Читать книгу Read All About It - Valerie Tripp - Страница 7

ounding the typewriter keys as hard as she could made Kit feel better. The good thing about writing was that she got to tell the whole story without anyone interrupting or contradicting her. Kit was pleased with her article when it was finished. It explained exactly what had happened and how the teacup was broken. Then at the end it said:

Kit pulled her article out of the typewriter and marched outside to sit on the steps and wait for Dad to come home. She brought her book about Robin Hood to read while she waited.

She had not been reading long before the screen door squeaked open and slammed shut behind her. Kit didn’t even lift her eyes off the page.

Charlie sat next to her. “Hi,” he said.

Kit didn’t answer. She was a little put out with Charlie for adding to the trouble in Stirling’s room.

“What’s eating you, Squirt?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing,” said Kit as huffily as she could.

Charlie looked at the piece of paper next to Kit. “Is that one of your newspapers for Dad?” he asked.

“Yup,” said Kit.

Charlie picked up Kit’s newspaper and looked at the headline. “‘It’s Not Fair,’” he read aloud. Then he asked, “What’s this all about?”

“It’s about how it’s wrong to blame people for things that are not their fault,” said Kit. “For example, me, for the mess this afternoon.”

“Aw, come on, Kit,” said Charlie. “That’s nothing. You shouldn’t make such a big deal of it.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” she said.

Charlie took a deep breath in and then let it out. “Listen, Kit,” he said, in a voice that was suddenly serious, “I wouldn’t bother Dad with this newspaper today if I were you.”

Kit slammed her book shut and looked sideways at Charlie. “And why not?” she asked.

Charlie glanced over his shoulder to be sure that no one except Kit would hear him. “You know how lots of people have lost their jobs because of the Depression, don’t you?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Kit. “Like Mr. Howard.”

“Well,” said Charlie, “yesterday Dad told Mother and me that he’s closing down his car dealership and going out of business.”

“What?” said Kit. She was horrified. “But…” she sputtered. “But why?”

“Why do you think?” said Charlie. “Because nobody has money to buy a car anymore. They haven’t for a long time now.”

“Well, how come Dad didn’t say anything before this?” Kit asked.

“He didn’t want us to worry,” said Charlie. “And he kept hoping things would get better if he just hung on. He didn’t even fire any of his salesmen. He used his own savings to keep paying their salaries.”

“What’s Dad going to do now?” asked Kit.

“I don’t know,” said Charlie. “He even has to give back his own car. He can’t afford it anymore. I guess he’ll look for another job, though that’s pretty hopeless these days.”

Kit was sure that Charlie was wrong. “Anyone can see that Dad’s smart and hardworking!” she said. “And he has so many friends! People still remember him from when he was a baseball star in college. Plenty of people will be glad to hire him!”

Charlie shrugged. “There just aren’t any jobs to be had. Why do you think people are going away?”

“Dad’s not going to leave like Mr. Howard did!” said Kit, struck by that terrible thought. Then she was struck by another terrible thought. “We’re not going to lose our house like the Howards, are we?”

“I don’t know,” said Charlie again.

Kit could hardly breathe.

“It’ll be a struggle to keep it,” said Charlie. “Dad told me that he and Mother don’t own the house completely. They borrowed money from the bank to buy it, and they have to pay the bank back a little every month. It’s called a mortgage. If they don’t have enough money to pay the mortgage, the bank can take the house back.”

“Well, the people at the bank won’t just kick us out onto the street, will they?” asked Kit.

“Yes,” said Charlie. “That’s exactly what they’ll do. You’ve seen those pictures in the newspapers of whole families and all their belongings out on the street with nowhere to go.”

“That is not going to happen to us,” said Kit fiercely. “It’s not.”

“I hope not,” said Charlie.

“Listen,” said Kit. “How come Dad told Mother and you about losing his job, but not me?”

Charlie sighed a huge, sad sigh. “Dad told me,” he said slowly, “because it means that I won’t be able to go to college.”

“Oh, Charlie!” wailed Kit, full of sympathy and misery. She knew that Charlie had been looking forward to college so much! And now he couldn’t go. “That’s terrible! That’s awful! It’s not fair.”

Charlie grinned a cheerless grin and tapped one finger on Kit’s newspaper. “That’s your headline, isn’t it?” he said. “These days a lot of things happen that aren’t fair. There’s no one to blame, and there’s nothing that can be done about it.” Charlie’s voice sounded tired, as if he’d grown old all of a sudden. “You better get used to it, Kit. Life’s not like books. There’s no bad guy, and sometimes there’s no happily ever after, either.”

At that moment, Kit felt an odd sensation. Things were happening so fast! It was as if a match had been struck inside her and a little flame was lit, burning like anger, flickering like fear. “Charlie,” she asked. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“I don’t know,” said Charlie. He stood up to go.

“Wait,” said Kit. “How come you told me about Dad? Was it just to stop me from bothering Dad with my newspaper?”

“No,” said Charlie. “No. I told you because…” He paused. “Because you’re part of this family, and I figured you deserve to know.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” said Kit. She was grateful to Charlie for treating her like a grownup. “I’m glad you told me,” she said, “even though I wish none of it were true.”

“Me, too,” said Charlie. “Me, too.”

