by Jody Hedlund
“We’d never do that!” Anna said vehemently from her spot in the apartment’s only kitchen chair, positioned in front of a barrel they used as a table. The flicker coming from the stubby candle at the center highlighted the fear in Anna’s eyes.
“They’d figure out a way to make you,” Mollie replied. “Accuse you of being accomplices to the murder and try to get you arrested. Or maybe threaten to hurt someone you care about if you don’t do what they say.”
Sophie shivered and moved away from the window, hugging her arms across her chest. The air inside was laden with the stench of scorched fish and cabbage. The coming day promised to be as humid and stale as summer, but a chill wound its way to Sophie’s heart and turned her blood cold.
What if the Roach Guards decided to hurt Olivia and Nicholas in order to make her testify against Danny and Mugs? Sophie had already checked on the two children when she’d arrived at the apartment. They’d been curled together and sleeping on the pallet on the floor right where she’d left them hours ago when she tucked them in and told them a story.
The realization that she’d put them in danger once again spurred her into action. “I’m leaving,” she said as she made her way across the front room, trying not to trip over the debris that littered the floor—discarded clothing, shoes, dishes, and toys. One of the other women who lived with Mollie was already asleep on the sagging sofa, having stumbled in drunk and fallen there fully dressed over an hour ago. She hadn’t moved since.
“Where will you go?” Anna asked.
Sophie shrugged. “I’ll find someplace. I always have.”
“But where?”
Sophie spotted her bag underneath the sofa and dropped to her knees to retrieve it. “Maybe this time I’ll head south to Philadelphia.” She’d exhausted her welcome at the asylums in Boston and New York City. Maybe she could pick the pockets of the Philadelphia charities now.
“You know you won’t be able to stay in the asylums with Olivia and Nicholas anymore,” Anna whispered. “You’re a woman now and it shows.”
“I’ll find work there.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“That’s fine with me.” Sophie dragged the bag out, the contents inside bulging. She couldn’t remember emptying her bag over the past two years. She’d never been anyplace long enough to truly unpack. And besides, she felt safer if she was ready to go at a moment’s notice. Like now.
“Philadelphia’s too close,” Mollie said. “You need to go to a city where the Roach Guards wouldn’t think to look for you, someplace where two pretty young women with two infants wouldn’t stand out.”
“I don’t have the money to go farther away,” Sophie replied. Actually she didn’t have money to go anywhere. But she’d learned how to sneak onto steamers and stow away on the lower decks among the baggage and engines. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she could get away with the crime, yet it was just one of the many sins she’d committed since running away from her family. What did it matter if she added one more offense to the long list?
“Take a train west,” Mollie suggested. “I’ve heard there are plenty of jobs for women in places like Michigan, Illinois, or Indiana.”
A lump of bitterness pushed into Sophie’s throat. That was how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place, with her oldest sister, Elise, deciding to find one of those plentiful jobs for women in the West. They’d been happy at the Seventh Street Mission. They’d had a safe shelter, warm meals, and had been together.
Yes, Elise had lost her job as a seamstress when so many businesses had closed. Even so, Miss Pendleton, the owner of the mission, wouldn’t have cast them out onto the street. Surely if Elise had asked, Miss Pendleton would have let them stay. After all, even when Elise left for the West, Miss Pendleton had allowed her and Marianne to remain at the mission, even when the mission was forced to close its doors to everyone else.
But Elise had been too proud. She’d cared more about making a new life than staying together. She’d abandoned them. Even though she’d promised she would save her earnings and send for them, she hadn’t.
“What do you say, Sophie?” Anna asked. “Do you want to go west?”
“It’s too hard to hide on a train.” Sophie had only tried hiding in a baggage car once with Olivia and Nicholas and had almost been caught by a conductor before she’d slipped away and decided to stick with steamers. “And tickets for Olivia, Nicolas, and me would cost more than I could earn in a year.”
