“You’re to come to the house tomorrow. There’ll be no work in the morning. The assessor for you orphans will be coming. You mind you tell him everything is good. You hear?”
“Yes, sir.” Daniel’s spirits lifted. He wondered if there was chance of news of Molly or Tom. He doubted he’d get time alone to tell this man what life was really like and truth be told, if he did then he doubted the man would believe him. He’d do anything to avoid another beating and if that meant saying life here was good then he’d do it.
Daniel was overawed by the house when he entered the following morning. Despite his year on the farm this was the first time he’d been allowed inside. He sat in the kitchen waiting for the assessor to arrive, but Mrs Hawksworth hardly spoke and he could see the fear in her eyes. The bath had been filled for him so he could scrub himself clean and there were laundered clothes to put on afterwards. It was his first bath since the night before he’d been taken on the train, and that was the previous harvest time. Washing from a pail was the best he could hope for on other days.
He was told he had to be in the kitchen so the man would think he lived in the house. Was it really so easy to fool someone as that? Would the man not ask questions of the Hawksworths that might reveal the truth? But Daniel knew he needed to play along.
When he was taken through to the drawing room, he was amazed at the luxury around him. He gasped at the carpets on the floor and wondered if he should have left his boots in the kitchen. Mr Hawksworth was already there when Daniel was shown in by Mrs Hawksworth and had clearly been talking to the assessor for a while.
Daniel stood quietly at the point indicated in front of the assessor, with his hands awkwardly holding his cap. Even with the cap to hold onto, they were shaking slightly, so he tried to hold the left firmly with the right to still its movement. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. He simply stood quietly and waited.
The assessor was seated at the table, writing. He looked up. “Flynn, although I seem to have you here as Reilly?”
“Yes, sir. I was with my brother and sister, sir, and their name is Reilly.”
The man scribbled a note and did not look at Daniel.
Daniel’s mouth felt dry and he wished he had a glass of water to sip, but dared not ask. He longed to ask about the others, but feared the response from Mr Hawksworth if he spoke.
Eventually the man peered up at Daniel. “How is your schooling going, boy?”
Daniel thought as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to lie, but he knew he must say what was expected of him. “I like learning, sir.”
“Can you read and write?”
“I read better than I write, sir.” Daniel kept his answers short.
The man nodded and made a note on his paper. “And the farm work, how do you like that?”
“I like being in the fresh air, sir.”
“Do you work hard?” He looked across at Mr Hawksworth as he asked.
At last, a question he felt as though he could answer honestly, though it was true he liked the outdoors. “I believe so, sir.” Feeling emboldened and certain now it could do no harm, Daniel asked, “Please, sir, do you know if my brother and sister are well?”
The man looked at him and then back to his notes. He flicked through some papers and pulled out another sheet. Daniel’s heart missed a beat as he watched.
“Your sister wrote to us asking after you. She is now in Pierceton. I believe she is happy.”
Daniel broke into a broad smile to hear that Molly was well. In his head he repeated the name of the place, Pierceton, for fear of forgetting it. “And Tom, sir?”
“I’m afraid I have no details of where he is.”
“We left him in Dowagiac, sir.” Again, he’d been careful to remember the place name, in hopes of one day finding him.
Mr Hawksworth coughed and looked meaningfully at the assessor. He smiled at Daniel and said, “I’m sorry, Flynn. I know no more.”
Then he began to put his papers together and Mrs Hawksworth, who was standing in the background, stepped forward to lead Daniel back to the kitchen, where he waited until the man had gone before being sent back out to the bunkhouse.
There were no niceties as he left the house, but as he walked back he felt happier than he had in a long time. Molly was safe. No longer in New York, but safe nonetheless. He wanted to sing and sit on his own in the sunshine for a while, basking in thoughts of Molly, but he hadn’t covered half the distance when Jed came up to him with an empty basket to make a start on harvesting some corn. No matter, he could sing as he worked. It would take more than that to dampen his mood. He knew nothing of where Pierceton was; it might be further away than New York for all he knew, but maybe Mrs Hawksworth would know when he got a chance to ask.
