How can you say that? Your work is vitally important! That’s why the government gave you an exemption.”

“I was the only man under forty who wasn’t in uniform tonight. Do you know how many questioning looks I get every day? How many snide comments I hear wherever I go? I get strangers coming up to me and asking, ‘Where’s your uniform, Bub?”’

“Oh, Harold … I had no idea.”

“Several men implied that we must need the money, that my business must be on the rocks since I had to send my wife out to work to support my family. How do you think that makes me feel? And then there’s the fact that you’re working in a shipyard, of all places! What kind of a man gives his approval to a job like that? They know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t want my wife working there—so what kind of a husband lets his wife rule the roost?”

“A patriotic husband, one who wants to stop the Nazis and the Japanese. A man who loves his wife and gives her freedom.”

“You had all the freedom in the world when you were home all day running our household.”

“Not to do what I wanted to do. You don’t want to have any more children, you won’t let me mother the two we have—what else can I do to feel useful? Do you even care how good I felt when I watched that ship being launched the other day? I had played a part in it!”

“The life I’ve given you isn’t enough?” he asked quietly. “This home? Me? I’m not enough for you?”

Ginny didn’t reply. She didn’t know the answer. She watched her husband turn his back and walk away, aware that they were even more
estranged
than ever before, and she made up her mind to resign from her job on Monday morning.

CHAPTER 18

*
Helen
*

“
What?
They can’t do that!” Helen tossed the Saturday morning newspaper down on the kitchen table in disgust.

“Something wrong, Miss Helen?”

She looked up in surprise. Used to living alone, Helen had forgotten that Minnie’s granddaughter, Thelma, had come to clean the house today.

“Did you read the morning paper, Thelma?”

“Not yet.”

“It says that the government is setting up an internment camp to house German prisoners of war at Stockton Lake, of all places! Listen to this: ‘The site has been chosen to be one of several branch camps under the control of the Army’s Sixth Service Command at Fort Custer.’ Well, I’m not going to sit by idly and allow this to happen. They can’t bring those filthy Germans here!”

“Them prisoners got to go somewhere, don’t they?” Thelma asked. She was a pretty, soft-spoken girl, about the same age as Rosa Voorhees, and a very hard worker. She had begun cleaning the moment Helen had let her in the door—sweeping, dusting, mopping, scrubbing—and she hadn’t let up since.

“Well, I certainly don’t want any Germans here,” Helen said. “As far as I’m concerned, they should be sent to a deserted island somewhere.”

“You know, there’s people feeling that way about us colored folk, too. They don’t want us living in their towns or going to their schools.”

Helen looked at Thelma in surprise. “I’ve heard that’s true down south, but surely not up here?”

“Up here, too, Miss Helen. I graduated from high school over in Detroit, then took an electrician’s course and got me a first-class certificate. But I couldn’t find a factory job in Detroit or anyplace else. That’s why I’m still cleaning houses.”

“Did you apply at Stockton Shipyard?”

“Yes, ma’am, I sure did. They’re saying there’s no openings right now.”

“That’s absurd. Earl Seaborn is always complaining that we’re shorthanded. I’ll talk to him about it first thing Monday morning.”

“Thank you, Miss Helen. I’d sure appreciate you putting in a good word for me. But I don’t think it’s gonna help. Not unless the color of my skin changes between now and Monday morning.”

“Do you really believe there’s racial discrimination here in Stockton?”

“I know there is, Miss Helen.”

“Well, I’ll talk to Earl Seaborn and see what I can do. And you can be sure that I’m going to speak to someone about the German prisoners, too. In fact, I think I’ll go downtown right now and speak with the mayor.” She rose from the table and headed toward the front closet to fetch her coat. She was still a Kimball, and her name still wielded power in this community. She had known the mayor, Archie Walton, for years.

The front doorbell rang, interrupting Helen’s momentum. She yanked it open and found Rosa Voorhees on her front porch again.

“Rosa! Now what?”

“I got to thinking about what you told me,” Rosa said, talking as if she and Helen were already in the middle of a conversation. “How I should figure out what I want my future to be? But you said your father forced you and Jimmy to break up because he didn’t like him, and that got me worrying about Dirk’s father. What if he tries something like that?”

“My situation was completely different from yours, Rosa.”

“But I know his father doesn’t like me, and—”

“What about Dirk’s mother? Didn’t you say you were getting along better with her?”

“I guess so, most of the time. But Mrs. Voorhees is like two different people. We get along okay when it’s just the two of us, but she would never, ever go against her husband. She does whatever he says.”

