Twisting Topeka (22 page)

ThomasG: I remember my
3
^rd
grade teacher in a
classroom with artwork covering the walls, a gerbil habitat, a
school musical. Who could have known those were the good old
days?

ThomasG: That was the year my science
fair project oozed out of my backpack on the bus.

KateM: I preferred
2
^nd
grade, myself. Our
classroom had a reading corner with beanbag chairs. It was
basically my idea of heaven.

KateM: Your grandad is convinced that
the online school plan would have been okay in the short
term.

KateM: What wasn’t okay
was when the community service opportunities were
privatized.

KateM: And then the Ag lobbyists
convinced the legislature to double and then triple the
requirements to increase food production.

ThomasG: You sound just like grandad.
How often are the two of you talking, anyway?

KateM: And while I like
eating food, I don’t like growing it.

ThomasG: Plus, as I’m sure
my grandad has pointed out in your apparently frequent
conversations on this topic, subverting child labor laws isn’t
particularly on the up and up.

KateM: Jealous much?

KateM: I don’t think it
has to be this way.

KateM: The economy is
picking up in other states. I’ve seen the news trickling out of
Illinois and Oklahoma. Their students never left the
classrooms.

KateM: Supplementing
Kansas agricultural work with student labor can’t continue
forever.

ThomasG: That’s not going
to be easy to undo.

ThomasG: The State Board
of Education testimony to the legislature doesn’t even admit that
the current system is anything less than successful.

ThomasG: And, of course, those guys in
power already had their prom, and their kids are all studying with
private tutors in rich cliques. Why would they change things for us
now?

KateM: Because we’ll make
them, of course.

ThomasG: You and me?

KateM. And your grandad. And anyone
else we can convince that this is important.

ThomasG: No one who had ever seen
KateM in her infancy would have supposed her born to be a
heroine.

KateM: Hey! Wrong book!
That’s the opening line of Northanger Abbey.

ThomasG: Someone needs to learn to
take a compliment more gracefully.

ThomasG: Hey, I think I just chose our
first book club book.

KateM: Both points are duly noted. The
second annual prom committee may be a bit less focused on dressing
up and dancing, and a bit more focused on some of the other things
we are lacking from the public high school experience.

ThomasG: But will you wear the blue
twirly skirt again?

KateM: With sneakers. I’ve
learned my lesson about trying to run in heels.

ThomasG: Okay, I’m in.
Although I’m prioritizing our prom night kiss next time, in case we
get arrested.

ThomasG: Obviously.

KateM: Obviously.

KateM: :P

Dance with the
Devil

Aimee L. Gross

“
Miss Andrews, do you
consider yourself a patriot?”

Odd first question during a
job interview,
Vivian thought.
But it is wartime
. “Of
course I am. I do.”

A man who’d said he was from
Menninger’s phoned and asked her to come for the interview. She’d
carefully put on her last pair of decent stockings, hoping she
might luck into some sort of secretarial job. Working at the
insurance company for her uncle was practically volunteering; he
paid her next to nothing. She could save more if she had a better
job, then she and Jack could get married as soon as he came home
from the war. Fingers crossed, she had been ushered into a private
office at Menninger’s at the appointed time and faced three
men.

The fiercest one sat behind a massive
mahogany desk. When he pointed at an empty chair, Vivian sat. The
other two stood on either side of her. She couldn’t help sneaking
looks at them out of the corners of her eyes. Though not in
uniform, they stood at parade rest, hands clasped.

The man nodded at her answer to his
initial inquiry, and looked down at a file spread open in front of
him. “You and your two girlfriends frequently have lunch at the
Early Bird Café.” He didn’t make it sound like a
question.

“
Yes, we like to go there.
We all work downtown. I suppose if I worked out here, I wouldn’t be
able to go so far away at lunch, would I?”

He held up a hand, and she closed her
lips on her next question. Which was: What kind of a job am I
interviewing for, for Heaven’s sake? Also, what was in that file,
and how could it matter where she ate her lunch?