Under his breath he repeated the place name over and over, etching it too deep to lose with forgetfulness.
He worked cheerfully through the afternoon and long into the evening. He was lighthearted and thought that nothing could change how he felt. However, when he returned to the bunkhouse, there on his bunk in a thousand pieces lay Moby-Dick, his one and only possession and source of all possible learning. It was too much for Daniel and he sat with his head in his hands while the tears flowed.
Jed and Rick were nowhere about and he knew there would be no point in challenging them if they were. He wondered why they’d picked today of all days, and then supposed Mr Hawksworth must have had a hand in it. Either way, there was nothing he could do.
It was not until the harvest was done and the fields were bare that he next saw Mrs Hawksworth. Once again, the farm was quiet and the menfolk were away for the evening. He was sitting in the bunkhouse in all but darkness when he heard a voice calling gently to him.
“Daniel? Are you there, Daniel?”
His first thought was that it was Ma calling from another place, but then he saw the lamp in the doorway casting a little light into the room. “Yes, ma’am.” He jumped down from his bunk, landing softly on the straw-covered floor.
“I’ve brought you these.” Mrs Hawksworth was carrying a tray with the usual pancakes and syrup, but in addition to those welcome offerings, on the side of the tray sat a small parcel wrapped in brown paper.
Daniel looked up at Mrs Hawksworth in question.
“Go on, Daniel. It’s for you.”
His hands were trembling as he took it from the tray and began to unwrap the paper. He ran his hand over the leather binding of a brand new book and looked up at Mrs Hawksworth, his mouth open. Then he looked down and ran his finger over Holy Bible. He went to speak, but could find no words.
“I couldn’t get Moby-Dick, I’m sorry.”
“But it’s beautiful. You can’t… I mean… I can’t accept it. What if the master finds out?”
“Find somewhere to hide it, Daniel, somewhere safe. Only take it out when there’s no one around. The pastor of the church is the only one knows I’ve got it and he won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.” It seemed inadequate. He now knew that she’d known what happened to his copy of Moby-Dick, which meant Hawksworth must have been involved. He wanted to rush and wrap his arms around her. He wanted to feel her soothe his brow as Ma had done when he was small. He could do none of that, so he said it again quietly as he looked into her fine face. “Thank you.”
Then Mrs Hawksworth laid down the tray and, leaving the lamp with Daniel, went back to the house. He knew by now he was to leave the light and tray in their usual place in plenty of time for her to take it before the drunken revellers returned.
In his haste to start reading the book he almost entirely forgot about the pancakes, but eventually, confused by some of the old language in Genesis, he laid the book aside and ate the pancakes cold.
The seasons continued for Daniel. Jed and Rick stayed at the farm while other hands arrived and left. Daniel preferred when there were more of them in the bunkhouse as the trouble he faced was less, although the times he could remove his Bible from below the loose fl
oorboard were fewer as well. He worked his way through much of the Old Testament, becoming used to the ancient language after a while, but being careful lest he fall into the trap of using it when he spoke. He was not sure what he thought of this avenging God. He sounded so different to the God that Mammy had talked about. There were lines which stayed with him, such as ‘an eye for an eye’, and he often pondered on how that fitted with the way he was treated by Mr Hawksworth. Would Mammy still have said it was wrong to respond if she’d known what was happening to him? He was almost grown now, and strong with the work. He wondered what he could do with that strength if he put a mind to it.
It was his sixth harvest on the farm before there was any sign of his loneliness abating. The air was balmy with late summer warmth and the corn was standing tall and all but ripe in the fields when an older man came into the bunkhouse, a heavy canvas bag over his shoulder and a flea-bitten hound at his heels. Daniel was only just back from his labours and was washing up in the bucket by the door, ready to eat. The dog stopped to sniff, then wagged his tail furiously and pawed at Daniel’s leg.
