Chapter 38
ETHEL
Miniature American flags were handed to each person as they entered the courtroom.
“Welcome to the naturalization ceremony, and congratulations. Please come in and stay standing for the Pledge of Allegiance,” said the officer of the court, parked by the door with a jovial grin.
Men, women, and a few children shuffled in behind the Gathers family, donned in their best dresses, slacks, and ties.
The room swelled to stuffy and full. Ethel could barely keep a straight face: Oti’s six-year-old voice was the loudest and proudest as he recited the Pledge of Allegiance.
She rewarded him with a pat to his head as they took their seats.
Bert sat at one end of the spectators’ bench, with all eight children sandwiched between them.
The judge was only a few moments into his presentation about the rights and responsibilities of becoming an American citizen when Ethel touched Mia’s foot to keep her from kicking the chair, disturbing the man in front of her.
As she scanned the room, she saw about thirty people present, all of European descent.
Ethel could feel the electricity of their hopes and dreams, and the honor they felt in becoming American citizens.
She told herself to breathe it all in too.
It was just a few years ago that she had started the Brown Baby Plan with the vision that half-American children could have the same rights as all Americans, and here she was with her own receiving their certification of citizenship.
The judge ended his presentation by asking for persons over the age of fourteen to please rise for the Oath of Allegiance.
Franz was the only of their children old enough, and Ethel watched as Bert smoothed down Franz’s collar with a nod of approval.
With his hand raised and his shoulders erect, Franz recited the oath that he had practiced all week.
Once the group finished, everyone clapped, and then a woman in a pleated dress stood at the podium with a pitch pipe to her lips and blew a note.
When she opened her mouth, the most beautiful rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner” sprang free, bringing tears to a few eyes.
After more applause, the judge called out the names of the new citizens.
Ethel held Anton’s and Mia’s hands, and Bert snapped pictures as the judge presented them with their naturalization certificate.
A lump formed in Ethel’s throat as she watched each one of her children shake the judge’s hand and take their certificate. They had done it. All eight of the Gathers children were official American citizens, praise be and hallelujah!
“Mommy,” Anke said, interrupting her prayer. “Wave your flag.”
Ethel looked around and saw that the new citizens and their family were all waving their flags as the woman belted out “America the Beautiful.”
“Congratulations to you all,” the judge said, and bade them good day.
Once they reached the curb, Bert took Ethel’s hand in his. “I’m glad that I got to witness this and that it didn’t happen while I was over in Korea.”
“Me too. I couldn’t imagine having the ceremony without you.” Ethel stroked his cheek.
On top of all the thoughts rolling around in her head, she didn’t want to add Bert being deployed to Korea to the list. Even though he was leaving in five days, she just wanted to relish this special moment with her family the best she could.
“Can we go get some ice cream?” asked Monika. “Please, Daddy.” She squeezed Bert’s hand.
“Or a hot dog with onions and sauerkraut,” said Heinz, touching his belly. The boy ate just as much as he had when he first moved in with Ethel and Bert, and while he had grown taller, she still wondered where he put all the food.
“I think that can be arranged.” Bert looked at Ethel, who rolled her eyes in a way that said, You are such a pushover.
“But ice cream first,” said Oti, and they all burst out laughing.
Bert’s flight to Korea was scheduled for the following Wednesday.
He had left a two-page instruction sheet on how and when to pay the mortgage and all the utilities, and whom to call if Ethel had issues with the maintenance of any appliances, plumbing, or electricity.
Even though he had left her many times in Germany for maneuvers and special education training, it was the first time he was going overseas without his family, and Ethel could tell he was uneasy.
“We will be fine,” she assured him.
“Nine months feels like such a long time. They are going to grow so much while I’m gone.”
“I’ll send pictures, and we’ll sit down to write you every Sunday.”
Bert pulled Ethel into his arms and held her flat against his chest. They stayed like that, holding on to each other and swaying.
Three days later, a horn beeped, and Bert called to the children, telling them it was time for him to go. They all grabbed for their piece of him, wrapping skinny arms around his waist, his legs, his arms.
The horn tooted twice this time, and the kids shouted a slew of “Goodbye” and “We’ll miss you” and then scattered. Ethel walked him to the door.
“Oh, and don’t forget to check the mail. There’re a few pieces on the coffee table with your name on them.”
“Got it.” She kissed him one last time and then watched as the sedan pulled away from the curb.
Bert hadn’t been gone longer than two minutes when Anke cornered Ethel in the kitchen. “Can you paint my nails?” She held up a bottle of Pepto-pink polish. Her hair was frizzy and loose from her braid.
“You can’t wear nail polish to school.”
“Emily does it all the time.”
“Well, I’m not Emily’s mom. I follow the rules.” Ethel carried the Tupperware containing leftover cabbage and placed it in the fridge.
“What about my toenails?” Anke opened the bottle and sniffed. “I’ll paint yours, and then you can paint mine.”
Ethel smiled. “Come on here, girl.”
They plopped down on the sofa in the family room with Anke’s feet in Ethel’s lap.
While Ethel brushed pink onto her toes, Anke caught Ethel up on the happenings in her third-grade class.
“Van had his name on the board with three strikes. Sister Therese took away his recess and sent him into the hall to clap the erasers. For the rest of the day, his blue pants had chalk on them, and he couldn’t get it off. ”
“Well, hopefully, he has learned his lesson.”
When Monika and Mia saw Anke getting her toenails painted, they took off their socks too.
Ethel picked up the mail from the coffee table and fanned one envelope over each girl’s feet.
After ten minutes of Monika’s fifth-grade gossip, Ethel declared, “All dry. Please make sure you say your prayers before bed.” She tickled Mia and sent them each upstairs with a forehead kiss.
Exhausted, Ethel moved to the recliner. She had intended to read a few pages of the December issue of the newspaper Freedom, published by Paul Robeson, but then she looked at the letters in her hand.
One was from the library with a red stamp that said “Overdue,” and she racked her brain for which of the children’s books she had forgotten to return.
Then a pale blue envelope, postmarked from Germany, caught her eye.
Ethel grinned: It was a new letter from Julia, and she ripped it open.