“Good night, doll-face.”
I spin on my heels, reminding myself of my distaste for that name, doll-face, but for some ridiculous reason, hearing it from his mouth makes my heart skip a beat. It’s obvious I’m not as tough as I thought. I can’t even fan myself off as I walk down the row of houses because I have yet to hear the motor of his car ignite. He’s watching me until I make it home. It’s a sweet gesture. He isn’t like the boys I have snuck around with before. Everett is by far the truest definition of a gentleman.
I’m not sure he can see the small wave I offer before opening the front door to my house, but I’m certain he can’t see the smile on my face. Dad, however, will be much too aware of the look on my face. I pull in a deep breath, relax my shoulders and rush through the door, swinging around as usual while hanging my pocketbook up on the coat hook. “How was the casserole?” I ask, noticing the sleepy look in his eyes.
“Supper was great. Thank you, Elizabeth. How was the picture?”
I turn back for my bag, retrieving the dollar he gave me before I left the house. I don’t have change to show I spent the quarter. My eyes widen as I try to think of a quick reason. “The theatre was having some difficulties with the film and it had to restart several times. It was quite a nuisance, so we were all given our money back.” I turn to face Dad with the dollar bill.
“You didn’t stop to have a bite to eat? I figured you and Audrey would have a snack at least.”
“Oh, you know we made a silly bet, and she owed me a coke and a popcorn, so she paid tonight. I guess it was just a lucky night.” Dad is looking at me with speculation and a raised brow. “The theatre didn’t give you twenty-five cents back when they refunded you?”
“Well, of course not. They were counting out the seventy-five cents, but I handed them change I already had and took the dollar instead. It’s much easier to carry than a handful of coins. Right?” I’m no stranger to making up stories on the spot, and by the look on Dad’s face, my response comes quick enough to satisfy his curiosity.
“You’re a smart girl, Elizabeth. Good thinking, sweetheart.”
“What can I say? I’m a chip off the old block.” I might take my act a little too far sometimes. “Well, I’m off to bed now. Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, Elizabeth.” Dad clears his throat and releases a groan as he leans back into the old sofa. I assume he will sit there for the next hour speculating on the different ways I might fib about my night, but if James doesn’t make a peep, I think I have my bases well covered this time.
12
Current Day - October 2018
When I openmy eyes to find the sun in the middle of the sky outside my window, I realize it’s the middle of the day rather than first thing in the morning. I hate naps. It’s something children take so they don’t become cranky by mid-afternoon. Plus, it means I must recapture every thought I held clearly in my mind before falling asleep. Another clean slate with nothing but empty walls where memories used to hang. “How was your nap, sweetheart?” Keiki asks from the chair next to my bed.
“Well, I don’t quite remember, but I suppose it was just like any other nap,” I say with a grin.
“I can imagine,” Keiki says with a soft laugh. “Daniel left for a bit. I thought you may have exhausted yourself from answering his questions.”
I push myself up on the bed to lean upright against my pillow. “Daniel?”
“Yes, dear, Makena’s husband, he was here to pick your brain about Pearl Harbor for an article he’s writing.”
“I thought I was dreaming about that,” I say with a sigh. “Keiki, would you be a darling and find my journal? I believe I left it out on the—out there,” I say, pointing outside.
Keiki hurries outside and retrieves my leather-bound journal and hands it to me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s just that sometimes I leave notes in here for myself so I can remember what happened earlier in the day.”
Keiki places her hand down on top of the leather. “Sweetheart, I don’t think you’ve written anything in that book for quite some time now.”
I look up at her worrisome eyes, wondering how she could know such a thing. “Oh, don’t be silly, I write all my greatest memories in this book. See, I’ll show you.” I open the flap and fan through the first several dozen pages. “Ah, here, this is recent. I wrote about those beautiful birds I see every morning.”
I press my finger to the ashen page and read the words aloud.
After the white birds with red wings filled the sky, everything has changed. There is darkness at night, nothing but the stars and moonlight glistening against the rippling waters. Streetlights are merely for decoration rather than use, and electricity is something we can only appreciate during the daylight hours. The grocery lists are shorter, our suppers less filling. We’re learning to appreciate what we once had, and it’s a lesson we must have needed. To have nothing feels as though we once had it all.
Sirens sing in the night, sometimes in the morning, but when the call goes out, we secure our gas masks as quickly as we can. It’s for practice to expect the unexpected. The rubber seal will protect us from a poison gas attack and offer the ability to inhale purified air, but the clunky canister hanging from my face makes me feel like I’m suffocating. My skin becomes damp and itchy, and it’s hard to see through the dark eye holes. It’s a daily reminder of the danger we cannot escape and losing the freedom this country has fought so hard for.
December 21, 1941
“How about some tea? Would you like that?” Keiki asks as I reach the end of the page I was reading.
“Maybe this passage isn’t new,” I digress. “I can clearly recall that time when we had to follow so many rules and live like we were in the dark ages at night. What a year that was—I truly did not know what was to come. I was more concerned about being caught in a forbidden romance than an earth-shattering change to our world.”
With a gentle tug, Keiki takes the journal from my hands and places it on my nightstand. “Sweetheart, I’m going to go put the tea kettle on the stove. Maybe you could watch some television for a few minutes. It’s just about time forYoung and the Restless, your favorite,” she says, handing me the remote control.
