CHAPTER FIVE
THE SNACK BAR
Nutrition classes were suspended for the duration of the emergency.
“You’ll learn more through actual experience now,” Miss Pearson toldthem, “than I could teach you in many lessons.”
Kitty spent as much time as possible during the next three days helpingto feed the homeless cannery workers and their families. Tuesdayevening she was much too weary to go to the regular USO party, and soshe had no opportunity to see Brad till the following Saturday.
By that time her excitement over the fire had cooled, and she wasafraid he would think her silly to accuse the strange sailor of havinganything to do with it. A score of times she had heard her father say,“When in doubt say nothing.” So she wisely followed his advice.
There was so much work to be done in the closing days of the nutritionclass that she had no time to think of anything else. The course hadopened up to her a whole new world of practical interest.
“I can’t believe we’ve learned so much in two weeks,” she said to Lanaand Vera.
“I’m surely glad Miss Pearson taught us every day, instead of once aweek as they do in some places,” said Vera.
“I’ll say,” agreed Lana. “It’s much better to do it in two weeksinstead of ten.”
“And it’s been so much fun, too,” said Kitty. “Only think of the placeswe’ve visited—packing plants, canneries, bakeries, restaurantkitchens. It’s so interesting to learn about all the food industriesaround this part of the country.”
“I’ve got a whole notebook full of recipes, and ideas about food I canput to good use when my Jim comes back from Italy,” said Vera.
“Huh,” laughed Kitty, “I don’t have to wait for anybody to come back.”
Lana laughed too. “That’s right. You have a dad and little brother toexperiment on right now.”
On the last evening, as they were going over to class, Kitty said toher two pals, “Strange, but I don’t feel a bit nervous over the exam.”
“It’s been so practical and interesting there’s no sense in anyonebeing nervous,” Vera agreed.
“I wish I felt as certain as you two,” said Lana, who was still poringover her tables of vitamins and caloric values.
At this final meeting all except three members of the class signed upto go on with the Canteen work, though Kitty and her two friends werethe only ones from Palmetto Island. Kitty felt a real glow of pridewhen she received her certificate at the conclusion of the course. Eachmember of the class was also given a recipe book to help with her ownhome menus.
The Canteen course that followed immediately under Mrs. Evans gavequite a different kind of instruction. The brief experience they hadalready had in emergency feeding made them keenly appreciative of allthe phases of the Canteen instruction. Step by step they discussed allthe angles of the work; planning menus for large scale feeding, foodpreparation, and here the course they had just taken was of invaluableaid. They also discussed methods of food service and how to keep aCanteen orderly and spotless. Kitty was one of the group who receivedsome practical experience in serving food at the blood donation centertwice a week.
Two days before this course ended there was a railroad wrecktwenty-five miles from town. Kitty went with the mobile canteen tosupply food for the rescue crew who were working to clear the woundedfrom the wreck. It happened to be Hazel Dawson’s day off, and she, too,went in the Red Cross station wagon, and worked like a trooper, givingfirst aid to the wounded.
“Tired?” asked Hazel gently as they were riding home in the Red Crosscar at ten o’clock that night.
“I didn’t know I was tired till I sat down,” Kitty admitted. “ButHazel, isn’t it wonderful to be able to help people at a time likethis?”
“There’s nothing in life quite so wonderful. You have the spirit of areal Canteen worker, Kitty. It’s a privilege to feed men’s bodies whenthey’re hungry, but it’s still more wonderful to give comfort to theirsouls and anxious minds as I saw you doing several times today.”
Kitty had had no greater sense of pride when she donned her cap andgown at graduation than she felt the day she was entitled to wear herCanteen uniform the first time. She was going over to Bayport to meet atroop train with several of the workers.
The Belgian blue poplin dress made her bright eyes seem all the bluer.Her heart was beating proudly when she arranged her cap behind theauburn hair rolled softly into a pompadour. She had a feeling of realpride in those red crosses on her pocket and the white band of her cap.Some day she meant to earn service bars, too. Mrs. Evans wore a chevronand three bars, representing seven years of service.
Although the girls did not wear their uniforms at the Snack Bar, Kittydonned the official apron she was allowed to wear there on the firstevening after finishing her course. Though she had done much volunteerwork at the bar she felt somewhat elated tonight over being afull-fledged Canteen worker.
She was in an expansive mood and said as she and Judy were slicingbread for sandwiches, “Let’s make ’em extra large, with plenty ofstuffing just to celebrate our graduation.”
“You might make that special dressing you were telling me about,” Judysuggested.
“May I, Mrs. Evans?” Kitty asked.
“Of course. The boys always enjoy something different.”
Kitty had learned to make a tart creole sauce for sandwich filling fromtheir cook in New Orleans, so she prepared a bowlful. By the time theboys began to drift into the hall the air was fragrant with coffee andchocolate, and trays of sandwiches were ready.
