American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1 Read online

  The clock ticked slowly. Every few minutes Rosa peeked at it, hoping the hands would move faster. All the children in the school wanted to go home. When they could not play, school was not a fun place to be. Some of the younger children were frightened and whimpered while the storm raged. Finally the sky began to get lighter. Miguel asked la maestra if they could go home. Then Roderigo asked, then Maria, then Juanita. Each time Señora Gonzalez shook her head. No. It was not safe yet. Rosa watched the clock. Finally, when Mierta asked to go home, la maestra nodded.

  After four hours, the wind had calmed down. The air was heavy with dust, but if the children were careful, they could walk home safely. If they did not go soon, nightfall would come. Rosa did not want to spend the whole night in the school.

  Rosa dashed out the door as soon as Señora Gonzalez gave permission. She held the hem of her long skirt up to her face as she ran. Running in the dirt reminded Rosa of running in snow. The storm had piled up the dirt in the road so high that it was up to her knees. The little children could hardly walk at all. Older brothers and sisters picked them up to carry them. Once Rosa stumbled and fell face-first into the dirt. Spitting out dirt, she scrambled to her feet and kept going.

  She could hardly see the road ahead of her. Instead, she watched the trees along the side of the road. Not many trees grew there, but Rosa knew the ones that did. She knew which tree meant that she should turn left and which tree meant that she should keep going straight. One by one, the children turned off to their homes. Rosa had forgotten all about Mrs. Madden and Henry. She only wanted to be home!

  Mamá and Papá would be worried about her. Every time a storm came while Rosa was at school, they waited and watched for her to make it home safely. Each time, they prayed that no one in the family would get hurt.

  Rosa started to cough. With every breath, she pulled dust into her throat and lungs. Fine grains of sand in the air stung her cheeks. She pressed the hem of her skirt closer to her face. Her eyes squinted through the dusty air to see where she was going.

  At last she saw her house. The wash on the line was black with dirt. Mamá would have to wash everything again. Rosa raced as fast as she could to the house and pulled open the big front door.

  “Mamá!” Rosa called. “Mamá! Tía! Are you here?” She raced from room to room, looking for Mamá and Tía and Isabella. They were not in the kitchen or the big room or the back porch. Rosa climbed the stairs. “Mamá! Tía!”

  She found them in a bedroom, huddled under a blanket. The blanket was dark with heavy dust, but under it, Mamá’s and Tía’s faces were almost clean.

  “Rosa!” Mamá threw off the blanket and opened her arms to hug her daughter. “Rosa, are you all right?”

  Rosa wrapped her arms around Mamá’s neck. “I’m fine, Mamá. How is everybody here?” Rosa lifted the blanket on baby Isabella’s basket to see her little cousin sound asleep.

  “Your papá and tío are in the barn with the milking cows. You know how much dirt comes in through the walls of the barn. It will be a lot of work to shovel it all out. Your brothers are looking for the animals. They don’t want the chickens to die from the dust. We need the eggs those chickens give us. Juan is worried about one of the pigs who is not moving around much these days.”

  “Yes, Mamá. I will help clean up. Shall I begin with the kitchen?”

  Mamá sighed. “Yes, we will begin with the kitchen. We will have to sweep and wash all the dishes before we can eat supper.”

  “I will help, too,” Tía said. She pushed the blanket off her knees and reached for Isabella’s basket.

  Tía coughed, and her shoulders shuddered.

  “Tía!” Rosa exclaimed. “That sounds like it hurts!”

  “Yes, it hurts. But it hurts me more to know that I am too sick to help.”

  “We want you to get well, Tía.”

  “I know. You are both very sweet. But I want to help clean up.” Tía coughed so hard that she could hardly breathe.

  “You need a damp cloth,” Rosa declared. “I’ll get you one.”

  “Thank you. Then I will come downstairs. If I don’t have the strength to sweep, at least I can help cook.”

  Rosa went downstairs and opened a drawer in the kitchen. Even the towels and cloths in the drawer were brown with dust. She rinsed a cloth in clean water, wrung it out, and took it to Tía.

