Overcome: Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Two days later Mr. Smith announced the results of the auditions. Soon after, the children came bursting into the Baker’s kitchen where Mrs. Baker was fixing supper with Ted.
“Oh, Mrs. Baker, today after school we all went down to the church, and Mr. Smith announced the parts for the Christmas show!” Frances said, grabbing Mrs. Baker in an excited hug.
Annie flung her coat on a chair and began to bounce around the kitchen. “Claire and I are both to be in the choir — ”
“And John and I are to hand out programs and seat people,” Tyler interrupted.
Mrs. Baker emerged from Frances’s hug, laughing. “Mia, what about you?”
Mia smiled. “I’m in the choir, too.”
“Frances?” Mrs. Baker turned to her.
“Oh, Mrs. Baker, I got a part in the skit!” Frances said, bouncing around like Annie. “You see, first the choir comes on and sings, and then there are recitations, and then the skit, and more singing, and then the bows. We’re doing The Gift of the Magi — it’s an American short story — ”
“ — Written by a man named ‘Oh,’ ” Annie interrupted.
“It’s O. Henry,” Frances corrected. “His name isn’t really ‘O.’ Anyway, I got the female lead!”
“Congratulations!” Mrs. Baker smiled.
“Her name is Della,” Frances continued, “and it’s a lovely story — Mr. Smith read aloud the script for us.”
Tyler finished investigating the dinner preparations and turned to join the group. “Yes, and she plays married.”
“To whom?” Mrs. Baker asked, lifting Ted off the table.
“Um — well, Elias,” Frances said, suddenly looking awkward.
John abruptly left the room and slammed his way upstairs.
“I see.” Mrs. Baker paused, looking after John. Then she smiled at the others. “Well, congratulations to all of you. Where is Elias?”
“He stopped by the grocer’s,” Mia said. “He said to tell you he’d be home soon.”
Mrs. Baker nodded. “That’s fine. The rest of you can help me out. Frances, take Ted outside, will you? Annie, you can go, too. Tyler, find John and run down the lane to Mrs. Forrester’s house. She has a recipe I want to borrow. One the way back you can bring in some more wood. Mia, there’s laundry hanging out, would you please fold it? Claire, you can help me in the kitchen.”
The children scattered and Claire came to the table to help Mrs. Baker. After a moment of peeling apples, Mrs. Baker turned to her. “What’s wrong, Claire?”
“What do you mean?” Claire asked evasively.
“You didn’t say a word about the show, and you were so excited about it.”
Claire slammed down her knife. “It’s not fair.”
“What isn’t fair?” Mrs. Baker asked patiently, picking up Claire’s knife and handing it back to her.
“I wanted a part in the skit, and Frances got to be the lead,” Claire began. “And Mia — well, her voice is better than mine, so no one will pay any attention to me in the choir. I know they won’t.”
“I see.” Mrs. Baker finished her apple and reached for another. The kitchen was warm from the stove, and the smell of bread drifted around the room.
Finally, Claire spoke again. “Everyone else gets things better than I do. It isn’t fair.”
“Hold hard.” Mrs. Baker set her knife down. “Aren’t you forgetting a few things?”
“Like what?”
Mrs. Baker began peeling an apple again. “When you left London to come here, did anyone come with you to see you off, and say goodbye?”
“Yes.” Claire played with the apple peelings on the table.
“Who?” Mrs. Baker prompted.
“My mum and dad.”
“And where did you live before you came here?”
Claire pushed the peelings into one pile. “In a house in Kensington.”
“ What kind of house?” Mrs. Baker asked.
“A big one,” Claire said quietly.
Mrs. Baker set down her last apple and began to chop some carrots. “And how many governesses have you had?”
“Four.” Claire gathered the peelings off the table and deposited them in the scraps bin.
Mrs. Baker bent to look into Claire’s face as she returned to the table. “Claire, love, look at me. I know that things don’t always happen the way you want. That’s part of life. But I can’t have you standing there saying that everyone else gets things better than you do.”
