Isabel’s War by Lila Perl Read Free Book Online

folded overseas caps slung through their belts. There are only a few in sailors’ whites and, of course, I get a jolt when I see them because they remind me of Roy (who I’m still pretty mad at).
    â€œYep, the draft is really in full swing these days,” my father remarks, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Got to get at those Germans and Japs.”
    Ruthie and I glance at each other silently. Some of the fellows are really cute in their new uniforms. “Looking for somebody to write letters to?” I tease Ruthie.
    Just then there’s a long screaming whistle and everybody starts peering down the track. “That’ll be Arnold’s train for sure,” I mutter to Ruthie. “Just watch the way he acts toward me the minute he gets off. He doesn’t see me as anything but an annoying kid sister. He treats me like I’m chopped liver.”
    Ruthie shakes her head. “Maybe he’ll be different this time. Why don’t you wait and see?” That’s Ruthie, always giving the guilty party the benefit of the doubt. Anyhow, she has a slight crush on my brother from summers past.
    The train chugs into Harper’s Falls in a cloud of black smoke. My father informs us that “it’s being pulled by an old coal-fired steam locomotive” and that “the U.S. has got to get itself some new rolling stock if it really expects to win this war.” I sometimes wonder why hedoesn’t just give up his insurance business in New York City and go to Washington to offer himself as a right-hand man to President Roosevelt.
    The train is jammed with even more soldiers, their heads popping through the open windows like bunches of flesh-colored balloons. A lot of them get off, a lot of the waiting soldiers get on, an Army truck arrives to pick up the new arrivals and some who’ve already been waiting around, and finally Arnold’s figure swims through the crowd.
    He’s easy enough to pick out because he’s dressed in civilian clothes, a blue shirt and dark trousers. My father and mother rush forward to embrace him. Even though it’s been only about a week since we left home for Shady Pines, my parents are hugging Arnold as though they haven’t seen him in months.
    â€œSo,” my mother says playfully after my brother has given me a peck on the cheek and greeted Ruthie rather absentmindedly. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit? We did say you should come up for a little rest from work, but so soon?”
    â€œTell you all about it when we get to the hotel,” Arnold says, slinging his overnight bag into the trunk of the car and taking my mother’s place in the passenger seat beside my father.
    From the back seat where she’s sitting directly behind Arnold, my mother leans forward and strokesthe back of my brother’s head. His hair is the color of dark butterscotch and very thick. “You need a haircut, my darling. Have you been working so hard that you didn’t have time to get one?”
    Arnold runs his hand over where my mother’s has just been. “I’ll get one soon. Very short.”
    â€œNot too short,” my mother cautions with a bossy edge to her voice.
    We’re back at Moskin’s in no time and my father parks outside the kitchen entrance so the busboys can bring in the hotel supplies.
    â€œCome in, come in, everybody,” Minnie Moskin beckons. “Arnold made an early train. Surely he didn’t have breakfast.” She clears one of her well-scrubbed wooden tables and starts to fuss at the stove. Would Arnold like French toast with maple syrup, eggs, cereal, coffee? What about the rest of us? My father says he’ll have a little of whatever Arnold is having. Eating a second breakfast at Moskin’s never bothers him. My mother and I shake our heads no thanks.
    It’s so homey sitting here in Mrs. Moskin’s kitchen surrounded by all the good smells of her