The Liars

by Ida Linehan Young

  “We just want a few pieces of bread,” the taller boy answered while still keeping the girl in his sights.

  Teddy, probably a year older than any of the three, pulled out a five-cent piece, half of what he’d just earned, and tossed it to the boys. “How about you leave the young lady alone?” The three wrestled for the coin as they moved away.

  “Friends of yours?” the girl asked.

  “Maybe,” he said. “I’m Teddy.”

  “Lavinia.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Jackson’s on Carpasian Road,” she replied.

  “You should be all right from here,” Teddy said.

  “Maybe I won’t.”

  Teddy grinned. “I’d walk with you, miss, but I’ve just come from the stables.”

  “It’s Lavinia, and I don’t mind,” said the girl. “Just keep your distance.” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke.

  They talked until they got to the door.

  “Teddy.” Lavinia tossed him a piece of bread. “That’s for the nickel. I get off after supper and might need a walk home.”

  Teddy grinned the whole way back to Water Street.

  When he reached the dock, a dark-haired girl a year or so his senior accosted him. Her hair was braided yet looked matted and fly-away all the same time. A scowl crossed her dirty brow before she threw a punch at his face. Teddy grabbed her fist before she could land the blow.

  “What’s that for, Rosie?”

  “The bread, that’s what.”

  “You mean this bread?” Teddy took the loaf from beneath his coat, pulled it in half, and tossed it to her. Rosie grabbed the portion and sank her teeth into the end, tearing off a bite. He did the same with his half. He eyed her while they chewed. She was pretty enough, if he were to notice such a thing. After swallowing, he said, “I told you I’d bring something back.”

  “Boys said you stopped them from taking the basket from the girl. They had their money spent and bellies full before they got back. Didn’t bring me anything, either.”

  “They’re a selfish bunch, Rosie,” Teddy said. “You know that.”

  She looked skyward and then glanced around the docks. “Rain’s coming. Where are you staying tonight?”

  “I left the hayloft open at the barns. I’m heading back there later. You?”

  “Don’t know yet. The girls on the dock say I’m old enough to join them. Maybe tonight’s the night.”

  “Don’t do that. Come with me. I’ve a dry place tonight.”

  Rosie had shown up on the streets early spring the year before. At first she was mercilessly bullied by all of them. Although he pitied her, Teddy couldn’t show it. That would make him weak in the eyes of the others. He’d worked too hard to gain importance in the street hierarchy, and he couldn’t risk losing his place. The weak didn’t survive. He didn’t expect her to make it through the summer, but somehow, she had.

  He remembered the day the man tried to haul her into his carriage. Rosie kicked and screamed and struggled to get clear, but he held her fast. Two police officers ran to the scene, and Teddy overheard the man say he was her father. She was cursing him and calling him names. One of the policemen struck her arm with his stick to release her hold on the carriage. She yelped with pain but would not let go.

  That was when Teddy really gained an admiration for her. She spat at the man and accused him of being too friendly for a real father. Many of the storekeepers and shoppers were gathering around. Teddy noticed a cart of vegetables left unattended on the sidewalk. He stood behind it and pushed with all his might. The cart overturned, and turnip, potatoes, and cabbage rolled out into the street. The vendor shouted at him, and he fell in amongst the vegetables, feigning being hurt. The constables came to see what the commotion was about, and Rosie bit the arm of the man who had grabbed her and fled down the street.

  One of the constables helped him stand up, and he limped away from the ruckus while the farmer got the stand righted with the help of some of the others. Teddy moved through the crowd and quickly left the area with the policemen not far behind. He saw the carriage speed out of the downtown area as the rider whipped the horses.

  Rosie caught up with him the next day and thanked him. He told her to go home, that the street was no place for her. She responded that it was better than home and left it at that.

  That was almost a year ago. She’d sometimes disappear for days and return with black eyes or covered in bruises, but she didn’t complain. The boys who Teddy moved around with tended to look out for her, and she them.

  Rosie nodded, and they made their way to the stables Teddy had left earlier. It had already started to rain by the time the hands went for the evening. They waited patiently at the base of a big old apple tree, out of sight of the barn. Teddy pulled out some carrots he’d taken from the street vendor and shared them with her. They munched on the last of the bread. Neither of them spoke as they listened to the sound of the horses and the voices of the men on the other side of the fence.

  When the way was clear, Teddy ducked low and ran along the edge of the whitewashed pickets. He’d hidden a ladder there. He threw it over the fence and motioned for Rosie, who followed his lead, and before long they were pulling the ladder up through the hay shaft on the loft of the stable. He carefully closed the wooden door behind him. It creaked if he didn’t lift it while shutting it.

  She sat cross-legged on the hay as he put the ladder to the side. Dust was flying everywhere in the grey light from the window at the other side of the loft. He searched around under the edge of the hay and pulled out a blanket that was used to cover the horses on cold nights. He threw it to Rosie.

  “That will keep you warm.” More dust flew, stirred by the force of the blanket hitting the planks near her.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be all right. I have to leave for a bit, but I’ll be back.” Teddy hoped he would meet the young lady he’d walked to work earlier that morning. “You’re safe here.”

