Her Mother's Hope (37 page)

38

1942

Hildie left her trunk and suitcase at the train station and walked home. Thinking to surprise Mama, she knocked at the front door. She didn’t know the woman who opened it.

She stood gaping. “Who are you?”

“I’d be asking you the same question.”

“I’m Hildemara Arundel.”

“I don’t know no Arundels.”

“Waltert. My mother is Marta Waltert.”

“Oh.” Her face cleared and she pushed the screen door open. “Come in, please. Your mama don’t live here no more. She lives out back in the cottage.” She put her hand under Hildie’s arm. “Here. You set yourself down. You look a little peaked.”

“Who are you?”

“Donna Martin.” She patted Hildie’s shoulder, poured her a glass of lemonade, and said she’d go get her mother.

A moment later, Mama raced in the back door. “What are you doing here, Hildemara?”

“Trip’s gone to OCS. He said I couldn’t go with him. I wanted to come home!” She burst into tears.

“Come on.” Mama hauled her up, apologized to Donna Martin for the intrusion, and pushed Hildie out the back door, down the steps, and along the path to the cottage. She opened the side door into the kitchen. “It’s too bad you didn’t think to write first, instead of just showing up on the front doorstep.”

“I thought I’d be welcome.” Hildemara wiped her face. “I should’ve known better.” She looked around. “You’re living here? Where are Bernie and Elizabeth?”

Mama poured another glass of lemonade and plunked it in front of Hildie on the small kitchen table. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“Mama!”

Mama sat and folded her hands on the table. “Hitch and Donna Martin are sharecropping the place. They’ve got four children. I don’t need much room, so I gave them the big house. They’ll be more comfortable there, room to spread instead of living in a tent-house like we did.”

“And Bernie and Elizabeth?”

“The government came and took the Musashis away. Bernie and Elizabeth moved over to their place.”

“Took them away? Where?”

“To an assembly center in Pomona. We’ve heard rumors they’re going to be sent to some internment camp in Wyoming, of all places. We sent blankets and coats a week back. Hope they get them. The government seems to think every Jap is a spy these days. I’m surprised a bus hasn’t come after me and the rest of the Jerries and Wops around here, sending us all to some godforsaken camp in Death Valley.” She raised her hands and shook her head. “People go crazy when a war starts. They let fear run wild. Anyway, Hitch and Donna are good, hardworking people. Papa spoke highly of Hitch. They came out when Oklahoma turned to dust, and they’ve had a hard time ever since they arrived in California. I know how that feels. Hitch knows farming and ranching, so I hired him to run the place. That’s how Papa and I started when we came to California. Sharecroppers. Do you remember those days living by the irrigation ditch and in that tent-house Papa built? I’ll treat the Martins better than we were treated, I can promise you that.”

“So you’re living here.”

“Yes. It suits me. The Martins will have the place looking as neat and tended as Papa did when he was well.”

Hildie bristled. “Bernie did a good job.”

“Yes. Bernie did a good job; I’m not saying he didn’t. He’ll do a good job across the street, too.”

“I could help.”

“Not here, you can’t. What, now that you’ve come home you think I’ll put the Martins out so you can move in and play farmer? No. The cottage has only one bedroom, Hildemara, and I’m not sharing it. I don’t need you down here on the farm.”

Hildemara’s mouth trembled. “Did you ever think I might need you?”

Mama put her hands over Hildie’s and held them tightly. “No, you don’t. You’ve been standing on your own two feet for a while now.” She took her hands away. “Go on back to Merritt, back to work, back to your friends! Time will pass faster that way.”

So much for being welcomed home. “I can’t go back to work.”

“Why not?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Mama sat back in her chair. “Oh. Well, that changes things.” She smiled, her eyes glowing softly. “You and Elizabeth will have a lot to talk about. Go on over. They’ll be glad to see you. And there’s plenty of room at the Musashis’. He built a dormitory for the girls, remember?”

Mama went with her. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

How like Mama to say it that way.

Bernie strode across the yard, grabbed Hildie, and flung her around, her feet swinging. She laughed for the first time in weeks. “Put me down, Bernie!”

“Careful, Bernhard. Your sister’s expecting a baby.”

Bernie set Hildie down. “Holy cow! How far along?”

“Three months.” She watched Mama head back across the street. Hildie could almost imagine her brushing off her hands, having settled things so quickly.

