Ship of Dolls (20 page)

“Why?”

“There’s fear newcomers will take all the jobs and leave our people without work.”

People were expecting a lot of Emily Grace and the others, Lexie told herself. She couldn’t help wondering if even twelve thousand dolls could make people from different countries become friends.

Where
was
Emily Grace? Lexie rose on her toes to look ahead through the crowd. Below the painting of Mount Fuji, row after row of dolls sat or stood facing the audience.

Beside her, Grandma said, “My goodness, most are dressed like little girls, but look at those two on the end. A bride and groom!”

“Maybe they’re supposed to be children playing dress-​up,” Lexie suggested.

“Huh. I can’t say I’ve ever met a ten- ​or eleven-​year-​old boy willing to dress up as a groom.”

Lexie giggled, picturing Jack Harmon dressed like that. While Grandma joined Mama and Captain Richards, Lexie walked to the stage and looked at the dolls. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Emily Grace near the middle.

She leaned closer, longing to hold the doll once more and wish her good luck in Japan.

A flashlamp blazed nearby. Lexie blinked at the white light and turned almost blindly in the resulting smoke, managing to make out Mr. Clayton with his camera on its tripod.

“Perfect,” he said. “The look on your face spoke of all the hope and love and longing put into these dolls by the children of America. Sylvia suggested the shot, and she was right.” He beamed at his wife. “My idea girl. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Sylvia’s cheeks reddened. “I like a picture that tells a story.”

“Sir!” Mrs. Wilkins steamed up with Louise in tow. “If you are photographing girls who are part of this project, you need my daughter. She won a contest for writing the best letter to accompany the doll from her class.”

Lexie felt as if someone had just kicked to life a hot ember in her stomach. Fire flared through her. Then she saw Louise’s face and some of the flames died down. Louise looked as if she couldn’t decide whether to cry or to run.

“Well, then, young lady,” Mr. Clayton said, “step on up here beside your friend.”

I’m not her friend!
Lexie bit the words back.

Louise’s cheeks were bright red. Her eyes were bright, too. Sounding defiant, she said, “I had to write the best letter. Or Mother and Father would stop loving me. Because I always have to be the best for them.”

“Louise!” Mrs. Wilkins exclaimed, patting the bird on her hat and looking flustered. “What a silly thing to say.”

“But I couldn’t write the best letter,” Louise said in a rush. “Because Lexie did. I didn’t know what to do, so I took hers and said it was mine.”

Mrs. Wilkins’s face got as red as Louise’s. “You don’t know what you’re saying!”

“I do know,” Louise said. “I can’t think of anything else. I think that’s why I got sick on the ship. And when I get back to school, I’ll tell everybody the truth.”

Her mother looked horrified, but Louise blinked away the tears shining in her eyes and kept on as if she couldn’t stop the words once she’d started. “Lexie helped me on the ship and didn’t get mad when I lost Emily Grace and I heard she even gave away the doll her grandma made her to get Emily Grace back. And I don’t think I could have done that. But I think I can tell the truth about what I did do.”

Mrs. Wilkins looked around as if hoping her real daughter would suddenly appear. Or maybe she just needed somewhere to sit down. “Well, I never.” Even the bird on her hat seemed to droop. “I never,” she said again, as if a full sentence were out of her reach.

Her mouth trembling, Louise looked at her mother. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

Mrs. Wilkins’s color had faded until her skin turned pale. She looked as if she were seeing Louise for the first time. Maybe she was seeing herself through Louise’s eyes, Lexie thought, feeling uncomfortable with the tension between them.

“I suspect we’re both sorry,” Mrs. Wilkins said then, her voice quiet. “We’re going to need a long talk. We’ll both think about this while they start the program.”

Lexie grabbed Louise’s hand. The girl’s misery made tears behind her own eyes. “You collected more money to buy and dress the doll than anybody else in the class. And you brought her all the way here.”

