Elizabeth Berg - Dream When Youre Feeling Blue

FOR MY FATHER, ARTHUR P. HOFF,

WHO TAUGHT ME THE MEANING OF

TRUE COURAGE

AND GOOD CHARACTER

APRIL 1943

I T WAS KITTYS TURN TO SLEEP with her head at the foot of the bed. She didnt mind; she preferred it, actually. She liked the mild disorientation that came from that position, and she liked the relative sense of privacyher sisters feet in her face, yes, but not their eyes, not their ears, nor the close, damp sounds of their breathing. And at the foot of the bed she was safe from Louise, who often yanked mercilessly at peoples hair in her sleep.

Tonight Kitty was last to bed, having been last in the bathroom. Everybody liked it when Kitty was last in the bathroom because, of the eight people living in the house, she always took the longest. Apart from the normal ablutions, she did things in there: affected poses she thought made her look even more like Rita Hayworthshe did look like Rita Hayworth, everyone said so. She filed her fingernails, she experimented with combining perfumes to make a new scent, she creamed her face, she used eyebrow pencil to make beauty marks above her lip. She also read magazines in the bathroom because there, no one read over her shoulder. Oh, somebody would bang on the door every time she was in there, somebody was always banging on the bathroom door, but a girl could get a lot done in a room with a locked door. Kitty could do more in five minutes in the bathroom than in thirty minutes anywhere else in the house, where everyone in the family felt it their righttheir obligation!to butt into everyone elses business.

When Kitty came out of the bathroom, she tiptoed into the bedroom, where it appeared her sisters were already asleepTish on her side with her knees drawn up tight, Louise with the covers flung off. Kitty crouched down by Louise and whispered her sisters name. Kitty wanted to talk; she wasnt ready to sleep yet. But Louise didnt budge.

Kitty moved to the bottom of the bed, slid beneath the covers, and sighed quietly. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking of Julian, of how tomorrow he would be leaving, off to fight in the Pacific with the Marines, and no one knew for how long. And Michael, Louises fianc, he would be leaving, too, leaving at the same time but going in the opposite direction, for he was in the Army and shipping out to Europe. And why were they not in the same branch of the service, these old friends? Because Julian liked the forest green of the Marine uniforms better than the olive drab of the Army or the blue of the Navy. Also because James Roosevelt, the presidents son, was in the Marines.

It seemed so odd to Kitty. So frightening and dangerous and even romantic; there was an element of romance to this war, but mostly it just felt so odd. As though the truth of all this hadnt quite caught up with her, nor would it for a while. No matter the graphic facts in FDRs Day of Infamy speech after the bombing of Pearl Harbor: the three thousand lives lost, the next days declaration of war on Japan, then Germanys declaration of war on the United States. Kittys facts were these: she was Kitty; he was Julian; every Saturday night they went downtown for dinner at Toffenettis and then to one of the movie palaces on State Street. Sometimes, after that, he would take her to the Empire Room at the Palmer House for a pink squirrel, but her parents didnt like for Kitty to stay out so late, or to drink. Now his leave after basic was up and he was shipping out, he was going over there. And both boys foolishly volunteering for the infantry!

Kitty rose up on her elbows and again whispered Louises name. A moment, and then she spoke out loud. Hey? Louise?

Nothing. Kitty fell back and rested her hands across her chest, one over the other, then quickly yanked them apart. It was like death, to lie that way; it was how people lay in coffins. She never slept that way, she always slept on her side. Why had she done that? Was it a premonition of some sort, a sign? What if it was a sign? Louise! she said, and now her sister mumbled back, Cripes, Kitty, will you go to sleep!

It was good to hear her sisters voice, even in anger. It soothed and anchored her. She breathed out, closed her eyes, and in a short while felt herself drifting toward sleep. She wanted to dream of Julian on the day she first met him: confident, careless, his blond hair mussed and hanging over one eye, his short-sleeved shirt revealing the disturbing curves of his muscles. She tried to will herself toward that.

P EOPLE WERE PACKED IN SO TIGHTLY at Union Station that Kitty had to hold on to her hat lest it be jostled off her head and trampled. Elbows poked her; suitcases banged into her legs and she feared mightily for her very last pair of silk stockings. The noise level was so high, Julian had to lean in toward Kitty and practically shout to be heard. Gonna write me every day? he asked, grinning, and she nodded that she would. Are you going to be careful for a change? she asked, and he told her not to worry. He looked so handsomethere was something about a man in uniformstanding there with his duffel bag over his shoulder, his hat rakishly positioned at the side of his head.

Earlier that morning, Kitty and Julian and Louise and Michael had taken a Green Hornet streetcar to the train station and then breakfasted together at Fred Harveys. Both men ate every bite of food on their plates, but the sisters could hardly swallow their coffee. Now it was time to say good-byeJulian was on the 8:11 to San Francisco; Michael would leave just a few minutes later, on his way to New York City.

Boooard! the conductor cried, then made his announcement again, more urgently. Okay, kid, Julian said. I guess this is it. He waved at Michael and Louise, who were holding hands and standing nearby, then kissed Kitty quickly. Take care of yourself. He spoke seriously, his voice thick, and for the first time she saw a glint of fear in his eyes. She stepped back from him and made herself smile brilliantly. She tossed her black hair and stuck out her chest. Already she knew how shed sign the first photo she sent of herself: Hi, Private.

Louise was holding on to Michael and crying her eyes out, though she and Kitty had agreed not to do that, under any circumstances. They had agreed to look as pretty as they could, to wear their best outfits, to be cheerful and smile and wave at the boys as they pulled out of the station. They had agreed that it was their patriotic duty to behave in this fashion, and they had vowed to help each other be strong. But now Louise sobbed as Michael pulled away from her and ran for his train, and finally Kitty pinched her to make her stop. Ow! Louise said and pinched her sister back.

Is this what you want him to remember? Kitty asked.

Louise wiped at her nose with her sodden hankie. I cant help it.

You can! Kitty told her angrily and then looked at Julians train, where she saw him hanging out a window and motioning for her to come over to him. He was packed in among so many other men, all those boys with all their caps, sticking their heads and their arms out of the windows, but she could have found Julian in the middle of ten thousand men. She ran over and grabbed his hand. Good-bye, Julian. Be careful. I mean it.