“But you’re going to change things now?”
“I am,” he said, as if he’d made up his mind. “At least I’ll see what Mrs. Robertson thinks about it and go from there.”
“I can’t imagine her not liking the idea, Sam, especially because you were raised there. You know what those boys are dealing with. You won’t have to try to put yourself in their place, because you’ve been there, and they know it.” Emma was excited about his idea; surely Mrs. Robertson would be, too.
They’d arrived at Mrs. Holloway’s, and Emma turned to Sam. “Would you like to come in? I know everyone would love to see you.”
“I’d like to, but I’m not through with my shift yet. Another time, I will, though.”
“All right. I’ll tell them you’ll be stopping by.”
Sam pushed his hat back on his head and smiled. “I’ll see you soon, Emma.”
Sam never had been the kind to carry a grudge, and for that Emma was grateful. “See you, Sam.”
She watched him leave and then hurried up the steps, her heart lighter than it had been in two days.
❧
Sam strutted down the street, feeling better than he had in several days. Emma seemed more herself today than she had on Saturday. Maybe she’d had time to realize that he wasn’t going to change and that he truly believed the police department was going to get better. He hoped so.
She seemed almost as excited as he was about him working with the boys at the orphanage. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it sooner, and he suddenly knew how Mrs. Holloway felt about not bringing the girls to live with her sooner. He couldn’t wait to talk to Mrs. Robertson about his idea.
Once he and his partner were relieved of their duties, they caught the same trolley. Richard was married and lived a few blocks away from where Sam lived.
“How do you think you’re going to like working in Murray Hill?”
“I think it’s going to be a lot quieter than where I’ve been working, but I think I’ll like it.” It helped that he knew people in the neighborhood and hoped to be able to see them more often.
“It is quiet for the most part, but not always. Still, after you’ve been working in the Bowery, you’ll probably appreciate the calmer atmosphere.”
Sam nodded. “There is that.”
“You won’t be bored, I assure you. There are always mischief makers in these kinds of neighborhoods, and you’d be surprised how many robberies you’ll be called in on.” Richard laughed and shook his head. “Everything from furniture and jewelry to pies off windowsills. And then of course in the business section, there are attempted robberies and all kinds of troubles. With us switching with other teams, you get to see a lot of everything, just not quite as much violent crime.”
“That will be a relief,” Sam said. “I’ve already seen enough violence to last a lifetime.”
“It can still happen here, but nowhere near as often,” Richard said. “I think you’ll like it as much as I do.”
The trolley came to a stop, and Richard stood. “See you tomorrow. Have a good evening.”
“See you,” Sam said. All in all, his first day on his new beat had gone well, and he looked forward to learning the area and the people. In a few weeks he’d feel more comfortable, he was sure. And it helped that he knew Mrs. Holloway and would be seeing the girls. He’d been pleased to find out what trolley Emma rode to work and back, and he knew he’d manage to see more of her in the days to come. The thought had him looking forward to the rest of the week.
He grabbed a bite to eat at one of the nearby cafés and then headed over to the orphanage to talk to Mrs. Robertson. No need in putting it off. He wanted to speak to her while she could sense his excitement about trying to prepare some of the boys for life on their own.
Although it was a bit later than he would normally visit, Sam hoped she’d be able to talk to him. Usually things were quieting down this time of day.
One of the older boys answered the door, and his face split into a huge grin. “Sam? Sam Tucker? It that you?”
“It is. And you’re—”
“Walter Renfro. I was only about twelve when you left.”
“I remember you, Walter.” He was a good kid, tried to follow the rules and help the younger kids. Maybe he’d be a help with Sam’s endeavor if Mrs. Robertson liked the idea. “Do you think you could see if Mrs. Robertson has a few minutes free for me?”
“Sure. Come on in.”
Walter hurried off only to return with Mrs. Robertson following right behind.
She seemed as glad to see him as she had a few days earlier. “Sam, how good to see you again so soon! Come in. What brings you here?”
“I have an idea I’d like to present to you if you have a little time.”
“Of course I do.” She turned to Walter. “Would you make sure the younger boys are getting ready for bed, Walter?”
“Yes ma’am. It’s good to see you, Sam.”
“Same to you, Walter. I hope to see you again soon.”
“Let’s go into my office and talk. Would you like me to have some coffee sent in?”
“No ma’am. I’m fine.”
He followed her into her office, and once she’d taken her seat, he took the one across from her.
“Now, what is this idea you have?”
Sam began to explain what it was he wanted to do, and he could tell she was interested by her smile and the way her eyes lit up.
“Oh Sam. I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of you and how excited I am about your idea. Having a man take interest in them, helping them get ready for the time when they must leave and get out on their own is exactly what my boys need. I’ve tried to get something like this started before, but I haven’t garnered the support I wanted. You do realize that it’s something that you can’t do one day and then just drop? That would be worse than not helping at all. Most of these young people have had more than their share of disappointment in their lifetimes. But of course you know that.”
