What the Moon Said Read online

  Last of all, on their way out of the apartment, Pa reached up and plucked free the string of tiny bells that hung above the door and tinkled every time the door opened or closed. They jingled as he dropped them into his jacket pocket.

  Pa would soon be hanging the bells above the door of the farmhouse. Fairies loved the sound of bells, and having them ringing on the threshold of the house—right where the fairies lived—would make them happy.

  Happy fairies were a good thing. Unhappy fairies were not, and they could cause bad things to happen to the humans who were their neighbors. Sometimes little things like skinned knees and lost gloves. But bigger things, too, like fires and sickness. Ma would never spend a night in a house without bells above the door and her cross standing guard within.

  “Time to go,” Pa said. He touched Julia’s cheek. “We will miss you.”

  Julia sniffled.

  Always impatient with tears, Ma said, “Nu—I thought you wanted to stay!”

  Julia half laughed, half sobbed. “I did. I do. But I’ll miss you all terribly.” She hugged Violet. Then she hugged Esther. “Don’t forget to write,” she said into Esther’s ear.

  Esther felt something being pressed into her hand. A coin.

  Julia curled Esther’s fingers over it. “For postage,” she whispered. Esther hugged Julia hard, her throat too tight to speak.

  Howard had borrowed his brother’s old Buick to drive them to the farm. Pa sat up front with him, and Walter sat between them. The backseat was more crowded because at the last minute Kate decided to ride along.

  “I want to see the farm,” she said. “And this way I can be company for Howard on the ride home.” So Ma, Kate, Violet, and Esther all squeezed in together.

  Usually Esther thought any automobile ride was a treat. But this one was too crowded right from the start. On top of that, Kate and Ma talked on and on about babies. Kate was going to have her first baby at the end of summer. She had lots of questions. Ma knew all the answers. She knew what to feed babies, how to dress them, what to do when they cried. Kate seemed fascinated. But Esther and Violet rolled their eyes at each other.

  Esther looked out the window. She watched the city buildings slip away behind them. She saw more and more open fields and trees ahead. But they had a very long way to go. Over one hundred miles!

  They stopped once at a roadside picnic area. They ate some of the sandwiches Kate had made and washed them down with cold water. Then Ma made Esther and Violet and Walter use the outhouse. It wasn’t a real bathroom, just a tiny wooden shack. And it didn’t have a real toilet that flushed. It just had a hole cut into a wooden bench.

  Esther hated it because it smelled and there were spiderwebs in all the corners.

  She held her breath and hurried as fast as she could. Esther feared all bugs, but spiders most of all. She was glad when her family climbed back into the car. It might be crowded, but at least it didn’t smell, and there were no spiders to worry about.

  After a while, Violet’s eyelids drooped. Esther closed her eyes, too, but not to sleep. She wanted to daydream about life on the farm. Her mind was like the screen at the movie theater, except it showed pictures in color, not just black and white. She saw rolling green fields, an apple orchard, a splashing brook. She saw a big red barn, a fat brown cow, two prancing gray horses, and dozens of chickens. She saw a snug white house with green shutters. And best of all, she saw a dog dozing on the porch steps. The dog looked just like Rin Tin Tin . . .

  “Here!” came Pa’s voice. “Here is where we turn. Our farm is just ahead.”

  Esther awakened with a start. She had fallen asleep after all! She sat up straight and blinked quickly as they bumped down a rutted dirt road. Everyone was leaning forward in their seats, straining to catch a glimpse of their new home. Esther leaned forward, too, to peer around Ma and look out the side window. But when she saw her mother’s face, she stared at Ma instead.

  Ma’s cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were bright. Her nose was so close to the glass, her breath made a foggy cloud on it. And the corners of her mouth were curved up expectantly. She looked as happy as when she’d been waltzing with Pa. Esther had been right. Ma was going to be different here. Everything was going to be different here!

  But as Esther watched, Ma’s mouth sagged. Her eyes closed. She drew back sharply from the window. A chill skipped up the back of Esther’s neck. What was wrong? She looked out where Ma had been looking. She saw bare black fields, an old faded-pink barn, and some crumbling sheds. Off to the right was another building. It was small and shabby, the color of ashes. Esther’s chest tightened. She squinted and craned her neck, but there was nothing else to see. That shabby gray building had to be their house.