After Charlie left, Kit sat on the step thinking. No wonder Dad had not been happy about the Howards coming to stay. He must have been worried about more mouths to feed. And no wonder Mother had been short-tempered today. When she said that even though it was nobody’s fault, they were still in a mess, she must have been thinking of Dad. It wasn’t his fault that they’d fallen into the terrible, slippery hole of the Depression, and yet, and yet…it surely seemed as though they had. Just like the Howards. Just like the kids at school. Just like the people she’d read about in the newspaper.

The sun was setting, but it was still very hot outside. The air was so humid, the whole world looked blurry. Then, all too clearly, Kit saw a terrible sight. It was Dad. He was walking home. He did not see Kit yet, but she could see that he looked hot and tired. There was a discouraged droop to his shoulders that Kit had never seen before. It made Kit’s heart twist with sorrow. For just the tiniest second, she did not want to face Dad. She knew that when she did, she’d have to face the truth of all that Charlie had told her. But then Kit stood up and straightened her shoulders. Everything else in the whole world might change for Dad, but she wouldn’t.

Kit ran to Dad the way she had done every other night of her life when he came home. Dad caught her up and swung her around.

When he put her down, Kit looked Dad straight in the eye. “Charlie told me,” she said. “Is it true?”

Dad knelt down so that his eyes were level with Kit’s. “Yes,” he said. “It is.”

“Are we going to be all right?” Kit asked.

“I don’t know,” said Dad. “I truly don’t know.”

Kit threw her arms around Dad and hugged him hard. She crumpled up her newspaper in her fist behind Dad’s back. Her complaints about Stirling and the teacup seemed silly and babyish now. Charlie was right. Dad didn’t need to read her newspaper. Dad knew all about trying to be nice to people and having it turn out badly. He knew all about having bad things happen that were nobody’s fault. He knew all about things that were not fair.

Kit was a practical girl. She thought it was a waste of time to worry about a problem when you could be doing something to solve it. But her family had never had a problem as serious as this one before. All night long Kit lay awake thinking, listening to Stirling cough—and worrying.

The night was very hot. Kit kicked her sheet off and turned her pillow over time and time again because it got sweaty so fast. Finally, Kit got up.

It always made her feel better to write. She took her notepad and a pencil out of her desk and sat at the window in the moonlight. She decided to make a list of all the ways she could save the family some money.

No dancing lessons

No fancy dresses for dancing lessons

Kit looked at her list and scolded herself. It was all very well to give up dancing lessons and fancy dresses. Those were things she didn’t want. But how about things she did want?

With a soft sigh, Kit looked out the window. Then, sadly, she added to her list.

No lumber for a tree house

No new books

No tickets to baseball games

No sweets

There! thought Kit. I’ll show Dad my list tomorrow.

But by the time Kit went downstairs to breakfast the next morning, Dad had already left.

“He’s gone to meet a business friend,” said Mother.

“It’d be great if his friend offered Dad a job, wouldn’t it?” said Kit.

“Yes,” said Mother. “It would.” She smiled, but it wasn’t one of her real smiles.

Kit felt all restless and jumpy. She wanted to be alone so that she could think and work on her list some more. She wandered around the yard for a while before she found a good hideaway under the back porch. No one will find me here, she thought.

But she had not been hidden long before Ruthie crawled in next to her.

“How do you always find me?” asked Kit.

Ruthie shrugged. “It’s easy,” she said. “I just think where I’d be if I were you, and that’s where you are. Why are you hiding, by the way?”

“My dad lost his job,” said Kit.

“Oh,” said Ruthie softly. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry.” The girls sat together in silence for a minute. That was a good thing about Ruthie. She’d sit and think with Kit. She didn’t need to talk all the time. “What are you going to do?” Ruthie asked at last.

Kit handed Ruthie her list. “These are ways I can help save money,” she said.

Ruthie read the list. “These are good,” she said. “These’ll help.” But her voice sounded doubtful.

Kit sighed. “The truth is, I’ve just never given money much thought before,” she said.

“I know,” said Ruthie. “Me neither.”

Kit understood that when Dad sold a car, people gave him money. Dad gave some of the money to Mother. She used it to buy food and clothes and to pay the electric bill and the iceman and to get things for the house. Once a month, Dad paid the bank twenty dollars, which, as Charlie had explained, was part of the money that Dad and Mother owed the bank because they’d borrowed it when they bought the house. If there was any money left over after everything was paid, Dad put it in his savings account at the bank.

“Without Dad’s job,” said Kit to Ruthie, “there won’t be any more money coming in. And Charlie said that Dad used up most of his savings to pay his salesmen as long as he could, so soon there won’t be any money left in his savings. What’ll we do then?”

“I’ve read lots of books about people who have no money,” said Ruthie.

“Me, too,” said Kit. “But most of them lived in the olden days on farms or in a forest where they could at least get nuts and berries. We live in modern times in Cincinnati. How will we get food when our money is gone? Will we move to a farm?”

“I don’t think your mother would like that,” said Ruthie.

“No,” sighed Kit. “Besides, none of us knows anything about farming.”

Ruthie scratched her knee. “I think,” she said slowly, “we’re going to have to hope that your dad gets another job.”

“Yup,” said Kit. “Maybe today.” She looked at Ruthie. “What a great headline that would be!”