Claire looked at her feet. “I don’t mean about money and things. I mean getting to do things. I’m tired of having to go to dinner parties and wear bows in my hair. I wanted to come here to get away from all that, to live differently. But I’m always in someone else’s shadow — my parents, Frances, Mia.” She said Mia’s name with bitterness.
Mrs. Baker sighed. “I hope someday you’ll learn to value your parents more, love. From all the letters they send, they seem to care for you a great deal.”
“They’re always there,” Claire said, frustrated. “I want them to leave me alone.”
“Claire — ” Mrs. Baker began.
Just then the other children, minus Tyler, came running into the room, all talking noisily at the same time. Frances was chasing after Ted, trying to wipe off his face with her handkerchief. “Ted, come here and let me wash your face — ”
“He can’t wash his face, and neither can I,” Annie interrupted, dodging with Ted out of Frances’s reach. “It’s our war paint.”
John marched forward and saluted Mrs. Baker. “Private John Coning reporting with one borrowed recipe and two armloads of firewood, ma’am!”
Elias was rifling through his school bag. “Mia, where did I put the script for the play?”
“You left it in your jacket, I think,” Mia replied, setting the load of laundry on the counter.
Just then Tyler came running through the door. “OY! I SAY!”
Everyone stopped stalking abruptly and stared at him.
“Yes?” Mrs. Baker asked.
“Mrs. Forrester asked me to chop up some firewood for her, and she paid me this!” Tyler waved a coin in the air excitedly.
“Half a crown!” John exclaimed.
“ Let me see!” Annie dashed over to Tyler and peered at the money in his hand.
“Riches!” Frances laughed.
Tyler approached Mrs. Baker. “Say, Mrs. Baker, do you think I could earn more money?”
“It’s possible,” Mrs. Baker replied. “You could ask around.”
Frances succeeded in catching Ted and began to wipe his face. “If I had money, I’d spend it on new notebooks for writing.”
“I’d buy a one-way train ticket to Scotland.” Claire sounded half-serious.
“I’d buy candy,” Annie said, submitting herself to France’s handkerchief.
“I’d use it to buy a watch like my dad’s,” John said.
“I’d buy a book,” Mia smiled, picking up her laundry basket again.
“What about you, Elias?” Tyler asked, turning to the older boy.
Elias shoved his script under his arm. “Passage back to Germany.” He said it quietly, but everyone heard him and there was a sudden hush in the room.
Tyler stared at him. “Why? Don’t you like it here?”
Elias glanced at him. “I — ”
“Why would you go back there?” John asked scornfully. “To join Hitler?”
“John…” Mr. Baker entered the room, frowning at John.
John ducked his head. “Sorry, sir.”
Mrs. Baker smiled at the quiet children, as if to smooth over the sudden discomfort. “Well, until the rest of you come into your imagined fortunes, I suggest that Tyler puts his money upstairs for safekeeping. Elias, run and put your coat away before supper.”
Tyler and Elias left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the boys’ room. As they entered, Tyler turned to Elias. “You know what I want to use my money for?”
“What?”
“I’ll send it to mum. Maybe if she sees that I can be dependable, she’ll want me to come back.” Tyler was looking straight at Elias, searching for affirmation.
Elias hesitated. “Fine plan.”
Tyler bit his lip. “You don’t really want to leave, do you?”
“Why, you care?” Elias asked roughly, turning away.
Tyler was hurt. “Of course!”
“Sorry.” Elias sighed and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Ty. I’m not going anywhere right now.”
“And…” Tyler faltered.
Elias looked back at him. “And what?”
“You would never join Hitler. Right?”
“You have to ask?” Glaring at him, Elias turned sharpy and stormed out of the room.
“Elias…” Tyler looked after him. When Elias didn’t come back, he sighed, then shoved his money under the pitcher sitting on the windowsill. After making sure it was secure, he left the room and hurried downstairs again.
After he had gone, Elias reentered the room. For a long moment he stood looking at the pitcher on the windowsill.
“Elias, are you coming?” Mia called from downstairs. “Supper’s ready.”
Elias looked up. “Coming!” he called. Turning, he left the room to go downstairs.
To be continued