  Disappointment swelled from her chest to her throat and stuck there. All of Ma’s hard-saved nest egg had gone for this? She had to be even more disappointed than Esther. Impulsively, Esther reached out to give Ma’s arm a loving squeeze. But just at that moment, Ma stiffened. She raised her chin and she set her mouth in such a grim line that Esther jerked her hand back.

  The car stopped near the barn and Pa jumped out. He pointed to the fields. “Only thirty acres,” he said, “but enough for a start.” He led them into the barn. He pointed out the wagon and buggy, the plow, and other tools. “All this is ours,” he said proudly.

  Best of all were the animals. The two big workhorses were brown, not gray. And the four cows were black with white spots, not brown as Esther had imagined. But she didn’t care. They were real. They let Esther pat them. One cow bobbed her head as if to say, “Howdy-do.” Both horses nickered gently. Esther’s disappointment in the house was forgotten. Horses! They owned horses! She couldn’t wait to ride them.

  “We have to name them,” she said excitedly.

  “Later,” Ma said. Then she turned and stalked out the door. After a stunned moment, everyone trotted after her.

  Ma marched right past the sheds. Pa pointed out the pigsty. He pointed out the henhouse. And he pointed out the icehouse where he would cool and separate the milk. But he didn’t stop again, because Ma was moving ever faster toward the house. He must have realized something was wrong. He walked faster, too. His long legs caught up with her just as she reached the front door. Pa took a key from his pocket, put it in the lock, and opened the door. Then they went quickly inside.

  Esther and Violet weren’t far behind and would have followed Ma and Pa into the house, but Kate called to them to wait. When she and Howard joined the girls on the porch a few moments later, Kate said, “Let’s give Ma and Pa a little time alone.” Holding on to Howard’s arm, she walked gingerly across the sagging porch, shaking her head. “Oh, Pa,” she sighed.

  Esther bit her lip. Things weren’t going at all the way she had imagined. Of course, the house might be much nicer inside than it was outside. It might. She crossed her fingers and tried to peek through a window. But it was so coated with dirt, she couldn’t see a thing. Meanwhile, Walter was running dizzily around the house, blowing a whistle he’d pulled from his pocket. Violet was staring at the empty fields with a bleak expression. And Howard was trying to cheer up Kate.

  “It’s not so bad,” he said heartily. “A little paint and a good cleaning and it’ll be real cozy.” But Esther could tell he didn’t mean it. He was smiling too hard. And Kate’s raised eyebrows said she didn’t believe Howard, either.

  Ma and Pa finally came out. Ma’s back was very straight. Her mouth was very tight. It was Pa who invited everyone in to see the new house. “After the first harvest I will fix it up,” he told them. “Until then, it will do.”

  Esther and Violet went through the house together. It didn’t take long. There were only three rooms downstairs—the kitchen, the parlor, and a bedroom for Ma and Pa. Upstairs there were two small rooms with sloping ceilings—one for the girls and one for Walter.

  “Where’s the bathroom, Pa?” Violet called d
own.

  “Out back,” he said. He added quickly over Violet’s shrieks, “Just until the first harvest. It will not be so bad. Be thankful it is spring.”

  Esther shivered at the thought of using an outhouse in winter. Then she imagined using it in summer and shivered even harder. There would be all kinds of horrible bugs!

  The toot of a horn announced the arrival of the truck with their furniture. Esther trudged down the stairs after Violet. Ma and Pa went out to greet the movers. But Esther stopped to look more closely at the kitchen. It didn’t look like any kitchen she’d ever seen.

  “Where’s the icebox?” she whispered to Kate. Surely it wasn’t outside, too!

  Kate sighed. “There doesn’t seem to be one.”

  Esther felt her mouth fall open. No icebox! “How will we keep our food cold?”

  “There’s a cellar.” Kate pointed to a small door in the middle of the floor.