“Elizabeth’s six months along. She’s still sick as a dog every morning. I thought she wrote to you. Letter probably got lost with all your moving hither and yon, following that man of yours.” He put his arm around her and steered her toward the Musashis’ house. “She’s going to be over the moon when she sees you. She’s been lonely.”

Bernie stopped, looking grim. “I’d better warn you now, in case you might want to change your mind about staying here. We’ve had rocks thrown through the windows. Old Man Hutchinson called me a Jap lover yesterday. I can understand, I guess. His son was killed at Pearl Harbor, but try telling him the Musashis had nothing to do with it. People see Jap spies behind every bush, and a few Germans ones, too. Do you understand what I’m saying, Hildie?”

“Yes.” Fear made fools of some people.

Elizabeth turned from the kitchen sink as Bernie and Hildie came in the door. Hildemara gave her a long, considering look.
Miracles do happen,
she told herself. Hildie hoped this pregnancy was one of them.

“Hildie.” Elizabeth spoke softly. “I’m so glad you’re home.” They embraced.

When Hildie searched Elizabeth’s eyes, her friend blushed and looked away. Hildie wanted to weep.

Bernie took Hildie back to the train station in Mama’s Model T to collect her luggage. He had to muscle the trunk into the backseat. “You have more stuff than the last time you came home!”

“Mrs. Henderson, my landlady, had a sale before I left Tacoma. She’s putting the house up for sale and moving in with her daughter. I helped her bring boxes down from her attic and price everything. You wouldn’t believe how much stuff she’d accumulated over the years. She had things left behind by boarders, and her husband had a store. He sold all kinds of things, including china. Her attic was packed! She gave me twelve different place settings from his store displays: Royal Doulton, Wedgwood, Spode, and Villeroy and Boch. She gave me some linen tablecloths, too. We can use everything if you and Elizabeth would like.”

“We’ll store your trunk in the barn. Keep all those nice things for when you and Trip set up housekeeping. Elizabeth packed all of the Musashis’ dishes and kitchenwares. We’re using our own.”

Bernie seemed to have less security than she did. “What are you going to do when the Musashis come back?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

With the Martins living in the big house and sharecropping the farm, it seemed Bernie had been done out of a home and a job. “Whose idea was it to move over to the Musashis’?”

“Mama and I both had a brainstorm at the same time. It hit me the day I saw the Musashis walking to town with one suitcase apiece. Didn’t seem right.”

“Thanks for taking me in, Bernie.”

Bernie gave her a droll look. “You think I’d leave my pregnant sister without a roof over her head?”

“Mama would.”

He gave her an irritated glance. “What a thing to say.”

She felt ashamed and defensive. “I didn’t know anything about the Martins. Last I heard, you were running the place.”

“Things change.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “I cried when I saw the Musashis leave. Mama got mad as all get-out. She said it wasn’t right. She wrote letters and called anyone who’d listen. She drove all the way to Sacramento to talk to someone in government. They wanted to know where
she
came from. We decided to keep the Musashi farm running. If the taxes don’t get paid, they’ll lose the place. Me and Mama and Elizabeth decided this was the best way to handle things right now. The Martins are good people, Hildie. They’ll take care of the place like it’s their own, and Mama’s comfortable in the cottage.”

While Bernie carried her trunk into the barn, Hildemara took her suitcase inside the house. Elizabeth had set the table. She glanced over her shoulder at Hildie and turned back to the stove.

“Something smells wonderful.”

“Stew.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded choked.

Elizabeth hardly said anything through dinner. Bernie talked about the work that needed doing. Hildie talked about moving from place to place, following Trip. “No place at the inn for OCS.” She shrugged, trying not to think about how many months it might be before she saw Trip again.

“I tried to enlist.” Bernie tossed his napkin on the table. “I’m strong as a horse, but they wouldn’t take me. I had two strikes against me before I walked in the door. I’m an only son and a farmer. Then again, maybe there’s another reason they don’t want me. Bernhard Waltert isn’t exactly an American name, is it?” He got up. “I’ve got work to do.”

Hildie looked from the closing door to Elizabeth with her hangdog expression. “Are things really that bad?”

“Someone called him a coward the last time he went to town.”

Hildie stacked Bernie’s dish on top of hers and began to clear the table. “Idiots!”

“I can do the dishes, Hildie.”

“I want to do my part while I’m living here. You cooked. I’ll do the dishes.”

