A Matter Of Trust by Sherrilyn Polf
“Will there be room for us on the bus?” whispered Dena, glancing at the large group of people. Emily nodded, grinning. She grabbed Dena’s arm and guided her through the crowd. Mother, Susan, and Aunt Doreen followed closely. Two strange-looking men purposely bumped into Emily’s shoulder, shoving her into Dena.
“Sorry,” the taller one sneered. Emily ignored them.
“Emily?” Dena questioned. The icy look on Emily’s face stopped her from pursuing. Dena felt uneasy. She kept glancing at Emily. Emily shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes, dismissing the incident.
Dena gazed out the smudged window at the passing landscape. It’s hard to believe that I am in California, she beamed. Looking past Mother, she studied the other passengers. The bus had very few seats empty. Nevertheless, the bus ride was almost too short for Dena. Sighing, she just couldn’t see enough.
Chapter Five
Aunt Doreen stopped at the kitchen door and asked Polly to bring some mint tea to the garden before moving on to the garden. Aunt Doreen opened the freshman packet, which both Emily and Dena had received. Emily and Susan sat on a bench over by the large tree, quietly chatting.
“Now we will review the bus routes so you won’t get lost,” Aunt Doreen said, running her finger down the schedule. “On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, you will go in with me when I go in to work: bus ten. Your classes are from eight to noon, and then you will come into work in the afternoon.” Aunt Doreen paused, sipping her lemonade before she added, “I will work until five or five thirty most nights. Your two classes, Drafting I and Introduction to Drafting are two-hour long morning classes, three days a week. Tuesday and Thursday you have no classes so you will work from eight to noon with afternoons off, unless classes are otherwise scheduled, such as for tests, field trips, etc. If you go home early, you will ride bus four or sixteen.”
Dena nodded, her eyes enlarged. Wow! I have so much to remember. I’ll never be able to learn all that. Maybe I should go back to Colorado.
“We’ll practice.” Aunt Doreen smiled. She understood. “Tonight, perhaps you and your mother can go over your packet in more detail.”
“I would like that,” her mother said, solemnly nodding. Dena watched her mother. She clasped the large folder next to her chest, holding it tightly.
Dena asked, “Why are we riding the buses rather than driving?”
“The governor has asked for California to be frugal while the country recoups from the post-war recession as well as the threat of another war.” She paused for a moment. “It has something to do with rubber plantations being seized and tires wearing out. If we don’t heed frugalness, then vouchers will be issued and gas rationed. We have chosen to ride the bus.” Emily nodded.
“What do you mean another war?” Mother asked while Dena leaned forward listening closely. She wanted to know, even though, she didn’t like the idea of war. Everything she had ever heard or read about it was ugly. The telephone rang and Emily rushed into the house to answer.
“Aunt Judith, it’s for you. It’s Uncle Lawrence.” Mother hurried into the house. Dena looked at Susan questioningly. Why would Dad call in the middle of the day unless …her thoughts trailed off as her mother returned? Her mother looked worried.
“Mother?” Dena asked. Her forehead creased.
“Susan and I must leave for home as soon as possible.” She glanced at the girls before she looked directly at her sister-in-law. “Lawrence has a crisis; he needs me there.”
“My goodness; well, let’s see. We should call the railroad station and see how soon you can return.”
“I’ll get our return tickets Doreen,” her mother said.
“All ticket times are confirmed at the train depot in San Jose. I’ll call there.” Aunt Doreen said. She looked up the number, dialed, and waited for the ticket office to answer.
“You girls go on into the dining room. I’m sure Polly is almost ready with our evening meal. Tell her we’ll come in as soon as possible. This won’t take long. Yes. Yes. I …” Aunt Doreen had dismissed them. Dena and Susan linked arms and trailed after Emily. Sitting in silence, each looked at the other not wanting to speak their dreaded thoughts out loud.
“Ready, Miss Emily?”
“In a minute, Polly,” she answered softly, waving the food aside. “Let’s wait for Mother.” The cook nodded and left.
