Orphan at My Door

by Jean Little

  “You will please follow me,” Mother said.

  She turned slowly, looking more like a sailing ship than ever, and walked into the parlour. There was nothing he could do but follow. As she shut the door, she gave me a look that said she was counting on me to make certain that, when Mr. Stone came back out to search for his Home Boy, Jasper would not be there for him to find.

  I raced up the stairs. Sparrow was dressing her brother, shoving his arms into an old shirt of Tom’s.

  “Mother’s got him shut up with her in the sitting room,” I said, gabbling the words so fast it was amazing they understood me. “Oh, Sparrow, what can we do?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But Jasper can’t go anywhere in a nightshirt.”

  Then I was inspired. The Johns would help! Roberta had been in on the whole story, and I knew she had told her mother about Jasper. Her mother had tried to get Roberta to tell more, but Marianna had pledged her to secrecy before sharing the story. I could not ask my mother what I should do and so, for the first time in my life, I decided what we should do next and saw to it that Tom and Marianna helped me.

  We sneaked Jasper down the back way, without a sound. I scribbled a note to Roberta’s mother explaining what had happened. Then Tom lifted Jasper up onto his bicycle. Jasper was reaching out for his sister and tears were spilling down his poor hollow cheeks.

  “Mr. Stone is in there. Hold on, Jasper. We must ride like the wind if we are to escape the evil tyrant,” my clever brother said into the little boy’s ear.

  Then they were off, heading for Roberta’s house, with my note explaining everything tucked into Tom’s pocket. Thank goodness the drive does not go by the parlour windows. They passed Father coming up the side of the house. He stopped to stare. I ran to meet him.

  “Mr. Stone is in with Mother,” I told him breathlessly.

  “How on earth did he find out?”

  I hesitated, but he had to know some time.

  “David,” I said over a lump in my throat. “He rode out there and told him.”

  Father looked sick. I hope I never in my whole life make such sadness come into his eyes. Then he hurried into the house.

  Mother and Father between them got rid of Mr. Stone, although he insisted on searching the back bedrooms. David must have said Jasper was in one of them.

  “Our Home Girl sleeps up here,” Father told him in words that sounded chipped from the blocks of ice the man brings for the ice chest.

  I can’t write more now, dear Diary. I have to go to sleep. The house is filled with worry. Nobody is speaking to David. He tried to say he did it because Mother was sick and needed all Marianna’s attention.

  Mother just looked at him.

  “Oh, David,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

  She had tears on her face and Sparrow took her back to bed. I’m crying now. Tomorrow we will have to go over to Roberta’s. It feels as though I used to have a whole family, and now it is broken.

  Thursday morning, August 5

  I think the baby is coming. Mother started having pain. Father almost took me over to stay with Cousin Anna, but Marianna told him I should stay right here where I could be of help.

  “My mam said all women should know these things,” she said to him. “It’s her right. She’s no infant.” I don’t know what she meant, but he looked at me and then nodded slowly.

  “Very sensible. Do whatever Marianna tells you to,” he said.

  I am getting tired of being told to obey Marianna. I would anyway. Mother began having her pains in the night but they seem to come and go. In between she talks to me and looks like her ordinary self.

  I wish I knew what to expect. I can tell you, dear Diary, that I am afraid.

  Early afternoon

  The doctor came. He has been here most of the day. Mother’s pains stopped and did not start again. The baby is coming a couple of weeks early. Marianna said Mother was not expecting to “go into labour” until the end of August. Will it hurt the baby if it comes too soon? Nobody tells me anything.

  “Go into labour” sounds strange.

  “The baby’s just taking a rest while he gathers up his strength for the big push,” Dr. Graham said. “He knows he might have his work cut out for him.”

  “She knows,” Mother said faintly, smiling a tiny smile at me. “Victoria wants a sister.”

  Dr. Graham chuckled.

  “We’ll do our best,” he said. “But she’s putting in her order a little late in the day.”

  But his eyes were not laughing. Is he afraid? Does he know something terrible? Joan Macgregor’s mother died having her little brother. I wish I had not remembered that.

  Friday, August 6

  Today began as another day of waiting. I felt as though I were going to explode and fly about the room in little screeching bits. Then Mrs. Cameron came over and sat down next to my mother.

  “Victoria Cope, you look positively peaked,” she said, shaking her head at me. “Lilias will be fine with me here. Go outside and get some fresh air.”

  I hesitated. Then Mother smiled at me and nodded toward the door. Next thing, they were gossiping away and I was forgotten. So I left.

  I found Tom out in the garden and we were talking when we both caught sight of Father and David coming out of the house together. They did not see us. They looked agitated. We stared across the hollyhocks at them and then, without saying a word to each other, we crept close.

  I heard David say, “But I told Nathan I would come over to his house.”

  “Nathan will survive without you,” Father said, not smiling at all. “I want you to come to Roberta Johns’s house with me.”

  “Why?” David blurted. His voice squeaked the way it still does when he is nervous.

  I was surprised he dared ask. Usually, when Father says “Jump,” we jump.