Brad, knowing it was Kitty’s initiation night, was one of the firstbluejackets to plant his elbows on the counter and demand a sandwich.
“And a cupa cawfee, too, wench, and be snappy about it!” he said withmock gruffness.
She made a face at him as she turned to get the coffee.
After one bite of the sandwich Brad’s eyes bulged. “Oh boy! This tasteslike something from Toni’s swanky joint in New Orleans.”
Kitty laughed in delight. “Our old cook used to work at Toni’s. Shegave me lots of his secrets.”
Jimmy Barnes sat beside Brad taking huge bites of a sandwich. Heenthusiastically added his praise to Brad’s. “Boy, but this is reallyseasoned up like home cooking.”
“About the best seasoning they give us up at the hospital is the shrimpcreole.”
“And they only have that about twice a month,” added Jimmy in disgust.
Kitty’s curiosity stirred. Maybe this was her chance to learn somethingabout the staff in the galley.
“Do you know the cooks very well?” she asked.
“Only a passing acquaintance,” said Brad. “Our Chief Commissary Stewardis named Krome—an old timer at the job.”
“I saw a thin, dark-looking chap on the bus the other night with acrescent on his arm. Do you happen to know him?”
“Quite a number down there,” said Jimmy dubiously. “Only one I’vetalked to very often is a fair young chap, named Ned Miller.”
“There’s one named Punaro fits your description,” Brad told Kitty. “Heempties wastebaskets on our floor.”
“Right young—about eighteen or nineteen?” Kitty persisted.
“About that. Only been in a few months. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. I just happened to see him the other day on the bus.”
A few minutes later Brad and Jimmy went off to play a game of pingpongwith some of the girls and for the next hour Kitty was very busy at thebar. Later during a lull in their business she glanced down the halland noticed that Lieutenant Cary was playing chess with someone in thesouth corner of the room. They were about the only two who had notpatronized the Snack Bar during the evening.
“What’s so interesting over there?” Brad’s teasing tone jolted Kittyout of her curious speculation.
“Who’s that playing chess with Lieutenant Cary?” she asked in a lowtone.
Brad glanced to the south
corner of the room and replied, “Krome.”
“You mean the head cook up at the hospital?”
“What’s so surprising about that?”
“Somehow I thought Lieutenant Cary would be too snippity to play chesswith the cook.”
“Why Krome’s Chief Commissary Steward. Lieutenant Cary has no reason tobe high-hat to him. He was in the service long before Cary ever thoughtof such a thing.”
“Is that so?”
“Sure.”
“But Dr. Cary is a lieutenant.”
“Just the same he’s only been in the service a few months. He’s one ofthe physicians recently recruited.”
“Oh, I see,” murmured Kitty in a significant tone. Then she asked, “Doyou know anything about the cook?”
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_“What’s So Interesting There?” Brad Asked_]
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Brad laughed. “I know he can dish up some mighty good chow on occasion.”
“He looks as though he didn’t object to good eating himself. He mustweigh two hundred and twenty-five at least.” Kitty tried to make hertone seem trivial in case anyone else had overheard their conversation.
“I’ll be trotting along,” Brad said. “I promised to make a fourth forbridge over yonder.”
Kitty held his eyes a moment and lowered her voice to say, “There’ssomething I want to talk to you about when I have a chance.”
“I’ll see you home if you can get through before eleven. We can talk onthe way up.”
“Fine,” she agreed.
Brad had scarcely taken his seat with the other players when LieutenantCary and Chief Krome came toward the bar.
Excitedly Kitty whispered to Judy, “Let me wait on them if they comehere.”
Judy sent her a surprised look. “You’re welcome to them. I wouldn’t beinterested.”
“Neither am I, in the way you think,” retorted Kitty with a laugh.
She thought what an odd pair they made as they came toward the SnackBar. Lieutenant Cary was as lean and alert as a bloodhound, while thesquare-rigged Krome was almost a head shorter. Kitty would have feltcurious about any man who was friendly with Lieutenant Cary, even ifher curiosity had not already been stirred by one of Krome’sassistants, so that the association brought the Chief Steward undersuspicion also.
Vera came out of the kitchen just as the two men straddled the stoolsat the counter and she took Lieutenant Cary’s order. Kitty’s hand was alittle unsteady as she poured Krome’s cup of coffee.
“We have some special sandwiches tonight,” Judy explained to the twocustomers, “made by our new Canteen worker, Miss Kitty Carter.”
“I’ll take two,” Krome spoke up promptly.
When Kitty faced the head cook squarely he seemed such a hearty,good-natured sort her suspicions evaporated like the steam above hiscoffee cup.
