“What are these people like?” Ruth asked.
“I know very little,” she replied. “Only what a trusted source in the nurses’ organization was able to learn from another reliable source. There is a small organization in Toronto for victims of rape, their friends and family members, who all support and help each other. This couple’s daughter was raped on her way to school. I don’t know any more details, but it’s enough to trust that Amelia will be safe with them.”
“What if the car from the Home shows up before Amelia comes out?” Audrey asked. “Or before we get there?”
“I’m the one who always makes the call to the Home. And since a lot of the doctors don’t give a lot of time to the Crittenton girls, they depend on me to let them know when the girls are ready to leave. The normal seven to ten days’ stay doesn’t apply to Home girls when they give up their babies. So I’ll be able to manipulate the timing to a certain extent.”
Ruth looked from Lillian to Audrey and back. “There are a lot of things that need to happen just right for this to work.”
Lillian reached out and took their hands. “Yes,” she said, “there are.”
Before Ruth realized it, the red-orange orb glowing in the rearview and side mirrors of the car had changed to an occasional glare of light from a following car. The time since leaving Lillian’s and beginning their drive home had been consumed with the plan. They talked about it in detail, wondering and worrying aloud.
“Did you ever think that we would be doing this?” Audrey asked.
“Honestly, no,” Ruth said. “There certainly is a huge difference between hoping and wishing for something to happen and the responsibility for making it happen.”
“You’re worried, aren’t you?”
Ruth leaned her head against the back of the seat. “Worried about whether I’ve done enough, if it will all work, worried about letting Amelia down if it doesn’t, or what will happen to her if she decides to go home.” She turned her head to Audrey’s profile silhouetted against the faded gray of the window. The lines were bold and sure, from the straight hold of her head to the strong set of her chin. “You aren’t worried, are you?”
“Not about this.” She met Ruth’s eyes long enough for them to emphasize her concern. “There are things that we will never be able to control, there always will be. Worrying about those things takes energy from what we can control. It’s been a hard lesson for me to learn, and at times I forget that I’ve learned it. Guilt creeps in when I forget that the result was from something beyond my control.”
“Velma?”
Audrey nodded. “I couldn’t do anything to save her from what happened. But by God,” she said, and turned her head to speak directly to Ruth, “I’m going to do everything in my power to save Amelia.”
Ruth wrapped her hand over Audrey’s on the steering wheel. She could feel the wheels on the road and the power of the engine. She felt the control of Audrey’s grip, and shared it.
The next two days were fraught. Life struggled to continue as normal, while both women knew that a phone call would alter that in an instant. Since it was important to get to and from work and to be able to respond to Lillian’s call as quickly as possible, Audrey stayed at Ruth’s and drove them to work in the morning.
Realizing that Amelia would be leaving with only what she wore to the hospital, Ruth had used her lunch break the previous day to buy a suitcase and clothes for her. New clothes and a new start—a phone call away.
Audrey added her contribution the night before, tucking an envelope containing the month’s money normally invested in government war bonds, into the elastic pocket of the suitcase. A better investment, she was sure.
Yet even with preparation details taken care of, concerns continued to pepper Audrey’s thoughts. Had they forgotten anything? Would today be the day Lillian called? How brave could they expect Amelia to be? And the one that prodded her most—was there anything more she could do? She knew why that concern wouldn’t leave her, why it resisted all reasoning. If only this time she would be able to answer the unanswerable.
Just as she had done the day before, Audrey hurried from the plant without her usual end-of-day courtesies. Only Nona knew why.
“Keep your train on the track and your passenger safe,” she said as Audrey rushed past.
“One day closer to the station,” had become Audrey’s response.
Ruth was waiting in the restaurant parking lot, and without wasting a minute they went straight to Ruth’s, ran inside, and checked the message pad next to the phone.
“She called,” exclaimed Ruth, grabbing the phone and dialing Lillian’s number. She clasped Audrey’s hand as she waited.
