Cold War on Maplewood Street Read Free Page B

consequences to the president’s speech. The word
war
was mentioned many times.
    Joanna sat on the scratchy rug so she could gather Dixie into her lap. “Don’t worry, Dix,” she whispered. “Sam’ll be all right. And so will we. I promise.” The warmth of Dixie’s body helped ease some of the icy shivers that rippled through Joanna whenever she heard the word
war.
    She knew Russia—technically the Soviet Union—hadbeen an enemy of the United States for a long time. People talked about the Cold War between them. That had confused Joanna. “What’s a cold war? Do they only fight in winter?” she’d asked Sam once.
    His chipped tooth had flashed in a grin. “No, it means they don’t fight at all—at least not directly. They know that if they fought one another, it might end in a nuclear war that would destroy both of them.”
    â€œBut if they’re not fighting, why do they call it a war?”
    Sam had frowned. “It’s kind of hard to explain. But they fight in other ways, usually by supporting opposite sides in wars in smaller countries.”
    â€œThat sounds awfully sneaky,” Joanna had said.
    â€œIt is. But it’s better than fighting each other outright.” Sam had said this with such certainty that Joanna didn’t doubt that he was right.
    Still, she had to say, “I don’t get it. Why can’t everybody just get along? Why do there have to be wars at all?”
    â€œI don’t know, Jo,” he’d said, shaking his head. “It seems stupid, doesn’t it? But I guess it just comes down to people wanting different things and trying to force what they want on everyone else.”
    Joanna remembered their conversation now with a shudder. Was Russia suddenly ready to end the Cold War and risk a nuclear one? She was still huddled on the floor with Dixie, trying to make sense out of what the newscasters on TV were saying, when a key turned inthe lock and Mom came through the door with a whoosh of cool air.
    Dixie ran to greet her and Joanna sprang up from the floor. “You’re home early! I’m so glad. Did you hear the president’s speech?”
    Mom dropped her books and purse on the couch and went straight to Joanna to wrap her in a hug. “Yes, Jo, I heard.”
    â€œDo you think there’s going to be a war?” It seemed impossible that Joanna was even asking such a question. War was something that happened in other countries, not here in the United States. Not in Chicago on Maplewood Street.
    â€œOf course not,” Mom said, stroking Joanna’s curls.
    â€œGram thinks there might be,” Joanna said, her cheek still pressed into Mom’s coat. “She said that Sam will be right in the middle of it.”
    Mom stepped back and looked Joanna in the eye. “There won’t be a war,” she said firmly. “And no matter what your grandmother said, Sam will be fine.”
    â€œHow do you
know
?” Joanna pressed.
    â€œI just do, that’s all,” Mom said briskly, turning off the television before hanging up her coat. Then, carrying an armful of books, she led the way to the kitchen. She glanced at the pot on the stove. “Leftovers?” she asked, setting her books on the table.
    â€œHuh? Oh. Yes. Cream of tomato soup.” Joanna frownedas her mother lit the burner and gave the pot a stir. In an instant, she seemed to have forgotten all about the president’s speech and Sam.
    Mom turned around and raised her eyebrows when she saw Joanna watching her. “Don’t you have homework to do? It’s getting late.”
    Joanna sat down and hunched over her books, but from behind her bangs she watched her mother step out of her high heels and wiggle her toes. She nibbled a cracker, then blew tiny crumbs off the front of her dress. She acted so normal, so everything-as-usual, that Joanna felt herself relax. Of
course
there