Rory's Promise

by Michaela MacColl

“They are going to proper families who will give thema home and raise them as good Catholics,” Sister Anna said loudly. “They are very lucky.”

  Rory overheard and snorted. “Some home, on the other side of the country.” Rory's impudence was carefully planned; she didn't want Sister Anna to wonder why she was being so docile.

  Sister Anna fixed Rory with a stern glare. “Rory, that's enough. Now say your farewells to Violet; we'll be leaving soon.” Raising her voice, she scolded one of the boys for letting a trunk drop to the ground.

  Rory knelt down so she could be at Violet's level. “It's time for you to go.”

  Violet glanced at Sister Anna. “All right, Rory.”

  “I won't see you for a very long time,” Rory said deliber-ately, conscious of Sister Anna's listening ear.

  Nodding, Violet said, “I know.”

  “You're being very brave,” Rory said, watching Sister Anna from the corner of her eye. As soon as the nun's attention was diverted, she whispered sharply to Violet, “Too brave! You've got to look upset! Like this.” Rory made a sad and anxious face. As though Rory was looking into a mirror, Violet's face contorted to match Rory's. Violet blinked so many times that her bright blue eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her lower lip so it could tremble in a pitiful manner.

  “Good girl,” Rory said approvingly. “Now, a last hug.”

  Pressed tightly against Rory's body, Violet whispered, “This is a game, right? You're coming to rescue me?”

  “Sooner than you think.” She unwrapped Violet's armsfrom around her waist. “I promise.” She touched the medal hanging around Violet's throat with the tip of her finger. “Take care of Mama's necklace. I want it back and it had better be in perfect condition.”

  Squeezing her lips together, Violet nodded. Rory buried her face in Violet's neck and inhaled everything she loved about her little sister. Then she lifted Violet up and into the waiting seat in the taxi. Each cab would carry half a dozen children and at least one minder. Now, it was time to make sure she wasn't left behind. She turned and stopped dead, almost running into Sister Anna's dark skirts.

  Her voice unusually tender, Sister Anna said, “I'll watch over her on the journey.”

  Rory nodded. The tears she brushed away were not as pretend as she would have liked. What if something went wrong? What if this really was the last time she saw Violet?

  “Sister, it's too hard to watch Vi leave,” Rory said. “I'm going inside.”

  Sister Anna looked as if she was about to say something when a trunk crashed from the top of a carriage to the pavement. She rushed over to make certain there was no damage.

  This was her chance. Rory slipped between the cabs to the street side. Shielded from the Sisters’ view, she ran to the last of the carriages. Catching hold of the lowest rung on the ladder on the back of the cab, she pulled herself up as quickly as she could. This was one of the most dangerous moments of her plan. Could she hide on top of the cab amidst the luggage without being seen? She squeezed between two trunks, tucking her skirt close to her body. The only way to see below was to slither to the front of the cab and prop herself up on the rail to peek at the street.

  Then one child realized he was leaving the only home he had ever known. The wailing started with him and spread to the other children, from cab to cab, like a tenement fire leaping from building to building. Peeking over the railing, Rory saw the nuns were crying too. Even Sister Anna had tears in her eyes. As though Sister Anna had a sixth sense, she glanced up at the top of the carriages. Rory pushed her body into the cab roof and closed her eyes tight. With relief she heard Sister Anna announce it was time to go to the ferry that would take the group to the train. Sister Anna stepped briskly into the first cab in line without a backward glance at the Foundling. Why should she, Rory asked herself. Sister Anna would be coming back.

  The first cab lurched into motion, followed by the rest. Rory's driver shook his reins and the taxi moved forward in line. Rory propped herself up on one elbow and watched the bulk of the Foundling disappear down the street. Then it hit her. She would never see any of this again. No New York. No Foundling. No Sister Anna.

  Rory shook herself. Enough of self-pity. Hadn't Rory always known exactly what she wanted? If Rory had to abandon every familiar person, place, and thing to stay with Violet she would do it. Just before the cab turned a corner, Rory waved and whispered, “So long, Foundling.”