  Esther’s “oh” was very soft. Things were getting worse and worse.

  “And I may as well tell you, while Ma and Pa are outside—there’s no electricity, either.” Kate rubbed between her eyes as if she had a headache.

  “That does it! We can’t stay here,” Violet objected. “Nobody lives like this anymore!” She stomped her foot indignantly.

  “Shush! Ma and Pa will hear,” Kate said with a worried glance at the door. “Look, I know it’s bad. It’s not what anyone expected, least of all Ma. But it was the only farm Pa could afford and he’s so excited about it . . .” She smiled encouragingly. “Give it a chance. Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Violet said sourly. “You don’t have to go outside to the bathroom. And you’ll still have—”

  “The radio!” Esther suddenly gasped. “Without electricity we can’t listen to the radio.”

  Kate groaned. Violet actually whimpered. Esther felt the last bits of hope drain out of her, like air from a dying balloon. This was not an adventure; it was a disaster. And there was no going back. Like it or not, this was their new home. Esther looked at the peeling walls, the water-stained ceilings, and the cracked linoleum floor. Ma would never become more like Mrs. Rubinstein in this horrible place! Never.

  A sob was crawling its way up her throat, but Esther wouldn’t let it out. They were here to stay. There had to be a way to make it good. Esther rubbed furiously at a grimy window with the cuff of her coat. She cleaned a big circle and looked out. In the distance she saw the bare black fields. They’d be green before long. And Howard was right about the house. Some scrubbing and paint would brighten it a lot. It might not be so awful then. In time, they might even get to like it.

  Esther closed her eyes tight. She imagined the house bright and snug and clean. Good smells wafting out of the kitchen. Pa working out in the fields. Ma waving to him from the porch. And Esther standing beside Ma, with her arm around Ma’s waist and Ma’s arm around her shoulders . . .

  Esther opened her eyes and blinked. For a moment she’d thought Ma had come up behind her. Then she realized it was her own reflection she was seeing in the glass. It was her uplifted chin. It was her squared shoulders. Things hadn’t turned out the way she’d expected. But that didn’t mean Esther was going to give up. It might take a little longer here to make Ma love Esther enough to hug her like Mrs. Rubinstein hugged Shirley. But Esther would work and wish harder than ever to make it happen.

  4 A Friend

  AFTER AN EARLY SUPPER OF COLD sandwiches, Howard and Kate left for home. It would be late when they reached Chicago again. Esther stood on the porch with the rest of the family and waved good-bye. As the car drove away, she tried not to feel frightened. They were really on their own now. There was no way to go back. Then Pa hammered the string of fairy bells above the door, and Esther felt better.

  “Church tomorrow,” Ma said. “Everyone inside for baths.”

  Esther looked at her in surprise. “But we don’t have a bathroom—or a bathtub.”

  “Yes, we do.” Ma disappeared into the small enclosed porch that connected to the kitchen. It was like a pantry and storage closet combined. When Ma came back, she had the gray metal tub she’d stacked dishes in that morning.

  Walter giggled. “That’s for laundry.”

  “And for baths,” Ma said firmly. Then she asked Pa to pound some nails into the walls. In a few minutes she had a clothesline strung across the middle of the kitchen. She hung a sheet over the line so it made a kind of wall. “Nu,” she said to Esther. “Here is your bathroom. Now, who will be first?”

  Walter was first. Esther was second. Fascinated, she watched Ma fill the tub with warm water from the big tank on the side of the stove. Ma called it a reservoir, and she dipped into it with the biggest dipper Esther had ever seen. When the tub was ready, Esther stepped in and sat down. She couldn’t quite straighten her legs. The tub was too short. But it was big enough to wash in. Ma handed Esther the bar of Ivory soap she kept just for Saturday night baths. Then she opened the oven door so hot air puffed out around Esther, and she felt all warm and cozy.

  “Hurry,” Ma reminded her from the sink, where she was washing dishes.