The three women were silent for a moment. At the early hour of the morning, the tenement was eerily quiet. The noises of the nightlife had faded, and the normal busy chaos of the day hadn’t yet started.
“Maybe you don’t have to hide on the train or pay for the tickets,” Mollie said, finally pushing away from the door. “Maybe there’s another way.”
“What way?” Anna and Sophie asked at the same time, although Sophie’s question contained more derision than Anna’s.
“The Children’s Aid Society visitors were in the neighborhood yesterday looking for orphans. They said there’s a group leaving for Illinois in two days.”
Sophie shook her head adamantly. She and Marianne had run away from the Seventh Street Mission when Marianne had overheard Miss Pendleton talking about separating them and giving Olivia and Nicholas into the care of the Children’s Aid Society. They’d fled to the Weisses’ one-room basement tenement, mostly because Marianne had been in love with Reinhold Weiss and had pretended to be pregnant with his child, so that Mrs. Weiss and Tante Brunhilde would take them in. From the start, Tante Brunhilde had resented their presence and made their lives miserable, especially because Reinhold had gone west for work too and wasn’t able to protect them.
Then that awful day had happened. Sophie had come home from school and discovered Tante Brunhilde had taken Olivia and Nicholas to the train depot to join a group of Children’s Aid Society orphans bound for the West.
Sophie had panicked and decided that she’d go west with Olivia and Nicholas. After all, she’d been a burden to her sisters, first to Elise and then to Marianne. She figured they wouldn’t mind if she left. Then they wouldn’t have to worry about providing for her. They could go on with their lives, get jobs, and find husbands without her holding them back.
After making her decision, she hadn’t told Marianne and certainly hadn’t explained to Mrs. Weiss or Tante Brunhilde where she was going or why. She’d simply left.
When she’d arrived at the train depot and had asked about the train that left earlier in the day with the orphans, she was surprised to learn it had been delayed a day due to malfunctions with the train’s engine and that the orphans had been taken back to the Children’s Aid Society building for the night.
Sophie waited until darkness had settled and everyone was asleep before breaking into the headquarters and finding Olivia and Nicholas. She’d snuck them out and the next day hid on a steamer, which took them to Boston.
Now she couldn’t imagine going back to the Children’s Aid Society. Even if no one remembered Olivia and Nicholas from two years ago, she still harbored the desperation and fear from almost losing them.
“No. Absolutely not,” Sophie said. “I don’t want anything to do with the Children’s Aid Society. And I won’t send Olivia and Nicholas away—”
“You and Anna would go with,” Mollie interrupted. “Join the group and get a free ride to the West. When you get to Chicago, you can get off and do whatever you want. You’ll be able to disappear there, and no one will be able to track you down.”
The rest of Sophie’s words of protest stalled. Mollie’s plan was so perfect and so simple it just might work.
Some of the exhaustion in Mollie’s face dissipated with her growing excitement. “In fact, being a part of the large group of children would be the ideal place to hide from the Roach Guards. They wouldn’t think to look for you among the orphans.”
“But aren’t Sophie and me too old to be a part of that group?” Anna
asked. “Most of the kids are little, aren’t they?”
“No, actually the visitor yesterday said they take children as old as sixteen, that the older ones are in high demand among families because of their ability to work.”
“We can pass for sixteen, can’t we?” Anna asked.
“Maybe,” Mollie said, studying her sister through the growing light of dawn. “It’s worth a try, and better than sticking around here and ending up like me.”
Even if Mollie came home exhausted every morning, the young woman had been full of praise regarding her job as a prostitute, lauding her independence and her freedom from the restrictions of society. She left for work in cheerful spirits, making her job sound as glamorous as her fancy dresses. She’d even boasted about her wages exceeding those of seamstresses and factory workers.
Had that all simply been playacting, an attempt at justifying her choice? A thin veil of bravado over the difficult realities of prostitution?
“I thought you liked your job. But you don’t really?” Anna finally voiced the question in Sophie’s mind.
