Zelda

By Richard Val

Two people fall in love after experiencing a deep crisis in their lives.

Richard Val has become an author later in his life and enjoys his new career as a writer.

This novel is a tribute to Franciska Gaal, a marvelous Jewish Hungarian actress who made European romantic comedies during the 1930s. She moved to H

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jun 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781648959370

Richard Val

Richard Val has become an author later in his life and enjoys his new career as a writer.

Book preview

Acknowledgments

This novel is a tribute to Franciska Gaal, a marvelous Jewish Hungarian actress who made European romantic comedies during the 1930s. She moved to Hollywood and made three films. One in particular put a spotlight on her enormous comedic talent. It was The Girl Downstairs with Franchot Tone, which was released in 1938. Her prodigious talent could have made her one of the great actresses in American film. But, because of World War II, fate had her go back to Hungary in 1940 to attend to her mother’s illness. And she remained there throughout the war. It was unfortunate that, when she returned to the United States, her stardom had waned. She did some Broadway works and a few films, but it was never the same. She died forgotten in New York City in 1972. It is the author’s fervent hope that Franciska Gaal will be remembered as someone on the same level as Carole Lombard and Jean Arthur.

Chapter 1

He remembered:

John Wilson grasped the stalk with his strong right hand. Dry, he thought, but not too dry. In fact, it was about ready for reaping, and then milling, as were the others. The flowers at the end of the four-foot stalk held the grain, which looked impressive to his critical eyes.

A good crop this year, he concluded.

He thought about an excellent movie he and his family saw a year ago in 1937 at a Wichita movie theater. It was called The Good Earth, starring Paul Muni, and based on a novel by Pearl Buck. He was impressed by two of its themes. One was that nature provided so many resources for mankind. And the wheat he grew was one of them. The grain was highly prized in 1938, not only because it was a good, inexpensive ingredient for cereal and bread for average families coping with the Great Depression but it also was rich in vitamins and fiber, according to the promoters of good health. The second theme of the film gripped him immensely. John could identify with the story of the struggle of Chinese farmers to survive because he and American farmers like himself were experiencing a modern version of it. The world in 1938 was going through a severe economic crisis with high unemployment, extremely low purchasing power of the consumer, a dramatic decrease of farm exports, huge debts compiled by governments, families, and private businesses, with people fearful of losing their homes and farms through foreclosure, and also the downward spiral of cash flow, an extremely important lifeline for farmers as they waited for their crops to mature.

Many banks closed down, which meant fewer lenders to turn to for pressing short-term loans. As a last resort, the federal government became the banker. However, the result was bittersweet. The farmer would be paid to either not produce anything or to destroy what he did produce in order to prop up the price of crops, according to the law of supply and demand. As one of the leaders of an association of farmers, John initially balked at the idea of paying farmers to destroy food. It seemed immoral. But he came to realize that the economic survival of his people was at stake. Yet it shook his core values. People still needed to eat; food should be available in plenty, especially to the needy. But in reality, land would lay fallow and food would be limited. Furthermore, would the government now force him to sell his solid bumper crop—his pride and joy—on the open market, or to destroy it? John winced. The whole thing seemed stupefying and inhumane to him. He realized a war, the possibility of it swirling through the air, would bring the price of wheat soaring. But who wants a war and a suddenly expensive staple that most people wouldn’t now be able to afford?

He observed the Great Depression as the wailing of humanity. Too many suffered malnutrition and fright as they waited on breadlines for the first time in their lives. Without employment, many felt impoverished, useless, aimless, and degraded. Thousands not only perceived death at the doorstep but some felt the grim reaper touching them, with the suicide rate accelerating to an alarming high. But amidst this world of struggle and turmoil, John’s main focus was to keep his farm because it was the only livelihood he knew, and at the same time, he had to make sure his family was safe and secure. He was also confident they would survive this crisis.

He remembered a scene in the movie where Muni, playing the role of a struggling old Chinese farmer, hoped his sons would continue toiling the soil after he passed on the land to them. But in the end, they decided to sell the farm to speculators. The Muni character felt crushed, and the story did not have a happy ending. When John left the theater with his family, he felt sadness for the old farmer and said to his wife and children that the old man deserved a better fate, after the blood, sweat, and tears he bore in running his farm for many years.

John commented, We ourselves have been blessed with a wonderful farm, and I hope we never lose it. We will not lose it. He said it with conviction.

And they all were impressed. His deep remembrance of that occasion was a remarkable memory to him. He thought, Did I actually say that to my family? Gosh, it was inspiring, like patting himself on the back, which he infrequently did. John broke the spell of reminiscence by looking at his watch. Late afternoon. His mind turned to other matters. Time to pick up the cake. He started his old International truck and headed in the direction of Earl’s General Food Store. On this mild October day, it was his daughter’s thirteenth birthday—Hannah. He loved her so—a pretty face, flowing blonde hair, and a comically devilish demeanor that kept any observer off guard. John chuckled to himself. Pity the suitors when she flowers into a young lady. She reminded him of Katharine Hepburn’s spunky and playful personality in another movie he saw, the 1933 film production of Little Women.

John was proud of his daughter and was planning her future. He had it all figured out—he was saving money so he could send her to one of the finest women colleges in the east—Smith College in Massachusetts. No school in his home state of Kansas could match its academic superiority. He researched it thoroughly, after discussing different colleges with a teacher friend. Nothing but the best for Hannah. She was entering high school, so the dream was four years away. He hoped it would not be dashed by the Great Depression. If better times rolled around again soon, he was confident he would have the money to pay for her education—although he wasn’t sure how long the economic crisis would last. He kept his fingers crossed. He also felt confident his daughter would achieve superior grades and be a candidate for a scholarship.