  Mamá came back downstairs with Rosa this time. She carried Isabella’s basket. Tía wanted to come down, but Mamá would not let her.

  Rosa’s brothers burst through the back door. Mamá raised her eyebrows to ask if the animals were all right.

  “We found all the chickens in the pen, Mamá,” Juan said. “They are clacking up a storm of their own, but they are fine.”

  “God has blessed us,” Mamá said. “And the pigs?”

  Téodoro nodded. “Yes, the pigs are fine, as well. We had to uncover Old Hombre. He did not have sense to get out of the way of the storm, and the dust almost buried him.”

  “He is old and tired,” Mamá said. “It is difficult for him to move quickly.”

  “What about the range cattle?” Rosa asked.

  Rafaél shook his head. “Most of them are out in the pastures. Soon it will be too dark to look for them. We will have to hope they survive until tomorrow.”

  Everyone was silent. They all knew that every time one of the range cattle died, the family lost many dollars. They had one less cow to sell to the meatpacking plants in Dalhart or to sell to ranchers in other states. The owner of the ranch would take the value of the cow out of their earnings. Sometimes a storm came so fast and hard that it buried cattle before anyone could bring them to safety. Workers looked for days to find all the cattle roaming the ranch.

  Rosa went to the corner of the kitchen to get the broom. Slowly she began to push the dirt into piles near the back door. She had done this many times before. Often she wished that she had a shovel instead of a broom. The dirt that came through the walls of the house was thick and deep. Moving it with just a broom was hard work. Even if she had six pairs of arms and twelve brooms, cleaning up would take a long time.

  Mamá found a cardboard box and tore off the flaps. She used them to scoop up dirt from the table and counters and the stove and carried the dirt to the back door.

  “If only we could plant something in all this dirt,” Mamá said. “It is such a waste to have so much dirt in the house and no good soil in the fields.”

  They worked together silently for a long time. While she rested from pushing the broom, Rosa could hear Tía coughing upstairs. Isabella stirred in her basket, and Rosa peeked in and smiled at her. Isabella smiled back and began to wave her hands at Rosa’s face.

  “Isabella doesn’t know we had a dust storm,” Rosa said.

  “She is too little to understand,” Mamá said. “She just wants someone to keep her safe. She is lucky to have you.”

  Rosa smiled at Mamá’s compliment. Inside, she thought, Sometimes I wish I were too little to understand. Then I could just learn and grow like you, little Isabella.

  “Rosa, mi hija,” Mamá said, “it’s getting late. I must make supper. The men will be hungry.”

  “You cook, Mamá. Make the biggest supper you can. I will finish cleaning.”

  “It’s too late to start cooking, and everyone is tired. We’ll just have cold sandwiches.”

  That meant lard sandwiches, Rosa knew. Eating pork fat smeared on a piece of bread was better than being hungry, but she sure didn’t like lard sandwiches.

  They worked silently for a while. Finally Mamá spoke.

  “I am sorry that you did not get to have your lesson today, mi hija.”

  “Thank you, Mamá. I really wanted to go to Mrs. Madden’s house. But I can go tomorrow. I have waited a long time to learn. I can be patient one more day.” Please, no more dust storms! Rosa thought.

  Just then, Papá and Tío came in.

  “I am so glad that everyone is safe,” Papá said. He laid his hand on Rosa
’s head affectionately.

  “How is Natalia?” Tío asked.

  “She’s upstairs,” Mamá answered. “She wanted to help clean up, but I would not allow it.”

  “Thank you, hermana,” Tío said. “You are taking very good care of my wife.”

  “We are all taking care of each other,” Mamá said.

  Tío sighed and peeked into Isabella’s basket. “Soon things will get better,” Tío said. “We have seen many storms worse than this one. This may be the last one. The spring rains will come, and we will plant a good crop. In the fall we will have a good harvest.”

  Tío turned and went upstairs to see Tía.

