Sixteen
Spring 1893
Sarah was excited, but as always, her excitement was chipped away by self-doubt. Miss Benedict had chosen her to head the Hull House poster committee. The posters were to announce the grand opening of the public playground. It was her job to see that posters were made and distributed around the neighborhood.
“But…I’ve never headed a committee before,” she said to Bianca.
Bianca stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and glowered at her. “If I hear one more time that you’re worried whether you’re smart enough, or fat enough, or tall enough, or can paint well enough…I’m going to throw up. And what’s really disgusting is that you do everything you worried you couldn’t do better than anyone else!”
“Why are you so angry? Do you want to head the committee?”
Bianca shrugged. “Just forget I said anything.”
“I can’t forget it!” Sarah said. “It’s already printed on my brain.”
Bianca let out a long sigh. “Let’s just start our conversation over.”
Sarah suppressed a giggle. “I can’t. I don’t know what I said.”
Bianca rolled her eyes.
“How’s this?” Sarah squared her shoulders and flashed a confident smile. “Oh, Bianca! Miss Benedict chose me to head the poster committee! I want to jump for joy.”
Bianca laughed. “So! Go ahead, jump!”
They walked the rest of the way talking about poster designs.
Subbie’s face lit up when Sarah asked if he and Charley could work together to make posters for the playground opening.
“If the posters got grass on them, I can do it real good,” he said.
It was so easy to make him happy.
Charley said that he and Subbie would be responsible for eight posters, all with grass on them. Bianca was making five. Isabelle said she’d try to make two. And Dominic would make three. If she made ten that would be enough.
§
Sarah had given Sammy his own piece of paper to keep him from bothering her as she worked on the posters. He brushed paint on it so energetically that he tore through the paper to the table underneath.
“Sammy. That’s a paint brush, not a hammer!” She took the paint from him and gave him a wet rag to wash away the purple smears.
Fanny was peeling potatoes at the sink. She looked over her shoulder. “Can’t you paint something besides maypoles?”
“I love the circle of long colored ribbons.”
“Have you ever seen a maypole?”
“Miss Benedict brought pictures to class.”
“I finished!” Sammy announced, waving the wet rag.
“Fanny, it would help if you made at least one poster.”
“I’ve got things to do.”
Sarah frowned. “All you do is stare out of the window with that sappy look that tells me you’re thinking about Sean.”
Fanny had been thinking of Sean. She put her finger to her lips, nodding urgently toward Rifke copying a word onto her vocabulary list.
Bad slip. Fanny had told Sarah about the boy she’d met at the dance and Sarah had promised she wouldn’t breathe a word of it.
“His name is Sean Dillon.” Fanny had moved closer to Sarah in their cubicle and kept her voice low. “He has dark hair, blue eyes and…” Fanny rolled her eyes and pretended to swoon. “And…a dimple in his left cheek that disappears, but then comes back when he smiles.”
“Is he tall?”
“Medium tall.” Fanny hesitated. “I guess he’s not Jewish.”
Sarah lifted her eyebrows. “That’s like guessing Leo Levi isn’t Irish.”
§
Sarah and Bianca had twelve posters to put in the store windows that faced Halsted. Charley and Subbie were doing two blocks along Polk Street. Isabelle had ended up making one poster that she displayed in her own window. Dominic hadn’t finished his yet. So far, she and Bianca had mounted their posters on the windows of Clara the Seamstress, Wolfie’s Men’s Shoes, Bertha Black’s Lightly Used Women’s Wear, and Schnikle’s Pharmacy. Now they each were convinced it was the other’s turn to go into Lucky’s Saloon.
Sarah eyed the dim interior. “I think we should skip saloons.”
“There are probably a lot of fathers in there who would take their kids to the opening if they knew about it.” Bianca pulled open the heavy saloon door and poked her head inside. All she could see in the dim light was the bartender behind a long counter, and another man slumped on one of the stools, either asleep or drunk.
“Looking for your pa, kid?” the bartender asked in a gravelly voice. He was wild-haired, and wore green-tinted glasses.
“Could I please put this poster in your window?”
“What’s it say?”