“Lillian, it’s Ruth,” she began as soon as she heard Lillian’s voice. “Did she deliver? Is she all right?”
“Yes and yes. Amelia delivered late last night, and she is fine. I was with her all the way through and everything went well. I’m sure that you and Susan sharing your experiences with her was a tremendous help. She knew what to expect and she seemed much more calm than I expected.”
“Oh, I am so relieved,” Ruth said, nodding at Audrey and squeezing her hand. “And how does she seem otherwise?”
“She asked two questions. If her uncle would be able to find her, and if she would ever be able to see her mother and father again.”
“I’ve been worried about that last one.”
“Regardless of their deficiencies, they are still her parents,” Lillian replied. “And she is still a child.”
“Yes,” Ruth said. “Something we can’t change no matter how much we wish we could.”
“What we can do is give her every chance possible and hope for the best. And that’s what we’re doing.” Lillian’s voice had that same reassurance Ruth had counted on herself not long ago. Now she was counting on it once again. “The Home likes to pick the girls up early on the fifth day,” Lillian continued, “but I’m going to have her ready early evening on the fourth day. I’ll tell them that she is doing exceptionally well, which she is, and that I think it will be better for her emotionally to be back in a more social environment. That way you two won’t have to worry about taking time from work. There is no sense in jeopardizing your jobs if we can avoid it.”
“Audrey will be relieved,” Ruth said. “I was prepared with an excuse if needed, but it would have been more difficult for her.”
“Expect a call around six o’clock on Friday if all goes well.”
“Yes, we’ll be ready. Thank you, Lillian.”
Audrey had no chance to voice her questions. Ruth excitedly offered up everything Lillian had told her. They had known how it was to happen, waited impatiently, and now they knew the when. The expression on Audrey’s face, lifted brows and an easy smile, said everything that Ruth was feeling—relieved, hopeful, and anxious.
Audrey glanced at the dining-room window and the soft glow of the sun low in the sky. “We have time before dark,” she said. “How about another driving session?”
“You know, there will come a time when you won’t have to ask.”
Chapter 27
Sharing, they found, made angst bearable. They shared driving sessions, rides to work, dinners, and nights at Ruth’s.
The little brass fan sitting atop the bureau ushered the cool night air in through the open bedroom window. Audrey pushed a pillow behind her back against the ornate mahogany headboard and pulled her nightgown over her knees.
Ruth padded down the hallway from the bathroom and closed the bedroom door behind her. “What a lovely sight you are.” She added a coy smile as she stuffed her dirty clothes into the bag hanging on the closet knob.
“It just now occurred to me,” Audrey said, “I’m about to help kidnap a girl and I don’t even know what she looks like.”
“We’re providing safe passage,” Ruth replied, opening the bottom drawer of the bureau. She retrieved a large pad of paper and slipped onto the bed next to Audrey. “Here,” she said, flipping through
the pages, “this is Amelia.” The pencil rendering was of a slender young girl, her head at a gentle tilt, eyes bright and receptive. “This is how I’ll always see her, the way she would listen whenever Susan and I would talk. I don’t know if it mattered much to her what we were saying as much as she craved the time that was spent specially with her.”
“You did this?” Audrey said, more as a statement than a question. “This makes me feel like I know her now.” She looked from the drawing to Ruth. “You are so talented. It’s beautiful, Ruth. Are there others? Can I see them?”
“I’ll let you guess who they are,” she replied, turning to the beginning of the pad.
From the stories and descriptions Ruth had offered over the past months, they were easy guesses. Susan and Amelia, the view from Ruth’s window, her parents, and Lillian. Audrey pointed her finger sharply at the next picture. “Now this is even more severe than I had imagined,” she said. “This has to be the house mother.”
“Mrs. Stranton. Then I believe I did her justice,” Ruth added with a raise of her eyebrows. “Our most difficult task—for me and Susan—was to undo the negatives that that woman forced on Amelia.”
