Rumors of Peace Read Free Page A

prepared.”
    I nodded.
    â€œA country has to take precautions, just in case.”
    I nodded.
    â€œIt’s possible that we’ll have air raid warnings, because that’s part of being prepared. But it doesn’t mean that anything will happen. I’m sure it will never come to that.”
    I nodded.
    â€œSo you’re not to go around worrying.”
    â€œI’m not worrying.”
    â€œI hope not,” she said.
    My mother’s face was smooth, with pink cheeks. She had warm gray eyes, and unlike the rest of the family’s, her hair was dark, and was secured with large hairpins in a bun at the back. She always wore a hat when she shopped on Main Street. She always wore her best dress on Sundays, whether we went somewhere or not. It was a dark blue dress with a square-cut neck. As she went out of the room, I felt I was looking at that dress for the last time. We would never see next Sunday.
    It was late when Karla came to bed, turning on the little lamp that stood on her dressing table. In the dim light, on my side of the room, my bureau top was crowded with worn-out rabbits’ feet, acorns, marbles, and the skulls of small rodents. Karla’s side was neat and cozy. She was always after me to put my relics away where she wouldn’t have to look at them. “You want to be a trapeze artist?” she would say. “Trapeze artists are very neat. They’d be shocked by this mess, Suse; they wouldn’t let you into their union.”
    Now, suddenly, I felt I would do anything for Karla. I would sweep my possessions into the back of the closet, no, I’d throw them in the garbage can. I wanted to make her happy, because she was going to die. All of us were going to die.
    She rolled her hair up in her metal curlers, got into her pajamas, and turned the lamp out. “I guess you’ll have a million questions tonight,” she said, climbing into bed.
    I rolled over to her. “I’m going to clean my side of the room.”
    â€œI don’t believe it.”
    â€œI will!”
    After a long while, when I had not asked anything, she broke the silence. “Well, fire away.”
    â€œI don’t have any questions.”

    The living-room clock chimed twice. I jerked awake. I had lain heavy-eyed, waiting for the sound of planes, until I could stay awake no longer. Now I woke to an ominous drone. After getting up, I went frozen-faced to the window and pulled the shade aside. It was a drone not of planes but of trucks, hundreds of trucks rumbling swiftly by, one after another, a few streets away.
    â€œKarla!” I hissed, putting my ear to the pane. Army trucks, filled with defending troops. The invasion had begun.
    â€œKarla!”
    She sat up, rubbing her eyes.
    â€œListen!”
    â€œWhat? I don’t hear anything.”
    The sound was gone, as though it had never been. Shivering, I crossedthe room and got back into bed. The clock chimed three times before I finally drifted off.

    I woke to a gray, foggy morning. Karla was seated at her dressing table, putting on her lipstick before the mirror. She pressed her lips together, sucked them out of sight, nostrils enlarging. This usually interested me.
    â€œThere were army trucks last night.”
    â€œI didn’t hear anything,” she said, lips reappearing, and patted her golden pompadour. “You dreamed it, honey.” Going to the door, she leaned down. “Go back to sleep, no school today.”
    But I climbed from bed, sore with fatigue, and drew on my old pink chenille robe. Through the door came the sound of yet another radio broadcast.
    I went tiredly into the living room and sat down with the others.
    It was President Roosevelt speaking. His voice was slow, awesome.
    â€œ. . . We will . . . make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again. . . . Our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.”
    My breathing came shallow. I