Chapter Sixteen
This was going to be a very important day, which was why Alice was trying to find a dress in her closet she really liked, even if it wasn’t a new one. She’d stuffed the light blue one with no waist in the back of her closet, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice it had disappeared. Instead, Alice found a dark blue dress that looked more like a pinafore or a uniform. At least it wasn’t frilly or covered with ribbons. She certainly didn’t want to go dressed like a Kewpie doll. This one was just the right thing to wear to an awards presentation for the young people who had done well in the CAPS that year. Jimmy would be there, of course. He deserved to get an award. Alice had heard that instead of a medal, he would probably get a war bond. But what could you expect? A medal was almost the size of a bullet, and the metal from a bullet could save a pilot’s life.
Alice took another look out both windows—her own and Gramp’s—and wrote the sighting for the day on the first page of her new logbook. “015 05: P48 heading NNE, approx. 200 MPH, @ altitude 15,000 ft.”
For some reason, Mr. Parker had asked her to hand in the old one for him to look at.
The awards ceremony was going to take place, of all things, in the auditorium of Miss Whitaker’s School for Girls. Alice hoped nobody she knew from school would be there. Why should they be? After all, it was a grown-up awards ceremony—not for little girls. Alice smiled to herself. That didn’t include her, of course. She looked at the invitation with the gold and blue border and the CAP insignia and shivered with excitement. Her best friend was a hero! She only dimly remembered how upset she was that they hadn’t allowed her to join the CAPs. All that didn’t matter now. Jimmy had proven himself brave, and he stood for all CAP flyers from Rhode Island, and the spotters as well!
Mother, Alice, and Gramp entered the auditorium and, at Alice’s insistence, took seats near the front. Alice wondered if Mother had come late on purpose in order to avoid hearing that awful Mrs. Eakley sing the national anthem. Mrs. Eakley was standing on stage with her tight little snood and a mangy bit of dead fox around her neck, paws hanging down with the claws still in them. They all rose for the anthem, and Alice lost sight of the paws. Alice felt sorry for her—until she began to sing. You could see people wince as she missed the high note: “Land of the freeee!”
Alice thought of a monkey. Mother’s dark eyes rolled up to the ceiling, and she pinched her lips closed to avoid a smile. Alice looked up at her, but she turned away. She’s afraid I’ll make her laugh, thought Alice. Gramp didn’t notice and was nodding to Mr. Chase several rows behind.
There was Jimmy up on stage, right in front, with his hair brushed back to make every curl disappear, and around him were his buddies seated in three rows of chairs on the right side of the stage. Some of them had suits on with neckties hanging like puppy tails or tucked sloppily in their pants. It was the CAP’s fault for not giving them uniforms.
On the left side of the stage sat one man in uniform she didn’t recognize, probably representing the Office of Civil Defense, and next to him the officer in charge of the Civilian Air Patrol with a CAP arm band. The mayor stood in the middle in front of the flag, and next to him she was surprised to see Mr. Parker, of all people, in charge of the Ground Observer Corps—her very own spotter division. And there was Mr. Hopkins—who had no business being there at all because he was only an air-raid warden—sitting up there on stage.
The mayor was the first to step to the podium and take the mic. He could barely reach it, Alice noticed, but it didn’t matter because he immediately turned the mic over to the OCD man in uniform. The OCD man began a long speech about how great it was to have civilian pilots protecting and defending the coast and how they’d sighted Nazi subs and caught spies entering the country. He finally stepped away and let Jimmy’s boss, who was in charge of CAP, have his turn. He talked about the dangers these pilots faced, how many of them had never returned, and how others had faced death ditching into the cold, gray waters of the Atlantic. Alice glanced back a few rows to see Mrs. Brownell biting her lip and staring up at the stage at Jimmy. Beside her, Mr. Brownell, red faced, was trying not to look as proud as a peacock. Just then, the mayor stepped forward and handed a large envelope to Jimmy’s boss, who bowed slightly, turned to the podium, and announced:
“I would like to take this occasion to honor one of our brave pilots who survived the winter ocean and a perilous ditching by putting into practice the survival measures he had been taught in his CAP training. After a stay in the hospital, instead of going home for a little relaxation, he went straight back to the CAP …” Much, much too soon, thought Alice. “… and resumed serving his country by reporting enemy subs, searching for lost planes, and performing all of his former duties. It is with pride that I ask Mr. James Brownell to step up to the podium and accept this war bond from the CAP and the OCD.”
“I’ll bet that’s the first time he’s ever been called Mr. James Brownell,” Alice whispered to Gramp. She began bouncing with excitement in her seat as Jimmy stepped forward, trying to straighten a stray curl as he went. Mother put a hand on Alice’s arm to calm her down. Everybody clapped, and Alice heard loud yells from Bill and Moses in the back row. Jimmy shook the officer’s hand and waved his war bond at the audience, and especially at his mother. He went back to his seat, amid the applause, tapping some of the pilots on their shoulders with his war bond as he passed by them.
Then came Mr. Parker’s turn, and the auditorium settled down.