  PART TWO

  The Journey

  CHAPTER Fourteen

  WEDGED BETWEEN THE TRUNKS, RORY TWISTED HER BODY SO she could kneel and watch the city fly by. Ahead of her, she could see the line of eight other cabs, like a funeral procession making its serpentine way across Sixty-Ninth Street to Fifth Avenue. Underneath her, the sniffling and moaning of six little kids and the exasperated tones of the nurse floated up to her. Rory smothered a giggle; fifty-seven children would overwhelm the nurses and nuns in no time at all.

  It was forty blocks from the Foundling to the ferry. Rory got to see a new Manhattan, as different from Hell's Kitchen and the Foundling as chalk was from cheese. She forgot the trunk poking her in the back as posh hotels towered over the streets. But they were nothing compared to St. Patrick's Cathedral. She'd been inside once before when the Sisters took the orphans at Easter, but she hadn't had the chance to admire the soaring spires. She lay flat and imagined her soul floating up into the sky, as though this cathedral was the entryway to the kingdom of heaven.

  As the cab traveled south, the women on the sidewalks became more fashionable. Rory forgot herself in the thrill of gawking at the latest styles—the women here wore elaborately flowered hats and dresses with barely a bustle. One young woman was riding a bicycle. The front wheel was almost as high as Rory's taxicab. Rory let go of her grip on the railing to wave gaily. The young woman looked surprised for a moment, then smiled and waved back.

  The cabs turning at Thirty-Fourth Street shook Rory out of her reverie—she didn't have much time to figure a way off this cab roof, onto the ferry, and on board the Sisters’ train—all without being seen. One glimpse of her and Sister Anna would send her back to the Foundling. And that would be the end of Rory and Violet together. She could not fail. She pulled a kerchief she had borrowed from the clothes bin in the older girls’ dormitory out of her pocket and tied it around her head to disguise her flaming red hair.

  The cab turned into the Ferry Terminal. After a short wait it rumbled onto the Pennsylvania Railroad ferry, jostling for its place among other cabs, wagons, and even a few automobiles. Rory crept to the edge of the carriage, watching and waiting. Everywhere Rory looked she saw travelers in vehicles and on foot, all much too busy to notice one girl on top of a cab. To her surprise, the Sisters didn't leave the cabs. The surest way to stay with Violet was to remain where she was, so Rory waited and enjoyed the fresh breeze off the river. From her high perch, she had a perfect view of the far-off shore of New Jersey. Other than a little cluster of buildings right in front of the ferry, New Jersey seemed to be mostly trees.

  The ferry blew its horn three times and began its journey across the Hudson River. Beneath her, Rory heard the renewed sobbing of small children who had never been on a boat before. It took all of Rory's determination not to climb down and check on Violet. But she had to think of the plan. Violet needed Rory to stay hidden until it was too late for the Sisters to send her back.

  The river was choppy and the wind was cold out on the water. Rory wondered if she would ever see New York and the Foundling again. She tore her eyes away from the shrinking city. There was no use in looking back, she thought; time to worry about the future. Especially the next hour or so.

  The ferry bumped against the dock on the New Jersey side. A large sign proclaimed it was Exchange Place. Workers pulled the ferry to the dock with ropes slick with the gray river water. After a wait that seemed endless, Rory's cab moved forward to dry land. It lined up next to the other eight cabs. As soon as Sister Anna got out of the first cab and began supervi
sing a small army of porters to collect the luggage from the tops of the cabs, Rory clutched the railing on the cab roof, ready to spring to the ground.

  But she hesitated. Was it better to get off before the porters reached her cab? Or wait, hoping to remain unseen and then make her escape when the carriages were unloaded?

  An authoritative voice said, “Hurry up, we have to get these kids to their train.”

  Before she had made up her mind, the children beneath her had been helped out—some with tearstained faces—and were gathering in a tight knot near Sister Anna.

  The carriage shook as a porter scurried up the ladder. Rory nearly screamed when the porter's bald head and then his face popped up over the top rung. The porter took one look at Rory, recoiled, and fell back to the ground with a loud cry.