A nettlesome problem of that era was that few scholarships were given to girls, who society deemed would better serve in domesticated roles as housekeepers and child-rearing wives. John felt this was terribly wrong. Girls needed to be given the same opportunities for careers as boys. It would open up a new world for them. It was cruel to quash their dreams. Hannah was already an outstanding student in grade school and had ambitions to be a writer, but John figured he would lay that issue aside until her junior year in high school.

On the cake he was about to pick up were the requested words, To Hannah on her 13th birthday, love Mom, Dad, and Tommy. John’s wife, Gertie, was spending all day preparing Hannah’s favorite meal—leg of lamb with stuffed mushrooms and creamed potatoes. He had felt uneasy about killing a succulent lamb that Hannah grew attached to, among the six lambs they raised. She even named the animal Snow White, from the 1937 Walt Disney movie, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. John killed it without telling Hannah because he knew she would have put up a big fuss about it. When he finally did tell her, he braced for her expected reaction. She put up a huge stink and began crying. He sat her down and explained that certain animals were raised for their meat and that Snow White was ready to be eaten. In fact, Hannah’s mom had previously taught her how to kill chickens, which they also raised. She was very efficient at that, and it didn’t bother her in the least. So John knew his daughter’s reaction reminded him she was still a child. And just to make her feel a little better, he promised he would buy her a puppy, which she had lately asked for. The promise was on the condition that she would eat her lamb dinner, which she initially balked at doing.

His eleven-year-old son, Tommy, assured his mom he would be home by 4:00 p.m., and that meant skipping an after-school baseball game with some of his classmates at nearby Christie Mathewson field. John admired his boy for his athletic prowess. Tommy’s teammates would always make him the cleanup hitter because of his ability to astonishingly drive a baseball a long way, something uncommon for his age. John thought, he’s a lanky kid now, but just wait until he fills out. The potential was enormous. With his talent, he might become a terrific professional ballplayer like sluggers Joe DiMaggio and Joe Medwick. John realized only a few make it to the big leagues, but people were impressed with Tommy’s power.

John was a little over six feet tall, so he figured Tommy would probably become something like a strapping six-foot-two-inch man. There was no doubt he had impressive athletic ability. John knew he was only hypothesizing, but a father can dream, can’t he? However, aside from that, he dearly loved his son for his equanimity and good sense. He was a kid who never gave his family any trouble. He was always willing to do chores around the farm on weekends, when he wasn’t in school. In John’s mind, two traits stood out: he was obedient and reliable. The kid with the reddish hair, who took after his mom in that respect.

He was a gift from God, John would always say to his friends.

And the same could be said about Hannah, his bright and energetic angel. He deeply loved them so. As for his spouse, John felt words could never express what Gertie meant to him. She was his soul mate, lover, and companion. Although not a very religious man, he felt compelled to form a makeshift prayer to his god, kneeling at his bedside before going to sleep. He wasn’t good at prayer—pausing frequently for the right words and uttering clichés he had heard from sermons long ago. But the one theme he wanted to express was that he was blessed and was humbled through the grace of a supernatural power for having such a good family he was proud of.

Chapter 2

The Wilson family celebrated Hannah’s birthday that evening. John had the habit of being critical of his daughter’s unkempt, very lengthy hair. Gertie, when will you cut it shorter?

His wife’s response was always the same. Not yet, and besides, she looks good in long hair. All the young girls are wearing their hair long. It’s the style. You’re jealous because you’re losing some of your own hair on top.

Hannah was satisfyingly amused by her mom’s robust defense of her. Her bright greenish-blue eyes lit up with glee at that exchange. She was not quite yet into male interest and beauty, although puberty was not that far away. But, as a sidenote, she always complained about her freckled face. As you grow older, the freckles will disappear, insisted her mom. That response made Hannah feel a little better until she looked at herself in the mirror and grew impatient once again. And so John, as the male interloper, diplomatically considered himself overruled in the brief exchange on the topic of hair.

After the hearty dinner they all thoroughly enjoyed, Gertie brought out the chocolate cake with butter icing, and they sang Happy Birthday to Hannah. Tommy loved his sweets, so he was the first to eat his piece.

It’s a swell cake, Mom and Dad. Thanks.

Gertie replied to her son, I’m glad you like it. You have a little piece of chocolate on your face. Clean it with your napkin. Which he dutifully did.

Hannah said she wished every day was her birthday. Then they went into the parlor where Hannah was given her gift. It was a fashionable scarf and gloves set that Gertie had seen in Good Housekeeping Magazine, and she mail ordered it from a reputable New York City clothing company. Hannah liked her gift because Kansas had its cold winters, and the season was approaching. Gertie had known that her daughter liked one of the hats that they saw Judy Garland wear in a movie with Mickey Rooney, but she couldn’t find a store that had it, and neither in any of the catalogs. She was obsessed with where she could purchase it, even thinking about trying to call Judy herself or her agent. But she felt it was absurd to go that far. Gertie believed the hat would have thrilled Hannah, but she was glad her daughter was not disappointed with her gift.

Thank you all so much. Now I’m ready for winter, Hannah said, and they all kissed her.

Then they sat as John read several chapters of the latest books he borrowed from the public library—Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island and Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book. They were popular adventure novels with a cast of unforgettable characters. Children of the day loved them. Tommy had an inquisitive mind. So he asked his dad, Do you like Long John Silver?

John was not quite comfortable with explaining novels, but he attempted to answer Tommy’s question. Well, son, yes and no. I think, like young Jim Hawkins, we would all be taken in by the man’s charm. But we also have to realize he was a pirate who plundered other people’s possessions and was really an unsavory person not to be trusted.

Tommy was satisfied with the answer, and John read on. Tommy’s inquisitive mind sounded again with regard to Kipling’s novel. "Dad, is the American Indian related