Cold War on Maplewood Street Read Free

days—the darkness seemed to press against the windows like that darned cat. Knowing that anyone could just crouch down and peer in between a tiny gap in the curtains was scary. Faces and voices, even if they were on the TV, made Joanna feel less alone.
    Half an hour later, she finished her last decimal problem and slapped her book shut. She went to the kitchen and heated tomato soup in a pot on the stove. Thumps sounded overhead. One, two, three, four. Quiet. Then one, two, three, four again. Like a code! Was someone being held captive upstairs and signaling for help? The thumps ceased. Now there was a rattling noise like something made of metal was being dragged across the floor. Joanna gulped. Could it be—
chains
?
    The soup had begun to boil. She turned off the burner and gave it a quick stir. Then she poured some into a bowl and crumbled crackers on top. During all of this she listened carefully, but it was quiet upstairs. Whatever hadbeen happening had stopped, and before it could start again, Joanna carried her soup carefully to the living room. Another thing Mom wouldn’t have allowed if she’d been home.
    A rerun of
Broken Arrow
would be coming on in a minute. But first was a commercial with a toothbrush singing, “You’ll wonder where the yellow went, when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent.”
    The music for
Broken Arrow
should have come next. Instead, a voice announced an important message from the president of the United States and the presidential seal appeared. Joanna groaned. She hated speeches. And she especially wasn’t interested in anything President Kennedy had to say. If it weren’t for him, Sam would still be home.
    â€œAsk not what your country can do for you,” John F. Kennedy had said in his inauguration speech, which Sam had insisted Joanna listen to. “Ask what you can do for your country.” Right after that, Sam started talking about how great it would be to join the army or the navy and travel around the world. See new places. Learn new things. Maybe even go to college on the GI Bill when he came home again.
    â€œYou can’t leave,” Joanna had protested. “You promised.”
    He’d looked startled. He’d bitten his lip as if maybe, until she reminded him, he really had forgotten the promise he’d made her on the day their father had left.
    She’d only been four, but she remembered it clear as anything.
    She remembered how Mom kept clutching at Dad’s arm as he flung shirts and socks and pants into a big brown suitcase. And how he kept shrugging her off, pulling free to pack even faster. But she just clung tighter and cried. How he swore and told her she was upsetting Joanna and Sam, and how she’d laugh-shrieked, “Me?
I’m
not the one that’s leaving.” And how he’d sighed and snapped the suitcase shut and hefted it off the bed.
    Mom had grabbed him one last time, sobbing, “Don’t do this, Rick—”
    He’d jerked away so hard, she’d fallen onto the bed. She just lay there after that, crying and crying and crying. Joanna had never been so scared. She’d never seen her father so red-faced or looking so grim. She’d never seen him hurt her mother. She’d never seen her mother cry. Over and over again in her mind, she saw her father jerking away from Mom, and her falling onto the bed. She heard Mom crying and crying, even after Sam took her hand and led her to his room, closed the door, and turned on his record player really loud. She was frightened, so she cried and cried, too.
    Sam had put his arms around her. “Ssshhhh. It’s going to be okay, Jo. Don’t cry.”
    â€œBut Daddy said he’s not coming back,” Joanna had hiccupped between sobs.
    â€œHe’s hardly ever here anyway,” Sam had said, wiping her tears with the bottom of his shirt. “We’ll be just fine without him, you’ll see. And me and Mom will