Elizabeth sat with her head down. “You know, don’t you?”

Hildie stood at the sink and closed her eyes. She wanted to pretend she didn’t understand. Drying her hands, she came back and sat at the table. Elizabeth couldn’t look her in the face. “Who’s the father?”

Elizabeth’s shoulders jerked as though she’d been struck. “I love him, you know.”

Hildie’s heart sank. She wanted to grab Elizabeth and shake her. “Who?”

Elizabeth looked up, eyes wide, mouth trembling. “Bernie. I love Bernie!” Her voice broke. She covered her face.

“Does he know?”

“How did you?”

Hildie lied. “The look on your face when I came in the door, the way you couldn’t look me in the eyes. Does Bernie know?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “He knows something’s wrong.” She wiped tears away. “He doesn’t understand why I cry all the time. The doctor told him it had to do with hormones.” She looked up, afraid. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I’m not going to be the one to tell my brother something that will rip the heart right out of him. It’s your secret, Elizabeth, not mine.” Still, she had to know. “You didn’t say who the father is.”

“Eddie Rinckel.”

Bernie’s best friend? “Oh, Elizabeth.” Hildie stood up and moved away from her. “How could you?” She felt sick. She wanted to slap Elizabeth, scream at her.

“Do you hate me?”

Hildie closed her eyes. “Yes. I think I do.” Trembling, she went back to the sink to do the dishes. Elizabeth got up quietly and went into the bedroom she shared with Bernie.

Later, lying in bed, listening to the night sounds, Hildemara cried.

Suddenly Bernie threw open her door. “Fire! Come on. I need help!”

Hildie grabbed her robe and ran. Elizabeth worked beside Bernie. The Martins, all six of them, and Mama in her nightgown, came with shovels. It took an hour, but they managed to beat out and smother the blaze that had started in the alfalfa field.

Mama tossed her long braid back over her shoulder and wiped soot on the front of her nightgown. “We need another dog.” Dash had died while Hildemara was in nursing school.

Bernie gave a cynical laugh. “Make that two, Mama.”

39

Trip called late one evening. Hildemara rejoiced at the sound of his voice. “I got your letter. I’ve only got a few minutes to talk. So listen. I want you safe. Go back to Colorado and live with my parents. They’d love to have you.”

She shouldn’t have told him about the fire or
Jap lover
painted in red on the barn wall. “I’m not turning my back on my friends. The Musashis are as American as you and I. They’ve been our neighbors for years. Mr. Musashi taught Papa how to prune the almond trees and vines. Papa fixed his well and his truck. I went to school with the Musashi girls. Bernie played football and basketball and—”

“Hildie . . .”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Bernie laughed while sitting at the kitchen table with Elizabeth. “She’s beginning to sound like Mama.”

“Rocks through windows? A field on fire?” Trip sounded angry. “Sounds like you’re in a war zone.”

“Maybe we are, but it’s a different war than you’ll be fighting.” Tears sprang to her eyes. She tried to calm down. “Things will settle down. People have known us around here for years, Trip. Papa was well loved, even if he was German.” She couldn’t help the edge in her tone. “We’re sitting tight and keeping this place going. You take care of yourself.” She wiped tears away at the thought of what Trip would soon face. Fear had become a constant companion, robbing her of sleep, stealing her appetite. Other sorrows came to bear, as well. Elizabeth, for one. Hildemara struggled with disappointment and the sense of betrayal, for Bernie’s sake.

“I’ve got to go.”

Hildie heard voices in the background and knew a line had probably formed at the base telephone. “Trip!” Her voice broke. She didn’t want their last conversation to be an argument. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Take care of our baby.”

She heard something in his voice. “You received orders, didn’t you?”

“We’re shipping out.”

“When?”

“Soon. If anything happens to me—”

“Don’t say it! Don’t you dare!”

“I love you, Hildie. Stay safe.” He hung up.

Hildie’s hand shook as she put the receiver back on its cradle. It struck like a blow to the heart that she might never hear Trip’s voice again.

* * *

Bernie looked at Hildemara over his cup of coffee before dawn the next morning. “You look awful. Do you have morning sickness, too?”

“I just can’t sleep for worrying.”

“Elizabeth doesn’t feel well enough to get up.” He stole a brief glance toward the bedroom door and looked straight at Hildie. “You two have words or something?”

“No. Why would we?”

