THE JASPER E. CONRAD

ARKANSAS REFORMATORY FOR GIRLS

BOLTON, ARKANSAS

I bounced my knee in a steady motion trying to will the clock hands to go faster. It was Monday, the day I would be leaving the reformatory. You'd think they would have let me out this past weekend, but my time wasn't complete until Sunday. And they don't let anyone do anything but chapel on Sunday. So to conclude my visit at the reformatory, I had to go to another pointless service adding insult to injury.

Miss Laud stood in the corner, and I glanced anxiously at the newspaper in her hands. I was feeling especially anxious because I had sent Charlene a review of the reformatory to print in the Sunday paper which she had. I didn't want Miss Laud to read it while I was still in her hands. She would've done anything to prolong my "visit."

I looked out the window toward the road beyond the barbed wire fence. At any moment, the bus would be pulling up. No one had mentioned who would be collecting me from the reformatory. My nerves were on edge. As much as I wanted to leave that place, I really didn't want to go home to my mother and father's cold stairs and unloving arms. Sharon, I could deal with. I kind of missed her actually. But I didn't miss everyone acting like she was Miss Shirley Temple and calling her the "Good Bergen Girl" or the "Pretty Bergen Girl."

Miss Laud watched me from her perch in the corner making sure I didn't leave a second before it was time. Technically, my time was up. But someone had to collect me because I wasn't eighteen. If it were up to my parents, they would have just left me in there. But it costs money if we stay any longer than the state intends. Can you believe that parents actually sent their kids there? Just as I had begun to dwell on that for too long, the noisy sound of the bus grabbed my attention. I hopped up to look out the window ignoring Miss Laud's protests that I sit there like a lady and wait.

The bus eased its way to the gate and stopped. Seconds later, two figures that I recognized made me practically jump through the window.

"It's my grandparents!" I said not caring that it was to Miss Laud.

The bus left the gate, and my grandparents slowly made their way down the long path to the reformatory. They looked slightly scared by the place which I admit definitely looked like a prison not a school. When they appeared in the doorway, I threw my arms around both of them while they smothered me in kisses. It obviously didn't matter to them that I had been in a reformatory for the past nine weeks.

"Where are mother, father, and Sharon?" I asked out of curiosity rather than actually wanting their presence. Well, except for Sharon, of course.

"We figured it would be best for you to stay with us for a little while," Grandma answered. It was obvious that there was more to the story. My parents still hadn't got over the fact that I had helped a "Nazi."

Union Station

Memphis, Tennessee

The Buick was waiting for us in the parking lot where Grandma and Grandpa had left it earlier that morning. I didn't have much luggage, just one suitcase to be exact. I rode in the back of the car as Grandma and Grandpa chatted about weather and things of that sort. They had run out of things to say to me on the train ride through Arkansas. What could I say? There really wasn't that much to tell. I didn't want to remember my experience back at the reformatory.

The drive into East Memphis left my in awe. It had been so long since I had seen anything but cement walls. Today was still chilly but acceptable for early March. There was a hint of spring in the atmosphere. There were more people out in the city than usual especially for a weekday. It's always warmer on the other side of the river than it is in Arkansas.

When we arrived at the house, Grandma went straight to the kitchen to begin supper commenting on how thin I looked. Grandpa brought my suitcase up to the guest room despite my protests that it wasn't that heavy. I hated relying on anybody for silly things that I could do myself. It's not that I was overly proud or egotistical; it was just that I didn't want to make them go to all that trouble.

Before dinner, I took a long soak in Grandma's claw foot tub. It was nice not to be forced to shower in front of thirty other girls. I felt like I hadn't been clean in a long time. There was never enough time or soap for thoroughness back at the reformatory. But, here, I put Grandma's bath oils into the tub. There were some that she had bought especially for me when I came over.

Once in the guest room, I put on fresh clothes and combed my hair. If mother saw me then, she would've been shocked. According to her, I never brush my hair adequately. When my hair seemed sufficient, I lay on one of the twin beds. There are two guest bedrooms in my grandparent's house. Normally, Sharon and I share this room. There was another one for other family members. But my mother and father never stayed the night.

The smell of something delicious soon called me back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grandma was making fried chicken, and there were some fresh rolls on the counter. Apparently, they had spent their food rations on my return meal. I felt guilty at the thought, but the feeling soon disappeared after I stuffed one in my mouth. I just couldn't resist.

We all sat down at the table when dinner was ready, and Grandma said a prayer. Things became quiet after we all had food on our plates. I was busy eating what seemed like the tastiest food in the world. When I looked up, Grandma was eying my poor etiquette. I made it a point to eat slower. But it was quite difficult. After a while, I sensed they had something to say. Grandpa had set his fork and knife down.

"Patty," Grandpa began, "We believe its best if you stay here for a while."

"I know, you already told me that. Back at the reformatory, remember?"

Grandma smiled, "We think its best to enroll you in school here. There is an excellent private school where many Jewish girls go."

"Oh," I said not really sure what to say next but, "Okay."

After a moment, I asked, "Is it because things are still unsettled back in Jenkinsville?"