“It’s settled, Judith,” Aunt Doreen said, putting her arm around her sister-in-law and moving her toward the table. “You and Susan will leave on the fourteenth, day after tomorrow, at ten in the morning. We probably should finish shopping and sightseeing tomorrow. You could pack tomorrow night.”
Although Aunt Doreen spoke mainly to her mother and Susan, Dena was glad she didn’t omit her and Emily. Dena nodded, looking at her mother. Mother slowly thought about the information.
“Oh, Doreen”—Mother turned to her sister-in-law—”what about the appointment with the lawyer?”
“Don’t worry, Judith. I canceled it,” she replied quietly. “You gave me such good advice; I don’t think I will need to see a lawyer. I want to talk to Walter tonight.”
“Good, good,” Mother softly said.
What shall I do? I really want to stay here in California, yet if something has happened at home, maybe I should go home. Dena opened her mouth but then closed it.
“Mother, I don’t—” Dena started, but her mother raised her hand stopping her.
“Dear, I’m not sure either. Your dad said there was a crisis that he really needed me to help him straighten out. It’s not like him to talk. We just need to pray.” She took a drink of water closing the subject.
“I’m so proud of what you accomplished today,” Mother said, looking affectionately at her eldest daughter. She had moved them to a safer subject. Mother does that so well. I hope I’ll remember to be that elegant.
Mother surprised everyone by proposing a toast to Dena’s success. Their glasses tinkled as everyone honored Dena. She beamed.
“What did I just miss? A toast to Dena?” Stuart asked as he came in the room and sat next to his sister. “Sorry I’m late, Mother. My professor got intense with my documentary.”
“Really? Really?” Emily butted in. And then before anyone else could speak, she asked. “Stuart? What did he say?”
He grinned. Intentionally ignoring his sister, he turned his attention to Dena. “So how do you like Stanford so far? Did you get the grand tour? Did you get into the classes you wanted to take? Thank you, Polly.” He flashed a smile when she set his plate before him. Aunt Doreen passed a platter of roast beef, watching her son closely.
“Stuart!”
“Okay.” He raised his hand in resignation. “He likes the documentary of you. He wants me to enter it in a contest. He—”
“What? What on earth are you talking about Stuart?” Aunt Doreen broke into the conversation. Dena stopped eating. This was news to her aunt. “What documentary? What contest?”
“Sorry, Mother,” Stuart apologized. After that he chuckled mainly to himself. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure. But my professor is really impressed with it. My document is on Emily at her job. You know, a struggling freshman working her way through school while studying drafting and engineering. It makes her a pioneer in the field.”
“I think that’s great. Really,” Dena spoke up happily, yet a bit annoyed that she wasn’t in the documentary. “Emily will be an educated movie star.”
“Oh you, I can see we’re going to be friends.” Emily laughed. She held up her glass and saluted her cousin, “To Dena.”
“To Dena.” Everyone chorused. Stuart winked at his cousin.
Smiling, Dena raised her glass in mock salute hoping to look sophisticated. How exciting it would be to do a documentary; to be a star myself. The telephone rang. Stuart rose and answered it while Polly served the lemon ice cream.
“Mother,” he called. “It’s Dad.” Aunt Doreen smiled but made no move to go t
“Mother.” Susan leaned close and whispered. “Mother will we have time to go back to the department store for maybe one more outfit?”
“We’ll see,” Mother said wearily. Mother was anxious about what was going on at home, she didn’t want to think about shopping.
“Well, I hope you get an outfit in a color other than blue.” Dena said, her eyes glinting.
“I beg your pardon,” Susan said, mimicking Mother both in word and tone. It was timely, causing everyone to laugh which broke the tension. Dena relaxed, enjoying the last bite of her ice cream. She loved teasing Susan.
“Let’s go to your room and plan our next two days,” Mother spoke softly. Rising, she walked over and put an arm around each girl. “I want to have some time together—just us.”
Once upstairs, they each settled in a different area on the bed. It’s just like a slumber party. She almost laughed at her wit except she didn’t really find it funny. Who would want her mother at their slumber party?