He put his cup down carefully. “I know about the baby.”

“Oh, Bernie.” She put her hand over her mouth, wanting to sob at the look on his face.

“It’s my fault, you know.” He grimaced. “I found out after I married her I couldn’t give her children.” He looked at her again. “We’d been trying. Doc told me mumps can make a man . . . well, you know, not worth anything.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m a coward, Hildie. I didn’t have guts enough to tell Elizabeth the truth. I was afraid I’d lose her. I probably will anyway.”

She’d never seen her brother so despondent. “She says she loves you.” She put her hand over his. “I believe her.”

“It was Eddie.” His eyes filled. “He told me himself.”

Hildemara went hot. “Bragging?”

“No. Far from it. I knew something had been tearing him up inside. We went out for a couple of drinks before he left for basic training. He signed into the Marines. He had last-minute jitters. Wondered if he was brave enough. He got so drunk, he could hardly walk. When I dropped him off, he kept saying how sorry he was, how he wished I’d kill him, and then the Japs wouldn’t have to bother. When I asked him what in the blazes he was talking about, he told me.”

“He should’ve kept his big mouth shut!”

Bernie gave her a sad smile. “He’s been in love with Elizabeth since before we came to town. I’m the one who stole her from him, not the other way around.”

“That’s no excuse. Not for either one of them.”

Glaring at her, he rubbed his head, agitated. “Don’t judge her. Some people were giving her a hard time in town, saying I was a coward for not joining up, calling us Jap lovers and Mama a dirty Nazi. Eddie stepped in and told them to shut up and back off. He gave her a ride home. Only they didn’t come back right away. She was scared to death of what I might do when I found out. And he knew I’d head into town and have more than words with a few of those . . .” Bernie rubbed his face. “Anyway, they stopped at Grand Junction. He just wanted to calm her down before bringing her home. They started talking about old times, good times. She was still crying, shaken up. He held her, comforted her. That’s how it started, I guess. It just didn’t end there.”

Bernie’s face twisted, anguished. “I couldn’t hate him. Not even when he told me. What right have I got to throw stones at anyone?” His eyes filled. “He’s dead, you know. Got blown to bits on some piece of crap island in the South Pacific. He used to tell me he wanted to go to the beach. ‘Let’s go over to Santa Cruz,’ he’d say. Well, he died on a beach.”

Hildie put her face in her hands and sobbed. All she could think about was Trip on his way to Europe. She’d told herself over and over he was a medic. Thank God, he wasn’t a Marine. They wouldn’t put him in the front lines. He would follow, picking up the pieces.

Bernie gripped her shoulder. “Go gentle on my wife. She’s eating herself up with guilt. And I love her; I love her so much. As far as I’m concerned, that baby she’s carrying is mine.”

Hildie raised her head. “Maybe you should tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“Everything.”

He shook his head. “She might leave me.”

She leaned over and cupped his face. “You haven’t left her.”

He pulled away and stood. “Two wrongs don’t make things right, Sis.”

“What good is love without trust?”

“What are you two talking about?” Elizabeth stood in the bedroom doorway, still in her nightgown, arms hugged around herself. She looked sick and frightened, pale and strained. She looked at Hildie and then Bernie, bereft. “Did you . . . ?”

“Did she tell me the baby isn’t mine? No, sugar. She didn’t. I already knew.”

Elizabeth made a choking sound and stepped back, hands covering her face.

Bernie pulled a chair back. “Come and sit down with me. We need to talk.”

Hildie couldn’t bear the pain she saw in both their faces, the guilt and shame, the heartbreak. She got up. “I love you both.” She went outside.

Sitting in Mrs. Musashi’s chair out front, she watched the sunrise while Bernie and Elizabeth talked inside the house. No screaming, no shouting like Mama and Papa. The silence worried her and she stood, looking through the window. Elizabeth sat on Bernie’s lap, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He held her firmly, stroking her back as both wept.

Relief filled Hildie. She envied the fact that they could be together through this war and not have to be separated. She didn’t like feeling that way. She went out for a long walk through the Musashis’ English walnut orchard, thanking God Bernie and Elizabeth would be all right. She prayed for Trip’s safety. She ran her hands over her abdomen, praying their baby would be born healthy and strong. She prayed the next battle would turn the tide of the war and it would end soon.