“I do. And that is why I want to do something to help and to try and make it easier for them when they leave here.”
“I’m all for it. You plan how you want to do it. I have two young men who will be leaving next year—Walter Renfro and Carl White. They are both good boys, but I think they are a bit nervous about going it alone. Will you be able to work with both of them, or were you thinking one-on-one?”
“I’ll work with however many I need to. At first I’d thought one-on-one, and I can still do some of that. But maybe if I can get together with both of them, I can help them stay in touch with each other after they leave?”
“That would be a great idea. When do you want to start? You know you could come to dinner and then maybe—”
“Visit with them for a while? Get to know them and gain their trust?”
“Yes. Sam, this is going to be such a major help to these boys, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve thought of it. I worry about these young people having to get out on their own without any guidance once they leave here. Your idea is an answer to a prayer.”
Her words humbled Sam, and he wondered again why he’d never thought of doing this before now. Probably, like many, he’d been eager to get out on his own, thinking he knew what he was doing, only to find he didn’t have any idea how hard it would be or how lonely.
“I’m glad you like my idea. With the Lord’s help, I’m sure it will work out.”
“I am, too,” Mrs. Robertson said. “Now as I said, you figure out what will work best for you and we’ll get started. I’m not going to say anything to the boys until you decide best how to get started. But get back to me soon as you can. With them leaving next summer, we can’t get started soon enough.”
Sam nodded. “For starters, why don’t I come to supper tomorrow night and we’ll see if the boys are even interested?”
“That sounds great. I’m sure they will be. They were young when you left, but they looked up to you a lot, just as the younger
boys now look up to them. Only they don’t really realize it.”
“I can understand that. I didn’t either. I wish I had. But now is the time to remedy some of that.” He stood. “I’ll let you get everyone settled down and I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Supper is still at six?”
“It is. I’ll see you out. Sam, I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Robertson. But I’m still a work in progress. I hope not to disappoint you.”
“You won’t. I’m sure of it. See you tomorrow. I’ll make sure we have one of your favorite meals.”
Sam headed back to his room feeling as if he might actually be able to make a difference in some of the boys’ lives. With the help of the Lord, he was going to do all he could.
If it weren’t so late, he’d think about going over to talk to Emma about it right then. She seemed to think it was as good an idea as he did. He’d like to tell her Mrs. Robertson did, too. He wondered if he might get her interested in doing something similar for the girls.
five
Emma felt a little disgruntled when she didn’t see Sam the next day—or the next. She wasn’t sure why she should feel that way. He was working, after all, and he’d never promised to meet her trolley every day.
Part of her problem was that when she’d told everyone she’d run into Sam and that he’d said he’d be coming around, they seemed to expect him to do it right away—as she had. But after several days of not running into him at the trolley and him not coming by, they were back to blaming her for his not showing up. And so was she.
But she couldn’t help that it bothered her so much that he’d become a policeman. It just did. Still, she was disappointed that he hadn’t come by. It was as if she needed to see him to make sure others weren’t corrupting him in some way in the department. And yet—she knew Sam. Surely he couldn’t change that much. He could be a policeman one could trust—if one could trust any of them.
Emma sighed with aggravation at herself, and at her family for blaming her because Sam hadn’t dropped by. They weren’t much happier than she was that he’d become a policeman—they just hid it better.
The trolley stopped at Mary’s stop, and even she could tell Emma wasn’t in the best of moods when she sat down beside her.
“What happened, Emma? You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”
For some reason, she felt that way, but as she couldn’t explain it there was no reason to say so. “Just out of sorts, I guess.”
“Maybe you got out of bed on the wrong side?”
“I wish I had that excuse, but no, I got out on the right side, but maybe not with the right attitude.” Suddenly, Emma remembered the dream she’d been having right before she woke up. In it, she saw Sam getting beaten up and she didn’t know if it was by criminals or other policemen. Suddenly she realized that part of her problem with him being a cop was that she was afraid he would be hurt—or worse.
“Maybe you had a bad dream.”
“I did.”
“That was it, then. I don’t like bad dreams,” Mary said. “They always set me on edge.”
The memory of the nightmare—for that was what it was—came to Emma in full color, and she shook her head to get it out of her mind. She’d pray not to have any more of those kinds of dreams again. And for the Lord to keep Sam safe from all harm.
“That was probably it. But I’m going to stop thinking about it and try to get in a better mood.”
“Good.”
They talked about all manner of things—comparing notes from their newspaper reading so they were up on all the happenings around the city. It still amazed Emma that callers seemed to think they were in on everything that went on, from the social activities of the very rich to what went on in city hall—and everything in between.
But it kept her aware of what went on in her city in a way she never had been before, and she realized more and more each day how blessed she was.
