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Authors: Lois Lenski

Flood Friday (5 page)

BOOK: Flood Friday
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“Let’s get dressed up,” Barbara went on.

Sally and Karen needed no encouragement. “And play
ladies
!” they added.

The soldier came back with a large box of shoes. He grinned at the girls again and went out. The girls lost no time in looking over the clothes. They took things out and dropped what they didn’t want on the floor.

“Here’s two dresses for my baby sister!” cried Sally, holding them up.

A woman came out of a classroom.

“Don’t touch those clothes, children,” she said and hurried away.

“We don’t hear too good, do we, Barbara?” said Sally laughing.

The girls found ladies’ skirts and blouses and put them on. They took off their rubbers and put on high-heeled shoes. They paraded through the hall.

They were having great fun when the boys came up. Sally’s little brothers, Jack and Tim, were with the Dillon boys. Sally walked away when she saw Tommy Dillon appear.

“What you girls doin’?” asked Tommy. “Helpin’ yourselves to new clothes?” He picked up a boy’s shirt off the pile. “These ain’t new clothes. These are old cast-offs that people didn’t want any more.”

He followed the girls and jeered at them. The other boys tagged along.

“Look at the pretty young ladies, all dressed up in high heels!” Tommy teased. “Don’t you wish you had a pocketbook with a pretty
compact
in it, so you could powder your nose?”

“I
hate
you, Tommy Dillon!” cried Sally. “You’re
mean
!”

The girls hurried into the gymnasium. Other children were there, waiting or playing listlessly. They closed the door behind them. When the boys did not come to open it, the girls went to the stage and pretended to act in a play in front of the curtain. Still the boys did not come. They went back to the hall door and peeked out.

“Look! Tommy Dillon is taking clothes for himself!” cried Karen.

Tommy was reaching into one of the boxes, so the girls hurried back. Now, Tommy was on the floor with the other boys, all smaller than himself—his own three brothers, Mike, Donny and Frank, and Sally’s little brothers, Jack and Tim. Bobby was helping him. Rusty the dog was there too.

“What are you doing, Tommy Dillon?” demanded Sally. “Taking clothes and shoes for yourself without asking anybody?”

Tommy held up a small pair of shoes. He pointed to the little boys’ feet. He spoke seriously now.

“All these little kids was barefooted. Their feet was wet and cold. I found shoes and socks for ’em—just the right size. That’s what these clothes and shoes are for—for the people who lost everything.”

Sally could not find a word to say. Jack and Tim showed her their new shoes and socks. She nodded, admiring. Then she saw Barbara Boyd taking off her grown-up clothes. Barbara folded them neatly and put them back in the carton.

“What you taking them off for?” asked Sally.

Barbara did not answer. Tommy was looking through the clothing box again. Barbara was helping him. She asked him what size he wore. They found two shirts, a pair of dungarees, shoes and socks that looked just right. Tommy put them in a little pile.

The same lady came back to the same classroom again. She stopped and said to Tommy, “You can’t have those, boy. You didn’t lose anything.” Tommy’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t?”

Barbara spoke up. “Oh yes, he did,” she said. “He was rescued by helicopter. He lost
everything
.”

The woman said nothing more. She went in the classroom and closed the door behind her.

Sally’s brother, Bobby, began digging in the box. He found a piece of fur and tied it round his head. Jack and Tim chased him, calling him
Davy.

Bobby said, “See my fuzzy-buzzy! No, I’m not Davy—I didn’t kill no b’ar!”

The door of the Principal’s office opened, and a large woman came down the hall. She had black hair and fierce black eyes behind her glasses. She bore down upon the children before they had time to move.

“What’s this? What are you children doing?” she cried. “Have you been fooling around with the clothing? Who told you you could open these boxes?”

None of them answered.

“Go to the gymnasium, all of you,” she ordered. “The children are to stay in the gymnasium. They are not allowed in the halls.”

Sheepishly, the children walked away. They went back to the gym.

“That’s Mrs. Bradford,” said Barbara. “She’s president of the PTA.”

Sally still wore her “lady” clothes. “Why didn’t you keep yours?” she asked.

“I’m tired of playing that,” said Barbara. “It’s too babyish.”

Without a word, Sally took off her skirt, blouse and high-heeled slippers. “What can I do with them?” she asked.

