Tunnels (12 page)

 

TOP TEN THINGS I'D RATHER DO THAN WALK INTO THAT STUPID MATH 4 U PLACE

 

10.Explain to Mom and Dad I no longer want panties with the days of the week on them, even if they are on sale for half off. Hello? Not six anymore, can
'
t help it if I still fit into small underwear.

9.Complete exactly one of the required ten pull-ups for the physical fitness test before arms start shaking uncontrollably, in front of the whole P.E. class.

8.Walk through Citrus Grove Mall with Mom while a group of cute boys is approaching from the other direction.

7.Pick up a colon cleanse at the pharmacy for our neighbor, Mrs. Lawrence, when Mom tells her I
'
d be glad to do it.

6.Let Mom dress me for a week.

5.Call
"
poo
"
something else like
"
business
"
or
"
daily constitutional
"
(dad
'
s fave).

4.Discuss the human body and all its wonder at the dinner table.

3.Clean out all the stuff under my bed.

2.Clean the pool after Sam releases his frogs and tells them to
"
go forth
,
lads
,
and be free to multiply
.
"
Not sure where he got the old English from. Guessing too many video games involving swords and dragons.

And the #1 thing I
'
d rather do than walk into MATH 4 U:

Tell my arch-enemy I like her outfit.

STEPPING BACK IN TIME

Since the phone call from Mom, life has been a mess at home. Basically, chores fill up my day, while Sam just lies around. Seems like he's been sick for ages. We finally found out he's had the chicken pox. Here I'd thought he'd gotten a rash from rolling in the grass in his swimsuit (see number five on my list of How to Stay Home from School). But now I'm pretty sure he's milking this sick thing pretty hard, even if it is legit. He could at least empty the trash by now. Come on, people! Let's get this boy earning his meals for crying out loud. Whatever. Mom was making me pay big, and even though I hate to let Sam off the hook, it wasn't his fault for once. No David, no tunnels, no freedom.

But today I'm happy to report life's finally changing for the better. As of an hour ago, a light at the end of the tunnel showed up, and I was sprinting toward it. And you know when stuff started getting better? When I brought home a new pair of skater shoes for Sam. One of Evan's friends works at the shop over on Cedar and gets a huge discount, so I did a little shopping. Why? I'd begun feeling guilty I'd super-glued his shoes to his skateboard. Well there's that, and the fact my little bro hadn't shown any of his demon qualities in a while. Strange how you can complain about someone for days, and then when he's gone, you miss him. Anyway, you should have seen his face. It's like he worshipped me again, just like when he was five.

So it wasn't an hour after the shoes were in Sam's hands Evan called to see if I could get away. His Mom had told him to get Pops's basement cleaned up and he needed help—she was ready to yard sale the stuff they didn't want. Well, he didn't have to ask twice.

So I'm sitting in the basement alone, waiting for him to come back. He doesn't do much without a drink in clear sight, so he went upstairs to grab a couple of sodas for us out of the old fridge.

I'd brought my digging tools along because I'm finding out you never know when there's gonna be a wall to bust down. The diary entry had said Emily had been acting strangely around the air raid supplies in the corner. I was pretty sure those supplies were long gone, so now I just needed to figure out which corner Pops had been talking about.

"Here's a cold one for you," he said, handing me a root beer like he was some bartender from the old west. "Where do we start?"

"We need to find the corner where Pops saw the heart on the wall." I peered around the room, trying to find the most likely place to begin. "He said your aunt was acting weird when she saw him and hanging out by the air raid stuff. What's all that over there?" I pointed to some shelving holding a large collection of canned foods, a few blankets, a radio, and other stuff which was probably an emergency kit.

"Oh it's just Pops's earthquake supplies," he answered as he made his way over to it. "He was always ready for the big one. We figured since his house had made it through some pretty large quakes, this would be the place we'd all meet if a seven hit us."

"Well I wish you'd told me that before," I shuddered. "Did you feel the earthquake during the night? Cal Tech said it was only a five, but man did it feel bigger." I didn't like to think about fives, let alone sevens on the Richter scale. But this Lucy lady from Cal Tech was all about letting the public know how close we were to devastation.

"Nah, I guess I slept through it." Moving boxes away from the walls, he handed them to me to put somewhere else. "Maybe if we can clear some space we can find the heart."

"Good idea," I agreed. They weren't too heavy, so my superhuman Kat strength wasn't needed.

"These shelves have been connected to the basement walls as far back as I remember," he said. "Probably been here forever."

"Cool, let me know if you find any dinosaur bones while you're at it." A little archaeologist humor never hurt anyone.

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean," he said, handing me the last box and moving closer to the wall. "This house is old so everything in it is, too."

I got down on the ground next to him and took a look at the wall. It was dark in the corner and the heart had probably faded. "Some of the bricks look different than the rest," I commented, pointing to where the mortar was thicker in one area. Some had even squeezed out between the bricks, while the rest of the wall was smooth.

"Yeah, they do," he agreed, and started moving some canned goods away from the wall. "We'll be able to see it better after I get all these cans out of the way." He held up one of the food cans, which probably expired forty years ago judging by the worn label and rusty edges. "Pops was crazy if he thought we'd eat sardines and canned ham. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned tuna fish?"

Once he'd finished, I was able to get closer to see it better. There, faded from red to pink, was the heart with the now familiar G.P. + E.V. I couldn't believe it was so easy when everything up until now hadn't been.

"Get the pick ax," he said. "Somebody came along and replaced those bricks for some reason. Let's see if there's some stuff hidden behind this wall."

