Free Don't Talk to Me About the War by David A. Adler Page A

math. She has science.
    “Where were you? What happened?”
    “He has a radio in his office. We went there and listened to the news.”
    We are by Mrs. Dillon’s room, where I have math. Beth’s science class is down the hall.
    “You went to Dr. Johnson’s office?”
    Beth nods. “I’ll tell you more later.”
    She smiles and rushes to her science class. I enter Mrs. Dillon’s room and see her by the blackboard drawing triangles and labeling the angles and sides.
    During math, I wonder about Beth. What was she thinking when she asked me to meet her on Thursday? Are we just two friends meeting for ice cream or are we more than friends? Will it be a date? Should I pay for both ice creams?
    My next class is science, and Mr. Jacobs keeps us late, after the bell rings, so he can finish what he’s saying, only I don’t know what that is. I’m not really listening. I get to history just before the bell starting third period, too late to talk to Beth. But we do talk after class, on our way to our lockers and the cafeteria.
    “Dr. Johnson and I listened to the WHN news report,” Beth tells me. “It was the same as the one we heard in Goldman’s.”
    We’re just entering the cafeteria.
    “You should see his office,” she says. “There is a picture of him with his rifle and uniform and another in front of a captured German tank. He looked so different when he was young, so skinny. He had hair and he even smiled in the pictures. On top of one bookcase is a helmet. He told me it’s the one he wore in the Great War.”
    We’re by our table now.
    I say, “I bet he still has his rifle, maybe even in his office.”
    Roger asks, “Who has a rifle in his office?”
    “No one,” I answer, and tell him where Beth was this morning.
    “So, you got in trouble again. You were sent to the principal’s office,” Roger says, and shakes his finger at Beth.
    Beth ignores Roger and describes the rescue at Dunkirk. Charles, Sarah, and I listen as Beth talks about the soldiers and the power of the German Army, how it so quickly conquered Poland, Denmark, Norway, and Holland, that it’s marching through Belgium and France. She describes the amazing rescue. I don’t think Roger is real interested, but he listens, too.
    After school, I walk with Beth and Sarah to Goldman’s. I don’t stay to read the newspapers. They’ll only tell me what I heard this morning. Also, I want to be home to help Mom, so she can rest and get better.
    As I walk home, I realize I’ve been smiling all day. Good news will do that.
    I have to study history for tomorrow’s test, but before that, maybe I’ll listen to the radio. The Dodgers aren’t playing this afternoon, but the Yankees are. They have a doubleheader against the Washington Senators. I’m not a Yankees fan, but they have some good ballplayers, DiMaggio and Dickey. The games are on the radio, so if Mom isn’t listening to her soap operas, maybe I can listen to the ball games.
    I greet the two old women sitting in the lobby of our building and go upstairs. I unlock the door to our apartment and hear someone crying.
    Mom!
    I rush to her.
    Mom is in the parlor, sitting in the big chair. She’s bent forward with one hand over her left eye. And she’s crying.
    “What is it, Mom?”
    “My eye,” she says through the tears. “It hurts.”
    “Does it hurt that bad?”
    Mom shakes her head. It doesn’t.
    “But I can’t see! I can’t see out of that eye! I’m half blind!”

11
    Another Doctor
    M om looks so weak when she’s bent over like that, so vulnerable. I drop my books and just look at her. I don’t know what to do next.
    “I fell asleep here listening to music,” Mom tells me as she sits up a bit. “When I woke up, my left eye hurt. I couldn’t see out of it.”
    I take her hand and hold it. She starts crying again.
    “You should go back to the doctor, maybe even to the hospital.” Then I say, “I’m calling Dad.”
    The telephone is on the small table by Mom’s