“Reckon he likes you,” the man said, smiling a broad and partially toothless grin. “His name’s Duke.”
Daniel’s only real experience of dogs had been those roaming loose on the streets of New York and he’d never got too close to them, but Duke was insistent and pushed his nose into Daniel’s hand. Daniel was hesitant in patting the little fella’s head, but as the dog seemed to like it he moved to scratching him behind the ear. At that point Duke rolled onto his back in a moment of pure ecstasy and Daniel began to laugh.
Half an hour later the two of them were still together, with the man keeping a watchful eye from a distance.
After they’d eaten, with Daniel happily sharing some of his food with Duke, he wove some of the loose straw together into a ball and threw it for the dog to chase after. Duke was clearly partial to a game of fetch and very soon was bringing the ball of straw back for another throw. Eventually, Daniel flopped down on his bunk, exhausted but happy.
“It looks like you could use a friend,” the man said as he came over to stand near Daniel.
“I certainly could, sir.”
“Call me Benjamin, or better still Ben. I’m nobody’s ‘sir’ these days.”
“Well, Mister Ben, sir, it’s been a mighty lonely place for a boy growing up, though I’ve got nothing to compare it to. Not for a long time anyways. I had a family once…” Daniel thought wistfully of those he’d lost. His memory was dimmed with time and he struggled to recall their faces. When he thought of them, though, it was always with warmth and a deep longing that one day he’d see them again.
“I knows a bit about loneliness and it ain’t a pretty place to be. I had me a wife and child a long time ago… but that was another life and another place. Now it’s just me and Duke. Some days we’s happy as we is, and others…”
They sat quietly for a while, each in their separate thoughts, and then Daniel found himself telling this man the story of how he came to be on the farm in the first place and how with no pay and nowhere to go, he supposed he’d be there for a long time to come. He’d never told a soul his story, not even Mrs Hawksworth. He reckoned she knew some of it, but he never said a word.
“No pay, you say?”
Daniel nodded.
“That ain’t right.”
“I get my board and lodging.” Daniel was surprised at his own automatic response to defend Mr Hawksworth. He shrugged and looked down.
“We gets our board and lodging and some wages, though they be slim pickings. But it’s better than nothing, and I’ve got a little put by for my old age.”
Daniel looked at Mister Benjamin in amazement. To him the man already looked old.
“It’s not these parts as is supposed to have slavery.” Benjamin snorted. “We’s supposed to be the free men here, though I ain’t sure what freedom means to the likes of you and me.”
For the time that Ben stayed working on the farm, Duke was never far from Daniel’s heels. In the evenings the two of them and the dog would sit in companionable silence or sometimes talk of better days. For Daniel, that time was a doubly happy one, as with Ben around, Jed and Rick paid little heed to him and on the Saturdays Jed and Rick went into town Ben shared the secret of Daniel’s reading. Though, with Ben there, Mrs Hawksworth didn’t come down to help his learning.
When spring came and Ben’s time at the farm was done, it was a hard parting.
“Can I come with you?” Daniel asked.
Ben shook his head. “You knows Hawksworth wouldn’t allow it, but I reckon Duke should stay here to keep you company.”
“Oh, but he’s your dog. You can’t do that.”
Duke snuffled close to Daniel.
“He can share your food as well as he’s shared mine. I think he’s made his choice, don’t you? Besides, it will give me a reason to come back next harvest. While he carries on catching rats around the place he should be let alone by the others. Keep him safe.”
This last comment could have been addressed either to the dog or to himself, Daniel wasn’t altogether sure which, but as Benjamin lumbered over to the truck with his heavy bag, dog and boy stayed close to each other, bringing what comfort they could and looking forward to the passing of the months until Ben might be back with them.
Once Ben had gone, the farm returned to much the way it had been before. However, after Duke bit Rick, leaving a full set of teeth marks firmly imprinted in his work pants, an uneasy truce was established. Daniel was mindful to keep Duke in his sights at all times, lest Jed and Rick got ideas about parting them for good.