  “You’ll see,” Father told him. “I have to take some medicine over to Mrs. Forbes on the way. You take the reins.”

  As they turned to go to the stable, Tom and I didn’t even need to ask each other. The minute they disappeared, we broke into a run. Because they had to deliver the medicine first, we actually reached Roberta’s ahead of Father.

  Luckily, Roberta saw us coming and we had a chance to tell her what was happening.

  “Follow me,” she whispered, beckoning.

  She led us to the big snowball bush next to the house. The parlour window was right above it and it was wide open to catch the breeze.

  We crawled into the shelter of its branches. Tom stuck his head out and pulled it back fast.

  “They’re coming up the walk,” he hissed. “Dr. Graham is with them and David looks sick.”

  We all heard Mrs. Johns greeting them. “Right this way,” she said. “The little lad will be nervous at first. He is so afraid someone will make him go back to that beast. It’s all right, Jasper. These are your friends. You remember Dr. Cope.”

  After that, we took turns rising on our toes to peek. David looked snooty at first. Then father showed him Jasper’s poor back and his crooked arm and his bones which still stick out. You can count every knob in his spine. The welts and bruises still showed.

  “This is dreadful,” Dr. Graham growled. It was not a bit like his everyday voice.

  “He’s red with rage,” Roberta whispered.

  I looked and saw the veins bulging out in his forehead.

  Father said he wanted a witness because, if he hauled Mr. Stone before the law, there were plenty who would stand up and swear the boy was getting his just desserts.

  “I know how strong the feeling against these children is running among some of our leading citizens,” Dr. Graham said. “It is criminal. I’ve heard a medical man I won’t name say that the boys and girls sent out are diseased in mind and body. The folk at Hazelbrae, and in Toronto, too, protest, but it does little good.”

  Then he persuaded Jasper to talk about what had happened to him. David looked sicker and sicker as Jasper told about being beaten, left to
sleep on the bare floor in the back shed with the dog, given no supper lots of times.

  Roberta choked back a sob as Jasper told how he had thrown the dog a bare bone, and when the animal ran to get it, he would steal the mouldy crusts Mr. Stone had put out for it. Jasper said he felt terrible doing this because the dog was starving too, but he could not find any other food. Sometimes, if Mr. Stone went out, his sister would slip him something, but the man seemed to know every time. She was scared of him too. Jasper stole eggs from under the hens, but they were old and skinny and they didn’t lay much.

  I was glad Sparrow had not come with us. It hurt so to hear him. I can’t write any more now. When we got home, I was afraid the baby would have been born while I was gone, but nothing seemed to have changed.

  Hurry up, baby.

  Bedtime

  Here is the rest of what happened at Roberta’s.

  Dr. Graham offered to report the villain to the police. At his words, Jasper cried out in fear.

  “It’s all right, boy. We won’t do it yet,” Father said.

  His next words astounded me. He told Dr. Graham, “Billy Grant is growing old. If Lilias and I take this lad in, and he works with Billy an hour or two a day and goes to school with the others the rest of the time, Jasper could take on Billy’s job when he gives up. Having Jasper around would make his sister happy as a lark. That little girl has been so good to Lilias.”

  “If it weren’t for her, your Lilias might have lost this baby,” Dr. Graham said.

  I peeked in again. David was crying. At least, I saw his shoulders shake. When I told Tom, he did not believe it.

  Father said he was going to write to the Barnardo people and see about keeping Marianna and Jasper. He even said he would adopt Jasper before he let him go back to that villain.

  Then I guess they saw Jasper was exhausted. They came away quietly. David had not said one word. The Johns are going to keep Jasper at their place until Father hears from the Barnardo people.

  Tom and I waited until the carriage disappeared and then we came out. We were so full of what we had seen and heard that we hardly said a word to each other on our way home.

  Later in the afternoon, Father and Dr. Graham drove out to Mr. Stone’s farm without telling anyone they were going. Father told us later that it was rundown and filthy. Mr. Stone was there. There was also a dog skulking around who was nothing but bones.

  “I showed the fellow the written report of Jasper’s injuries, and warned him that if he ever came to our home looking for him, I would call the police and give them the report,” he said.

  Mr. Stone blustered and yelled at them and made threats, but he was one against two and he simmered down. They did not leave until he signed a paper agreeing never again to apply for one of the Home Children.

  “I had to be sure nobody else would ever suffer at his hands,” Father told Mother.

  “But what if the child is permanently injured?” Mother said in a shaking voice.

  Father said that children are blessedly resilient. “With careful nursing and good food,” he said, “Jasper will be a changed boy by the first of September.”

  I had not remembered school would start so soon. The thought of Mr. Grigson looking down his nose at Jasper pains my heart. He won’t be in our classroom because he is just eight, but Mr. Grigson is the principal and oversees all the children. Tom has passed his Entrance and will not be going with us any longer. Dear Diary, I will confess to you that I will miss him terribly.

  I told Father I wished they had saved the starving dog.

  “Have a heart, Victoria,” Father said. “I cannot right all the wrongs in the world. If it is any comfort, I saw the dog and he will not live long, I fancy. He’s nothing but bones.”