  Rosa watched Mamá and Papá look at each other. Tío often said that things would get better soon. Papá was not so sure.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Essay

  Rosa ran to Mrs. Madden’s house on the last day of school. Each day, she could hardly wait to get there. Mrs. Madden kept a special pile of books for Rosa, and Rosa could choose what she wanted to read. If the words were too hard, Mrs. Madden helped her sound them out. Then they talked about the people and ideas in the books. Some of the books were true stories, and some of them were made-up stories. Rosa liked the made-up stories best.

  Rosa learned about adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing. Mrs. Madden made learning math fun. Sometimes, she wrote numbers on a piece of paper for Rosa to work on. But sometimes, she made up little stories with numbers in them, and Rosa had to concentrate hard as she listened. Then it was her turn to write down the numbers from the story and decide if she should add or subtract, multiply or divide. How much money did Mr. Peters make when he sold his cattle? How many baskets of fruit will the church need for the picnic? How long will it take to drive from Texas to California?

  The spelling words were Rosa’s favorite part of her lessons. She learned many new English words, and Mrs. Madden made up the silliest sentences. Then Mrs. Madden asked Rosa to teach her how to say the words in Spanish. At home, Rosa began to say English words to baby Isabella. She hoped Isabella would learn to speak English perfectly.

  School was out for the summer. Now Rosa could go to Mrs. Madden’s house and study while Henry took a nap. Papá said she still had to do her chores in the morning and the evening. Mamá did not want her to bother Mrs. Madden too much. Rosa did not think she was a bother to Mrs. Madden.

  Rosa was breathless by the time she got to the Madden home and knocked on the front door. Mrs. Madden opened the door and smiled.

  “Rosa! I’m so glad you could come.”

  “School is out now!” Rosa exclaimed.

  “I know! Now you can work twice as hard at your lessons.”

  “And I can learn twice as much.”

  “I hope so. What shall we start with today?”

  Rosa chose a book about the history of the United States. She had never been anywhere outside of northwest Texas, the part of Texas that looked like the handle of a cooking pan, but she knew that the United States was an enormous country. Rosa wondered who the first settlers were, and she wanted to read about the Revolutionary War and the Declaration of Independence. Stories about pioneers in the Old West were so exciting that Rosa could imagine herself being there. For hundreds of years, families came to the New World with hope for a better life, just the way the Sanchez family came from Mexico.

  Mrs. Madden asked Rosa to read aloud so she could help her pronounce the words correctly. Henry sat quietly in his mother’s lap as if he were learning to read, too. At school, the clock seemed to stand still. At Mrs. Madden’s house, the time went by so fast that it was time for supper before Rosa realized it.

  “You seem very interested in American history,” Mrs. Madden said.

  “I love to learn about this country,” Rosa responded. “It’s not the same as the stories my brothers tell me about Mexico. When I read a book like this, I learn a lot of things I never knew before.”

  “Would you like to take the book home with you?” Mrs. Madden asked.

  Rosa’s eyes widened. “You would let me take your book home?” She could hardly believe her ears. She had never had an English book at home before.

  “Of course,” Mrs. Madden answered, laughing. “Read some more chapters, and we’ll talk about them tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Madden. No one has ever been this kind to me before. Thank you very much.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Rosa,” Mrs. Madden said. “It’s fun to have such an enthusiastic student.”

  Holding the book carefully, Rosa went home to her chores. She had to feed the chickens and sweep the kitchen. First she went upstairs to see if Tía needed anything, and then she peeked into Isabella’s basket. They were both sleeping, so Rosa crept to her own room and made sure Mrs. Madden’s book was safe under her pillow. Then she went back downstairs, trying not to make the steps creak.

  She swept the kitchen floor, then went to the barn to find something to feed the chickens. Tío tried to keep bags of grain to feed the chickens. Sometimes he had oats or corn or wheat. But the drought had made it so hard to grow crops that even the chickens did not have enough to eat. Mamá sometimes gave them dried bread or leftover rice and beans. Mamá never threw away a crumb of food. Instead, she tossed it into the bucket in the barn to feed the chickens or the pigs.