Chapter 12
“Sir, Jude McCaulay’s brother says he’s going to fight for the Union. He’s answering Mr Lincoln’s call. Will you have to fight?” William really wanted to ask if he would have to go himself, but he wasn’t sure where to start. There was a part of him deep down that wanted to fight, not so much because he’d thought about the cause, but a simple instinctive feeling. Maybe it harked back to his street days, but he thought it was more than that. It was pride in his new life and wanting nothing to stand in its way. William had his future mapped out. He was going to be successful and if he had to fight to protect that opportunity, then fight he would.
“No, son. I’m too old for fighting now. It’s younger men they want. Besides, I can serve the Union through the law and I sure am pleased to do that.”
“Jude says he may go if they’re still fighting when he’s older…” Then tentatively he added, “He asked if I’d go too.”
Pa paused a long moment before replying and then more quietly said, “I do hope you won’t, son. Soldiering is a dangerous business. It’s for the like of people who don’t think they’ve anything much else to do with their lives. I’m counting on you to take over the firm when you’re old enough and as for Ma, well, let’s just say it would send her to an early grave if anything happened to you.”
William nodded. “I know, sir.”
“Besides, studying is what you’re good at and I see no reason why you shouldn’t have the very best education before taking up a career.”
“Why are they fighting, sir?”
“That’s a difficult one. Mr Lincoln says it’s because they don’t respect the right of man to be free. As long as there’s slavery they cannot claim the principles that the Union holds dear.”
There had been freed slaves around Five Points, but they were just other people struggling to survive, not a symbol of a way of life. “But is it ever right to give up everything you have for the rights of another man?”
“I think it probably is, William, but that’s something you’ll have to work out for yourself. Some things in life are more important than self, but that’s not something you can learn from someone telling you. You might learn it from the way they live their life and seeing it done, but you’ll never learn it from simply being told. Ma and I love you as our own child and would give everything for you. One day you�
�ll have children of your own and you’ll know what that feels like.” Pa paused and took a deep suck at his pipe. “Why don’t we go into town? There’s something I’d like to show you.”
“Yes, sir.” William furrowed his brow as he thought over what Pa had already said and wondered if anyone would ever be that dear to him.
As they walked along the streets of Dowagiac, Pa stopped first before one building and then another. Each time he said to William, “See this, remember it. One day it will be yours.” He gave no further explanation and William asked no questions until they arrived outside the lawyer’s office and Pa led William through to the back. “Sit yourself down, William.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Pa went to the cabinet and drew out a sheaf of papers. He proceeded to fold out a plan of the town on the table top. “It’s not so very long ago that this town was founded. My daddy, he was one of the first to settle in this area and when he did he laid claim to a lot of land. Since then, we’ve sold some plots and bought others and this is what we own now.” He showed William the shaded areas on the map, which represented a large section of the town. “I’m mighty happy to have a fine son that I can pass it all on to one day. In the meantime, there’s enough there to pay for whatever we need, including you going to university, if you want to, and to pay your way out of having to fight if the need arises.”
There was a long pause as William took in what Pa had said. Not just the future amount, but the prospect of university and knowing he was unlikely to have to fight unless he chose to. This was everything he’d dreamed of and yet somehow it felt hollow. Oh, he wanted to be a ‘somebody’ and if being William Dixon was the way to that, then that was exactly who he’d be, but he wasn’t sure that it meant anything to him. He could act the part of the loving son, but then he could act the part of streetwise pickpocket. With the pain of his father going and his mother dying, the separation from his friends and family, he’d locked a big part of himself away for safety. What was the point in getting close to anyone when all it ended in was hurt? It was better to rely on himself than open up to any other. Sure, one day he’d take himself a wife. He could see that, with the role he wanted in life, it was an expected part of it. He couldn’t imagine feeling about anyone as his new ma and pa seemed to feel about each other and, more strangely, about him too.
New York Orphan (Tales of Flynn and Reilly Book 1) Page 11