BIG ANSWERS

Evan was right. We found plenty behind the wall—ten or so boxes full of different stuff. "Who do you think all this belongs to?"

"Beats me." He shrugged. "Why don't you climb back into the basement and I'll start handing you boxes?" After about five minutes, we had them all spread out around us.

"This is so cool." I found a place on the basement floor and pulled a box over to me. "Why don't you choose your own and we'll see what we find?" He must have been as excited as me because for once he didn't argue.

The first box was marked RATIONS/HOUSE SUPPLIES. There were some coupon books with ration stamps on top. I knew these were traded in for certain foods like meat and cheese during World War II. With not enough food to go around back then, the ration stamps were used to get your fair share of what was available. I couldn't imagine worrying about having enough food to feed my family. It must have been super hard on people.

The edges of the ration books were yellowed and worn, but the stamps inside were still colorful. Each was marked with letters and numbers, like F5 and D2, and each represented the different foods you could trade the stamp in for. Grandma told me there still was never enough food for most people, even with the stamps. She said after the war was over, they were so used to doing without it was hard to get used to having more than enough. I can remember even up until she died we couldn't get her to throw stuff away. Even food which was getting pretty gross and past its expiration date. Used to drive Mom nuts, but I totally understood.

As I dug deeper, I found an odd collection. Candles, matches, an old wind-up watch, a mint with a dead bug stuck to its wrapper (ew), a yo-yo, and an old map with words written by hand at the top: AIR RAID MARSHALS FOR SECTOR NINE, CITRUS GROVE. My Great Grandpa Cy—G.G. was what I called him—used to tell me stories about the nineteen forties. How there were mandatory drills to practice what to do in case airplane bombers were headed toward America's coast.

"We'd pull down the black-out shades so there was no light to guide the enemy with their bombs," he'd said when I was seven, sitting on his lap and listening to every word. He told me his sister, Bernice, had been taken to a concentration camp at Auschwitz in Poland. G.G. was already safe in America by then. A few years before the Nazis started invading the Jewish neighborhoods in Poland, he'd come here to work. G.G. never saw his sister again, and I always hugged him a little tighter because of the tears I'd see in his eyes whenever he talked about her. He'd also get on my case about appreciating Sam more. "You just never know how important someone is to you until they're gone." I tried to keep reminding myself what he said, but it's hard when your super annoying brother thinks it's his job to be the superhero of annoying brothers.

Staring back down at the map, I ran my finger along the street Dad grew up on, until I finally saw my grandpa's name. Cy Goldstein. Wow…so cool. Sure wish he was still around.

But it was the next box which surprised me the most. There was a piece of paper taped to the lid with a note on it: "Emily, we think you should have the letters you wrote to George. He'd want that. Love, Lois & George Sr." This had to mean his parents believed he wasn't coming home. Wow, this must be why Emily hid the boxes before she went away. The notes were important to her, and maybe all the other stuff was what she wanted to use for their new house when they were finally married. Guess she hid her stuff so it'd be safe while she went to Europe. But why hadn't she trusted her family to hang on to her belongings? I'd probably never know the real answer.

I read through the love notes and didn't see much out of the ordinary to give me any clues. It wasn't until I got near the bottom of the pile when I hit the jackpot. The first lines of the letter were filled with normal stuff people write when they're in love. It was further along in the note when things got juicy and I couldn't believe my luck.

January 13, 1942

My dearest George:

Whoever said thirteen is an unlucky number was wrong because I got to see you today. I hope you find this letter tonight instead of soggy and wet on the clothes line, still deep in your pocket.

I
'
m so happy and thankful we have our tunnels to keep us safe in case of an attack. The atrocity of Pearl Harbor has left us all on high alert, but I pray we can protect each other and our families if we must. Your idea of marking the safest places in the tunnels with hearts was brilliant—you are so smart. Even President Roosevelt has said so, and you have the thank you letter to prove it.

Huh? The president knew George? Emily's George? Wow, this
was
a big deal.

I pray the day won
'
t arrive when your number comes up, because I couldn
'
t bear to see you leave. It is destiny I become your wife and help build our house on Sunset Drive. I dream about our plot of land, how when you finish your architectural studies, we can work together, side-by-side, to make it real.

Meet you at the usual place tomorrow, my love!

Your Em

"Hey!" I couldn't wait to tell Evan what I'd found out. "George and Emily found the tunnels and used them for protection! They wanted to have a place to take their families in case California was attacked like Pearl Harbor was! And guess what else? He marked the safest places in the tunnels with hearts!" I was about to bust a gut (Dad says this when he's excited, but it does kinda fit in this case). So much information in this one little letter.

His face became chalk-white with my words, like he'd seen a ghost or his favorite hair gel was no longer being manufactured.

That's right, big time shock on his face. And when he spoke, I learned why.

"Do you realize what all this means?" His hand was shaking as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. "George must still be alive. He's got to be the guy who followed you. Remember the heart tattoo on his arm?"

Wow. He's right. The longer I sat there the more I understood, and it was like things became so clear. The two of them felt like they had an eternal connection. And Emily dying in Europe must have been more than George could handle. I'd never been in love, but I got it.

But it still didn't explain why he'd been following me. I was staring down at the letter in my lap when something clicked.

"Remember the note at your Aunt Emily's grave?" I asked. "Did you ever find out what day her birthday was?"

"Huh?" But he was only confused for a second before what I was thinking registered in his own mind. If there was ever a time a brightly shining light bulb should appear above someone's head, it was now.

"October twenty-fifth," he answered. "Crud! That's today!"

My heart was racing. This meant only one thing. We had to make sure George didn't fulfill his promise to join Emily. We had to keep him from doing the most final thing of all.