“Go put them back in the clothing box,” said Barbara.

“But what if Mrs. Bradford sees me?” asked Sally.

“Just tell her you’re sorry,” said Barbara.

Sally ran down the hall and tossed the clothes in the box. The woman was gone, so no one noticed.

4
STILL AT SCHOOL

“L
OOK AT THOSE KIDS
!” said Sally.

Back in the gymnasium, the children were playing. The boys turned somersaults on the mats. They got up in the bleachers and jumped down, turning flipflops on the mats.

Sally, Karen and Barbara and some of the other girls played hide-and-seek on the stage. It was dark back of the curtain, and they bumped around, hitting their heads on water pipes. Ruth Nelson brought a flashlight and tried shining it in their faces. The Nelsons, another River Bend family, had just been brought in.

There were two pianos on the stage. Tommy Dillon and Jerry Nelson started drumming on them. Rusty jumped and barked loudly. Then, afraid the noise would be heard and somebody would come in, the boys ran and hid under the seats. Karen and Ruth Nelson played with Karen’s rag doll. While they were playing, the children forgot all about the flood.

At last Sally got tired of tearing around. When the gymnasium door opened to let more children in, she slipped out. She walked through the halls quietly, hoping no one would notice her. She was lonesome for her mother, but could not find her.

Other women were in the kitchen cooking now, and the cafeteria tables were full. Was it lunch time? Sally had no idea. The big clock on the wall was not going. It said two o’clock. Was that afternoon or the night before? The place smelled of coffee— everybody was drinking it. Oil stoves had been brought in and it was being served hot.

Then Sally saw Tommy Dillon.

“The Red Cross sent in plenty of food,” he told her. “You can have all you want—if they got it!”

“Is it hard to get?” asked Sally.

“No,” said Tommy. “Just sit down and they bring you something. The food’s
hot
now. They’ve got stoves to cook on.”

Tommy and Jerry sat down and soon they were eating. They had spaghetti, peaches and apple cider. Sally sat down on the other side.

“We been here five times,” Tommy whispered across the table. “Nobody keeps track of how many times we eat.” He pressed his stomach. “Gee! This tastes good.”

Jerry Nelson walked over to a table and got a bottle of soda and a dish of melted ice cream. He poured the soda on the ice cream and called it Sunday-pop. “The helicopter brought crates of cold drinks,” he said.

“Nobody counts how many sodas you drink,” said Tommy. “Us kids are having about fifteen each. I’ve had strawberry, sarsaparilla, raspberry …”

“Why do you drink all that?” asked Sally.

“It’s hot today,” said Tommy, “and there’s no water.”

Sally did not get spaghetti. A woman brought her cornflakes, but she was tired of them, so she went out. In the hall stood two large Army jugs with taps. People were crowding around to get drinks. Tommy Dillon was wrong. There was water, after all. A woman handed out paper cups. Sally was waiting in line, when Tommy Dillon pushed in in front of her.

“Go ahead,” she said, “if you’re in such a hurry.”

“Oh for a drink of cold water!” cried Tommy.

He filled his cup and took a drink. He made an ugly face and said to the woman, “I asked for cold water and you gave me hot.”

Sally said, “Isn’t that just too bad!” She drank her own.

The woman explained, “We boiled it and it hasn’t cooled off yet. We have no ice and no icebox. So you’ll have to drink it warm.”

“It’s still wet,” said the next man in line.

Sally wandered in the hall. The classrooms were open now, filled with people, most of them strangers to her. They were all talking about the flood and what a hard time they had and the things that had washed away. All they could do was eat all day. If they did not want to eat, they could just sit. Volunteer workers were hurrying back and forth, trying to help. In the gymnasium, mothers were putting young children down for naps. She saw her mother and baby Betty, both sleeping. A woman told everybody to keep quiet. Sally was too restless to sleep, so she went out again.

A sick boy on a stretcher was carried into the health room. Soon Dr. Otis came out, saying, “He’s getting the virus.” But he was called back in again. As Sally passed the door, the black-haired woman with the beady eyes, spotted her. Sally darted away, but the woman came and took her by the arm.

“Here,” she said. “You know where the gym is, don’t you?”

BOOK: Flood Friday
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