“It’s about the children’s playground that’s opening May first.”
“Talk so’s I kin ’ear ya, kid.”
Bianca swallowed hard. “It’s about the children’s playground that’s opening May first.”
He waved a hand. “Put it up. Put two up.”
“Thanks.” Bianca put up a poster, then backed out of the saloon quickly.
“Well?”
“The bartender said yes. He asked me if I was looking for my pa.” Bianca shrugged. “I guess he recognized me.”
The next store window belonged to the Skala Bros. funeral parlor.
“Your turn,” Bianca said, grinning.
The window was very clean and Sarah could see nothing inside the parlor but a row of straight-backed chairs and a hat stand with one black hat hanging on it.
“No one in there’s going to a playground opening,” she said. “They’re all dead.”
Bianca giggled. “Except the undertaker.”
§
Sarah jumped out of bed and looked through the window at the thin strip of blue sky visible above the rooftops. “It’s a nice day!” she cried triumphantly.
At breakfast she talked to Sammy about how lucky they were to have a playground in their neighborhood. “You’ll be pestering us to take you there every day!”
Fanny cut in impatiently. “You act as if a playground opening is the best thing that can happen in the whole world.”
Rifke leaned over to button Sammy’s shirt. “It’s a mitzvah. Now mothers have a safe place to leave their children.”
“Bianca told me about a mother who has to tie her little girl to the leg of a bed so she won’t get hurt when she leaves her alone to go to work!”
“Too bad there wasn’t a playground for Goosie while Mrs. Mahoney was on the roof doing laundry,” Rifke said.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Sarah jumped up from the table and ran through the curtains, catching the heel of her shoe on the drooping hem, tearing it even more. If only she had her own room that she could go into and close the door! She flopped on her bed and pressed her hand over her heart. It is true that your heart’s on your left side, she thought. That’s where it hurts the most. Her mother’s comment was an arrow that lodged right in that spot.
Her father was talking.
“Rifke, leave her. At her age, she needs some privacy. That lace curtain was like putting up glass. We might as well have put up nothing.”
§
Sarah didn’t know how long she’d been in the cubicle when her father walked in. Wordlessly, he took her hand and drew her forcibly into the living room. Fanny was rearranging the spools and needles in her mother’s sewing basket, and Sammy was building a tower of blocks. Neither looked at her. Her mother was skimming a layer of fat off a pot of chicken soup and didn’t raise her head. The quiet was awful.
Jacob motioned Fanny to stand up, took her hand, and joined it with Sarah’s. “Let’s enjoy this special day by making a new start.”
Fanny pulled her hand away and ran over to Rifke. “Now we’ll have to pick new curtain fabric, Mama.” She smiled brightly at Sarah. “Sarah can help if she wants.”
“It’s time to go,” Rifke said. “Sammy, get your shoes on.”
§
Sarah couldn’t remember when they had last gone as a family to a special event. Her mother, long hair held in place with inlaid pearl combs, and wearing a fitted black dress that showed off her slim figure, walked confidently beside her husband, worldly and dignified in his dark suit, blue print tie, and snow white shirt. He was trying to hold a skipping Sammy by the hand. Fanny, in a light green dress, hair swept back and caught in a matching ribbon, held Sammy’s other hand. Sarah wore a dark rose dress with lace around the neckline. It had looked wonderful on Fanny but hung like a flour sack on her. She walked behind, staring at the four backs, black, dark blue, light green, and bouncing brown.
Sarah recalled that the young Laura Jane Addams had deliberately walked behind her father when they went to town so people wouldn’t associate the important Mr. Addams with such an ugly girl. Not me, Sarah thought. She detached Fanny’s hand from Sammy’s. “It’s my turn to walk with Sammy.”
“Where is that girl going?” Rifke asked, as Fanny, without a word, started to run ahead of them.
“I hear music!” Sammy started to gallop like a pony.
“I’ll watch him,” Sarah called.
At the first sight of the playground, Sammy stopped dead and took her hand.
“What’s the matter?”
“So many people.”
A welcome sign was attached to a pole with flying blue and gold streamers at the playground’s entrance. Sarah read it to Sammy.
