school I talked to in the park one time. But she doesn’t talk to me at school. I know she doesn’t want people to say we’re girlfriend and boyfriend, but still, she could at least talk to me a little.”
“Women!” Jean-Paul said. He pushed another airplane piece toward Gustave. “You want to paint this silver?”
“Sure.” Gustave took the tailpiece. “My mother told your mother we heard from Nicole, right? I got a letter with part of it blacked out. It was something about someone being arrested. But she didn’t have any news about Marcel.”
“Yeah.” Jean-Paul had his head down and was concentrating on the propeller. “I don’t think we’re likely to get any news about him, you know,” he muttered after a while.
“We might. Nicole’s father is in the Resistance, and he’s still trying to get information.”
Jean-Paul just kept painting his airplane piece silently, without looking up.
“Time to go, Gustave,” Papa said, opening the door. “Ah, that’s a nice airplane you’re making there, Jean-Paul.”
“Thanks,” Jean-Paul said. “Bye.” He stayed in the room, painting, as Gustave went out to the kitchen and started putting on his still-damp shoes.
“So, I hope things keep going well with the job, Berthold,”Aunt Geraldine said as his parents put on their coats. “It’s hard to imagine you as a janitor, I must say. I guess you can’t do much else with your foreign accent. It’s a bit of a comedown for you! No fine clothes at work when you’re a janitor, hmm?”
“It’ll do for now,” Papa said stiffly, winding a scarf around his neck.
—
“It’s such good news about David. Don’t be annoyed with Geraldine, Berthold,” Maman said as they waited on the cold subway platform for the train home. “She just says whatever she’s thinking. She doesn’t mean any harm. She’s always been that way.”
“Yes,” Papa said shortly. “Always rude!”
“Oh, you know you don’t mean that! She’s your sister-in-law, and you love her.”
“True. I do love my rude sister-in-law!” Papa said. Gustave listened, grinning to himself as he watched a pigeon calmly strutting around the empty subway track and pecking at the ground between the rails.
“That was some meal, wasn’t it?” Maman commented. “They certainly are living well. Madame Raymond must give her a good salary.”
“Hmm.”
“But our jobs pay enough to manage on. We’re here, and we’re safe. We need to take it one day at a time.” Maman kissed Papa. Gustave looked away, scuffing his left shoe along the cement. He knew Papa
did
find it hard working as a janitor. He came home exhausted andlimping every evening, ate dinner quickly, changed out of his blue janitor’s coveralls, and then three evenings a week, he left with Maman for two hours of night school. It was odd seeing him going off to work in that faded blue jumpsuit. Before the war, Papa had always gone to work sharply dressed in a suit with polished shoes. There had sometimes even been a brightly colored silk handkerchief peeking jauntily out of his pocket. Where are those silk handkerchiefs now? Gustave wondered suddenly. They must have been left behind, somewhere in France.
The train pulled into the station with a whoosh of heated air and the shrieking of brakes. The pigeon fluttered calmly up to the platform just in time and began strolling about again. The doors of the train hissed open, and Gustave and his parents got on. The doors shut and the subway train started up with a jolt. Colored lights flashed as the train rattled through the dark tunnel.
Jean-Paul had a pretty nice setup there in the Bronx, Gustave thought as his parents talked to each other. Good food, his own room, even the model airplanes. But why was Jean-Paul sure that they weren’t going to hear about Marcel? An unpleasant thought floated into Gustave’s head. What if one day he got a letter from Nicole with information about Marcel and his mother, and it was bad news?
“Women!” Jean-Paul said. He pushed another airplane piece toward Gustave. “You want to paint this silver?”
“Sure.” Gustave took the tailpiece. “My mother told your mother we heard from Nicole, right? I got a letter with part of it blacked out. It was something about someone being arrested. But she didn’t have any news about Marcel.”
“Yeah.” Jean-Paul had his head down and was concentrating on the propeller. “I don’t think we’re likely to get any news about him, you know,” he muttered after a while.
“We might. Nicole’s father is in the Resistance, and he’s still trying to get information.”
Jean-Paul just kept painting his airplane piece silently, without looking up.
“Time to go, Gustave,” Papa said, opening the door. “Ah, that’s a nice airplane you’re making there, Jean-Paul.”
“Thanks,” Jean-Paul said. “Bye.” He stayed in the room, painting, as Gustave went out to the kitchen and started putting on his still-damp shoes.
“So, I hope things keep going well with the job, Berthold,”Aunt Geraldine said as his parents put on their coats. “It’s hard to imagine you as a janitor, I must say. I guess you can’t do much else with your foreign accent. It’s a bit of a comedown for you! No fine clothes at work when you’re a janitor, hmm?”
“It’ll do for now,” Papa said stiffly, winding a scarf around his neck.
—
“It’s such good news about David. Don’t be annoyed with Geraldine, Berthold,” Maman said as they waited on the cold subway platform for the train home. “She just says whatever she’s thinking. She doesn’t mean any harm. She’s always been that way.”
“Yes,” Papa said shortly. “Always rude!”
“Oh, you know you don’t mean that! She’s your sister-in-law, and you love her.”
“True. I do love my rude sister-in-law!” Papa said. Gustave listened, grinning to himself as he watched a pigeon calmly strutting around the empty subway track and pecking at the ground between the rails.
“That was some meal, wasn’t it?” Maman commented. “They certainly are living well. Madame Raymond must give her a good salary.”
“Hmm.”
“But our jobs pay enough to manage on. We’re here, and we’re safe. We need to take it one day at a time.” Maman kissed Papa. Gustave looked away, scuffing his left shoe along the cement. He knew Papa
did
find it hard working as a janitor. He came home exhausted andlimping every evening, ate dinner quickly, changed out of his blue janitor’s coveralls, and then three evenings a week, he left with Maman for two hours of night school. It was odd seeing him going off to work in that faded blue jumpsuit. Before the war, Papa had always gone to work sharply dressed in a suit with polished shoes. There had sometimes even been a brightly colored silk handkerchief peeking jauntily out of his pocket. Where are those silk handkerchiefs now? Gustave wondered suddenly. They must have been left behind, somewhere in France.
The train pulled into the station with a whoosh of heated air and the shrieking of brakes. The pigeon fluttered calmly up to the platform just in time and began strolling about again. The doors of the train hissed open, and Gustave and his parents got on. The doors shut and the subway train started up with a jolt. Colored lights flashed as the train rattled through the dark tunnel.
Jean-Paul had a pretty nice setup there in the Bronx, Gustave thought as his parents talked to each other. Good food, his own room, even the model airplanes. But why was Jean-Paul sure that they weren’t going to hear about Marcel? An unpleasant thought floated into Gustave’s head. What if one day he got a letter from Nicole with information about Marcel and his mother, and it was bad news?
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