The Hunger Moon by Suzanne Matson Page B

tape on top. She pulled the first layer of tissue off, and revealed a cashmere cardigan with yellowed beaded embroidery, a present from her children one birthday. Then a satin peignoir with matching robe from Robert. There, underneathsome baby clothes, was the suit. It was a richer fabric than she had remembered even, woven from the softest wool. The deep green had a subtle vibrancy, like moss after a rain. Eleanor pulled the suit out and, on impulse, peeled off her clothes to try it on. It still fit; Eleanor’s weight had never fluctuated much. The waistband was snugger and the seat of the skirt hung a little, but the expertly tailored shoulders with small pads still made her look sleek and well proportioned. As she turned in front of the mirror, she had an idea; June should have the suit as a present. They were the same height—they had joked about this, since neither one, when putting away groceries, ever utilized the top shelf. She guessed the suit would fit June fine. She took her scissors and opened up another box: G IFT W RAPPING M ATERIALS . After she had a neatly wrapped Christmas present complete with tag and ribbon, Eleanor turned off the lights and went to bed.
    W HEN E LEANOR WOKE , she didn’t know where she was. A piercing horn reverberated through the air, and the room smelled smoky. Perhaps it was an air raid drill. They had them at school. But why the smoke, unless it was a real air raid? Eleanor rose, grabbing her robe from the foot of the bed. Where were Betty and Julia, the two girls she shared a room with? If they had left, it must have been a real emergency; but why wouldn’t they have waited for her? Eleanor opened the door to the hall, staring at the other dorm room numbers. Which room was the Mitchell twins’? Doors started opening, and faces she didn’t know were peering out. The siren seemed to be coming mainly from her room. Men were on the floor, which wasn’t allowed. Perhaps they had come to help.
    Someone came and grabbed her arm. The new girl on the floor.
    “Are you okay, Eleanor?”
    “What’s happening?” Eleanor asked.
    “It sounds like your smoke alarm, and there’s smoke coming from your apartment. I’ve already called the fire department. Were you cooking?”
    “Of course not. There’s no cooking allowed,” Eleanor saidindignantly. “What are all these men doing here?”
    A man in a robe shouted something to the new girl and, before Eleanor could protest, rushed by them into her room. A moment later, he came back out, coughing.
    “The bottom of a teakettle started to burn,” he said. “I turned off the stove and opened all your windows,” he said to Eleanor. “Are you all right?”
    Eleanor nodded, staring at him.
    “Okay, then,” he said, tightening the belt on his robe. “It’s going to be cold in your apartment for a while, but you need to clear the air. I heard the fire engine coming. I’ll go talk to them. I’d leave your door open for cross-ventilation if I were you.”
    Just then a firefighter in a heavy canvas suit came from the stairway, carrying an ax. The man in the robe hurried over to talk to him, pointing at Eleanor and the open door of her room. Tears started to well up in her eyes. She didn’t understand why there was a man in her dorm at night. And she certainly hadn’t been making tea. She obeyed the rules.
    She heard the wail of an infant. The new girl looked at her and said, “There’s Charlie. Why don’t you come to my place next door and have a cup of tea while your place airs out? We’ll watch the kettle real carefully,” she said, smiling.
    Eleanor allowed herself to be steered by the girl, who seated her at a kitchen table and disappeared. The crying stopped. When she came back, she was holding a fat, smiling baby.
    “Could you take him for a minute while I start the tea? He might fuss a little, but I’ll feed him as soon as I take him back from you.”
    Without waiting for Eleanor to reply, the girl handed the baby to her.