She turned to Mr. Clayton. “You should take a picture of us both.” She glanced at Mrs. Clayton, the photographer’s “idea girl,” and added, “We’re both part of the doll’s story.”

“Of course you are!” Mrs. Clayton bustled them to the front of the stage and began positioning them. Lexie was glad to be distracted by posing and not to have to say anything.

She wasn’t sure she forgave Louise, who had done her a terrible wrong. But she wasn’t mad anymore. Not too mad, anyway. It would take a lot of courage for Louise to tell the truth at school. If she found the strength to do that, maybe they could learn to be friends. Or at least not enemies.

Lexie brought her thoughts to a fast stop. It wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t be at school. She was here with Mama, and she meant to stay. The school and everyone she knew there were part of her past. She wasn’t going to change her mind now that she and Mama were finally together. Not for Grandpa and Grandma. Nor for Jack. Regret shivered through her, but she pushed it away.

The photographer advanced the film in his camera and adjusted his lens. Lexie tried to brace for the flash, but again it almost blinded her. As someone on the stage tested the microphone, she blinked, trying to see, then made her way to her seat beside Grandma.

A woman walked to the microphone to welcome the audience and tell them how the doll project had come about and how children by themselves or in groups had saved their money to buy 12,739 dolls to send to Japan. The audience clapped loudly and another flash blazed.

When it was time for Lexie and Mama to sing “The Blue-​Eyed Doll,” Lexie walked up to the microphone to explain the song first, the way they’d practiced. Her amplified voice startled her at first. She moved back a little and began again. “Our song was written by a Japanese poet in 1921. It is about a celluloid doll that arrived in Japan aboard a freighter. The doll had blue eyes and blond hair, and the song asks the Japanese girls to be her friends. ‘The Blue-​Eyed Doll’ is popular in Japan. We hope our dolls will be loved, too.”

She stepped back beside Mama, then remembered to speak into the microphone again to add, “We will be singing the song in English.”

As she joined Mama and waited for the music to begin, Lexie looked out at the audience. Millie sat near her father with Annie on her lap. She leaned closer to say something to him. He smiled back with so much love that Lexie’s heart gave an aching wrench.

Millie’s father was smiling at Millie the way Papa had once smiled. Lexie missed Papa so suddenly and deeply that she wondered if she would be able to sing. Then the music came up, and the words came to her lips just the way they had with Mama last night. Their voices blended well together as always, but Lexie heard sadness in her own. She knew her longing for Papa came through the song.

A moment of silence followed. She wondered if she had ruined the song by feeling sad. Then the crowd roared with applause. Flashes flared from several cameras, making it hard to see people in the audience through the smoke. Mama took her hand as they left the stage to find their seats. “Kiddo, you are a star!”

E
veryone they passed smiled or said something like “Beautiful” or “I loved your song.” Lexie was glad to take the empty seat beside Grandma and feel her comfortable warmth nearby while people turned in their seats to smile.

Women in kimonos rushed on stage, taking fast little steps in
geta
s, the wooden clogs on little wooden bars that held them above the floor. They looked like dancing dolls to Lexie as they performed with parasols and fans. Then children ran on to kick a heavy leather ball into the air and try to keep it from touching the floor.

Lexie looked at her program and saw that the game was called
kemari
and had come to Japan from China in the sixth century. Drummers performed next, their beats stirring through Lexie until she bounced in her seat.

A Japanese woman who had immigrated to San Francisco before the law changed came on stage to sing a high-​pitched trilling song. Lexie sat still, hearing each clear note like the ring of a wet fingertip around the rim of one of Grandma’s best crystal goblets.

She clapped and cheered for every performance until she felt hoarse and was glad her own song had come early in the program. All the while, in a part of her mind, she thought about Mama’s surprise and tried to guess what it might be.

The excitement and applause still echoed through her as she settled into a seat at a crowded table in a restaurant on the waterfront. Captain Richards had to go back to his ship, but the Claytons joined them. Everyone talked at once. Lexie managed to catch Grandma’s attention. “Millie and her father were there. Did you see them?”