"Well, partly, yes. But we think you would be happier here."

The idea seemed amazing, more than amazing, really. I smiled at the two of them. "I would truly like that."

I had a hard time sleeping that night which was funny because I use to have such a hard time sleeping back at the reformatory. I guess I had just gotten use to it. The bed seemed too soft which is hard to explain. I was grateful, though, after a few nights when I realized what a treat the bed was. Because I would be staying long term, Grandma offered the other guest room to me with the bigger bed. I had to get use to a different bed again! But after a while, that was a treat, too.

Before I went to bed each night, I though of Anton. He was the last thing I thought of before drifting off. I didn't have any more nightmares, thank goodness. But, I still couldn't place the feeling that I was missing something. No matter how hard I tried, the missing thing never came front and center to my mind.

They didn't make me return to school right away. We were waiting two weeks because the following week would be spring break anyway. I guessed it had more to do with the fact that I looked quite malnourished at that point. Whenever, I took a bath, I avoided the mirror. If I wasn't thin before, I was just plain skin and bones now. Amazing what nine weeks can do to a person.

That first Friday, Grandma took me shopping in the city. I tried to refuse the more expensive things she was buying, but she insisted calling me her responsibility. I suspected that she missed having someone to fuss over, though. She also brought up the point that I had spent my thirteenth birthday at the reformatory and that this was her gift to me. We also got school supplies and a uniform which was required at my new school.

The next day, Saturday, I nearly had a heart attack when Grandma and Grandpa informed me that I had to go to Synagogue with them. I didn't want anyone to recognize me and call me the Jew Nazi. I especially didn't want to see my parents. The entire time, I kept my eyes straight forward on the rabbi and sang along to the prayers that were embedded in my mind. By the end, I still felt out of place and felt even more terrible when my parents met us outside.

Sharon immediately threw her arms around me. I guess that she was the only one of them that missed me. My mother gave me the obligatory hug, and my father gave me a curt nod and asked how I was doing. It was as if I was some person they use to know that they didn't want to talk to anymore. They came back to my grandparent's house where we ate pre-made sandwiches.

I didn't say much and just let Sharon do most of the talking. I didn't feel like trying to impress them that day. My mother looked straight at her plate the entire time, and my father stared at something on the wall only talking to my grandparents. When they left, my shoulders sagged in relief, and I had to go upstairs to take a nap. I was exhausted.

Something very interesting happened the following Monday. Charlene Madlee showed up at our door. My grandparents let her in with open arms. Apparently, she had visited frequently while I was away. We had tea and cookies in the living room and exchanged niceties.

"It's lovely to see you," Charlene had told me.

Right then and there, I knew something was up. That just wasn't the way that Charlene Madlee talked to anybody unless she wanted to get her way. If that was the case, I had to wonder what she wanted from me.

"Your pieces in the paper have been doing quite well. Unfortunately, all of them have only made it to the Arkansas addition. But it's still an accomplishment." She reached for her tea cup but knocked it over. "Oh! I apologize. I'm very, very sorry."

While my Grandma rushed to the kitchen for a towel, Charlene turned to me. "How have you really been doing?"

I didn't know how to answer at first. "Well, it's taking some getting use to, especially my bed. It's so soft compared to my bed back at the reformatory."

She nodded respectfully. "Before I read your piece, I would never have suspected that things were that bad there. It was quite… revealing."

I nodded, once again at a loss for words.

"Do you miss him?" Charlene asked suddenly. I always knew that she suspected that there was more to the story than me just helping a German soldier.

"He was my friend," I replied, "My only friend." I unconsciously touched the ring on the chain around my neck.

Charlene eyed the chain but nodded reverently. "I'm so sorry, Patty."

"Thanks, Charlene."

"I'm here for you even though you are the only one who can truly understand your situation. I'm your friend, Patty." The sincerity in her eyes was not meant to me deceitful. I began to feel like I could fully trust Charlene.

I nodded and smiled not trusting my voice. A big lump had settled in the back of my throat.

Grandma came back in the room with a towel and began furiously dabbing at the rug even though the tea had left barely a stain. We talked more about the paper and future pieces. Charlene officially offered me an internship at the Commercial Appeal which I accepted. This meant that I would be able to go with her when she went to investigate or interview people.

Charlene apologized once more on her way out. I followed her out the door when she gave me a subtle nod. On the sidewalk, she lit a cigarette and leaned against her car. She took a few drags. "Do you ever wonder if the police make up evidence in order to get the truth out of people?"

I blinked at her wondering where this topic was coming from. "I'm not sure. I hope not."

"But what if they knew there was something there, but they didn't have the proper evidence. Don't you think they would make something up to get someone to admit to the crime?"

After thinking on it a minute, I replied, "I guess it's certainly possible."

"Hmmm," was all she said before stamping out her cigarette on the sidewalk. She opened the car door and got in. Before she closed it, I heard her call out, "Take care, Patty."

Charlene drove off while I stood in the chilly air squinting after her car. That night, while I was thinking about Anton, an idea occurred to me. It was something that had never occurred to me before, and I could have kicked myself for not realizing it until then.