Thinking of Trip filled her with so many emotions: worry, fear, hope, hunger, an aching loneliness to have him back beside her.
God, please bring him home to me. Bring him home in one piece.

* * *

As summer moved toward fall, townsfolk had another reason to resent Bernie and Mama and anyone else in their situation. Rationing kept people in want, but farmers had plenty. Mama’s forty acres of almonds and raisins and her half-acre vegetable garden, along with chickens and rabbits, produced enough to feed both families and have plenty to sell. Bernie kept up the walnut orchard, vineyard, and two acres of produce, making runs to Merced to sell tomatoes, squash, onions, and carrots. The Musashis had two cows, both healthy; a hundred chickens; a dozen rabbits; and four goats. Bernie added a dog. He called him Killer as a joke, though passersby believed it and kept their distance. Never lacking in food, Mama said they should give away whatever they could spare to neighbors and friends in town, keeping only enough for mortgage payments and taxes on the two places.

Hildemara blossomed with her pregnancy. So did Elizabeth. They laughed as they waddled around the place. Weeding became more difficult as the months passed. Bernie and Elizabeth’s son came in September. They named him Edward Niclas Waltert.

Mama checked the mailbox every day. Hildemara went across to get their mail. Mama would sift through the envelopes and sigh heavily.

When Hildemara’s labor started, Bernie went for Mama. Rather than drive to town for Dr. Whiting, Mama came across the street to help deliver the baby. Hildemara was too far along to argue. She had already told Elizabeth what to do to get ready.

Mama leaned over Hildie, wiping sweat from her forehead. “You scream if you want to.”

Hildie knew Mama expected her to be worse than Elizabeth, who had screamed and sobbed and begged for the pain to stop. Hildie had been in hospital delivery rooms. She knew what to expect. She had no intention of making it worse for all those around her. She didn’t look at Mama or listen to anything she said. She concentrated on the course of her labor, enduring the pain in silence and bearing down when her body told her it was time.

“You have a son, Hildemara Rose.” Mama washed and swaddled him and placed him in her arms. “What are you going to call him?”

Exhausted, Hildie smiled into his perfect face. “Trip likes the name Charles.”

She wrote to Trip the next day.

Our son arrived on December 15. Charles Cale Arundel has very healthy lungs! Mama says she can hear him across the street. He and Eddie are going to make quite a pair. . . .

She wrote every day, sometimes in a way to sound like Charles was writing the letter.

Daddy, come home soon. I can’t wait to meet you. You have to teach me how to play basketball and baseball. . . .

Giving birth took more of her strength than she expected. Or maybe it was the night feedings that seemed to sap her of strength. Elizabeth had been up and around a few days after giving birth, but Hildemara felt so tired all the time. She feared relapsing with tuberculosis.

Mama came over every day. “Get some sleep. Let me hold my grandson.”

* * *

Dear Rosie,

Hildemara Rose has given me a second grandson. She has named him Charles Cale Arundel. She did well. No screaming or carrying on. The only time she shed a tear was when she held her newborn son in her arms. Then she cried a river of joyful tears.

I remember giving birth to Hildemara on the floor of the cabin in that frozen Manitoba wheatland. I cried! I think I cursed Niclas when he came home and found me. Poor man. I have never been easy on anyone, especially those I love most.

My girl did better than I, but I’m worried. Hildemara has not bounced back to good health the way Elizabeth did. She looks so pale and worn down. Nursing every two hours is exhausting, and I fear my girl may get sick again. I offer to help, but she gives me a look that sends me home. So I bring dinner sometimes, just to give these two girls rest.

Hildemara Rose and I get along, but there is a wall between us. I know I built it. I doubt she’s forgiven me for my harsh words at the sanatorium, and I will not apologize for them. I may have to prod her again. I’ll do whatever I must to keep her spirits up. Oh, but it hurts me so to do it. I wonder if she will ever understand me.

* * *

After spending almost a month in bed, Hildie began to regain her strength. Mama made a sling for her so she could carry Charlie around while doing chores. He rode happily, cradled safely against Hildie’s chest. When he grew too big to ride in the sling, Mama designed a backpack. When he began to crawl, Hildie and Elizabeth took turns watching their “little explorers.”

Bernie laughed as the two boys crawled around the house. “They need sunshine, but I think we’re going to have to cage them.”

The Allies pressed on. Battles raged in Germany and in the South Pacific. Hildie wondered if the war would ever end and Trip come home.