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Authors: Kirby Larson

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BOOK: The Friendship Doll
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Lois was too excited to finish even one stack. But Aunt Eunice kept tucking in, evidently determined to get her ten cents’ worth. After what seemed like a century, she sighed and then patted her mouth with a napkin. “Shall we wash up and be on our way?”

“What would you like to see first, Aunt Eunice?” Lois asked politely, when they’d finished in the washroom.

“My garden club ladies told me all the children enjoy Enchanted Island,” Aunt Eunice said. “We shall begin there.”

Lois held the door for her great-aunt. “Let’s go out this way,” she said. There was so much to see and only this one precious day in which to see it. She didn’t want to waste any more time. Thank goodness she and Mabel had plotted out all kinds of ways to crisscross the fairgrounds. Lois scurried along the path between the North Lagoon and South Lagoon, past the Edison Memorial and then
the Electrical Building. It was all she could do not to run ahead of her plodding great-aunt when they reached the bridge to Enchanted Island. Remembering her manners, she waited and they crossed together.

Lois felt as if she’d stepped into Storybook Land. Her attention snared by the twenty-five-foot-high cutouts of the Tin Man and the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz stories, Lois nearly collided with a costumed man careening around on stilts. “Lois, watch where you’re going,” scolded Aunt Eunice, but the man only laughed and threw confetti at them.

They tapped their toes while a troop of authentic Czechoslovakian dancers spun and twirled; shook hands with Peter Pan and his nemesis, Captain Hook—twice, once for Lois and once for Mabel—and toured inside the popular two-story model of the Radio Flyer coaster wagon. The ground-floor level was full of coaster wagons of all sizes, including teeny-tiny replicas selling for twenty-five cents. Lois thought of the quarter still knotted in her hanky. But, really, she and Mabel had outgrown wagons. So the coin stayed snug in its knot.

When it was time to move on, Aunt Eunice had her own ideas about their next destination. She dismissed both of Lois’ suggestions—the Midget Village and the Prehistory Exhibit.

“It’s all jimcrackery and nonsense,” she said.

Lois bit her tongue, trying not to gaze too longingly at the domed building encircled by the words “The World a Million Years Ago.” She’d heard that inside were replicas
of saber-toothed cats and mastodons, actual size, that really moved. That would be something to see. She swallowed down her disappointment. “Well, what would you like to do next, Auntie?”

“Have a cup of tea. There.” They had walked around the end of the South Lagoon, bypassing, to Lois’ great relief, the Horticultural Building, the Century of Progress Club, and the Infant Incubator. They found themselves on the fringes of the Streets of Paris. Aunt Eunice pointed to an outdoor café nearby. The day was warm, and they’d already covered a lot of ground. A cool drink would hit the spot. A quick cool drink. They sat and ordered tea for Aunt Eunice and lemonade for Lois.

“Would you like to tour the Streets of Paris next?” Lois asked, fretting because Aunt Eunice had ordered hot tea. Hot tea was something her great-aunt might linger over, waiting for it to be cool enough to drink. The morning was flying by too quickly as it was.

“Certainly not!” Aunt Eunice fanned her face with her hand. “It is not appropriate for young girls. Not with that Sally Rand in there, doing that vulgar dance.”

Mabel’s cousin had told Mabel and Lois about Sally Rand and her famous Fan Dance.

“Naked as the day she was born under those feathered fans,” he’d said.

“Have you seen her dance?” Mabel had asked. Her cousin said he tried to, but got kicked out for being under age.

“What about the Chinese Temple of Jehol?” Lois suggested. In the brochure, the temple had looked exotic and intriguing, with its brass gongs and Ming statuary.

“That’s much more appropriate.” Aunt Eunice stirred sugar into her tea.

Lois nearly inhaled her lemonade. Every moment they sat meant some sight went unseen.

Aunt Eunice sipped her tea as if she were a hummingbird. Talk. Sip. Talk talk. Sip.

Lois thought she might explode by the time the teacup was finally empty and the bill paid. She leaped up. “This way, Auntie.” Like a dog straining at a leash, she surged ahead of her great-aunt, until Aunt Eunice’s command to slow down would tug her back. Then ahead she’d go until she heard “Slow down” again.

They walked north, skirting the enormous General Exhibits Building. Up ahead loomed the twin towers of the Sky Ride. Lois’ skin prickled. “I read that they’re over six hundred feet high,” she said, pointing upward. “Taller than any building in Chicago.”