“So you’re now a full-fledged Canteen worker.” Though Lieutenant Cary’ssmile and words were friendly enough his tone held a slight cynicism.
“I wasn’t a bit prouder when I donned my cap and gown at graduationfrom college, than when I put on my uniform the first time,” she saidfrankly.
“They got something when they got you, young lady,” spoke up Kromewarmly. “These sandwiches ain’t to be sneezed at.”
“Why, I’m thrilled that you think so! They tell me you can serve somevery good things over at the hospital, and I can vouch for it myselfthe few times I’ve eaten there.”
“So you’re Chief Carter’s daughter?”
“And proud I am to have the honor.”
Krome finished the last crumb of his sandwich, and said, “How aboutgiving me the recipe for that sandwich filling?”
Kitty looked disconcerted. “If you feed the boys on it at the hospitalthey may not want our sandwiches down here.”
“I’ll promise not to do that.”
Kitty laughed. “Oh, really, I wouldn’t be that selfish. You’re welcometo the recipe. And maybe you’d do me a favor in return.”
Krome looked surprised. “Me do you a favor?” he asked, indicatinghimself, then Kitty with his fat hand. Then he laughed as if it were agreat joke.
“I heard the boys talking about your grand shrimp creole—and that theydon’t get it often enough. How about giving me that recipe?”
“Oh, that? Sure. We’ll swap recipes then. I’ll bring it next time Icome.”
When the men had gone Judy said with a sniff, “If you ever get a recipeout of him you’ll do better than Mrs. Evans has. He’s promised herseveral and never brought them.”
“Maybe he’ll pay more attention to my request if he wants a recipe fromme.”
At ten-thirty when Kitty put on her light wrap to go home she wasreally tired. But how glowingly happy she felt at the realization thather job had been well done! Brad was waiting for her.
Though it was only March there was more than a hint of spring in thebalmy night air, and the stars seemed close and warm in a sky like deeppurple porcelain. Neither of them spoke while they walked the firstblock.
Then Brad said, “You wanted to ask me about something?”
“Yes, I did. But somehow it seems absurd to be suspicious of anyone ona night like this.”
“Well, forget it.” After an interval he asked, “Think you’re going toenjoy the Canteen work?”
“I’m crazy about it. But really it seems so little to do when there’sso much to be done.”
“It’s all the little bits put together that’s going to help us win thiswar.”
“And prepare us to live in a more wonderful peace afterward. It’slearning to work together that’s so important.”
“One person pulling in the wrong direction can upset the whole works.”
Kitty made no reply, but she thought he must know what was on her mindeven before he added, “I figure you’ve been wondering why Krome andCary seem so intimate.”
“You hit the nail on the head!”
“We’ve both put a big question mark behind Cary, and when we see Kromebuddying with him he gets a question mark, too.”
“Not only Krome.”
“That chap, Punaro, you were asking about?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s he done?”
“I’ve hesitated a long time about mentioning it. It may seem I’mstraining at a gnat.”
“Let’s have it,” he urged.
“You do hate to suspect people of being spies and saboteurs, especiallywhen they’re right in the hospital with your own father.”
“All the more reason you shouldn’t take any chances.”
Quickly Kitty gave Brad an account of the little incident on the busthree weeks earlier. “It seems sort of absurd now that I’m talkingabout it for the first time to think the boy might have had anything todo with the fire at the oyster cannery, but that’s exactly what I havebeen thinking.”
“I don’t think your suspicions are unfounded.”
“If he used gasoline or kerosene to start that fire it was still freshenough to flame up from those cigar ashes. And he certainly did get onthe bus right at the cannery station.”
“If that fire was the work of saboteurs the objective was no doubt theshipyards, not the cannery.”
They walked on to Kitty’s door in silence. Then Brad said, “I sure wishyou’d told me about this when it happened.”
“Why? I can’t see that we can do anything.”
“Maybe I could have managed to get a squint at Punaro’s shoes.”
“Punaro’s shoes? But the gasoline, or whatever it was, had alreadyburned off.”
“But shell dust would still have been on the soles next morning.”
“Say—that’s so! I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You know all that land around the cannery has been built up of oystershells,” explained Brad. “It was once only a marshy bog they tell me.If Punaro set that fir
e he’d be obliged to get shell dust on his shoes.”
“The only paved sidewalk runs along the street where the bus stopped,”explained Kitty. “I noticed that the day we went over to open theCanteen.”
“There’s a possibility I might still find out something.”
“How?”
“He probably stopped wearing those shoes with the burned stain. If hediscarded them right away they’d probably still bear the evidence ofshell dust.”
“And even if you found out he’d really been there, Brad, where would ittake us?”
“I don’t know, but you can just be sure, Kit, I’m not going to let athing like this slide by.”
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