I never wanted—no, stop.
She closed her eyes, tried to banish the sick feeling that slithered around her stomach as she thought about Ma’s troubles. At least Dr. McCubbin made it sound like she would be fine after a few days with her feet up. In the distance the rumble of the doc’s automobile revved, but she stayed, savoring the feeling of the sun warming her. Her breath slowed. Her toes splayed out as the cords of her legs loosened. It felt as though she were drifting on one of the clouds overhead.
And then she was running again, surrounded by people smiling and cheering. Hands waved in the air, applauding. She ran and burst through a finish ribbon; a sensation of silk slipped across her chest and arms, almost like walking through a spiderweb. Someone handed her a silver winner’s cup and she held it aloft. It glimmered in the sunlight, blinding her as she turned in a circle so everyone could see. She basked in the crowd’s joy. Hands patted her shoulder. The warmth of victory suffused every inch of her.
Everyone wanted her.
Her eyes cracked open to see blue sky but she closed them again, eager to hold on to the sense that everyone loved her. A line from one of the newspapers about the Olympics came back to her, the typed words drifting across her mind’s eye the same way clouds floated across the sky. When notified by phone, Mr. Robinson said of his daughter reaching the finals, “She’s the greatest girl in the world. I’m the happiest man alive.”
A searing pinch scorched the soft inside of Helen’s forearm and she smacked it reflexively with her other hand. A horsefly lay on its back next to where her arm had been resting, its legs still twitching slightly. Helen pulled her knees into her chest. The race, the crowds—it all felt so real. Her finger pads still tingled with the feeling of the smooth silver of the winner’s cup.
Surrounded as she was by parched fields and cornstalks, Amsterdam felt mighty far away, but still. The vision of the race was trying to tell her something. Though the papers had made such a fuss about Betty being young, Helen was even younger. She had time. Maybe she could overcome all the ways she had disappointed everyone. What could she do to make people proud of her? How would it feel to make Pa the happiest man alive? She clambered to her feet. The first thing she could do was go back to the house and make Ma a cup of tea.
Part 2
July 1931–December 1932
THE CHICAGO EVENING STANDARD
July 5, 1931
“Betty Robinson Defeated by Stella Walsh”
Lady Athletes Look Forward to Olympics in Los Angeles
Dallas—After a history-making series of recent victories, the tide has turned for Chicago’s hometown sprinting champion, Betty Robinson. She returned home today disappointed after running into stiff competition in the form of Cleveland’s Stella Walsh at the National AAU Championships held in Dallas yesterday at Southern Methodist University Stadium. The two girls raced the sprint as if their lives depended on it, but in the last few yards, Walsh pulled ahead to take top billing. After setting world records in both the 50-yard and 100-yard dashes, Miss Robinson of the Illinois Women’s Athletic Club (IWAC) had set a high bar for the rest of the world’s lady runners.
Miss Walsh, who competes for New York Central Railway, enjoyed a banner day and set records in the 100-yard, 220-yard, and broad jump. When Miss Robinson was asked how it felt to come home empty-handed of her usual haul of medals and trophies, she conceded, “Miss Walsh competed admirably. If I’m to recapture my top ranking, I need to get more serious about my training and make some changes.” Pressed about what kind of changes she is considering, Robinson refused to provide any clues to her plans.
With last spring’s International Olympic Committee’s confirmation that women will be permitted to compete in future Olympics, Americans can look forward to all the drama that lady athletes bring to the sporting arena. More than 150 of the nation’s top racers turned out to compete in the National AAU Championships, no doubt inspired by the possibility of traveling to the next Olympics in sunny Los Angeles to compete, sightsee, and socialize with other top-notch athletes from all over the world.
Up-and-coming all-around girl athlete Miss Babe Didrikson of Dallas made her debut on the national stage by setting new records in the javelin and baseball throw and placing second to Walsh in the broad jump. Keep an eye on the outgoing blond girl from the Lone Star State—we think she’s going places!
12.
August 1931
Fulton, Missouri
AFTER HELEN FINISHED HER STUDIES AT MIDDLE RIVER School, no one in the Stephens family spoke about what she would be doing in the fall. She was thirteen years old. A few of her classmates would travel to the other side of town to attend Fulton High School, but many would stay home to work or be hired out at other nearby farms, while a few would go on to work in the shoe factory near the rail yard. Pa often said he wanted her to earn wages at the shoe factory, but she didn’t know how quickly he hoped to see that plan materialize. Helen wanted to go to high school, but didn’t dare ask about her future because not knowing kept the less desirable options at bay for as long as possible.
Times had gotten tough around the Stephens farm. Ma cobbled together more and more one-pot dinners, and as meat became an increasingly scarce menu item, chipped beef on toast, a meal not often viewed as a delicacy in most quarters, was greeted by Bobbie Lee and Helen as a treat. Letters with the bank’s return address arrived in the mail drop with increasing frequency. Pa would read them with a scowl etched across his face, and then he’d mutter darkly and thrust the latest missive into a cupboard where Helen could see a stack of similar letters yellowing out of sight.
Pa’s presence at meals that spring and summer was a rarity as he wrung out every last minute of daylight to work, but he could always be counted upon to join them for Sunday supper. It was during one of these evenings in early August that Ma chewed her lip as she spooned out macaroni and cheese to each of them. Before she sat, she folded her scarecrow-thin arms across the bib of her apron and announced, “Helen should get her high school diploma. She needs to start classes at Fulton High next month.”
Helen and Bobbie Lee froze. The moment Helen had been dreading had arrived.
Pa appeared to ignore what she had said and raised his fork over his plate as if to dig in, but paused. “This is what happens when girls like you go to college. You start thinking everyone needs educating, but look at Helen.”
Bobbie Lee and Ma swiveled their heads in Helen’s direction.
“See? Look at her.” Pa glowered. “All she wears is work shirts and overalls. She’s no student.”
Helen lifted her fork with as much dignity as she could muster and surveyed her plate. She wasn’t hankering to get all dolled up each day like she imagined the other girls at school did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to go. “I like history and reading and writing,” she said.
Pa snorted. “None of that’s useful.”
Ma batted a hand in the air as if brushing away her husband’s skepticism. “She’s going,” she said, her face stony. From her pocket, she pulled out a letter and pen and placed both items by Pa’s left arm. “I’ve secured her a room in the home of Miss Humphries, one of the English teachers. Her house is three blocks from the school. Helen will stay there during the week and come home on Friday evenings in time for supper.” She pointed to the document. “You’ll need to sign that.”