“
A sergeant from the air
base has recently begun speaking with you and your friends at
lunch, whenever he’s at the café. Would you say he has … taken a
particular shine to you?”

“
If you mean Sergeant
Dawson, he talks to all of us. Lots of men from the base do. And I
have a boyfriend,” Vivian said with a touch of frost.

“
Yes.” The man tapped the
papers on his desk. “Jack Kerrigan. Stationed in England at
present.”

Vivian gripped her handbag and leaned
forward. “Look, Mr.--?”

“
Humphrey.”

“
Mr. Humphrey, can you
please tell me what this is all about?”

And he had.

*****

“
You don’t understand,
I
have to
go to
the dance tonight.” Vivian yanked the handles of the shopping bag
over her elbow as she swayed with the motion of the bus. The bag
held a new dress and stockings, courtesy of the Menninger
Clinic.

Beverly Ryan frowned. “All the way out
to Lake Shawnee? Nobody has gasoline but Julia’s daddy, and when
has he ever let her have the car? He might have to go deliver a
baby or stitch somebody up. Anyway, what’s so bad about a Saturday
night at my house listening to Gene Autry?”

“
It’s not that. I just …
made a promise to somebody that I’d be there.” Vivian tried to
avoid Beverly’s sharp look.

“
If you’re going out there
to two-time your sweetheart with Sgt.
Handsome-is-as-handsome-does--”

“
No! You know I love Jack!
But I have to go tonight. Are you going to help me or
not?”

Beverly sniffed. “This is our stop.
Maybe Dr. Detrick would drive us out there and pick us up
after.”

“
Can you ask him? He likes
you. But you don’t have to come along if you really don’t want
to.”

“
I’ll only be going to keep
an eye on you, Viv. Because you are acting crazy!”

Vivian clapped a hand on her hat as
she stepped down to the brick sidewalk and into a brisk wind. Crazy
was certainly how she felt, and more so with each passing
hour.

*****

The band at the pavilion
played for a packed dance floor. Vivian tapped her foot to
I Got A Gal In Kalamazoo
, and searched the crowd for Sgt. Paul ‘Hollywood’ Dawson.
“Stick to him,” the OSS man at Menninger’s had instructed her. “All
you need to do is watch carefully, who he talks to, what he does.
Be our eyes and ears, Miss Andrews. You have a reputation for being
observant. And, most important, do not intervene no matter
what.”
How am I supposed to see anything
if he doesn’t even show?

Julia Detrick bounced along to the
rhythm beside her. “Look at those handsome boys! Doing our
patriotic duty shouldn’t be so much fun.”

Vivian smiled, barely listening to
her. Dr. Detrick had proved only too happy to drive them all to the
dance. Julia seemed to have sweet-talked her daddy into
chauffeuring her to the lake before Beverly and Vivian asked for a
lift. He cautioned them not to fall for any of ‘that flyboy fancy
talk’ about being generous with affection since the fellows were
headed into danger. “Remember, they’ll tell you anything!” he had
said when the trio finally climbed out of his car.

The doctor’s parting lecture brought
hoots from several soldiers nearby. One of the men called out,
“We’re not flyboys, Daddy, don’t worry. This is the NONCOM party!”
and hoisted a mug of beer. Vivian had felt as though every eye in
the crowd traveled over her as they made their way through the gate
into the gaily-lit stone pavilion. Wolf whistles accompanied them,
from left and right. Her face burned at the memory.

At the end of
Kalamazoo
, Beverly
returned from the dance floor, breathless and limping. Her partner
offered to get her a beer, but she declined and waved him away. She
leaned on the wall next to Vivian to rub her foot. “I’ve never seen
such huge clod-hoppers. If he can’t maneuver those feet to dance,
how can he march without tripping?”

When Vivian didn’t respond, Beverly
straightened. “So, is he here?”

“
Who do you
mean?”