“I didn’t. I’m glad they came.”

“She looked happy.”

Grandma nodded, but she studied Lexie with troubled eyes. Maybe she had understood the sadness when Lexie sang.

“Here, now,” Mr. Clayton said. “You don’t look like a girl who just wowed everybody with a song.”

His wife smiled. “Or like a girl about to go on the greatest adventure of her life.”

Mama laughed. “That’s because she doesn’t know yet!”

“Know what?” Lexie looked at Mama with excitement rushing through her again. Was it finally time for the surprise?

“Hal and Sylvia invited me to share their travels to Japan! I knew that passport would come in handy someday. Everyone said I was nuts to get one.”

Lexie’s stomach plummeted to her toes. “Japan,” she repeated. That was the surprise? Her voice sounded as sick as she felt. She had planned to be with Mama forever. But she couldn’t stay in San Francisco alone. “When will you come back?”

Mrs. Clayton looked flustered. “I thought she knew. I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be. It’s time to spill the beans.” Mama reached past Grandma to clasp Lexie’s hand. “Hal and Sylvia invited me to travel with them and help set up photographs. They say I have a way with people.”

“People cotton to your mama,” Mr. Clayton said. “We’ve been a little worried the women in Japan won’t want to pose. But your mama can talk anyone into anything!”

“But . . . when will you come back?” Lexie struggled to swallow tears before they could reach her eyes.

Mama’s sparkle looked even brighter. “That’s the wrong question, kiddo. You should ask when will
we
come back.”

“We?” Lexie felt even more confused. Did Mama mean the Claytons? It didn’t matter when they came back. But Mama . . . How could Mama go away now, when they’d just gotten together?”

“Oh, Thea,” Grandma said, the words coming out like a moan.

“You don’t get it, do you, kiddo? Grandma does. You’re going to Japan with us! Since we’re mother and daughter, you can travel on my passport.”

To Japan? With Mama! That was the surprise! Mama had missed meeting the ship because she was arranging for them to travel together. Lexie’s wheeling thoughts made her feel dizzy.

Mama laughed at Lexie’s expression. “You can thank Captain Richards. When I told him how you and I used to sing together in restaurants in Seattle, he offered free passage to you as well as to me if we’ll sing to his passengers and crew in the evenings!”

“Captain Richards?” Lexie asked. “It was his idea for us both to go?”

“He said we’d be a pair of canaries!” Mama said.

“Her schooling,” Grandma protested, sounding as if she was gearing up for a serious argument.

Mama waved it away before it could begin. “How many little girls steam away to Japan, Mother Lewis? Lexie’s going to pick up a nifty education. Travel. People. Places. She’ll see a part of the world most girls only read about!”

Mr. Clayton put in, “It’s a great opportunity.”

Japan
, Lexie told herself. Where people had mats on their floors instead of carpets and paper for walls. It was going to be an adventure.

But no matter how much she thought about it, she just felt numb. Mama wasn’t leaving her after all. Mama was taking her along to Japan. She should be excited. She
was
excited, but she also saw Grandma looking as if she might become ill.

This is me, my life. Grandma has to understand.

Mama kept talking about all the nifty things they would see in Japan and the keen people they would meet, with the Claytons adding their ideas. “And just think,” Mama finished. “We’ll get to watch the ceremony welcoming the dolls to Japan! Won’t that be the berries? You don’t have to say good-​bye to Emily Grace. You’re going with her!”

“Sylvia has some great ideas for photographs,” Mr. Clayton said.

His wife added, “The mister will photograph the adventure of one girl and her doll leaving America to be welcomed in Japan. It will make a wonderful story!”

Lexie felt strange: excited and scared at the same time. She couldn’t help remembering that this was Captain Richards’s idea. Mama might have left her here with Grandma.

Hal chuckled as if he saw that thought in Lexie’s eyes. “Grandma will get her life back.”