“No wonder she relies on you so much.” She held Ruth’s eyes for seconds longer as if there was more she wanted to say, but added only, “No wonder.” She brought her focus back to the sketches and turned the page. With a smile and a shake of her head, she said, “This is incredible. How did you do this from memory?”
“Do you have any idea how many times you sat there reading the paper between bites of your dinner, and looking up at me like that when I came to the table?”
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
Ruth leaned over and pressed her lips to Audrey’s—warm with a gentle parting. “No,” she whispered, lifting her head, “I’m afraid I have no idea.”
The corners of Audrey’s lips curled upward, and she pulled Ruth against her chest. “Then I will have to show you.”
Chapter 28
The adrenaline surged to a level Audrey had not felt before. Her legs quivered uncharacteristically, even as she brought the car to a stop in The Bomber parking lot.
Ruth, waiting outside the door and no doubt just as anxious, jumped into the passenger seat. Her eyes wide with anticipation, she grabbed Audrey’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Keep the train on the rail and our passenger safe,” she said.
“From Nona,” Audrey replied.
“And her Moses,” Ruth added. “Here we go.”
The drive to Jackson was devoid of conversation. It had all been said. What was left was to do their part. The rest was out of their hands.
Audrey checked her watch. Exactly 7:15 when she pulled into the parking lot at the back of the hospital. She stopped short of the spot close to the door Lillian had indicated so that she could pull her hair up onto her head and cover it with Mr. Welly’s brown hat, the topper to his suit that she had borrowed from the closet. Ruth covered her tightly pinned bun with a black hat that had a large brim, much like Mrs. Stranton’s.
“Good?” Ruth asked.
“Good enough.”
With a deep breath Audrey pulled the car across the lot and into place. Maintenance trucks and staff cars lined one end of the building, and trash containers were lined up against the wall on the other side of the entrance. Ruth pulled the brim of the hat farther down over her forehead as two hospital workers emerged from the door to deposit trash into the containers. The same door, Audrey realized, that her Ruth had been expected to use, the same one Amelia would use. In and out with no more respect than was given to the soiled and discarded. She looked at the woman she loved, her profile softened in shadow, and vowed to do all she could to be sure Ruth knew her worth. The one thing she wanted more than anything else. The other was for Amelia to walk through that door.
Audrey looked again at her watch. 7:25. She was about to say something when the door opened again. She leaned forward in anticipation, but it was a janitor emptying a mop bucket in the gravel.
Ruth let out an audible breath, and “False alarm.”
“I’m getting worried,” Audrey said. “Do you think someone suspected the car wasn’t from the Home and wouldn’t let her come out?”
“The car at the Home is a black Ford. No one seemed to pay much attention before. Lillian just told me the car was here and I went out the door on my own.”
The door opened again, just a crack, then closed. Another ten minutes went by. It was more than Audrey could take. In a flash, Velma was in her thoughts, laughing and tipping her head back under the flow of the fountain, turning and coaxing and splashing with delight. Her Velma, never to be herself again. “I’m not going to let this happen again,” she said aloud.
“What?”
“She doesn’t know how bad it can be. She’s more afraid of the unknown than the abuse she knows.” Audrey grabbed the handle and opened the car door. “I have to go get her.”
Ruth grabbed Audrey’s arm to stop her. “Wait. If she doesn’t want to come with us, you can’t physically force her. Someone will call the police.”
“I have to try. Maybe I can find Lillian.” She pulled her arm free and stepped from the car as a frail, frightened girl emerged from the door.
“There she is!” Ruth said. “It’s Amelia.”
Audrey slipped back behind the wheel, and Ruth opened her door to motion for Amelia to hurry. She opened the back door of the car, ushered Amelia in, and followed her into the back seat. “Go,” she directed, “go.” She wrapped her arms around the girl’s thin frame and held her close. “Oh, Amelia, I’ve been so worried. Are you all right?”