  The horses stomped below as Rosie moved back toward the bundle of hay and shook out the blanket. It settled on the dry straw near the back of the loft. She patted it down so that it wouldn’t be too lumpy.

  “I’ve had worse places to sleep,” she said.

  “I’ve got to go,” Teddy said. He pushed out the ladder and fixed the hatch, then hid it once more before racing off to Carpasian Road to walk Lavinia home.

  The rain and drizzle had soaked his ragged coat, and he shivered slightly when Lavinia came down the step. She grinned at him when he moved out into view from the other side of the road.

  “I see you didn’t forget about me,” Lavinia said.

  A warmth that started in his belly and flowed through him was something that he hadn’t experienced before. Teddy grinned at her, and she linked her arm in through his. “How could I forget a lady such as yourself?”

  Conversation was easy, and before he knew it, they had arrived at her house. She boldly and quickly kissed his cheek and ran toward the door.

  “Good night, Teddy.”

  “Good night, Lavinia.” He wanted to ask her when he could see her again, but his tongue was the full of his mouth.

  Lavinia called out from the porch. “I could use an escort the same time tomorrow evening.” She closed the door and was gone before he could answer.

  Teddy whistled the whole way back to the barn. He could hear the soft sounds of Rosie’s breathing when he got inside. It was hard to be quiet in the darkness.

  He found another blanket near the trough below. Wrapping it around himself, he settled into the hay. Despite the wet clothes, the night seemed a whole lot warmer as he closed his eyes.

  Rosie dropped her blanket on him, and he woke abruptly. The greyness of dawn highlighted her form as he sat up. Neither made a sound as they crept fro
m the barn just before the door creaked in the house and footfalls hit the step. A rooster crowed and a dog barked somewhere in the distance.

  They scurried past the apple tree when Rosie turned to Teddy. “Late night?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Heading down to the docks?”

  “Nope, I’m going to wait around and head back to the barn to look for a few hours work.”

  “I’ll see you around?”

  “Sure,” Teddy said. He knew Rosie was headed to the convent on Queen’s Road. The nuns set out breakfast for her if she was there early enough before they left for the day. She wasn’t always successful. If the sisters were off tending to the sick at night, they wouldn’t be there. But Rosie got a meal there two or three times a week because of her persistence.

  There was no work for Teddy that day, so he headed to the docks to see if he could pick up something to make a few cents. He hated having to scavenge behind the diners when he could get two-day-old bread for a penny and a couple of slices of meat from the butcher for a few more.

  It wasn’t much, but it got him through the week. He shared when he could, but that wasn’t often. Each of them had their own territory for foraging, and some days were better than others. They usually met just before supper in the woods near Victoria Park. They had built a little shelter there out of crates and boards they found, mostly in the alleys. It was cold and damp on rainy nights and didn’t offer much protection from the elements, but it did the job when there was nowhere else.

  Last year, one of the boys found a piece of canvas which they used on the roof. That was Bobby, he believed. Bobby had been gone since just before the winter. Nobody knew what happened to him. He was probably dead. They had no way of knowing. That’s the way things were. You grew up on the street, or you didn’t. What happened if you were lucky enough to grow up was a mystery. Teddy was one of the oldest boys on the street now since Bobby was gone. Therefore, he had a higher rank, so to speak. He hadn’t gotten to the position without proving himself, nor did anyone. Teddy hated to lose his human side when things were desperate, but he had to do what it took, and he knew how to do that. He didn’t have to like it, but he did it anyway. Survival was survival, and it wasn’t always easy, but it was easier to do every time something had to be done.

  Every evening that Lavinia worked, Teddy walked her home. They spent more and more time together. She saw the good in him. “Teddy, money is not related to goodness. Believe me, I know from working with the Jacksons.” She continually told him that he was worthy and that he could make something of himself if given the chance. He tried harder to earn a few coins instead of stealing, but sometimes, when he was hungry and penniless, he did things that he didn’t tell Lavinia about. She often snuck him food from the Jacksons when he didn’t have any money.

  Rosie gave him a wide berth once he started seeing Lavinia. “You think you’re too good for the likes of me,” she said.

  “What are you talking about, Rosie?”

  “I thought you had eyes for me, Teddy.” Rosie lowered her eyes, and she played with her hands when she spoke. When she was like this, she reminded him of the Rosie he knew the year before and not the hardened Rosie she’d become.

  “Only to help you, Rosie. Only to help you.”

  “So, you do think yourself too good for the likes of me?” Teddy saw the hardness return to her eyes.

  “That’s not what I said. What’s gotten into you?”

  “Not a thing,” said Rosie. “I thought we’d get off the streets together, that’s all.”

  “I don’t have a way off the streets,” he said.

  “I do.” She wrung her hands again and looked at him beneath hooded eyes.

  “How?”

  “Laura and Geraldine want me to hang out with them,” Rosie told him. “They said I could make some money.”

  “That’s a hard life, Rosie.”

  “I’ve seen harder.”

  “I don’t know,” Teddy countered. “There sure have been a lot of Geraldines and Lauras since I came here.”

  “I got nothing else. I’m tired and hungry more often than anything.”