  It was my turn to cry myself to sleep. Snortle tried to comfort me, licking my cheek with his soft tongue. But it made the grief harder to bear. Finally he pushed himself up close against me and went to sleep, snortling gently. He has been cosseted since he was born, while that other dog … I can’t write any more.

  Saturday, August 7

  The baby has still not been born. The pains have not started up again. I asked Marianna why and she said it just happens sometimes.

  “They’ll start up again, don’t fret yourself,” she said.

  We had bread and butter and tea. Marianna made Father eat more but didn’t bother me with food. They seem worried. I feel frantic. I had no idea it could take so long.

  Sunday, August 8

  Nothing happened today. It feels as though we are all walking around holding our breath.

  Monday morning, August 9

  Her pains came back about ten o’clock last night. I stayed awake all night. I never did that before. Maybe my eyes closed for a few minutes now and again, but I heard our grandfather clock chime every hour.

  Mother is moaning. I feel I cannot bear it. But you don’t have a choice. I tried to talk to the doctor, but he just said, “Don’t worry, child,” as though I were five years old and had no notion what was happening. Of course, I wouldn’t know if it weren’t for Marianna explaining it all. I was shocked when she did, but I’m glad now. So many girls are told lies about babies coming.

  I am writing any old thing to keep from crying. But I’m starting to cry anyway. I can’t see to write and the ink is getting blurry with tears.

  Oh, baby, do hurry up.

  Afternoon

  Mrs. Johns came around noon and everything was much better. The doctor listens to her. She seems to know just what to do.

  “Don’t look so woebegone, Victoria,” she said, smiling at me and smoothing my hair. “I’ve had four and they are all alive and kicking. We’ll get this little one safely into the world before long. If she or he was not determined to come wrong way around, it would all be over by this time.”

  I felt shy but I asked how they usually came.

  “Head first,” she said. “Diving into the world. But this one is arriving the other way up and giving us a bit of trouble.”

  It makes me feel queasy to think of it coming out.

  I can hear Mother crying out. I am never going to have a baby. Never, never, never.

  Monday … No, it is Tuesday, August 10, 2 A.M.

  I cannot believe it. I have a little sister! She is very small but she is alive. Marianna says she is NOT small at all for a new baby. Father weighed her even though it was the middle of the night. She weighs seven pounds. She is red and wrinkled and she has hands like a doll’s. Yet she can cling to my finger so tightly.

  I should be sleepy but I feel as though I will never need to sleep again. Father is excited too. When he came out of the bedroom and told us, he had a huge smile.

  “A sister for Victoria Josephine Cope,” he said. “Just as you ordered.”

  I told Marianna that my sister reminds me of a rosebud.

  “She’s pink but she’s no flower,” Sparrow said. “She’s a person and you just wait. You have no idea how much work a baby can be. Or how they smell.”

  I would have been angry, but I saw tears in her eyes and remembered she had a little sister too. I don’t think I understood how it must hurt her to think of Emily Rose, until I held our baby.

  Father took me in to see Mother before I was sent off to bed. She was very white with red patches in the middle of her cheeks. Her hair was loose and damp-looking. But her smile was her very own smile.

  “Isn’t she lovely, Victoria?” she whispered.

  I nodded. If I had tried to speak, I’d have burst into tears.

  It is the strangest thing, dear Diary, how you can be so happy and so sad at the very same moment. It is confusing. But it feels right.

  I am sleepy after all. Good night.

  11 A.M.

  When I woke up it was almost ten o’clock! I could not believe it. Father told me Mother was sleeping, so I ate a huge breakfast. I had not felt like eating for days.

  Then Mother wakened and I went to see her and my little sister again. Mother told me she
wants me to name her. We have talked over names but Mother would never choose. I believe she thought it was bad luck. She just said we should wait until we meet the new person and pick a name that belongs to him or her and nobody else. Now she is trusting ME to do the choosing.

  “Not Hepzibah,” she said, “but I know you will choose the perfect name.”

  Then Father said we must leave her to rest.

  I have a sister!

  Wednesday, August 11

  It was so astonishing to wake up and hear a baby crying. It took me a moment to figure out what I was hearing. She sounded a little like a lost kitten. But she doesn’t cry much. She SLEEPS!

  I tried to settle on a name for her, but it is not so easy. I kept thinking of Marianna’s little sister’s name. Emily Rose. It seemed to fit our baby, but I thought Marianna would not like us using it. Finally I told her.

  She stared at me wide-eyed. Her eyes really did go big and round. Then she gave me a fierce hug.

  “My mother would be honoured,” she said.

  Mother and Father think it is lovely. So Emily Rose is my little sister’s official name even though we are all calling her Rosie right now. Well, she is so tiny. Father can hold her in his cupped hands. Not that he does. We have to keep her warm and handle her as though she is made of eggshell.

  Father smiled when I told him the name. “I was terrified you’d want to name her Jubilee,” he said.

  I’m glad she did not wait any longer to be born or she might have been a Wednesday’s child. They are “full of woe.” Tuesday’s child is “full of grace.” You can’t see it yet, but she will grow graceful in time.