Momma and Gramma took me and Bill out of school the day Pearl Harbor was bombed. It was cold when they got us. The snow was coming down hard. They didn't tell us what happened until I read the paper the next morning. Some of the neighbors came to sit in our living room to listen to the radio. They were there for so long it became nighttime, and Mr. and Mrs. Dennison started making sandwiches. I didn't understand what was happening.

Momma was crying. Gramma and Gramps were comforting her. Bill was with them. He understood, but wouldn't tell me what happened. Mrs. Dennison was crying, too. A lot of people were crying. They said I was too young to understand. They told me to go to bed.

When I went to do my paper route the next morning, I read it. The USS Arizona wrapped in black smoke, tipped over like a toy in a bathtub. Fires everywhere. I went home crying. Momma hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay.

The next time we got a letter from Papa, he wrote that his battalion were sailing to the Philippines. Momma started crying again. She read it aloud to Bill and me. Papa wrote that he loved us a lot. He missed us a lot. “Write me,” he wrote, and I could hear the begging. “Your letters are such a comfort to me.”

Ms. Lewis showed me on the map where the Philippines was.

Christmas 1941 was really cold and dark. The carolers stopped in front of our house to lift our spirits, but the music floated down the street and into the dark.

“Don't be so worried, Charlie,” Arthur says, patting my shoulder. “I'm sure they're kicking a ton of Jap ass over there.” We're sitting on the school front steps, the last bell having rang a while ago. Fall is cool and fresh, and the trees lining Neville Street are like Mary McKenzie's hair in different light. The streetcar is running late today. The 15:13 train to Mill Creek is late, too.

“I know,” I say, leaning back. I didn't really like Arthur, but I also did. He's in the same class as me and Henry, but his head wasn't on right. It sat crooked and his words didn't fit his mouth. “He's, just, been gone for so long, though. The car isn't going to fix itself, and I don't know how to do it.”

“That doesn't mean he won't be coming back,” Lionel Dennison says.

“I know that, but I want to work on it, and Bill's always busy.”

Arthur sits forward. “You got nothing to worry about. Your dad's strong. Like Superman.”

“Not Captain America?” asks Lionel.

“No, that's Mr. Clay.”

“The butcher? Why?” I ask.

“He doesn't let Japs or kikes in his store,” Arthur says,. “That's why he's like Captain America.”

“Well, what about Charlie's dad?”

“What about Whizzer? He walks really fast sometimes.”

“Whizzer?” I ask. “Whizzer? Hop Harrigan's better than him.”

“Harrigan doesn't have superpowers,” Arthur says.

“That makes him better,” I says. “I like Hop way more than freaking Whizzer.” If Momma heard me swear, she would beat me.

The doors open behind us. “What's happening?” Henry sits down beside us, stretching his legs out as he groans. His fingers are caked in chalk dust. “Uuuuuuuugh, Momma's gonna kill me.”

“Ms. Lewis doesn't like you.”

“She doesn't like a lot of things,” Henry sighs. He reaches out in front of him, rolling his hands through the air, and he takes in a breath. I like Henry. He's the kind of person to look up into a tree and see the stars from anywhere in it. Momma said his head was just right, and I believed her on that. “The train's not here.” He was always very focused on the trains passing through. I think he liked the timing of them, how they ran on schedule.

The train tracks cut alongside Pottersville, which wasn't very big to begin with. Town was on one side of the tracks, and the Red River was on the other. The river is brown and sludgy, and I don't think it moves much like the big river by Mill Creek. The train tracks are black and gray. Pottersville was green in spring and gray in winter, but I liked it. Town is snuggled into a hill, but not like places where the houses are stacked on top of each other like in some of the National Geographic magazines Bill gets from the library. The town is on a good hill for sledding, and then right after River Rock Road, it shoots into the sky and then the mines are on top. The railroad had train sheds along the river to fix their locomotives. A lot of trains passed through heading to Mill Creek and Allisport. Mostly freight trains, but the occasional passenger train going through. It always smelled like burnt metal and oil. There's another little railway above us. It's smaller, like train toys, and runs along wooden bridges. They mine something in the hills.

“What'd she make you do?”

“First it was clapping the erasers, then it was sweeping the classroom. She assigned me extra homework, too.” Henry groans. “I didn't even do anything this time.”

“You were laughing when Betty was reading,” Lionel says.

“I wasn't laughing,” he says, ears a little pink. Henry was easy to read. I like that about him. It made him simple, like watching Papa fix the car. It's like he knew everything back to front. “She, just – I don't know! I wasn't laughing.”

“I believe you,” I say. “You wouldn't do that. You're not that kind of guy.”

“Oh!” Arthur drops himself beside me, grinning. “Guess what my momma bought me.” He didn't let anyone guess. “A bonified kick scooter.”

“A real one?” I ask. “But you just painted the one you built, and I liked that one.”

Arthur waves me off. “This one's aluminum, not wood. Runs smoother than dad's car.”

I groan. “I want Papa to come back. The car's just sitting there, and I want to work on it.”

“Why doesn't my dad come and help you?” asks Henry. “He works in the repair shops.”

“He wasn't drafted?” I ask. I had an idea of what that meant, but didn't really know what it actually meant. The way everyone talked about it, I thought it was like when the teacher called you to the board when you didn't want to. A lot of the men in town were drafted. Everyone was sad about that. “I thought he volunteered with Papa.”

Henry shakes his head. He taps the side of his head. “He did, but the army didn't want him. Something about his brain. Or his heart. I don't remember.”

I snort.

The school doors open again. “I am sure you have better things to do than loiter,” Ms. Lewis says. “Especially you, Henry.”

“I didn't laugh at her!” he says. “I swear.”

“No swearing. Regardless, go home. See you all on Monday. Have a good weekend.” She turns and goes back inside.

Lionel tilts his head from one side to the other. “Well, I got things to do, anyways.” He grins. “Going to go try Arthur's new scooter.”

“You won't! Not if I get to it first!” Lionel and Arthur take off down Broad Street, down the sloped road towards the railroad lines. Arthur turns back and waves at us. “Can we come over for the Lone Ranger tomorrow?”

“Yes!”

Arthur throws his fists in the air, jumping a little, before running after Lionel. He grabs an apple from the general store's cart display. Arthur wobbles when he runs. It made me wonder if growth spurts made people walk funny.

Henry stands not long after they left. “Want to go home?”

I shrug. “Bill's at work right now.”

“You can hang out at my house if you want?”

I stand. “I'm okay with that. Only because your dog likes me more than you.”

Henry puffs out his cheeks, sneering at me. He didn't have to say anything, because I smile and follow him off the front steps. The 15:13 train to Mill Creek pulls into the station, and Henry smiles.