“Then come with me!”
“How long have you been thinking about this and not telling me?”
“There’s so much you could do in the city,” Dash pressed. “The military would be lucky to have you. You’d have them shipshape in no time.”
Dot dropped her eyes to the wet road. She was happy at home, living a quiet life. The last thing she wanted was change. Especially if that change separated her from her sister.
“What would I do there?”
“Anything,” Dash said, walking on. “Secretary, clerk, telephone operator… Think about it. Working isn’t just interesting, it’s our duty.”
The passion in Dash’s voice made Dot’s heart pound. She caught up to her sister. “I don’t understand,” she said quickly. “What’s so exciting about working in the city? And why is it our duty?”
“Calm down, Dot. You’re talking a mile a minute.”
Her family was always reminding her to speak more slowly. Dot tended to forget that in the heat of the moment. “Why. Is. It. Our. Duty.”
“Because women are a big part of this war now. We have to work so men can fight.”
Dot reluctantly let the idea percolate as they walked. Frankly, she’d prefer to sit out the war at home, but without Dash the house would be so bleak. It might be diverting to be a secretary, she supposed; she liked to type, her shorthand was excellent, and maybe she could help with Morse code. If they let her, she could reorganize files and folders until she was blue in the face. She did love to organize things. Her mother was always thrilled when Dot suggested she could set the kitchen to rights. Maybe whoever she worked for would have a Marconi, like the one her father had told them about. Nowthatwould be interesting.
But no, she couldn’t go. Not only did the thought paralyze her with fear, how could she possibly leave her parents behind? Especially her father. Her mother went out with friends on occasion, but he rarely did. Dot welcomed those nights when she could have him all to herself. When he didn’t have one of his headaches, they would sit contentedly at the kitchen table in near silence, seeing who could solve the crossword first, or they’d set out a new jigsaw, or they’d share whatever other amusement caught their interest. No. Dot couldn’t possibly go to the city and leave him.
Beside her, Dash was skimming a screwdriver under the tip of her nail, cleaning out the dirt. Sensing Dot’s attention, she put her arm around her. “Calm down, silly.”
“When?” Dot demanded.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ll go see what it’s all about in a few weeks, I guess. Why wait?”
Dot could think of a hundred reasons.
“It’s going to be fun,” Dash said with confidence. “A big adventure.”
Adventure. Well, that was just about the last thing Dot wanted to think about.
twoDASH— July 1942 —Oshawa, Ontario
With bobby pins between her lips, Dash ran a hairbrush through her thick, dark waves until they crackled with electricity. She gathered it all together in a practiced move, tied it with a red ribbon, and pinned the flyaways. Leaning close to the mirror, she applied lipstick, pressed her lips together, then turned her head to the side, making sure all was well. She frowned at a blemish on her cheek, but it was too late to do anything about that now.
It was also too late to change how she’d told Dot she was considering going to the city to work. The idea had been burning in her mind for months, and she felt so much better now that it was out in the open, but surely there’d been a kinder way to do it. One that wouldn’t have caused such a stricken expression to flash across her sister’s face.
Poor Dot. After their walk home that night, she’d acted like the crab Dash had chased around on their one and only beach vacation to California and disappeared into her shell. She had barely spoken a word to anyone since then. She wondered if Dot’s silence came from anger or if she was actually considering the idea of getting a job in the city, but it was impossible to know. Either way, Dash wasn’t backing down.
“I’ve waited long enough,” she told her reflection.
It felt like forever since cousin Fred, Gus, and almost all the other boys from school had shipped out to war. Their departure had left Dash as the only young mechanic left around here, which she had appreciated at first, but the shine had faded. She wanted something else now, and whatever that was, she wanted to do it anywhere but in this small town.
She thought about the boys often. Especially Fred and Gus. Fred was a pilot like his father, so he had joined the RCAF. Shortly after he’d gone, Gus had quit his job at Pedlar People sheet metal and enlisted in the army. If only Dash could have gone with them, though she knew that was impossible. Growing up, she had always preferred playing games with the boys over sitting politely with girls and discussing the weather. Her mother might cluck her tongue, but Fred and Gus never looked twice if Dash went outside on a bone-chilling day, hockey stick in her hand, skates tied over her shoulder. If she didn’t come out to play ball with them in the summer, they figured she was sick.
It ate her up that they were over there being useful, and she was doing nothing. Knitting socks didn’t count, in her opinion.
She paused, sucking in her cheeks as she regarded her image in the mirror. None of the other girls could throw a softball like she could, and they couldn’t tell a fan belt from a throttle, but Dash still knew the value of a good lipstick and a formfitting dress.
Gosh, she missed Gus. He’d been gone over a year, and even after all this time, she felt like there was an empty seat at the table when she sat down for supper. She knew Dot felt the same way, but they hadn’t spoken about him much. Dot preferred not to talk about anything to do with the war. Gus was the absolute worst at writing letters. Couldn’t he just send a little note saying he was out there somewhere, either miserable or happy? Honestly, she didn’t care which. She just wanted to know he was alive.
The door to the girls’ shared bedroom swung open, and Dot walked in. Without a word, she dropped onto her bed and pulled out a crossword book and a pencil. As she always had, Dash felt a weight lift fromher shoulders with Dot around. Her sister had a gift for turning the volume down on drama, so Dash automatically calmed a bit when she was near. When she was stuck inside on rainy days, Dash could sit quietly with Dot for hours. She could even manage to get through an entire book under her sister’s influence. But not often.
The tip of Dot’s tongue peeked out between her lips as she read. A sure indicator that she was deep in thought.