The air is warm, the skies are clear.
Birds and blossoms all are here.
Come old and young with spirits gay,
To welcome the happy month of May.
She laughed and swung Sammy’s hand.
Children poured into the playground as if the Pied Piper had piped them all to this magical spot. Men slapped one another on the back in greeting; women, babies in their arms or balanced on their hips, smiled and gave each other one-armed hugs. Girls in pastel holiday dresses danced around the maypole holding brightly colored ribbons, the older ones skipping, the younger ones, shy or giggling, running to catch up. Young members of the newly organized Hull House band played a Sousa march, the short, pear-shaped conductor in official black, beating out the rhythm, a beatific smile on his rotund face.
Laughter, chatter, and shouts, all manner of names called and languages spoken—Italian, Greek, Russian, German, Yiddish, Swedish, Polish, Mexican, occasionally English, combined in a cheerful cacophony. No gathering of squawking crows ever made such a din.
“Can I climb that?” Sammy pulled Sarah toward the monkey bars where boys numerous as flies were climbing, yelling, and waving when they reached the top. Two small girls with bobbing curls dared climb to the second bar, handicapped by their party skirts and boys who teased that they could see their underpants.
“Help me, Sarah,” Sammy begged, losing his balance as he tried to place his foot on the first bar.
Sarah put her hands around his waist and held him as he struggled for a foothold. When he had climbed to the second bar he yelled to his approaching mother and father, “Look at me!”
“Will you watch Sammy now?” she asked. “I want to look for Bianca.”
As she threaded her way through the pulsing crowd, Sarah saw a group gathered at the playground entrance. She drew nearer. Jane Addams was standing on a small platform, smiling. Faces of babies, smooth pink and honey tan, were scattered like flowers among the roughened, worn faces of the adults. Sarah edged close enough to see Miss Addams bend to accept a bouquet of daisies from a small girl in a starched white dress.
She felt cool hands across her eyes. “Bianca!” she cried.
Bianca was flushed and smiling. “I talked to Miss Addams. She said that the posters helped make the opening a success. You could talk to her too. Just go up and introduce yourself.”
“I’d faint.”
“She’s so…easy.” Bianca shrugged. “Then let’s take a turn at the maypole. Or climb the monkey bars.”
“There’s no one on those monkey bars but boys. And they don’t wear skirts.”
Bianca frowned. “Skirts.”
“I saw girl’s gym outfits advertised in the newspaper. They have bloomers.”
“Bloomers? Like on a bathing suit?”
“Yes.” Sarah grinned. “You would look…gor—geous!”
“And you would look…” Bianca paused. “I’d rather not say.”
“Let’s get some of those chocolate cookies before they’re gone.”
They were waiting their turn at the refreshment table when Bianca burst out, “There’s Fanny. Is that her boyfriend with her?”
Sarah was electrified. “Where?”
“I just caught a glimpse. I don’t see them anymore.”
“They can’t have disappeared!”
“They probably left. They were near the gate.”
“I’ve never seen her boyfriend. What does he look like?”
“Well.” Bianca’s smile turned mischievous. “Very Irish.”
§
“I’m glad we met your friend Bianca,” Jacob said as they all, with the exception of Fanny, walked home from the playground. “She has a very bright face.”
“She is very bright.”
Rifke paused and looked back at the crowds. “I can’t imagine where Fanny is.”
“She’s seventeen, Rifke,” Jacob said. “Don’t worry about her.”
“I saw her with a boy,” Sammy said. “She was laughing.”
“When? Why didn’t you tell me?” Rifke demanded.
“He’s big.”
“I’m worried, Jacob.”
“So what else is new?” Jacob took her arm. “I’m glad we met Sarah’s friend.”
Rifke said nothing.
“The grand opening was a big success, Sarah,” her father said. “I’m sure the posters helped.”
§
Sarah felt as if the house were holding its breath until Fanny returned. Even Sammy wasn’t chattering.
“I’m going to take a little nap,” Jacob said. “Come, Rifkela. You look tired.”
“You think I can sleep?”
Jacob sighed. “How about you, boychick?”
“I’m waiting for Fanny,” Sammy said.
