from under his arm. "Haven't you got any boy toys?"
"Sure," he said, bristling up. "I got a fire engine."
"Well, that's good," I said. "That's real good. But you know what? I got something better than that. I got a Jack Armstrong whistle ring."
His eyes opened wide. "No foolin'?"
I went over to my bureau and pulled my cigar box full of treasures out of the top drawer. I slipped the ring onto my finger and blew. A shrill whistle sounded. I had sent away for it a few years ago for a couple of Wheaties boxtops. Jack Armstrong was my hero back then. I put the ring into Johnny's hand.
"You want it?" I asked.
"No foolin'?" he repeated.
"No foolin'."
"Wowwee! Sure." He sprang from the bed and was about to charge out of the room.
"Hold on ... hold on there just a minute," I said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back. "There's a few conditions, you know."
He turned his big blue eyes slowly up to mine, fearful, I guess, that I wasn't really gonna give it to him.
I smiled. "If you're gonna wear a ring like that," I said, "you gotta live up to it. You gotta promise to be an all-American boy, like Jackâbrave and honest and strong."
"I promise," he said, eyes shining.
"And no more sissy talk."
"You bet."
"Okay," I said, handing him back the doll. "Now go give this to your sister."
"You bet," he shouted again. "Hey Ma, look what Danny gave me!"
I looked up to see Maggie standing in the doorway as he charged by. She smiled.
"Thanks," she said. It was the first word either of us had spoken to each other since last night.
I shrugged. "Just didn't want him growing up to be no sissy, that's all," I said. I didn't tell her what I'd really been thinking. Maybe little Johnny wasn't half wrong. Why should he want to be a man when
all the men he saw were useless? The way things were going, men would probably be extinct, like dinosaurs, by the time we grew up.
Maggie came over and bent to look into my treasure box. She picked out a small rubber stamp.
"A Tom Mix branding iron," she said, laughing and holding it up. "I wanted one of these so bad, but Ma wouldn't let us buy the Ralston unless we promised to eat it all." She made a face.
"Yeah," I told her. "Ma made me eat it, tooâtwo whole boxes!" I stuck my tongue out and shivered at the memory.
We both laughed.
Maggie bent and put the stamp back into the box, then straightened up slowly and looked around the room. "Remember how we used to play Wild Bill Hickok in here with our rubber-band guns?"
"Sure I do, you low-down sidewinder you."
Maggie laughed again, then her smile faded. She ran her hand along the iron bed rail. "Seems like a long time ago," she said.
I looked at her and knew what she was thinking.
"I'm sorry," I said, "about your pa."
She turned toward me, but her eyes seemed to look beyond me, at something sad and faraway. "Yeah," she said softly.
TWENTY-ONE
Tuesday, November 8,1932
Over two weeks have gone by with no further word from Pa.
"He could send a postcard at least," I told Mama at breakfast. "It'd only cost a penny."
"A penny's a penny," said Mama. "If you haven't got one, ya can no more buy a postcard than a T-bone steak."
I looked down at my oatmeal. I didn't like to think of Pa wandering around without a penny in his pocket.
"C'mon now," said Mama gently. "Eat yer breakfast. Sure an' we'll be hearin' any day now."
"Aren't you gonna eat?" I asked. Mama was feeding Maureen from a bowl of oatmeal, but there was nothing in front of her place but a cup of tea.
"I haven't much of an appetite this mornin'."
"Nor yesterday? Nor the day before?" I looked at her closely. She seemed paler than usual, and there
were dark circles under her eyes. "Are you feelin' all right, Ma?"
She laughed nervously. "Of course I am."
A vague fear crept into my belly, but it was too scary to think about. Not now. Not with Pa gone. "Are you sure?"
"Sure an' I'm sure. Just got me a little touch of the flu is all. Mrs. Mahoney had it last week, if you
"Sure," he said, bristling up. "I got a fire engine."
"Well, that's good," I said. "That's real good. But you know what? I got something better than that. I got a Jack Armstrong whistle ring."
His eyes opened wide. "No foolin'?"
I went over to my bureau and pulled my cigar box full of treasures out of the top drawer. I slipped the ring onto my finger and blew. A shrill whistle sounded. I had sent away for it a few years ago for a couple of Wheaties boxtops. Jack Armstrong was my hero back then. I put the ring into Johnny's hand.
"You want it?" I asked.
"No foolin'?" he repeated.
"No foolin'."
"Wowwee! Sure." He sprang from the bed and was about to charge out of the room.
"Hold on ... hold on there just a minute," I said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back. "There's a few conditions, you know."
He turned his big blue eyes slowly up to mine, fearful, I guess, that I wasn't really gonna give it to him.
I smiled. "If you're gonna wear a ring like that," I said, "you gotta live up to it. You gotta promise to be an all-American boy, like Jackâbrave and honest and strong."
"I promise," he said, eyes shining.
"And no more sissy talk."
"You bet."
"Okay," I said, handing him back the doll. "Now go give this to your sister."
"You bet," he shouted again. "Hey Ma, look what Danny gave me!"
I looked up to see Maggie standing in the doorway as he charged by. She smiled.
"Thanks," she said. It was the first word either of us had spoken to each other since last night.
I shrugged. "Just didn't want him growing up to be no sissy, that's all," I said. I didn't tell her what I'd really been thinking. Maybe little Johnny wasn't half wrong. Why should he want to be a man when
all the men he saw were useless? The way things were going, men would probably be extinct, like dinosaurs, by the time we grew up.
Maggie came over and bent to look into my treasure box. She picked out a small rubber stamp.
"A Tom Mix branding iron," she said, laughing and holding it up. "I wanted one of these so bad, but Ma wouldn't let us buy the Ralston unless we promised to eat it all." She made a face.
"Yeah," I told her. "Ma made me eat it, tooâtwo whole boxes!" I stuck my tongue out and shivered at the memory.
We both laughed.
Maggie bent and put the stamp back into the box, then straightened up slowly and looked around the room. "Remember how we used to play Wild Bill Hickok in here with our rubber-band guns?"
"Sure I do, you low-down sidewinder you."
Maggie laughed again, then her smile faded. She ran her hand along the iron bed rail. "Seems like a long time ago," she said.
I looked at her and knew what she was thinking.
"I'm sorry," I said, "about your pa."
She turned toward me, but her eyes seemed to look beyond me, at something sad and faraway. "Yeah," she said softly.
TWENTY-ONE
Tuesday, November 8,1932
Over two weeks have gone by with no further word from Pa.
"He could send a postcard at least," I told Mama at breakfast. "It'd only cost a penny."
"A penny's a penny," said Mama. "If you haven't got one, ya can no more buy a postcard than a T-bone steak."
I looked down at my oatmeal. I didn't like to think of Pa wandering around without a penny in his pocket.
"C'mon now," said Mama gently. "Eat yer breakfast. Sure an' we'll be hearin' any day now."
"Aren't you gonna eat?" I asked. Mama was feeding Maureen from a bowl of oatmeal, but there was nothing in front of her place but a cup of tea.
"I haven't much of an appetite this mornin'."
"Nor yesterday? Nor the day before?" I looked at her closely. She seemed paler than usual, and there
were dark circles under her eyes. "Are you feelin' all right, Ma?"
She laughed nervously. "Of course I am."
A vague fear crept into my belly, but it was too scary to think about. Not now. Not with Pa gone. "Are you sure?"
"Sure an' I'm sure. Just got me a little touch of the flu is all. Mrs. Mahoney had it last week, if you
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