“Now,” Mother broke into Dena’s thoughts, “I want each of us to think about this moment and about each other, and most of all, about how we—our personalities, our very lives—are so entwined, that no matter where we are, we will still be family.” Dena and Susan sniffled.
“I’ll start with a favorite verse of mine, ‘My character, thoughts, conduct, and conversation—’”
“Mother, that’s a paraphrase of Psalm 139:1–4,” Dena interrupted. She pursed her lips in a smug fashion, looking directly at her sister. It pleased her that she had recognized the verse before Susan.
“Very good, Dena. I wanted to see if you remembered. You are going to be challenged every day. You are in a completely different lifestyle, and I want you to always bear in mind your upbringing,” Mother instructed. Dena nodded soberly.
“I like Psalm 46:10: ‘Be still and know that I am God,’” Susan quoted quietly, her eyes on the ceiling. She turned, faced them and grinned openly. Mother chuckled and then laughed. The more they looked at each other, the harder they laughed. They laughed until tears streamed down their faces.
“That was a good one, Susan.” Dena wiped her eyes. For once she didn’t care that Susan quipped out a great thought. “That was really good.”
Mother nodded. Each sat silent for a few minutes. Dena knew the special moment had been lost. She sighed deeply, not caring who heard.
“Mother.” Susan broke the silence. “What can we do for Dad? I’m really worried.”
“I know. But what we can do now is pray. Pray for guidance and peace, and a safe trip home, and for a quick answer to the crisis.”
“Can anyone come in, or is this a private party?” Aunt Doreen poked her head in.
“Come in.” Mother looked at her sister-in-law with pleasure.
“Walter is talking to Emily. He says to tell you hello and thanks, Judith.” She sat down at the end of the bed. Mother nodded slowly as her eyes met her sister-in-law’s. Aunt Doreen leaned back against the footboard with her elbows resting on top of the rail biting at her lip. A slight frown formed.
“Doreen?” Mother asked. An unspoken question dangled. Dena shuddered from the tension.
“He’s also concerned about the impending problem of war,” she continued, emphasizing each word. A scowl knitted her eyebrows together.
“What?” Mother leaned forward, touching Aunt Doreen’s arm. She looked directly into her sister-in-law’s face. "What are you talking about? Oh I know there have been some problems in Japan and China, but that surely doesn’t concern us?”
“He said President Roosevelt is asking Congress for a considerably large amount of money for the cause. That Britain’s bombing Japan and there’s even talk about activating a selective service act here in the United States.” A tear slipped down Aunt Doreen’s face.
What is a selective service act? What does it have to do with war? Her fingers rubbed the palm of the other hand. She hadn’t ever heard of it.
“Oh my, oh my.” Mother leaned back, momentarily silent. Then she asked, “Is it a problem with Walter being in Virginia?”
“Quite frankly, Judith, I don’t really know. I’m concerned; no, I’m plain worried. Walter says they’re working on jet motors for small airplanes. I believe fighter planes. He wouldn’t say he was working on planes for war but …”
“Oh my, oh my,” was all Mother could say. “What about Stuart?”
“I don’t think Stuart will be swayed by the romance of war, but then …” Aunt Doreen smiled weakly, clasping and unclasping her hands. “There’s Bill in the Philippines.” Then she sat forward, inspecting her hands for another moment. “I do know Walter will come home for the holidays, and in the meantime, we’re going to work on our problem.” She nodded knowingly. Mother clasped her hands against her cheeks and grinned, forcing her mouth out into a comical expression. Dena ducked her chin to cover her own grin.
“I think that news calls for another scoop of that delicious lemon ice cream. What do you say Doreen? Ice cream in the garden,” Mother said, making it a statement and not a question.
“Yes …oh, yes.” Aunt Doreen jumped up, almost knocking Susan’s letters off the table. “We do need to celebrate. Dena getting settled in college and a job—”
“Come on, girls, or we may not get ice cream,” Mother said urgently. She laughed, all the while pretending to shoo the girls on ahead of her. Susan looked at Dena, arching her eyebrows as she watched their mother disappear down the stairs. The spontaneity that Mother revealed was so out of character.