  “Stop fooling about. We don't have any time for your jokes,” the authoritative voice said.

  “There's someone up here,” the porter exclaimed. “Scared the bejabbers out of me.”

  “Let me see.” A heavier body started clambering up the ladder.

  Holding on to the railing at the top of the cab, Rory swung her body off the carriage away from the ladder. She dropped four feet to the ground, hitting with an impact that took her breath away. Then she scurried under the carriage.

  “I don't see anyone.” The authoritative voice was exas-perated.

  “’Twas a girl! She was there, I swear!”

  “Have you been drinking again? I warned you last time …”

  “I haven't touched a drop!” The porter's bald head shone with sweat.

  Through the carriage wheel's spokes, Rory shifted her view from the porter's boots to the other side of the carriage where she could keep her eye on Sister Anna. She was counting the children in pairs, directing the frightened children into a neat line. The children huddled together, clasping each other's hands tightly. Violet clutched Sister Eileen's hand.

  Several of the children looked green; the motion of the ferry on the water had not agreed with their delicate tummies. Violet didn't appear sick; she looked furious, her lower lip between her teeth. Violet's eyes crisscrossed the terminal looking for Rory. Rory knew that Violet would have something sharp to say when they were finally together again.

  The chief porter, the one with the authoritative voice, approached the Sisters. “Sisters, we have all the baggage. We'd best hurry,” he said. “The train leaves in a few minutes.”

  “They won't leave without us,” Sister Anna said confidently.

  “They would and they will, Sister!”

  While Sister Anna argued with the porter, Rory slipped out from under the carriage. She circled wide away from the Foundling group to blend in with the other passengers crowding into the station. She looked back to see Sister Anna leading the way to the train, her back straight and her black cape floating out behind her. She looked like one of the carved wooden ladies on the front of sailing ships, cutting through the waves of people. The passage of almost sixty orphans through the chaos in the station caused a murmur of comments and smiles from the other passengers. Even Rory had to admit they looked adorable. There was Violet staring about the busy station with a wide-open mouth.

  “Hold on, Vi. Just get on the train and I'll be with you soon,” Rory muttered. She gave herself a shake. She had to forget about Vi for a minute and get going. First, to find the St. Louis train and get aboard before the Sisters did. Rory spotted a chalk-written sign listing the departures. She scanned it impatiently until she saw “St. Louis Express. Track 3.” Taking off at a run, she headed for the tracks.

  A steam engine waited at the end of the platform, belching out little puffs of smoke as though it was getting ready for a major effort. Travelers were already boarding. Although there were dozens of passengers on the platform, she felt suddenly alone, as though the sun only shone on her, inviting everyone to notice the unaccompanied orphan. Her scalp started to sweat under her kerchief.

  “All aboard!” A man in uniform was bellowing his message up and down the platform. Rory took care not to attract his attention.

  She didn't have much time. A large man in a brown checked suit stood at the rear of the train, pacing and looking at his watch every few seconds. He was arguing with an official from the train.

  “They'll be here. The Sisters never miss a train,” the man in the suit said. “Have you any idea how difficult it is to move fifty-seven small children? And their luggage? And food and bedding for a week?”

  “No,” the official answered. “And Mr. Swayne, I don't care. This train has a schedule to meet. As a courtesy we permitted your group to add a car to the train …”

  “Half of your company's Board of Directors are patrons of the Foundling Hospital,” Mr. Swayne retorted. “I assure you, your train will wait if need be. But I think I see them.”

  Hiding her face, Rory hurried past the two men as though she were a paying passenger. She made her way past the engine car, followed by the coal car, the baggage car, and several passenger cars where men in uniforms directed passengers. The farther down the platform she went, the more worried she became. Her heart was pounding and her palms were moist. How was she to find the Sisters’ car without asking anyone? Thinking of Mr. Swayne's conversation she wondered how you added a car to the train anyway. Maybe it was better to just sneak onto the train and find the Sisters after the train left the station. How hard could it be to find almost sixty orphans, escorted by nuns in full black habits and nurses wearing their working white uniforms?