Mollie glanced at the door that led to the closet-like room where the children slept, including her one-year-old daughter, Jo. “It’s all I have now, the only way I can take care of Jo. I have to make the best of the situation and can’t let it get to me like some of my friends have.”
“I’m sorry, Mol.” Anna rose from her chair, crossed to her sister, and wrapped her in a hug. “I didn’t know you felt this way. You’re always so happy . . .”
Sophie couldn’t tear her eyes from the sisters. Though they were only a couple of years apart in age, Mollie’s exhaustion made her look at least ten years older than Anna. As with the other times Sophie had watched them interact, her chest expanded with an ache, an ache she’d tried to ignore and even dislodge altogether. But now the pain came rushing back, along with the need for her sisters. She missed them even though she didn’t want to, and she longed to be wrapped into their embraces as she’d been many times in the past.
Her eyes misted. What were Elise and Marianne doing now? Where were they? Had Marianne finally joined Elise out west? Were they both safe? And happy?
Sophie blinked hard, forcing her tears away. Of course they were happy without her. She’d been difficult those last months together, stubborn and willful and angry. She hadn’t been a supportive sister like Anna, but had instead made Elise’s and Marianne’s job of looking after her difficult.
She knew they’d been worried when she disappeared. They’d probably made a good effort at searching for her. But once they realized she was gone, surely they concluded they were better off without her.
There had been a few times during her worst moments of hunger and cold when she’d considered trying to track them down, had even thought about returning to the Seventh Street Mission and asking Miss Pendleton to help her. But Sophie had always held back.
At first her hesitation had been out of fear that someone would attempt to separate her from Olivia and Nicholas again. But now that she was stronger and wouldn’t let that happen, she didn’t want to see her sisters because she was embarrassed, and even a little afraid, of what they would think of her and the mess she’d made of her life.
No, she was better off on her own without them. She’d find a way to make things work. She’d become resourceful, and she could do whatever she set her mind to.
“Sophie?” came a soft sleepy voice from the bedroom doorway. Olivia stood in her nightgown, her long brown hair having come loose from her braid as it was prone to do since it was thin and silky. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Liebchen.” Sophie didn’t want to worry Olivia about the danger they were in.
Olivia’s sights were fixed on the bag in front of Sophie. “Then why are we leaving?”
Sophie’s mind raced to find a plausible excuse for having to move one more time, especially because lately Olivia had started crying whenever Sophie pulled out their bag. Sophie glanced at Anna for help. What should they tell the children?
Anna released Mollie and held out a hand toward Olivia. “We decided it’s time for an adventure. Wouldn’t you like that?”
“I don’t want any more adventures.” Olivia’s voice wobbled. “I’m tired of adventures.”
Sophie agreed with the girl. She was tired of moving and traveling too. She’d almost found a permanent solution by marrying Danny. He would have given her and the children a home so that they could finally stop running.
But by now the policemen had likely hauled Danny and Mugs to the Tombs, where they’d be put on trial and perhaps executed for the murders.
Her hope of a new life had gone up in flames just as swiftly as the wood-framed building had earlier that night.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Olivia said. “I want to stay here. Forever.”
As if sensing the girl’s escalating emotions, Mollie crossed to Olivia and brushed her hair back from her face, attempting to intervene before Olivia began to cry in earnest and wake the other children. “You’ll get to ride on a train this time. Think of the fun that will be.”
“I don’t want to ride a train.” Olivia’s voice rose.
“Train?” another small voice asked behind Olivia. Nicholas moved past his sister and Mollie, looking for Sophie. At the sight of her kneeling on the floor in front of their bag, he raced to her, flinging himself into her arms.
Sophie easily caught and hugged him to her chest. At three, he was light and small for his age. As his thin arms wound around her neck, she bent her nose into his tousled brown hair and breathed in the soapy scent that lingered from the bath she’d given him last night in the metal sink on the second floor landing, the only spigot in the building that worked. Even with the handle turned all the way, it only gave a trickle, but it was better than nothing.