“Don’t take the stairs by two’s, girls,” Mother called back to them. The girls had one arm across their stomach and the other hand over their mouth as they descended to the first floor in an exaggerated lady-like fashion and to the garden. Ice cream tasted great on this hot July night, a perfect ending to an unsettling day, Dena thought, licking the last soft drop from the spoon. And, tomorrow is a new day.
***
On the morning Susan and Mother left, Dena stood at the station and watched the train pull away; tears kept her from seeing their faces. Miserable, Dena wiped furiously at her eyes. Only six days ago, she was the one on the train happily waving at her dad and Brock. Now she was the one left behind, waving. She wiped angrily at her nose with one of the embroidered handkerchiefs Mother gave her. Sniffling, she wiped her nose again. Aunt Doreen looped her arm through her niece’s and moved toward the car. “How about you and I go for ice cream?”
“It’s ten thirty.” Her aunt always seemed to surprise her.
“Allowances can be made. Then let’s go shopping, Monday we work and I feel like a new outfit. How about you?”
“Sure.” Dena nodded, still sniffling.
***
September 11, 1939, was the first day of her college life. Drafting classes started with a test. Dena was surprised—no, stunned. What did the professors want to know? I guess it won’t matter. I probably flunked the exams. Where’s Emily? Dena hurried into the crowded hallway. Emily stood a few feet away, waiting.
“Emily,” she whispered. “What did you think of the exam, and why an exam now—the first day?”
“Oh that.” Emily shrugged. “Stuart said it’s normal. The professors want to see which students really want to be in the class and which ones will likely drop out. Don’t worry. Let’s go for a sandwich before you to go to work.”
Dena nodded and followed Emily to the cafeteria. Lunch wasn't her main concern, although she knew it was necessary. Her priority was getting her homework done. A general hum in the cafeteria caught her attention. Everyone was talking about the war in the Middle East and how Japan was bombing China. Dena recognized the young men she had met on the train standing a few tables over from Stuart.
“Hey, Sis,” Stuart said, smiling. He smiled at Dena before he mov
“You okay?” Stuart asked as he signaled a waitress to take their lunch orders.
“Just something in my eye, I think,” she said firmly. He smiled as he causally put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
“Well, I’m ready to fight those slant-eyed foreigners,” someone boldly stated. Several young people along with the two young men from the train joined the group. They all knew Stuart. Jack and Clay—yes that was their names, she smiled relieved that she remembered. Clay smiled, but Jack only nodded. He had a girl with him.
“Did you know that Britain and France declared war on Germany?” another young man asked. What did he mean? She hadn’t heard that. War wasn’t a priority she wanted to think about.
“You know, Roosevelt says that the United States will stay neutral. I say what the …” Jack’s lips had formed the word; then he smiled, somewhat embarrassed, and uttered, “Oops. Sorry, ladies. But what does Roosevelt think that will do? War is war. If we need to fight, we’ll fight.” What was wrong with everyone? Why do they think war is so idealistic? She shuddered and glanced at Emily. Dena sat up straight as Stuart spoke. “Well put, Smith.”
“You know Congress is talking about passing the Selective Service Act. So far, it’s just that—talk; Congress keeps vetoing it. If passed, it would mean everyone would have to serve for a mandatory two years.” Clay said. He smiled at her. Dena dropped her eyes, staring at her drink.
War. The very word makes me sick. Why does it bother me so much?
“I probably should be going,” Dena said, standing up and gathering her books. Her sandwich was partially eaten. “See you and Emily at home.”
Stuart continued talking to the guys. He acted like he didn’t hear. And yet he finished her sandwich. She continued to think about everything that had been said as she walked to the bus stop. On the bus for home, several passengers argued about their political views on Roosevelt’s decisions. The very idea disturbed her.
“Dena stop,” she scolded herself. “War’s real and people die.”