cup of coffee for Uncle Hermie when Fanny showed Amazing Grace a ring he had given her.
"That's beautiful." Amazing Grace turned to her, and she looked mad. "But I have a husband," she said.
Fanny sure is glamorous. She really did look like Marlene Dietrich that day. But she didn't know what to say to the remarks by Amazing Grace. I saw her face fall. And I felt bad for her.
After dinner, Uncle Hermie asked us children and my father to come outside with him. Out of the trunk of his car he took a large box.
"Stamp books," he said.
Sure enough, they were. Ration stamps, like you need to get food and shoes. All the things we need and never have enough of. They have pictures on them of guns and tanks and ships.
We kids call them coupons.
To me, they mean sugar. My small supply was gone now. I'd taken to eating Wheaties, the Breakfast of Champions, because they were better without sugar than Wheatena.
Now here was Uncle Hermie with a whole box of coupons! Where did he get them?
Martin, Tom, and I looked at each other. "Maybe he got them as a reward from the government," I heard Tom whisper.
Martin shook his head no.
"Go ahead, John," Uncle Hermie said to my father. "Take them. There are plenty more where these came from. You need them to feed your family."
My father looked confused for a moment.
"John," Uncle Hermie said in that soothing voice of his, "go ahead, take them."
"Don't, Daddy." Mary had come out of the house and was standing there wiping her hands on her apron. "They're black market."
Black market?
It sounded like a new radio program, better than
Inner Sanctum.
I looked at Martin. He nodded at me. Martin knew. He'd tell me later.
"Mary," Uncle Hermie said, "you look like you need a new pair of shoes."
"I don't want shoes if it means not doing my best for the war effort," Mary said.
Yesterday she and Beverly had been to the theater in town to see
Mrs. Miniver.
It was all she talked about. Mrs. Miniver never cried, Mary told me this morning. She kept a stiff upper lip through the Nazi bombing of England.
Ever since she'd seen
Gone with the Wind,
Mary had wanted to be Scarlett O'Hara. Until yesterday. Now she wanted to be Greer Garson, who played Mrs. Miniver.
"War effort? A little kid like you?" Uncle Hermie laughed. "Aren't you doing enough? You're not seventeen yet and you're working in the arsenal. You never even finished high school."
"Neither did you," Mary snapped back.
He shrugged and smiled. "I left because I didn't want to stay. You left because your father made you."
"For the war effort," Mary said.
"For money," Uncle Hermie told her. "Because he wants the money you bring home. You lost the best part of your life, Mary. You don't need to give up any more."
"That's enough, Hermie," my father said angrily. "I'm doing my best to raise a family here. Do you know what that means?"
It was turning into a fight. This could easily happen when my father's family visited. Anything they said could trigger a fight. Because they remembered my mother. And they had loved her.
"Mary, take the coupons and buy yourself a pair of shoes," Uncle Hermie said again.
"We're fighting Hitler," Mary yelled at him. "We're fighting for freedom! Don't you know what that means?"
Uncle Hermie looked sad. "Mary," he said, "you've got no freedom in this house. I come here, and you kids are allowed to mention Hitler's name but not your dead mother's. Didn't you ever ask yourself why?"
Mary turned and ran into the house. "I don't ever want to see you again!" she yelled. She was crying. I knew she was Scarlett O'Hara then and not Mrs. Miniver. Because Mrs. Miniver never cried. And because Uncle Hermie laughed, just like Rhett Butler did when Scarlett threw the vase right after she declared her love for Ashley.
"Hermie, I think it's time for you to go," my father said.
"Ah, John."
"No, you'd better go now," my father said.
Uncle Hermie turned to us, me and Tom and Martin. "Want some coupons, kids? You look like you
"That's beautiful." Amazing Grace turned to her, and she looked mad. "But I have a husband," she said.
Fanny sure is glamorous. She really did look like Marlene Dietrich that day. But she didn't know what to say to the remarks by Amazing Grace. I saw her face fall. And I felt bad for her.
After dinner, Uncle Hermie asked us children and my father to come outside with him. Out of the trunk of his car he took a large box.
"Stamp books," he said.
Sure enough, they were. Ration stamps, like you need to get food and shoes. All the things we need and never have enough of. They have pictures on them of guns and tanks and ships.
We kids call them coupons.
To me, they mean sugar. My small supply was gone now. I'd taken to eating Wheaties, the Breakfast of Champions, because they were better without sugar than Wheatena.
Now here was Uncle Hermie with a whole box of coupons! Where did he get them?
Martin, Tom, and I looked at each other. "Maybe he got them as a reward from the government," I heard Tom whisper.
Martin shook his head no.
"Go ahead, John," Uncle Hermie said to my father. "Take them. There are plenty more where these came from. You need them to feed your family."
My father looked confused for a moment.
"John," Uncle Hermie said in that soothing voice of his, "go ahead, take them."
"Don't, Daddy." Mary had come out of the house and was standing there wiping her hands on her apron. "They're black market."
Black market?
It sounded like a new radio program, better than
Inner Sanctum.
I looked at Martin. He nodded at me. Martin knew. He'd tell me later.
"Mary," Uncle Hermie said, "you look like you need a new pair of shoes."
"I don't want shoes if it means not doing my best for the war effort," Mary said.
Yesterday she and Beverly had been to the theater in town to see
Mrs. Miniver.
It was all she talked about. Mrs. Miniver never cried, Mary told me this morning. She kept a stiff upper lip through the Nazi bombing of England.
Ever since she'd seen
Gone with the Wind,
Mary had wanted to be Scarlett O'Hara. Until yesterday. Now she wanted to be Greer Garson, who played Mrs. Miniver.
"War effort? A little kid like you?" Uncle Hermie laughed. "Aren't you doing enough? You're not seventeen yet and you're working in the arsenal. You never even finished high school."
"Neither did you," Mary snapped back.
He shrugged and smiled. "I left because I didn't want to stay. You left because your father made you."
"For the war effort," Mary said.
"For money," Uncle Hermie told her. "Because he wants the money you bring home. You lost the best part of your life, Mary. You don't need to give up any more."
"That's enough, Hermie," my father said angrily. "I'm doing my best to raise a family here. Do you know what that means?"
It was turning into a fight. This could easily happen when my father's family visited. Anything they said could trigger a fight. Because they remembered my mother. And they had loved her.
"Mary, take the coupons and buy yourself a pair of shoes," Uncle Hermie said again.
"We're fighting Hitler," Mary yelled at him. "We're fighting for freedom! Don't you know what that means?"
Uncle Hermie looked sad. "Mary," he said, "you've got no freedom in this house. I come here, and you kids are allowed to mention Hitler's name but not your dead mother's. Didn't you ever ask yourself why?"
Mary turned and ran into the house. "I don't ever want to see you again!" she yelled. She was crying. I knew she was Scarlett O'Hara then and not Mrs. Miniver. Because Mrs. Miniver never cried. And because Uncle Hermie laughed, just like Rhett Butler did when Scarlett threw the vase right after she declared her love for Ashley.
"Hermie, I think it's time for you to go," my father said.
"Ah, John."
"No, you'd better go now," my father said.
Uncle Hermie turned to us, me and Tom and Martin. "Want some coupons, kids? You look like you
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