  Esther ran the soapy washrag up and down her arms and legs. But all the while she was looking around the kitchen. It was very different from their kitchen in Chicago. The stove was much bigger and burned wood instead of coal, so there was a basket full of sticks in the corner. And the sink didn’t have hot and cold water faucets. It had a pump. Ma had to work the pump handle up and down before water splashed out. Then she had to watch the bucket under the sink so it didn’t overflow, because there was no drainpipe to carry the water away. When the bucket was full, it had to be emptied outside.

  “We’re like pioneers,” Esther said suddenly, “aren’t we, Ma?” It was a surprising thought, but also an exciting one. Pioneers had real adventures all the time. Their life was hard, but they were brave and hardworking. They were—what was the word her teacher used sometimes? Self-reliant, that was it. Pioneers were self-reliant. They didn’t need other people. They didn’t need electricity or even bathrooms. They built homes and farms where before there had been nothing at all.

  Pioneers could do anything, Esther guessed. Pioneers could easily make this farm prosper, and make the farmhouse a cozy and cheerful place. And a pioneer girl, even one who was small for her age, could work very hard. She could be so hardworking and helpful, her mother couldn’t help but love her as much as her brother and sisters.

  Ma muttered something about pioneers that Esther couldn’t quite hear. Then she raised her voice and said, “Are you finished yet? Violet is waiting.” Esther sighed and reached for the towel. It was clear Ma was still a long way from being happy. When she spoke to Pa, her voice was stiff and chilly. Esther tried not to think about it.

  Instead, she pretended she was a pioneer girl. As she dried herself off and tugged her nightgown over her head, she pretended she heard wolves howling in the distance. Or maybe it was Indians . . . !

  That night, Esther went to bed by the light of a kerosene lamp in her new room in her new house. She felt odd, almost as if she really had turned into a pioneer girl. She was glad to climb into her same old bed with Violet just like always. And she was very glad to have Margaret to hug to her cheek when she closed her eyes.

  • • •

  The next morning, as she sat down to breakfast, Violet grumbled, “My shoes are too small. I’ll get blisters walking all the way to town.”

  “Pa said it’s not far,” Esther said quickly. Violet glared at her, but Esther didn’t care. She was eager to see town, especially the school. She didn’t want Violet’s possible blisters to delay the trip.

  “We will not walk,” Ma said. “We will take the buggy.”

  Esther was so excited by this unexpected announcement that she dropped her bread, jam-side down, on the floor. Ma shook her head at such clumsiness, and Esther’s cheeks burn
ed. But she’d never ridden in a buggy before! She threw the bread in the pail of food scraps that would go to the pigs. Then she wiped up the floor with a damp rag from under the sink. By the time she came back to the table, Ma had another slice of bread and jam waiting for her. Esther ate as fast as she could, impatient for the promised buggy ride.

  “Change into your best dresses,” Ma instructed Esther and Violet. She was already wearing her best dress—the lilac one with white flowers. She smelled faintly of lilacs, too. That meant she was wearing the dusting powder Julia had given her for Christmas. She used it only on special occasions.

  “Mmmm. You smell good,” Esther said. She watched Ma and hoped for a smile.

  But Ma was fixing Walter’s bow tie and didn’t look up. “If you are finished eating, hurry and get ready,” she said.

  Esther bit her lip, but she supposed she mustn’t expect Ma to change overnight. There was the buggy ride to enjoy, though.

  She dashed upstairs. “Imagine riding a buggy to church!” she said. Even Violet admitted it would be fun. But Esther corrected her. “It will be an adventure—a buggy ride to a new church in a new town. Wait until I tell Julia!”

  Pa came in the kitchen door just as the girls came running downstairs. They were wearing their best dresses and had matching ribbons in their hair. Pa grinned and made a deep bow. “Guten Morgen, frauleins,” he said. In German that meant “good morning, young ladies,” so Pa was saying they looked grown up. Esther stood extra tall and grinned.

  Then Pa told Ma, “The buggy is waiting.” He offered her his arm.

  Ma looked at him for a long moment and Esther held her breath. Was Ma still angry? Was she going to go on and on being angry the whole time they lived on the farm? But then Ma took Pa’s arm and gave him a small smile. “We are ready,” she said. Esther breathed again. It was all right.