“You were right about the Astors hosting a ball this weekend. I suppose we’d better read the society page from front to back on Sunday so we can find out how it went. Several of my callers who didn’t manage to get invited are bound to want to know—even though I’m sure they read the same papers we do.”
Mary laughed. “They just want to talk it over as if they were there. I wonder what it would be like to be at one of those things?”
“I don’t know, and truthfully, I’m afraid I’d work up such a case of nerves I wouldn’t enjoy myself anyway. But it would be nice to see what all the ladies are wearing in color instead of black and white. The photographs just don’t do justice to the wonderful descriptions.”
“I know.”
The trolley stopped on the corner just down from the telephone company, and they got off and hurried to work. Their supervisor frowned on tardiness, so they quickly relieved the night shift.
“It’s going to be busy this morning,” Harold said. “Those women are already trying to find out what their friends are wearing to the charity ball this weekend. You’ll be able to handle it much better than I can,” he said as she put on the headset and slipped into the chair just as he slid out of it.
He wasn’t kidding her. The board was lit up everywhere, and Emma quickly got to work connecting first one and then another caller. She glanced down the line and saw Mary and the others doing the very same thing. Looked like the day was going to fly by.
She smiled as a familiar line lit up, and she quickly put the pin in. “Central. What may I do for you today, Mrs. Granville?”
“Why Emma, I’m so glad it’s you and not that young man. He is no help at all today,” Mrs. Granville said. She was one of the sweetest callers Emma dealt with. But she seemed a bit flustered today.
“What happened?”
“I asked him to connect me to the Waldorf so that I could check on the room I’ve reserved for Saturday evening. It’s just too hard for me to get dressed here and stay so late. I like being where all the action is, you know.”
Emma stifled a giggle. Mrs. Granville had mentioned that on her next birthday she’d be turning eighty. Emma was encouraged to see that she was still very active at her age. That meant Mrs. Holloway could be, too, and she wanted her to be around as long as possible.
“Didn’t he do that?”
“No. He said the line was busy and to try later.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Granville. We have had a lot of calls for them lately, but let me try. It might take a few minutes though, so please be patient.”
Emma breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to connect Mrs. Granville immediately. Sweet as she was, one never knew when a caller would request to speak to a supervisor.
By the end of her shift she’d heard snippets of conver-sations about the upcoming charity ball—from what dress-maker one family was using to where they’d found the perfect shoes to go with their outfit. Emma couldn’t help but wonder if they ever wore the same dress to a different ball, or did they have a new one made for each one?
She and Mary headed home comparing notes on what they knew. It wasn’t much when it only came in snippets before another line lit up. It was hard not to listen in for a second or two, and they’d even caught their supervisor doing the same thing.
“You really never long to go to one of these functions?” Mary asked.
Emma laughed. “I can’t imagine it. Not something on that scale.”
“I can’t either. And I’d be so nervous about it I wouldn’t be able to have a good time, anyway.”
“I feel the same way,” Emma said. “But I do like hearing about it and imagining what it would be like.”
“Yes, so do I,” Mary agreed. The trolley pulled up at Mary’s stop and she stood and shook her skirts before leaving. “See you tomorrow, Emma.”
“See you, then.”
For the rest of the ride to her trolley stop, Emma gazed out the window, wondering if Sam might be at her stop to meet her when she got there, and her pulse gave a little jum
p when she saw him standing at the corner. He was there. She couldn’t stifle her smile as she stood and shook out her skirts before stepping out of the trolley.
❧
Emma’s smile made Sam glad he’d made the effort to be there when she got home from work.
“Sam. I’d begun to think you’d been transferred to another beat.”
“No. Just been working at the other end of this one. I’m glad to be back today. I was hoping to catch you.”
“You don’t need to catch me. You can stop by anytime.”
“I was going to do that if you hadn’t been here. I’ve been wanting to tell you that I spoke with Mrs. Robertson and she really likes my idea about helping the young men at the orphanage.”
They fell in step together, and Emma smiled up at him. “I told you she would.”
“You did. I do have another idea I’d like to run by you though.”
“Oh? What is that?”
“I know the girls have Mrs. Robertson to turn to. But I began to think that, well, you know, some of them won’t talk to her about everything—it might be easier for them to talk to someone nearer their age. And for those about to leave, they are no different than the boys. They need to talk to someone who has left and is working now. I thought you might be interested in working with them.”
“Oh, I’d love it, Sam, but I know how fortunate we are to be living with Mrs. Holloway. Not all the girls are going to be so—”
“No, they won’t. But you are still working, are you not?”
“Yes. . .”
“And they are going to have to work, too. I’m sure you can give them good advice about how to find a job and keep it.”
“I believe I could do that. I’d like to help; you know that.”
“I do. That’s why I wanted to tell you about it. I haven’t said anything to Mrs. Robertson about it, but I’m sure she’ll love the idea.”
“I think she’d be happy with anything we can do to help the others.”
Love Calling Page 4