Sandra Dallas - Someplace to Call Home

Table of Contents

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

Text copyright 2019 Sandra Dallas

Cover illustration copyright 2019 Steve Adams

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews and articles.

All inquiries should be addressed to:

Sleeping Bear Press

2395 South Huron Parkway, Suite 200, Ann Arbor, MI 48104

www.sleepingbearpress.com

Sleeping Bear Press

Printed and bound in the United States.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Dallas, Sandra, author.

Title: Someplace to call home / written by Sandra Dallas.

Description: Ann Arbor, MI : Sleeping Bear Press, [2019] | Summary: In 1933, when twelve-year-old Hallie Turner and her brothers, Tom and Benny, take to the road seeking whatever work they can get, they find kindness in small-town Kansas.

Identifiers: LCCN 2019004065 | ISBN 9781585364145 (hardcover)

Subjects: LCSH: Dust Bowl Era, 1931-1939--Juvenile fiction. | Depressions--1929--Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Dust Bowl Era, 1931-1939--Fiction. | Depressions--1929--Fiction. | Brothers and sisters--Fiction. | Orphans--Fiction. | Poverty--Fiction.

Classification: LCC PZ7.D1644 So 2019 | DDC [Fic]--dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019004065

This is for Forrest Athearn and for his great-grandfather,

Forrest Dallas

SANDRA

Contents

T he battered old Model T Ford sputtered and stalled. With a sigh, sixteen-year-old Tom Turner guided it to the side of the dirt road. He slid out of the worn seat on the drivers side and stood next to the vehicle, stopping a moment as he heard a hissing sound. He shook his head. The transmissions bad, and it looks like we blew a tire, too.

Hallie Turner took a deep breath. As Mommy used to say, if its not one thing, its another. More bad luck.

Not so bad, Tom said. He pointed to a grove of trees. If we had to break down, at least we found a nice shady spot.

Hallie glanced around. She said to the little boy on the seat beside her, Look, Benny, theres a stream.

Benny brightened. I like water, he said. He slid over the seat, jumping out on the drivers side. He had been sitting between Hallie and Tom.

Careful, Benny, Hallie called. She watched her little brother run toward the water.

Dont worry. It looks like theres not but a trickle of water in it, Tom told her.

Thats good. You know how he is with water. He could drown in a tin cup.

Hallie opened the passenger door of the Tin Lizzie and got out. She looked around. It was indeed a pretty spotthe trees, the stream, and a patch of yellow dandelions nodding in the sun. She stretched and dug her bare toes into the dirt. She shook her dress, which was covered with dust that had blown in through the open window.

The car, too, was covered with grime. The whole world except for this little spot seemed to be dirty. When the dust had gotten too bad, Hallie had rolled up the car windows and stuffed rags where they didnt quite close. That didnt stop the dirt from blowing in. She had to wipe the inside of the car clean every night. I guess if the cars broke down, well be staying for a spell, she said. She grasped the handle of the door to close it and quickly removed her hand. She should have known better than to touch the metal. It was burning hot from the sun.

We dont have much choice. I can patch the tire again. Tom glanced at the tire that seemed to be more patches than tire. But well have to replace the transmission. How much money do we have left?

Four dollars and twelve cents. Hallie didnt have to look into the ragged coin purse. She knew to the penny how much was in it.

Not enough for the transmission. Ill have to find work.

Hallie laughed. Where are you going to do that? Weve tried everywhere. Not more than two days work in the field in the past two weeks. If we hadnt found those tomatoes last week, wed be eating grass.

She thought of the deserted house theyd stopped at with three perfectly good tomato plants loaded with fruit. She shook her head at the wonder of it. They guessed the farmer had been dusted out. Thats what folks said when the dust storms destroyed crops, forcing farmers to desert their homes. Somehow the tomato plants had thrived. They were all tired of tomatoes by now, but they were grateful for them nonetheless.

That was good luck, all right. Maybe our lucks changed.

I wouldnt call a busted transmission good luck, Hallie told her brother.

I guess youre right about that. Tom went back to the Ford. Id best unload this old Tin Lizzie. You look after Benny. Tom stood next to the open lid of the cars rumble seat. He began taking out boxes containing quilts and blankets, a tarp, a collection of pots and pans, and a few dishes. Where should I put these?

Hallie looked about. Then she pointed to a secluded spot hidden by trees. We dont want anyone seeing us from the road, she said. Of course, anybody driving by would notice the car. Maybe theyd think it was abandoned. The flivver was that old and dilapidated. Tom had had to remove the leather bench in the rumble seat to make room for their belongings, to Bennys disappointment. He had loved to ride in the back in the open air. Now Tom spread the tarp on the ground. Next, he removed two thin mattresses tied to the roof of the car and laid them on top of the tarp.

Hallie watched him, then turned back to Benny. The six-year-old was sitting beside the stream. Every now and then, he stuck his foot into the water, then pulled it back and laughed. Im wet, he said.

Hallie went to the creek and tickled his toes. She thought what a happy, good-natured boy he was.

I like water, Hallie, he said again.

Hallie scooped up a handful of water and sprinkled it on Bennys head. He giggled. That will cool you off, she said. She splashed water over her arms and legs, too. Despite the shade of the trees, she was hot. It seemed it was always hot in Kansas. In Oklahoma, too. She couldnt remember the last time it had rained.

I want my boat, Benny said. The boat was his favorite toy.

Hallie went to a box that Tom had set down. She rummaged through it until she found a battered wooden boat. Tom had carved it and painted it, too. The paint was mostly worn off now. You play with it while I help Tom, she told Benny.

She stretched to get the kinks out of her back. Hallie wasnt just hot. She was tired from riding for days down the dirt roads looking for work. Tom had stopped at farms, asking if anyone needed help. No one did. Crops were poor because of the drought. Farmworkers were plentiful. Many farmers couldnt pay for hired help even if they needed it. Those who could pay wanted grown men. Me and my sister can do the work of two men and be paid half as much, Tom would tell the farmers. The Turners still couldnt find employment.

A few of the farmers they had approached ran them off as if theyd been homeless dogs. Most were sympathetic, however. Id like to help, but I dont have the money to pay you. You come around next year. Maybe 1934 will be better, one farmer had told them.

His wife had come outside with a dishpan of water. She threw it on a flower bed, then looked them over. Why, honey, they aint nothing but kids, she told her husband. Wheres your folks at, kids?