The Day of the Pelican - Page 28

"He owned a food market," Mehmet answered.

"Oh," said Mr. Craven, and the tone of the "oh" meant that Baba's previous occupation was of no help in his new situation. With no English, he could not even clerk in someone else's grocery store. Finally, after weeks of trudging the streets and standing in line at the employment office, Mr. Craven found a little downtown restaurant that needed a dishwasher. The owner agreed to give Baba a try. Adona went with him the first day so that she could help the owner explain everything to Baba. From then on, he was on his own. A little of the old Baba shone through when he told the children about his new job. "The church people agreed to sponsor us only until we could get settled," he said. "We have to begin taking responsibility for ourselves." Still, even working long hours every day, his pay was poor—not nearly enough after taxes to pay the family bills—so they remained dependent on the welcomers. Meli liked "welcomers" better than "church people." That reminded her too much of the Serbs.

It was hard to explain American things to Baba. Although Adona had told the welcomers about taking off shoes when they came into Leshis' apartment, sometimes they forgot. It was very hard for Baba not to look shocked when some big American tromped around with the same shoes on that he ha

d worn in the street.

"It's the American way, Baba," Mehmet said. "They don't mean to be rude."

Baba would shake his head. "It's a very strange way," he said.

Even stranger was trying to tell Baba about Hell-o-ween. The younger children had come home from school all excited about dressing up and putting on masks and touring the neighborhood for gifts of candy—especially the candy part.

"No," said Baba. "Absolutely not. Even if we are poor, we do not beg."

"Everybody does it," Isuf said. "Not just poor children. Everyone."

"Baba," Mehmet said, "it's like in Kosovo when the children ask for candy on the holidays. No different."

"What kind of people hide their faces? Only people who plan bad things—people who are ashamed of what they are doing. Not my family. Not my children. No."

The men who burned the farm hid their faces, thought Meli, but she hoped by now Isuf had forgotten that day.

"And," Isuf went on stubbornly, "we have to buy candy to give to the children who come here."

"We have no money for candy," Baba said. "Not even for our own children."

Isuf was beside himself. "If we don't go out and we don't give candy, what will I say at school? People will think we don't know about Hell-o-ween."

"People will be right. We don't know," said Baba.

"Maybe," Mama said quietly, "we should find out about this strange holiday."

Mehmet did and learned that on Main Street all the stores gave out candy to children on Hell-o-ween afternoon. "But it's called 'Halloween,' not 'Hell-o-ween.' And no one thinks it's begging. I'll take the boys and Vlora downtown while you're at work."

"No masks!" Baba said.

The children didn't care about the masks. They were so thrilled to be allowed to take part in the candy collecting. Mehmet gave each of them a little bag that was filled to the brim in less than half an hour. Then he marched them home.

"Now," he said, "each of you must give me your candy."

Adil groaned.

"Why?" asked Vlora.

"You always want to tell everyone what to do," complained Isuf.

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have any candy. Now hand it over. We have to save some to give away tonight, and the rest we'll put in a jar and it will last a long time."

***

The next holiday was something called Thanksgiving, but they were allowed to take part without argument, as Baba approved of thanking God for their safety and health and shelter and food. They were invited to a huge dinner at one of the local churches—not the one that their welcomers had come from, but some of them were there anyway, dishing out plates of turkey and potatoes and green beans and something they called "stuffing" and a bright red sweet gelatin that went with the meat. Then afterward they had pie and coffee.

"When do they thank God?" Baba asked Mehmet.

"At the beginning, when people shut their eyes, that was it."

"They don't kneel to pray here?"

Tags: Katherine Paterson Historical
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