  Taking a deep breath, Rory climbed into the nearest car. Unluckily, a conductor was making his way down the rows of bench seats. Rory ducked behind the last bench and the wall and tried to make her lanky body small and unnoticeable.

  “What do we have here?” A mincing voice accompanied a strong grip on her arm. Rory squealed as he hauled her from her hiding place.

  “Where's your ticket, miss?” The conductor was a small man whose uniform seemed a tad too big.

  Rory straightened up and met his eyes squarely. Her only chance was to brazen it out. “I'm with the Foundling,” Rory muttered. “Do you know where they are?”

  The conductor frowned. “If you really were with the Foundling, you'd know they have their own car at the rear of the train. And the Children's Aid Society kids already boarded.” He nudged her back to the doorway. With every step Rory knew she was closer to losing everything. She didn't move and he would have to shove her to get her to leave.

  “No ticket, no ride, little girl,” he said. “Now move, before I call the police.”

  Rory slowly let him push her. She was halfway out the door when she saw Sister Anna not twenty feet away.

  The man in the brown suit walked backward in front of Sister Anna. “The train won't wait for you, Sister.”

  “Of course it will, Mr. Swayne,” Sister Anna said, but her step quickened. The little children were practically running and the porters with all the trunks were red-faced and panting.

  Rory whirled around, her back to the platform and Sister Anna. “Mister, I really am an orphan. My little sister is with the Foundling. If you throw me off then my family is wrecked forever. Please let me stay!” She locked her hands around the door handle and held on for her life.

  “If you haven't paid, you don't ride my train.” He began to pry her fingers off the handle. Out on the platform, Sister Anna passed by, too intent on her argument with Mr. Swayne, the Foundling's agent, to notice Rory.

  “But mister, just give me a chance!” Rory said desperately.

  “OFF!” he shouted and pushed her from the train. Rory landed on the platform, falling on one knee and tearing her dress. He closed the door behind her with a slam. Her kerchief fell to the ground and through the tears in her eyes Rory groped to get it back.

  At that moment the train whistle blew twice. Rory looked up and down the platform. There were no more passengers. The train jerked as the steam engine began pulling out of the station. Unstoppable.

  It was too
late. She had lost Violet. Her stomach contracted and she retched. Her head in her hands, she felt for the first time what it was like to be alone.

  “Hey, Red!” A voice from above startled her. Rory jumped to her feet, looking up. “Remember me? From jail!”

  Brigid was hanging from a window just barely wider than her frame. She was grinning. The train moved slowly, taking her closer to Rory and then away.

  A jolt of hope through her body felt like lightning. Rory ran alongside Brigid's window. “I have to get on this train!”

  “Why should I help you?” Brigid's broad smile had more than a little malice in it. Rory didn't care. She had a second chance and she wasn't going to waste it.

  “’Cause I'll owe you one!” Rory panted.

  “How do I know you're good for it?”

  “I never break a promise!” Rory shouted.

  “It's a deal!” She leaned from the window and stuck both her hands out toward Rory. “Jump!” she commanded.

  Rory stretched out her arms and leapt for the moving train.

  CHAPTER Fifteen

  RORY’S HANDS CAUGHT HOLD OF BRIGID’S. HER KNEES AND feet banged hard against the side of the train. The clicking of the wheels against the rails sped up and the passing air pushed against her body, blowing her skirt up over her head. Luckily there was no one to notice. Rory saw the train had cleared the platform. If she fell now she'd drop to sharp stones.

  “Pull yourself up,” Brigid ordered.

  “I'm trying,” Rory gasped. “Don't let go!”

  Rory struggled to climb up, the toes of her worn boots sliding against the side of the train. Rory could see the top of the window was cutting into Brigid's arms, but the girl's grip didn't loosen. Rory kicked at the side but her feet couldn't find any purchase.

  “Hurry!” Rory cried.

  With a huge yank, Brigid hauled Rory up. Rory let go with her right hand and took hold of the window sash. Brigid grabbed Rory's shoulders and Rory tumbled through the window to the wooden bench beneath.