“Look, it’s too cold to be standing here with the door open. Come in.” Helen knew she sounded ungracious, but she had neither the time nor the patience for Rosa’s problems. Helen let her in as far as the front hall, but she didn’t offer to take Rosa’s coat. “Listen, Jimmy and I never had a chance to get married. But you’re Dirk’s wife. I can’t imagine that his parents would try to change that.”

“But what if Dirk changes his mind? What if he decides that his father is right and that I’m no good for him? What if he starts seeing me the way his father does, and—”

“Rosa, Rosa … when I said to think of the future, I never meant that you should imagine all the bad things that might happen.”

“I can’t help worrying. Dirk and me didn’t get to know each other for very long before we got married. It was kind of a quick thing. To tell you the truth … we were both a little drunk the night we decided to elope.”

Helen suppressed a shudder. This was dreadful. She didn’t want to hear about Rosa’s private life, and she certainly didn’t feel qualified to give advice. Why had Rosa come here, of all places? Then Helen remembered that Ginny had planned a special night with her husband this weekend, and Jean was going home to Indiana. Was it simply that Helen was the only person left?

“Sometimes I wonder if Dirk sent me home because he wanted me to learn how to be like his mother. Maybe he hopes I’ll be the kind of wife that she is, but I know that I can’t ever be. She makes bread and soup from scratch, and the only soup I can cook is the kind that comes in a can. I thought all bread came from a bakery until I seen his mother making it.”

“Does Dirk talk about things like that in his letters? Is he pressuring you to be more domesticated?”

“No, and I’m afraid to bring it up. I hardly ever talk to Dirk about his parents, and I sure don’t tell him that me and his father aren’t getting along. I want to change and be the kind of person his mother is, but I can’t. I try and try and I just can’t be any different.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Rosa,” Helen said with a sigh. She wished she knew how to get rid of her.

“Dirk is nearly finished with his corpsman training. He’s going to be shipped overseas to where the war is in March…. And I’m just so scared!”

Helen saw Rosa’s lower lip tremble and feared that she would start crying like she had the last time. How on earth would Helen comfort her if she did? Thankfully, Thelma interrupted them as she made her way down the hall with the roaring vacuum cleaner. She shut it off in surprise when she saw the two of them near the front door.

“I thought you left for downtown, Miss Helen.”

“I’m on my way. Thelma, this is Rosa Voorhees. We work together at the shipyard. Rosa, this is Thelma King.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rosa said. “Hey, Helen, if you’re going downtown, can I hitch a ride with you?”

“If you’d like.” Helen didn’t want to know what business Rosa had in downtown Stockton. She simply wanted to drop her off somewhere and be rid of her.

Rosa talked on and on about Dirk as she and Helen walked out to the garage, as they climbed into the car, and as they drove downtown and parked near the village hall. Helen was only half listening as she marshaled all of her arguments against the internment camp. She barely noticed that Rosa was still following her until she walked into the mayor’s office and his secretary said, “May I help you ladies?”

“Yes, I’m Helen Kimball. I’d like to speak to Archie—Mayor Walton—if he has a moment.” She was ushered into his office a few minutes later with Rosa still tagging along behind her. The plump, balding mayor sat behind his desk with his shirtsleeves rolled up, teetering dangerously on the hind legs of his chair. He plopped forward, then stood and straightened his necktie as they entered.

“Helen! How are you?” he asked, offering her his hand. “What brings you here on a cold Saturday morning?”

Helen decided not to complicate matters by introducing Rosa. Who knew what that girl was likely to say? “I came because I was appalled by what I read in the newspaper this morning, Archie. A prisoner of war camp in Stockton? We simply cannot allow it.”

“I know, but—”

“Those German soldiers will be a danger to our community. What can we do to stop this?”

He sighed and sank back onto his chair, gesturing to the two seats in front of his desk. “Nothing. Believe me, Helen, I already asked. That’s state-owned land out there. It’s out of my control.”

“Couldn’t we petition someone at the state level, then? I would be happy to get the community mobilized. I’ll even take the petitions door-to-door myself if I have to.”

“Won’t do any good. The deal has already been made over in Lansing. The state officials did promise me, though, that only common soldiers would be assigned here. No Nazi Party members, no officers, no troublemakers of any kind.”

“Oh, come on, Archie. They’re
all
troublemakers.”

“Well, I think there must be a lot of young German boys who wound up being drafted without any say in the matter. I’m sure they just want the war to end so they can go home to their families—at least, that’s what the state promised me.”

“There are no
good
Nazis and
bad
Nazis—a German is a German!”