She’d been more of a mother to him than sister—the only mother figure he’d ever known since his real mother had abandoned him the first year of his life. Sophie had been taking care of him and Olivia ever since.
His warm body wiggled out of her embrace. He’d apparently reassured himself of her love and was finished with the hug. “I wanna ride a train,” he said earnestly, his eyes wide and his expression serious. “I like trains.”
“I know you do, Liebchen.” Sophie tweaked his nose. “And because you like them so much, I decided we finally get to ride on one.”
He gave her one of his beautiful baby smiles, one that never failed to melt her heart and remind her that everything she’d ever done, good or bad, was worth it.
“Why can’t we stay here?” Olivia asked, her eyes brimming with tears. “Aunt Mollie is nice to us and so is Anna.”
“Anna is coming with,” Sophie said.
“That’s right,” Anna added. “I’ve always wanted to ride a train, haven’t you?”
Olivia shook her head.
Nicholas bounced like the little ball on his bilbo catcher. The ball-and-cup game was his only toy, one Sophie had discovered discarded among the baggage during one of their steamer voyages. “Please, Olivia. I wanna ride the train. You’ll like it too.”
The little girl swiped at the tears that had begun to escape. Sophie knew that for Nicholas’s sake, Olivia would try to control herself. She’d mothered her brother too and would never do anything to disappoint or hurt Nicholas.
At a slamming reverberation of a door somewhere in the tenement, Mollie started and glanced to the entrance of their apartment, as if the Roach Guards might burst through at any moment. Sophie realized suddenly that they’d put Mollie in danger with their presence. The Roach Guards might harass her, perhaps even hurt and threaten her to divulge information about Sophie and Anna.
“You need to go,” Mollie said, worry lines creasing her forehead. “Before daylight.”
Sophie nodded and opened the bag. “Olivia and Nicholas, I want you to get dressed while I pack. We’ll leave in five minutes.”
Nicholas scampered to obey. Olivia hesitated. Her gaze met So
phie’s and was filled with accusation.
Sophie focused on the bag. She would talk with Olivia later and try to explain why they had to move again. But for now they had no time to waste. They had to make use of the remaining darkness before dawn to reach the Children’s Aid Society building.
She shoved aside the items within the bag, and her fingers made contact with heavy brass. It was her candle holder, the one Mutti had given her on her deathbed, the only possession she had to connect her to the life she’d once had. She traced the kneeling angel that was holding up a lampstand devoid of its candle. She didn’t have to see it to know it was tarnished and had lost its polished shine.
“Remember not to lose your way in the darkness,” Mutti had whispered through her last breaths. “No matter how lost you might feel at times, always keep His light burning inside you.”
Sophie shoved aside the gift along with Mutti’s words. Neither mattered anymore. She was as tarnished as the candle holder and definitely had no light left inside her.
She wasn’t sure why she’d hung on to the heirloom. She’d kept it in her bag, refusing to bring it out in any of their temporary homes. Several times she’d considered selling it and using the money for shoes or coats for Olivia and Nicholas. But even in their most desperate predicaments, she’d kept the memento. Maybe because she knew it was her last link to her family. And perhaps her last link to God.
Whatever the case, it had come with her this far and would go with her as she ran away again.
Chapter 3
MAYFIELD, ILLINOIS
SEPTEMBER 1859
The blisters on Reinhold Weiss’s fingers had burst and started to bleed, turning the palms of his leather work gloves damp and brown. The muscles in his shoulders and arms seared from the hours of swinging the scythe since sunup, six hours ago.
“Water break, Reinhold,” Jakob called from near the edge of the alfalfa field. He held up a battered tin pail, no doubt full of cold, freshly drawn well water.
Reinhold nodded but didn’t waver in the steady swish swish swish of the scythe. He would finish the section he was on before giving himself the luxury of quenching his thirst. He had to. There was too much to be done and not enough time to complete it all.