“And taller than anything needs to be,” said Aunt Eunice. She ushered Lois under the formidable carved archway of the Chinese temple. Inside they were bombarded with color—reds and turquoises and golds—and intricate patterns everywhere, on the walls, in the rugs on the floor, even in the temple ceilings. Lois felt as if she’d tumbled into a kaleidoscope.

Aunt Eunice paused to buy a packet of postcards.
“This will be just the thing to show my sewing circle next month.” She looked over at Lois. “I’m sure that quarter’s burning a hole in your pocket”—Aunt Eunice smiled—“or rather in your hanky. But it shows maturity not to spend it on the first geegaw you see.” Aunt Eunice nodded her approval and Lois tried not to let her mouth fly open at this unexpected compliment. “Shall we move on?”

As they left the Temple of Jehol—a bit bleary-eyed from all the decorations—Lois banged one of the big brass gongs. Mabel would have loved it, too. So Lois banged it once for her.

Outside the temple walls, they bumped into one of Aunt Eunice’s acquaintances.

“Myra! How are you, my dear?” Aunt Eunice offered her cheek to the other lady and then introduced Lois.

“Quite the exposition, isn’t it?” Myra placed her hand on Aunt Eunice’s arm. “You’ll never believe what I just rode in!”

“A gondola?” asked Aunt Eunice.

“The dragon ride?” Lois guessed.

Myra shook her head, laughed and pointed up. “The Sky Ride. Me! Can you imagine?”

Lois’ admiration for the skinny old lady in front of her grew tenfold. If
she’d
gone on it, perhaps—

“Is it even safe?” Aunt Eunice pulled her pocketbook closer. “Those cables don’t look sturdy enough to hold one of those contraptions they call rocket cars, let alone a dozen of them.”

“Oh, but you must go!” Myra pointed to Lois. “It will give your niece here a memory she will never forget.”

Aunt Eunice looked horrified. “More likely a fright she’ll never forget!”

“But they’re perfectly secure, Aunt Eunice!” The words slipped out before Lois could stop them. Well, in for a dime, in for a dollar. “I read that they’re as safe as trolley cars. Maybe even safer.”

Aunt Eunice’s eyebrows were spider legs of alarm above her gray eyes. “That may be true, but nothing”—she said this with a stern glance at Myra—“will convince
me
to ride such an unhealthy distance above the ground.”

Myra laughed again. “Oh, Eunice, I remember when you were always the first one up for a new experience. You were such a daredevil.”

Lois stared at her great-aunt. Daredevil?

Aunt Eunice fussed with her hat. “Well, I was younger then,” she said, looking quite flustered.

“Adventure is like the fountain of youth,” Myra teased.

Aunt Eunice shook her head. But a smile fought to overtake her pursed lips. “You always were a caution, Myra.” Aunt Eunice straightened her shoulders. “I’ll see you next month at the library board meeting.”

“Enjoy yourselves!” Myra called after them.

“Fountain of youth!” Aunt Eunice muttered as they walked along.

Lois’ spirits fluttered around wildly, like a butterfly
caught in a net. Thanks to Myra, maybe Aunt Eunice would let her go on the Sky Ride after all. She squeezed the quarter even tighter. Maybe!

“That’s the Hall of Science there, isn’t it?” Aunt Eunice indicated the building with her chin. “That would certainly be educational. Shall we go?”

Lois was fascinated by The Growing Twig, an exhibit that showed, through some fancy photography, a linden growing from sapling to tree in the space of a few minutes. And she’d thought the “Chemistry of Digestion” display would be disgusting, but once she stepped inside the Robot Theater and heard the ten-foot-tall mechanical man explain certain processes of digestion while a movie of those processes played on a special screen in his shirt, she found it so interesting she stayed to listen twice. Once for her and once for Mabel. Aunt Eunice was taken with the Scholl Manufacturing Company exhibit, where she received advice about her bunions from a man in a white coat who said he had been trained under the personal supervision of Dr. William M. Scholl, noted foot authority, himself. Aunt Eunice even unlaced her oxfords for a foot massage. Lois thought they’d never get away from there.

“That was just the thing,” Aunt Eunice said, retying her shoes. “I’m ready to move on again.”

While her great-aunt had enjoyed the attention of the man in the white coat, Lois had been plotting how to ask about the Sky Ride. She decided that it had to seem like
Aunt Eunice’s idea. “Your friend Myra was awfully nice,” she began.