Her voice was light, barely above a whisper. “Yes, I am now.”
“You are going to be safe now, Amelia,” Audrey emphasized, glancing into the rearview mirror. “That’s a promise.”
“And if there is one thing I know for sure about this woman—” Ruth placed her hand on Audrey’s shoulder“—it’s that you can count on her word. And her heart is bigger than the B-24s she builds.”
“Nurse Lillian told me nice things about you. Thank you, Audrey. And you, Ruth. What would I ever do without you?”
“There are a lot of people who care about you,” Ruth said.
“But I don’t understand why,” Amelia replied. “They don’t even know me.”
“Nurse Lillian and I know you. And the people who know us experience the same fears, question the same injustices, and they want the same chance for happiness. And not just for themselves, but for others, too. For you.”
“How am I ever going to be able to thank everyone?”
“By letting your wings grow, even wider and more beautiful than mine, so that you can soar wherever you want and be whoever you want to be. Honey, you can be a wife and a mother if you choose to be. You can be a teacher or a nurse, or own your own business someday. There are women doctors, and women pilots, Amelia, soaring the skies just like men do. Let your soul be free to dream and to plan. That’s how you can thank us.”
“Do I have to start tonight? Can’t I be with you for a while?”
“I wish you could. I miss you. There’s so much I want to talk with you about. But they know at the Home that you are gone by now. If they catch us, we’ll be arrested for kidnapping. We have to keep to the plan, Amelia.”
From her expression it was clear. “Oh, no, I didn’t know. I would never want you to get in trouble for me.”
“That’s why we couldn’t tell you. We didn’t want you to worry about us.” But Amelia’s frown persisted. “We’re going to be fine, really. The most dangerous part is almost over.”
The car pulled into the usual spot behind the hospital. Mrs. Stranton stared straight ahead beneath the large black rim of her hat. She was waiting in the usual silence for Amelia, today’s girl, to emerge from the back door. But something wasn’t usual tonight. Fifteen minutes and no one checking from the back door to see if the car was there.
Mrs. Stranton checked her
watch. “Joseph,” she said, “go see what is holding her up.”
He left the car and checked the hallway just inside the door where the girls were normally left, waiting in a wheelchair for the car to arrive. He returned to Mrs. Stranton and announced, “She’s not there.”
“What?”
“The wheelchair is in the hallway, but the girl isn’t there.”
“Well, this is unacceptable,” she replied. “They’re supposed to make sure that she’s ready before they call us.” Reluctantly she left the car. “Never had to go get a girl,” she muttered. “Come on, Joseph.”
They searched the hallway, lined with laundry carts and mop buckets, and the bathroom. Mrs. Stranton was visibly frustrated, her face flushed as she marched through the double doors to the main floor and up to the nurses’ station.
“Mrs. Stranton from the Crittenton Home,” she said. “I need to talk with Lillian Barton.”
The nurse behind the desk replied, “She’s just down the hall, I’ll get her.”
Minutes went by, enough to touch the ragged edge of Mrs. Stranton’s patience. She stood with her hands on her hips and stared down the hall.
Joseph broke the silence. “Maybe something happened and they have to keep her longer.” His attempt to ease her aggravation had no outward effect. Past experience convinced him not to try again.
“I will be having a talk with Mr. Burgess,” she said, still staring straight ahead. “Someone needs to answer for this.” She turned to look for a staff member when Joseph stopped her.
“Mrs. Barton is coming,” he said.
“Well,” Mrs. Stranton began the moment the nurse was in earshot, “just what is going on? We have been waiting,” she checked her watch, “for over thirty minutes. Why isn’t our girl ready?”
Thirty minutes, Lillian thought, not quite enough time but a good start. Mrs. Stranton’s reaction was exactly as she had expected, and now her response was well-rehearsed. “She was ready, right on time. I left her with an orderly right where the girls always wait.” Not a bit of a lie.
The Liberators of Willow Run Page 16