“
Oh, please. I’m not the
one who ‘promised someone’ to come tonight.
I’m
not standing there in a new
dress and with new stockings, too. Did you think I wouldn’t
notice?
And
, I
don’t have a beau an ocean away fighting for our country,
either.”

Julia’s eyes flew wide. “Who did you
promise, Viv? Spill the beans!”

Hollywood Dawson stepped in front of
them before Vivian could think of an answer. “All my favorite
Topeka girls! Who’s going to get the first dance,
ladies?”

Beverly gripped Vivian’s elbow and
propelled her forward. “Reverse alphabetical order
tonight.”

The sergeant flashed his killer smile
and offered his arm. “Let’s dance, darlin’.”

He’s been so sweet. Could
he be a traitor? OSS might be wrong about him
, Vivian thought. He held her gently and guided her across
the floor to the strains of
Don’t Sit
Under The Apple Tree
. For a haunting
moment, the crooner at the microphone sounded just like Jack’s warm
tenor
. Oh, Jack, I’m doing my part for
America. You’d understand, wouldn’t you?

The sergeant reached up to smooth her
curls back from her ear and brought his lips close to whisper, “Ah,
Miss Andrews. You look especially beautiful tonight. Blue is
definitely your color.”

“
Thank you, Sergeant. I
can’t call you Sarge or Hollywood like the guys do, shall I just
call you Paul?”

She felt his smile against her cheek.
“They pinned that one on me when I got here. It’s what I get,
coming from Pasadena. Paul will do, though you can call me anything
you like.” His arm snugged around her waist. “Vivian.”

OSS believed Paul was the one sending
information to the Nazis, data about planes and munitions, troop
destinations. Beetle-browed Mr. Humphrey said she could help her
country, and help Jack, by finding out how the information flowed
from the middle of the USA to its overseas destination. There must
be a secret network of spies, right in Topeka.

Paul steered her back to her friends
with the last notes of the song. Julia sprang forward with a giggle
and Paul whirled her away onto the crowded floor. A pair of earnest
soldiers approached and asked Vivian and Beverly to
dance.

“
We’ll sit this one out,
thanks.” Vivian fanned herself. “It’s so warm tonight.”

The men turned away, and Vivian heard
one say, “Hollywood gets all the good-looking ones. It ain’t
fair.”

Vivian tried to track Julia’s yellow
chiffon dress across the dance floor. Paul Dawson hadn’t talked to
anyone besides the three of them, as far as she had seen so far.
And why was Beverly acting so hostile … was she jealous of Paul’s
attention?

Vivian didn’t look her way, but said
mildly, “You haven’t asked me about my interview at
Menninger’s.”

Beverly appeared to be watching the
dancers also. “How did it go? Did they offer you a job?”

“
I haven’t heard anything
yet. I thought the interview went well, but you never
know.”

“
That’s right, there’s no
way of knowing what
some people
are thinking.” Beverly rose on her toes as Paul
and Julia eased away from the edge of the dance floor and joined
others at the refreshment table.

“
Are you thirsty?” Beverly
asked, and without waiting for an answer, she set off toward the
opposite side of the room. Vivian dogged her every step.

As soon as he caught sight of them,
Paul brightened. “Next on my dance card!” he cried, as he spun
Beverly away.

“
Paul’s such a dream boat.
I don’t blame you for liking him, Viv. Beverly says she likes him,
too, but I really think he likes you best of all.” Julia took a sip
of Coca-cola. “I mean, what Jack doesn’t know can’t hurt
him.”

“
Julia Detrick, what is
wrong with you? I love my Jack with all my heart.” Vivian hunted
for Beverly’s magenta dress on the dance floor. There, by the
bandstand. Paul leaned in toward the bass player and spoke to him,
holding Beverly at arm’s length. Vivian couldn’t stifle a small
gasp as she watched Paul reach into his pocket and extract
something small. He slipped this into the bass player’s pants
pocket, and looked quickly over his shoulder before he plucked a
small brown paper sack from beneath the sheet music
stand.