“Oh, speaking of friends”—Aunt Eunice pulled a piece of stationery from her pocketbook—“I nearly forgot.” She scanned the letter in her hand. “Yes. That was it. My dear friend Mrs. Maxwell Wheeler wrote to tell me about an exhibit we simply must see. ‘Dolls from Around the World.’ Doesn’t that sound nice?”

A doll exhibit definitely did not sound nice. Lois forced a smile. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to stay too long.

“It isn’t included in the admission price,” Aunt Eunice continued. “But a portion of the ticket monies goes to support the charity projects of
Everyland Magazine.
” She folded the letter back up and put it away. “Do you think we could find the Special Exhibits Hall?”

Lois knew exactly which way to go. Their route took them directly below the Sky Ride. The towers seemed like two long arms, beckoning Lois to partake of atmospheric wonders beyond imagination. As she gazed up at the tantalizing towers, into the bright sun, she found herself blinking back tears.

Aunt Eunice made a big show of handing two dimes to the thin young man at the entrance to “Dolls from Around the World.” “Follow the red walkway and you won’t miss a thing,” he told them. “Enjoy yourselves!”

Inside the door, Aunt Eunice paused. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “About what Myra said. A little adventure
is good for the soul.” She put her hand on Lois’ arm. “Your father gave you that quarter to spend as you see fit. Though I choose to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground, when we are through here, you may ride on that Sky Ride.”

Lois gave a little squeal, and threw her arms around her great-aunt’s waist. “Oh, thank you, Aunt Eunice. Thank you!”

Aunt Eunice patted Lois briskly on the back. “Mind you, you’ll have to buy your own ticket,” she added.

“Of course. Yes! You’ve given me so much already!” Lois couldn’t feel the floor under her feet. She was certain she was floating. The Sky Ride! If only Aunt Eunice had made her decision before paying the admission to the doll exhibit. Then Lois would’ve asked if they could head straight there. But her great-aunt would not waste the twenty cents she’d just spent. Lois crossed her fingers that it wouldn’t take too long to look at the dolls.

They found the red pathway that would lead them in a spiral through the exhibit. Lois marched along, hoping to encourage Aunt Eunice to pick up her pace. But no. Her great-aunt meandered past rag dolls and stuffed animals and dolls from Germany, France, and Italy. After what seemed like hours, she pulled a fan from her pocketbook. “My lands,” she said. “It’s warm in here.” She spied a bench. “You may finish taking the tour. I’ll rest a bit. Shall we meet back here in thirty minutes?”

“Oh, we can go now if you’re ready,” Lois offered helpfully. Hopefully.

“No, no. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on this opportunity.”

“Really, I don’t mind—”

Aunt Eunice dismissed Lois with her fan. “You can give me a report on what I missed.”

“Okay,” Lois said. Then she caught the look on Aunt Eunice’s face. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”

Aunt Eunice settled onto the bench with an
oof
. “Go along. Have fun.”

Thirty minutes! Pure torture. How would she survive a whole half hour before her dream came true? Lois sighed, but trudged forward. If Amelia could suffer through horrible headaches every time she flew, Lois could manage a thirty-minute wait to ride in a rocket car.

She made a halfhearted effort to look at the dolls she passed, but she did stop in front of a Victorian dollhouse, furnished with the most amazing miniatures. There was even an egg no bigger than a candy sprinkle frying in a teeny skillet on a midget cookstove. Mabel would have gone crackers over the dollhouse. She was crazy about such things. That was why her father always brought her miniatures from his business trips: a tiny iron when he traveled to Pittsburgh. An orange tree no bigger than a thimble from Florida. A fairy-sized carved horse from New York. Her whole collection fit in a Lipton tea tin.

Lois noticed a sign near the dollhouse: “Take Home Replicas. Visit Our Gift Shop!”

She turned away quickly, following the path down another hall, completely lost in thought. She passed dolls
made of paper and papier-mâché. The more she walked, the more she was certain that Mabel would want her to use the quarter for the Sky Ride. Think of the thrilling stories she could tell her! They would last longer than any silly souvenir. That was definitely the thing to do.

Her step and heart lighter, Lois found herself in the innermost room of the warrenlike exhibition hall. The other rooms had been chockablock with dolls of every sort and type. But this final, small chamber held only one doll. And Lois was its only visitor. She stepped closer to read the placard next to the doll. “Miss Kanagawa.” All the way from Japan! Jeepers! This Miss Kanagawa doll was one of the prettiest in the exhibit. Its silky hair was the color of the strands of jet Aunt Eunice wore around her neck.

BOOK: The Friendship Doll
13.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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