Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

That package, delivered to her door, held something more precious than diamonds. In it were romance and the answer to the question every girl asks herself: "When will I find my hve?" RUTH MANSON, her lithe young body in rhythm with the pounding machinery, was thinking about the diamond bracelet. She brushed her blonde hair back with a quick movement, her hand leaving a smudge on her forehead. She smiled. A whirring, busy, noisy shell factory was hardly the place to be thinking of a diamond bracelet. "But it's not funny," she said, As o ,1. I,. .!,,;,. I short story by Joel Sher, read the radio drama by Webb Hawley, first broodcast on the Armstrong Theater of Today, heard Saturday mornings at noon. EWT, on the CBS network. 10 half aloud. "That darned bracelet is driving me crazy." "Huh?" The girl standing next to her before the ever-moving belt looked over. "Oh, nothing," Ruth said, her fingers flying. There wasn't time to explain it to the girl. Besides, her. co-worker would think she had gone insane. Ruth went on working and tried to forget about the bracelet. But she couldn't get it out of her mind. It was so ridiculous. For the hundredth time, she reviewed what had happened. It was almost a week now since the night the doorbell had rung. The delivery boy had said, "Package for Ruth Manson." She had thought it was from her mother, so she had taken the package and signed for it. Then she had returned to her tiny room and opened it. It had dazzled her. It was so breathtakingly beautiful — a diamond bracelet! At first, she was sure it was a mistake. It had been sent from Rogers and Caswell, the most exclusive jewelry store in Chicago. She turned it over carefully, a little awed, then she gasped with surprise. The bracelet had her initials on it! She laughed. It was a mistake, of course. She called Rogers and Caswell right away, but they were closed for the day. "Well," she said, "it's mine for tonight, anyway." It made her a little sad. Not that she had wanted a diamond bracelet. But it reminded her that there were other things besides work. There were young men who sent girls diamond bracelets. In the midst of war, some people still had the time and money to buy extravagant gifts for someone they loved. It made her want to go back to Wayne, back to that little midwestern town where she knew everyone. Back there young men didn't buy girls diamond bracelets, but they did pay some attention to them. It was the first time she had admitted to herself that she was lonely. She had expected Chicago to be exciting, she had expected to meet new and fascinating people. But, in over a month, the only people she knew were a few of the girls she lunched with at the factory. Then, all at once, she was ashamed of herself. After all, she had come to Chicago to work. She had wanted to do her part in winning the war. She was doing her part. She was one of the best workers in the factory, everyone said. That was more important than boy friends and good times. They would come after it was over, when there RADIO AND TELEVISION MTM°R really would be something to celebrate.. And she knew that she was happier about the "E" her factory "ad earned for its work than she would be at really getting a diamond bracelet. <.. '■ the bracelet worried her. ™>e called Rogers and Caswell the «*t day during her lunch hour and reported the error. "We'll check it," suave voice said, "if it's a mis «Mlsr, 1942 take we'll send someone out to pick it up." But a week had gone by Every night she had expected someone to call for it. Now, as she worked, she suddenly became frightened. What if something happened to the bracelet before they picked it up? What if someone should steal it? On the way home from work that night, she hurried faster than ever. Dick said admiringly, "It's hard fa fell where fhe flowers leare off and you begin." She could hardly wait to get there, to peek under her stockings in the lower drawer, and assure herself that the bracelet was safe. She ran up the flight of stairs to her apartment, arriving at the top completely breathless. She stopped. A young man was leaning against her door pushing the buzzer. His hat was tipped back on his head. Continued on page 79