Sarah went to the cubicle and flopped on her bed to read. She was near the end of a novel about a fifteen-year-old orphan girl traveling west in a wagon train.
She woke to find her book on the floor and Fanny undressing. She lay perfectly still and watched her. Fanny’s plumpness had melted away until she was just the right size. Her legs had lengthened and her waist was small, but she still had curves in all the right places.
“When did you get home? Mama was having fits.”
“When I came home she didn’t know whether to kiss me or yell at me.”
“Which did she do?”
“Neither. She just asked me a million questions in that quiet, scary voice I hate.”
“Well, where were you?”
Fanny kicked off her shoes and looked at Sarah from behind a curtain of hair. She lowered her voice. “Do you want to know where I told Mama I was, or where I really was?”
“You lied to her?”
Fanny blew out her breath in disgust. “Honestly, Sarah. I can’t understand why I tell you anything!”
Sarah knew enough to stay quiet.
Fanny pulled on an old blouse and skirt. If she hands those down to me, Sarah thought, I’m not going to take them.
“Telling Mama that I was at Hull House watching a play rehearsal didn’t hurt her one bit. Actually, it made her feel better.”
“So what was the truth?”
Fanny fastened her eyes on Sarah’s. “I can trust you?”
“I haven’t told Mama and Papa one single thing you told me about…you know who.”
Fanny drew the curtain aside to check if the bedroom door was still closed. “Better whisper.”
Sarah left her bed to sit close to Fanny. She could feel the excitement vibrating through Fanny’s body.
“Well.” Fanny’s expression, closed as a shut door until then, opened wide with pleasure. “There’s a half-empty storage room in back of a shoe store where Sean used to work. The owner’s pretty careless and never locks the door.”
“You were in a room with a lot of shoes?”
Fanny nodded, a faint flush rising in her cheeks. “There was an old couch we could sit on. And Sean brought some cookies. So…we talked a lot. And ate cookies.”
“That doesn’t sound very romantic.”
Fanny smiled dreamily. “Just being with Sean is romantic. Someday you’ll understand.”
Sarah was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She changed the subject. “I’m writing about Jane Addams for a history paper. Guess how old she is.”
Fanny stood up and looked in the small mirror that stood on their dresser. She scrutinized her face and ran her fingers over her mouth. “I don’t know why my lips get so chapped. It’s not as if it’s winter.”
“She’s just thirty-three. And she’s already done so much. Without her there would be no art lessons with Miss Benedict.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
“Yes. They’re one of the best parts of my life.”
Fanny began filing her nails.
Sarah watched her with growing irritation. “What do you care about besides your looks and clothes and Sean?”
“There you go, sounding snobby again.”
“Jane Addams is fighting to get women the right to vote. There’s nothing snobby about that.”
Fanny approved the filed nail, and went on to the next. “Mama was mad when Papa could vote for mayor and she couldn’t. She thinks she’s smarter than Papa.”
“She isn’t, though. She had a tutor in Russia to teach her to read and write and do math. Papa had to teach himself.”
“Mama beats Papa at chess all the time,” said Fanny.
“Papa’s smart in a different way. In a deeper way.”
Fanny brushed the nail filings off her skirt. “Mama’s smart enough to make Papa take care of Sammy while she works in the store on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She likes waiting on customers.”
“She doesn’t have to be smart to do that. Papa would much rather take care of Sammy than slice liver!”
“The customers like Mama. Especially the men. She always looks so beautiful.”
“Have you ever learned about Mary Cassatt in school?”
“Why are you asking about her? I was talking about Mama.”
“There’s nothing new to say about Mama.”
“So I suppose this Mary person is famous and everybody in the world knows who she is but me.”
“She didn’t become famous until she went to live in France.”
Fanny stretched and yawned. “Did she find a romantic Frenchman to marry?”
Sarah propped her pillow under her head. “I think if a woman wants to be a great artist, she’d better not get married.”
Fanny’s eyebrows arched. “Oh? So you’re not going to get married?”
“Bianca and I want to go to Paris to study. So…we might not get married.”
Fanny laughed. “Better start saving your pennies.”