Monday morning, second week of
school. Wanda and I stepped out of our buildings at the same moment and began
the short walk to school. We’ve known each other for many years. Her parents are
very strict and make her spend so much time with her studies and practicing her
violin that she has little free time to spend with friends. That probably
explains why she’s so shy. Wanda is three inches shorter than me and a little
plump, taking after her mother. She wears her hair in a ponytail and her
parents never let her wear makeup.
“I won’t be able to walk home from
school with you this week,” I said. “My mother needs my help with a project and
she’ll be picking me up at school.”
“What kind of project?”
“She told me not to tell anyone
yet. I promise to tell you as soon as I’m able.”
“A top secret project? Sounds
exciting.”
It isn’t exciting. With Max joining
the army, everything I had overheard my parents discussing about the war seems
more real. I don’t know what to expect. My parents were young during the Great
War, but they remember it. I remember my grandparent’s stories from when I was
younger, but over the years they stopped telling them. I’m actually glad my
parents decided to begin preparing for the worst. This gives me something to
focus on instead of worrying about guns and bombs.
Mother met me after school and we
went to a market I had never been to before. She decided that it was best to
spread our purchases across several markets so we don’t draw any attention to
ourselves. The list included candles, matches, rice, flour, sugar, bacon,
canned goods, tea, coffee, salt and other seasonings, kerosene lamps and oil,
soap, shampoo, light bulbs, aspirin, first aid supplies, and empty bottles for
water storage. There's a note at the bottom of the list to keep an eye out for
other items that she hadn’t thought of. My mother brought a small shopping cart
with her, and when we arrived at the market we started filling the cart. The
clerk was watching us, wondering what we were up to, so we hurried to finish
our shopping.
The cart was heavy so we both
pulled it along the sidewalk. Several people looked at us but Mother just
smiled, nodded, said “good afternoon,” and kept on walking. We finally arrived
home and unloaded the cart. While I was at school my mother had cleared a lot
of space in the kitchen cabinets and pantry.
“Your father will be bringing home
some empty boxes he found at the office," she said. "He’ll also make
sure we have extra money and our valuables stowed away in a secure hiding
place.”
After we finished, she prepared the
ingredients for tonight’s soup dinner, set the pot on the stove to stew, and
sat at the kitchen table going over her lists, figuring out what we already had
and what we still need to purchase. “You should finish your homework before
dinner is ready,” she said.
Father arrived home with a couple
of empty boxes. He decided to just take one or two each day so no one would
notice. He had also stopped by the liquor store and purchased a case of wine.
My mother asked why he was wasting our money on wine and he said that she’ll be
glad later to have it. He put the case of wine on the floor in the back of
Max’s closet. Since Max wasn’t here, we ccould use his room for storage, putting
items mainly in the closet to keep them out of the sight of any visitors.
And that’s how the week
continued…school, shopping, unloading, homework. By Thursday we seemed to be
ready for just about anything. Mother was still going over her lists again and
again, worried that we missed something. Shortly after my parents went to bed,
I went to the kitchen for a drink of water. I passed their bedroom on the way
back to my room and I heard my mother crying.
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