  “What about the convent?”

  Rosie laughed. “There’s no God going to take me in. Besides, my father would have to sign for me. He won’t do that.”

  With that, she threw her arms around Teddy and tried to kiss him. Startled, he pushed her away. “What are you doing, Rosie?”

  “Too good to take what I’m offering,” she spat at him. “Someday, Teddy White, you’ll regret throwing me aside. You mark my words.” Before he could say anything, she turned and ran toward the harbour. He didn’t see her after that and gave her little thought as time passed.

  11

  Then there was John MacDonald. John was about Teddy White’s age, maybe a year younger. Probably fifteen when they first met. Some of the boys had stolen his money and left John beaten and bloodied in an alley near Duckworth Street. Teddy heard his moans and cries for help. He found John and helped him up. John, his light hair matted with blood, staggered on his feet. Teddy put one arm around the young man’s waist and laid John’s arm over his own shoulder. John told him that home was a mile away, on Empire Avenue.

  Mr. MacDonald was either watching for his son or must have heard the commotion as they neared the step. He rushed outside as they approached.

  “What happened, Johnny?” asked the tall man whose dark hair was flecked with grey. He looked from his son to Teddy. “Did you do this to him?”

  Teddy was about to push John away and run when John said, “No, Father, he helped me.”

  “Well, come in, then. My name is Alexander.” He smiled and guided the two through the door.

  Teddy helped John to a chair. Mr. MacDonald said, “You must stay for supper.”

  Teddy gave a half-hearted protest, but they both insisted, and he was hungry. Lavinia had the day off and was doing chores for her mother, so he had no plans with her that evening. As Mr. MacDonald looked him up and down, Teddy blurted out, “It was probably my friends who did this.”

  “Were you there?”

  “No, sir, I was not.” Teddy almost said that if he were he might have joined in.

  “Then we can’t blame you, now, can we?” The man smiled. John was unaccustomed to kindness from strangers. “I believe I’ve seen you down on the docks carrying sacks of flour to the warehouse.”

  “Yes, sir, I work when I can.”

  John’s father nodded. His mouth opened as if he were about to say something else, but he remained silent and tended to his son.

  At the table, Teddy quickly grabbed for two pieces of bread. He looked from father to son, and neither pointed out that there was enough. Teddy relaxed and decided to enjoy the meal. It was a strange feeling not to have to fend off the boys trying to grab his food. He stirred awkwardly in the chair, not used to the routine of a civilized meal.

  He learned a lot about John and his father that evening. Alexander MacDonald had been widowed when John was born. There were just the two of them. Mr. MacDonald worked at the docks six days a week, loading and unloading ships. They lived a comfortable life in a small house. They ate more than once a day, they were warm, and they had beds to sleep in at night.

  Mr. MacDonald asked Teddy questions about his family, and Teddy was truthful. His own circumstance angered him, and he excused himself to leave.

  “Begging your pardon, young man,” Mr. MacDonald said. “You could use a place to stay tonight. We don’t have much, but I’m guessing it’s more than you have.”

  “I’ll be just fine, sir. I don’t want your goodwill.”

  “Look, lad, no need to get affronted. I wouldn’t want my John on the street if somebody had room for him, that’s all.”

  “How do you know I won’t rob you in the
night?” Teddy asked blatantly.

  “Because you brought my boy home. Anyone who’d bring home my boy can’t be a bad fellow.”

  Teddy, unused to kind-heartedness, felt torn. He certainly could use a soft bed under a warm roof, but he had his pride. He turned to leave.

  “Thanks for helping me, Ted.” John got up from the table and extended his hand. “We really would like you to stay.”

  Teddy hesitated. His knitted brow and habitual scowl gradually relaxed. Slowly, he nodded acceptance and shook John’s hand in a warm, reassuring grip. The genuineness in John’s smile was unmistakable. That was the beginning of a brotherly bond, and Teddy stayed on with the MacDonalds.

  As his new stability sank in, Teddy began to make long-term plans for himself and his sweetheart. He wanted to marry Lavinia, but he needed a job. Lavinia continued to work with the Jacksons to contribute to their dream. It was simple—they wanted to be together.

  John’s father got the two boys a job on a schooner heading for Halifax, and so began their life at sea. Each trip home, they had stories for the senior MacDonald, and Teddy would see Lavinia as often as possible.

  “Oh, Teddy, I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve missed you so.” Lavinia, her black hair shining in the glow of the porch light, rushed into his arms. Teddy held her close.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.” She finished buttoning her brown woollen coat, and they held hands as they turned onto the street to stroll toward Victoria Park.

  The door latch clicked, and Margaret Jackson called, “Lavinia, you be back in this house by eight. I need you to draw a bath for me and help me prepare for bed.”

  “Yes, miss,” shouted Lavinia. She tensed beside Teddy.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

  The door closed before she spoke. “That Margaret, she’s such a spoiled girl. She has me working constantly. Lavinia do this, Lavinia do that. It’s getting to be more than I can bear. Then there’s Mr. Jackson. He’s tried to corner me in the kitchen a few times. I’ve been able to fend him off, though.”