Operation by Jenni L Walsh

Author:Jenni L Walsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Published: 2024-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

Part 2

Evacuee

Chapter 22

Top Ten

It takes over a hundred and sixty hours until the loudspeaker announces the Lurline is approaching San Francisco. I told Happy I’d visit him every hour and I have, unless I’ve been sleeping, which frankly hasn’t been much.

For the first time, I’ve made a list of things I despise.

#1: Happy is not with me.

#2: There are no mattresses to sleep on, just pieces of canvas held together by ropes.

#3: Our cabin is so far below deck that if we’re torpedoed or capsized, we’d never get out.

#4: We’re not allowed to shower because there’s not enough water.

#5: Peggy is seasick. And reminds me of it every hour she is awake.

#6: Somehow, all Mom does is sleep.

#7: The loudspeaker declares “Darken Ship” every night, plunging us into darkness surrounded by the dark sea and dark sky.

#8: I step in a pile of vomit. Twice.

#9: I have nothing to read.

And, #10: I celebrate my birthday aboard this wretched, smelly ship.

After seven days, two days longer than the trip would have taken if we didn’t have to zigzag across the Pacific to save ourselves from being a target, I couldn’t be more elated to be almost back on land. But before we disembark, I shake Mom awake. “Shouldn’t we freshen up?”

Mom is slow to sit up, slow to look at me, even slower to say, “Yes, of course.”

In a haze, Mom gently works out the snarls and finger curls our hair. She asks a steward for a bowl full of water. We wash our faces. We then open the boxes with our names that Mom packed, the ones she’d hid in Dad’s workshop. I pull out a navy-blue suspender skirt, a cape, and a white blouse. I top it off with a Banana hat. Peggy and I match from head to toe.

“It’s important to look your best,” Mom says, but I can tell her heart’s not in it. She misses Dad. So do I.

I’ve rescued Happy from the kennels, and at last, we’re ready to get off.

On the top deck, I shiver at the very-non-Hawaii chill in the air as we watch the gangplank lower until it touches the dock. We’re told to wait longer. The wounded are seen to first, with doctors and nurses coming onboard. A few reporters follow them.

“Hey!” one says, spotting us. “You all look as pretty as a picture.” And it’s true. On the outside, we look put together. On the inside, though, we’ve seen war. “Can we film you?”

“I don’t know,” Mom murmurs.

He revises his request with, “Just walk down the gangplank and I’ll get you in action.”

In the past, I’d love this. I’d do my best Shirley Temple impersonation. Happy would strut his stuff. But . . . now . . . after all we’ve been through, I have no desire to be on parade. Gone are the tropical fish and sweet-smelling flowers. Gone is our theater and mango war. Gone is Dad.

Mom sighs. “We have to go down anyway. Better than standing here freezing off our .

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