  Rosa did her best to spread the chicken feed around the pen so that the bigger chickens did not eat everything before the smaller ones came to eat. Then she stepped out of the pen and watched the chickens picking at the ground and grabbing bits of food with their beaks.

  Mamá would call everyone for supper soon. Rosa lifted her eyes to the sky. It had been so long since she had seen a truly clear sky. With the drought and dust storms, the sky was always brownish and heavy-looking.

  Rosa heard a scratching noise and turned her head to look behind her. When she heard the sound again, she knew it came from a nearby tree. Rosa scanned the branches until she saw the bird. It chirped while it tidied the walls of a nest. Birds made nests out of tiny sticks and long grass. But not this bird. So little grass grew in the pastures. Even the trees were too dry to grow new branches. The bird had made its nest out of pieces of barbed-wire fences. Rosa did not think that a barbed-wire nest would be very comfortable for the baby birds when they hatched. But what could she do? She felt more sad for the bird with the metal nest than she did for herself.

  Rosa soon fell into a pattern for the summer. After cleaning up the breakfast dishes each morning, she went to Mrs. Madden’s house. While Henry took his morning nap, Rosa studied. She was full of questions! But Mrs. Madden never seemed to get tired of answering them. When Henry woke up, Rosa played with him for a while so Mrs. Madden could wipe the dust off the tables or prepare lunch for her husband.

  “Henry has a question,” Rosa said one day as she held Henry on her hip.

  Mrs. Madden smiled. “Is that so?” She was wiping dust off dishes in the kitchen.

  “Yes, ma’am. Henry wants to know why the American flag has thirteen stripes and forty-eight stars.”

  “Well, let’s see. You can tell Henry that the stripes are for the thirteen original colonies, and the forty-eight stars represent the forty-eight states in the Union.”

  “I think Henry understands now,” Rosa answered.

  They played this game day after day. Rosa said Henry had a question, and Mrs. Madden answered it. Then Rosa repeated the answer to Henry with an exaggerated voice that made him giggle.

  One day, Mrs. Madden handed Rosa a piece of paper. “Can you read this by yourself?”

  Rosa studied the words on the page. “‘We are pleased to … a–announce the theme for this year’s … con-test. Essays must … answer the question, “Why do I love America?”’”

  “Very good,” Mrs. Madden said. “Every year the town has this contest. The children write short essays to answer a question, and the winner gets a prize.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Rosa said, puzzled.

  “Rosa,” Mrs.
Madden said with a serious tone, “how brave can you be?”

  “Why? Is the contest dangerous?”

  “It might be dangerous for you. No Mexican children have ever entered the contest before.”

  “Oh.” Rosa was disappointed. She wanted to write an essay.

  “I think you should enter, Rosa.”

  “But you said Mexican children are not allowed.”

  “No, I said no Mexican children have ever entered. I see nothing in the rules that limits the background of the children who participate.”

  “Do you really think I should enter?”

  “Yes, I do, Rosa. I believe you would write a wonderful essay.”

  “I do love America,” Rosa said thoughtfully.

  “You certainly do.”

  “And I would like to write an essay.”

  “The rules say you have to do it all on your own without any help.”

  “Do you really think I can?” Rosa asked. Writing an essay in English without Mrs. Madden’s help would be scary.

  “I believe in you with all my heart,” Mrs. Madden answered. “Then I should do it!”

  Mrs. Madden clapped her hands. Then Henry clapped his. Rosa laughed.

  A few days later, while Rosa worked on arithmetic, someone knocked on Mrs. Madden’s front door. When Mrs. Madden opened the door, Rosa heard voices. She thought there were at least two men and wondered if Mrs. Madden was all right. Rosa watched as Mrs. Madden stepped out onto her front porch and closed the door behind her. Rosa supposed that was because Henry was sound asleep. Still curious, Rosa moved to the open window. She recognized Mr. Decker from the granary in town and Mr. Elliot from the cattle auction.

  “I won’t have you speaking about that delightful child that way,” Mrs. Madden said sternly. “You don’t even know her. She’s lovely.”