Bangs

A recent assignment from an on-line class was to write something in the voice of a female child. My very earliest memory is of the day Daddy came home from WWII, but not for the reason one would expect. That memory is the basis of the following creative nonfiction piece. Somehow it seems appropriate to post it while I remember Daddy on Veterans Day.

Bangs

“When can I have bangs?”

“When your daddy gets home. It won’t be much longer now, we hope.”

“How long? Will he be here tomorrow? Can I have bangs then?”

“No, not tomorrow. His unit is supposed to ship out soon. In the last V-Mail he wrote that he’ll call us from New York, when they get back from France. We’ll cut your hair after he gets home, but I want him to see how your long hair curls on the ends before we cut it.”

Then Mother showed me the picture again, just like she’s done every time we talk about Daddy. There we are, the three of us. Daddy’s picture is on the left. It’s hard to really remember everything about Daddy, because I was really little when he left. Mother said Uncle Sam called him and he had to go. I still don’t know who Uncle Sam is, because he’s never been to our house like Uncle James and Uncle Warren. She said Uncle Sam gave Daddy the uniform he’s wearing in the picture. It was scratchy when he hugged me goodbye.

Mother’s picture is on the right. She has on her pretty blouse that I like, the one she wears for something special. When she holds me in her lap it feels so soft and smooth. She says it’s made of silk. When I grow up I’m going to have a silk blouse. Sometimes she lets me play with one of her old scarves. I wrap it around me and pretend it is a blouse just like hers. One time when I was playing dress-up, I took her red lipstick so I could be pretty, too, like she is in the picture. I didn’t mean to ruin it, but it broke. When I tried to put it back together, my fingers got all messy, and I had to wipe the lipstick off on the towel in the bathroom. Mother wasn’t happy about that, either.

My picture is in the middle. Before we had our pictures made, Mother washed my hair, curled it, and put a bow in it that matched my dress. Uncle James and Uncle Warren gave me the dress. Mother says it is warm because it’s made from wool. She says wool comes from sheep. I know about Mary and her little lamb, but I’ve never seen a real lamb or sheep. PaPa has cows and pigs on his farm, but no sheep. In the pictures in my Little Golden Book, Mary’s lamb is white. Are some sheep pink? My dress is pink. Grandma says the little flowers on it were ‘broidered, with a needle, like when she made flowers on my pillowcase. I don’t get to wear the dress anymore because it’s too little now. Mother says I’m growing like a weed and that Daddy will hardly know me. She sends him pictures so he’ll know how much I’ve grown in over a year.

I hope he comes home soon, because I really, really want bangs. Some of the big girls have short hair, not long like mine. Mother says we can’t cut my hair until Daddy comes home. One of the girls that stays with me sometimes has bangs. She is in high school. She has long hair, but she has bangs in front. I want some just like that.

***

 Daddy is getting home today! Mother told me that he’d be here today. She was teaching Sunday School at the Methodist Church last Sunday when the call came. Miss Bertha, the phone operator, knew where she would be, so she put the call through to the parsonage next door and sent Mr. Dewey to the church to tell Mother to go to the phone. I was in the Sunday School room next to where Mother and the grown-ups were, so I heard them clap their hands. They were glad Daddy was coming home, too.

Mother and I have been living at Mrs. Clark’s house while Daddy is gone. Two other women and their children live here, too, while their husbands are overseas, wherever that is. Robert is only a little older than me. We play together sometimes, but he wants to play soldier, and I want to play with my dolls. Everyone here is so busy today. They are making a cake because Daddy is coming home. We hardly ever have cake. Mother says it is because they can’t get sugar. She said they all saved their coupons so Robert and I could have birthday cakes. I don’t know how those little pieces of paper have anything to do with sugar. They talk about rationing, but I don’t know what that is, either. Anyway, Mrs. White put a pretty white cloth on the table, and the special plates, too.

***

Daddy got here this afternoon. When he hugged me tight his uniform was scratchy just like when he left. He danced me around and around until I was almost dizzy. “My big girl, you’ve gotten so big,” he said. He laughed when I said I was ready for my cake now, and told me that I would have to wait until the other people got here. It seems like someone is always telling me to wait. When Daddy called me his “pretty girl” and stroked my hair, Mother didn’t even tell him I was getting bangs.

In a little while the house was full of people. Everyone came to see Daddy. Mrs. Clark cut the cake and Miss Doris gave everyone punch in fancy glass cups. After I finished my cake, no one paid any attention to me.

Mother promised me I could have bangs when Daddy got home. He’d been home all afternoon but no one took me to the beauty shop to get my hair cut. So I went to my room, picked up my little scissors, then hid behind the door. I untied the bow, and held the hair that fell across my face. Snip, snip. I had bangs! I held the long section of blonde hair in my hand. Mother wouldn’t like it if I left it on the floor, but I didn’t know where to put it. Then I saw my tea set on my little table. The salmon colored teapot was perfect. I rolled the hair into a wad, hid it inside, and put the lid back on the teapot.

I went back to the living room to show everyone my bangs. When Mother saw me, she said “Oh, baby, what have you done?”

“Baby? I’m not a baby. I’m Daddy’s big girl and I have bangs like the big girls, don’t I, Daddy?”

Daddy laughed. Then he picked me up and swung me around so everyone could see my beautiful new bangs.