“As officer in charge of the Ground Observation Corps,” he began, “I am sure you citizens are all aware of the lengthy and lonely hours and the unwavering dedication of the members of the GOC—our spotters, as we call them—who, with their constant vigilance, are protecting us all from possible invasion by enemy planes here on this very coast. You may also be aware that shelters for the GOC are few and far between. So it is with …”
Alice’s mind began to wander as he droned on. She looked around and was surprised to see her whole class was seated on the left side of the auditorium, as well as several of the teachers, including Miss Prichard, the principal. She tried to catch Jimmy’s eye, but he was whispering to someone sitting on his left. She opened her purse, took out a hanky, and wiped her nose so she would keep alert, but she stopped in midwipe as she heard the next sentence:
“As an example, I would like to introduce you all to Miss Alice Calder, whom we have named Spotter of the Year. Alice, would you come forward, please?”
What? Alice’s mouth fell open. Gramp, grinning, tugged at her arm and helped her out of her seat. Mother was smiling with all her lovely teeth. Alice realized then that they had known all along!
It seemed like it took Alice hours to walk up that long aisle with all those eyes on her—her classmates, who usually avoided her, were wide-eyed with admiration. She even caught a smile and a nod from Miss Pritchard. Gladys, with her lopsided grin, stood on tiptoe and waved at her hard enough to break a wrist as Alice mounted the stairs to the stage.
But Mr. Parker was not finished. “I have received many logbooks from our spotters. Most of them are quite adequately annotated. With Miss Alice here, well, ahem, I have to admit I never gave her much encouragement. In fact, I told her she was too young. But I didn’t know how talented and determined she was. Miss Alice Calder, in this logbook of hers, ladies and gentlemen …” and here he waved the logbook he had asked her to hand in a few days before with its dog-eared pages and orange juice stains. “In this logbook of Alice’s are noted the type of airplane, the speed at which it was flying, as well as the altitude—approximate, of course—and the exact direction it was headed. No one in the history of the GOC—admittedly, not a very long history—has ever included so much detail on every single day—hmph, almost—since the first entry of the logbook. For her thoroughness and diligence, therefore, we award Alice the title of Spotter of the Year. I am pleased to—” He turned to find Alice looking elsewhere.
Alice snapped back to attention. She had been trying to catch Jimmy’s eye.
“I am pleased to reward you, Alice, with a fifty-dollar war bond and an arm band with your spotting location.” Alice was surprised to see 223 Owen Street stitched under the insignia. “And to include you officially as a member of the Ground Observer Corps under the regulations of the Office of Civil Defense.”
Alice shook Mr. Parker’s hand and was so excited that she made a little curtsy by mistake. She was met with a wave of applause as she descended the steps and floated back to her row.
Mother said as they left, “Why don’t you walk home the long way, Alice, and take a little fresh air after all this excitement.” Alice was more than happy to—a chance to think it all over by herself.
Once out on the sidewalk, Alice realized that all she’d been hoping for had come true. (Well, not all, thinking of the CAP, but almost all.) At least maybe now everybody wouldn’t think she was a kook. It wouldn’t be just Bagheera and Gramp who were proud of her. Mother too. And that was something. The glory wouldn’t last forever, she reasoned. She knew that, but it didn’t make her sad. Alice was almost never sad, because the world was such an interesting place. There was always something to learn about, to discover, and to fight for. And right now she was fighting on the home front, like everybody else in Providence, Rhode Island, so the boys would come home soon.
That’s funny, Alice thought as she approached the house. Someone from inside had opened the front door for Mother and Gramp, and the living room was ablaze with light. Who was in there? Before she could climb the steps, Jimmy, Bill, Moses, and Cameron bounced down to meet her. They made a kind of a basket—Jimmy and Bill joined hands on one side, Moses and Cameron on the other—and hoisted her up in the air. Before Alice could say anything, they carried her into the house like a princess—or more like a football hero.
“… jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow,” they were singing, along with everyone inside the house—Mr. and Mrs. Parker, Mrs. Brownell (without her hat), Mr. Horton (who didn’t want to be left out), and, of all things, most of her classmates who began showering her with red, white, and blue confetti. They let her down in front of the kitchen where Elsie appeared with a huge pan of her own fudge. In the corner, Gladys was holding up a sign she had made by herself out of a T-shirt. In big strokes of a red crayon, it read: “HOORAY FR THE SPOTTER OF THE YERE.”
Drinks were poured and fudge was passed around, but the lights had to be dimmed even for a party. Then, to her surprise, Jody Rickenbarker came up to her and pulled her over into the corner.
“Alice, do you think if I got some of those cards, I could learn to spot planes too? Sylvia and I were thinking … we’re getting tired of those artsy cards.”
“Sure, Jody. I can get some for you.”
“Swell! Then maybe the boys’ll pay attention to us like they do to you.”
Alice smirked as they turned away. “Once a dumbbell, always a dumbbell.”
Of course, the party was for Jimmy too, even though his friends had already given him parties. But he wouldn’t take any of the honors and was figuring out how to fasten Alice’s armband properly, while Bagheera was curled up on the top of the landing ready to pounce.
Most of the guests had wandered outside for a breath of fresh air. In the corner, a pile of 78 records on the Victrola played “Mairzey Doats,” “Ya Gotta Accentuate the Positive” (probably requested by Mother), and “Don’t Sit under the Apple Tree.” When that record came on, they all joined in, even the Brownells and the Parkers: “Don’t sit under the apple tree with anybody else but me till I come marching home.”
And Alice, who was looking around for an apple tree she could sit under with Jimmy, sang the loudest of them all.