He seemed taken aback by her vehemence. After a moment he said, “I appreciate your concern, but I have much bigger fish to fry. Our town has been growing so rapidly with the shipyard and all, that I can’t keep up with all the problems. Do you know our population has tripled in just one year’s time? Housing is an issue, and so is rising crime. With so many other concerns, I just don’t have time to fight this prisoner-of-war thing. If you want to do it on your own, go right ahead. And if you think of anything I can do, let me know. Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do, but my hands are tied.”

“When is the next town board meeting?”

He consulted his calendar. “Two weeks from today.”

“Put this issue on the agenda. I’ll be back.” Helen stalked from his office, mumbling, “This is absolutely unacceptable. Germans are loathsome creatures…. I hate them all!”

“Do you hate me because I’m Italian?” Rosa asked as they walked to the car. “We’re fighting Mussolini and the Italians, too.”

“Of course not. You were born here. Those prisoners are native Germans. And I find it very hard to believe that any of them are innocent. They allowed Hitler to come to power, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Rosa seemed shocked by Helen’s fervor, too. Why wasn’t everyone outraged by the POW camp? “Where can I drop you off, Rosa? Your house?”

“Are you going back home?”

“No, I’m going to drive out and look at that property, see how far along the project is. Maybe it isn’t too late to stop it.”

“Can I go with you?”

“I suppose.” For the life of her, Helen couldn’t understand why Rosa was tagging along like her shadow. She retrieved her car, and the two of them headed out of town.

How long had it been since she’d driven out to Stockton Lake? Helen couldn’t recall, but she did remember the hours and hours she’d spent out there with Jimmy. Memories of him seemed to be popping up, unbidden, ever since she’d started working at the shipyard. To be driving out here now under these circumstances seemed like an enormous injustice. Bringing German soldiers to Stockton was bad enough, but to let them live in the very woods that Jimmy had loved so much seemed an outrage.

It never occurred to Helen as she drove out of town that the back roads might not be plowed. But as she turned off the county highway and saw that the private road to the lake had been cleared recently, she realized that the project had probably been well underway before the newspaper reported it. Her huge car bounced through ruts and potholes, rattling Helen’s teeth and causing Rosa to hang on to the grab bar for dear life.

They finally pulled to a halt in a plowed area at the end of the road. Two state-owned trucks were already parked there. Beyond a half-finished barbed-wire fence, the clearing resembled a military camp with three bunkhouses, toilet buildings, an elevated waterstorage tank, and several smaller buildings, all covered with a clean blanket of snow. The only sign of life was a curl of smoke that rose from what must be the cookhouse.

“Looks to me like it’s already built,” Rosa said.

“They put this camp together during the Depression,” Helen told her. “It was another idiotic idea our government had. They built all this in 1933 as an emergency resettlement camp to get the bums off the streets of Chicago. The idea failed, thankfully. We didn’t want the bums hanging around our town any more than the people in Chicago did. But hoboes seem tame compared to Nazis.”

She shut off the car engine to conserve gasoline. In the winter stillness, Helen heard the faint rustle of leafless branches, the distant call of birds. The snow lay sparkling in gentle drifts.

“It’s real pretty out here,” Rosa said in a near whisper.

“Yes, it is. This camp seems especially obscene to me because I used to come out here with—” She stopped. She was talking too much. Rosa didn’t need to know her personal affairs. But she had already said too much.

“With Jimmy?” Rosa asked.

Helen nodded reluctantly. “I taught him how to drive out here on these roads. Of course, they were just dirt roads back then. This was always such a beautiful spot, overlooking the lake.”

“Did you used to sit here and neck?”

“Rosa! Honestly!”

“Whoops. I did it again, didn’t I? Ginny says I always ask questions that are too nosy. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I would be scared to sit way out here in the woods at night with wild animals and things. I’m a city girl. But it’s real pretty here in the daytime. I could see sitting here with a cute guy and … talking …”

“I may be a spinster, Rosa, but I’m not completely ignorant of the birds and the bees. If you must know, Jimmy and I did spend time out here kissing. But we spent time talking, as well, about all sorts of things. Jimmy was a very intelligent man and he thought deeply about life.”

Helen watched a row of clouds shift and change as they blew across the sky above the lake and remembered how much Jimmy enjoyed talking about God and his faith. He had read every book in the Stockton Library on the subjects of theology and religion—not that there were many to choose from. Helen remembered one discussion in particular as if it had happened yesterday. Jimmy had spoken with such passion as he’d talked about Jesus’ love for all the social misfits, and he was impatient with Helen’s church for not modeling Christ to the underprivileged people in town, calling it a social club, a place to dress up and be seen.