“No.” Claire glanced at her brothers. “When did this happen?”
“Er … we don’t know exactly when,” Justin said. “And we’re not really sure it was her. I mean …”
“If you’re not sure, then don’t blame her.” Claire’s voice rose and she shook her finger at the boys. “Just because she’s had to grow up without real parents, in a horrible place, does not mean she’s stolen that chain. You’re assuming it was she who did it.”
“It’s a valid conclusion,” Father stated emphatically. “She’s a thief, she’s been in our store several times, and the chain is missing. I don’t need any more proof than that.”
“Oh, Father,” Charlie said nervously. “She’s been in the store only once.”
“You admit you’re not always at the front of the store,” Father said accusingly.
“See, Father? You are assuming it was poor little Poppy.” Claire’s voice shook as she stood up and carried her plate to the sink.
“Face reality, my child. Next thing you’ll be inviting Poppy to live with us. She’d steal everything we have right from under our noses.”
“I don’t believe she stole that chain,” Claire insisted.
“She was born and bred to be a thief,” Father said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do not trust her. I do not want her in this house again. That’s an order. Do you all understand?”
“Yes, Father,” Claire said wearily as the others murmured their compliance. She walked to the open door and stood there, looking out into the darkness.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT,
OCTOBER 4, 1871
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- False Accusations -
Poppy spent the rest of the day down by the ships, watching the powerful waves that swept up against the shore. It was pleasant down here on the shoreline of Lake Michigan, where the smell of smoke was blown away by the strong breeze. All day the fire engines rushed around the city and the ringing of their bells carried over the wind. Spirals of smoke from brush fires looked like witches’ fingers poking the sky.
The Highland steamer was tied with huge ropes up to a wharf near Poppy. It was such a big boat that it hardly moved against the wind and surf.
If I could hide away on that ship, I would. Then I wouldn’t have to have that stinkin’ key made for Ma. But if I don’t show up with the key, they’ll go after Ticktock.
Poppy could only imagine how sad Justin would be. He loved that little goat and was so excited when he’d brought her to the store to show Poppy. He’d even built that neat goat barn for her. It hurt Poppy to think how Justin might feel. She’d feel the same way, because she loved Ticktock, too.
I guess that’s what happens when you love someone, she reflected. You’d do anything to protect them. And then you always get hurt. I can’t think of anyone who’d protect me or even care if something bad happened. Maybe Justin would … Claire would, I think.
What shall I do? If I tell Claire what’s happened and how Mr. Plant and Ma are planning to rob the store, maybe she’d know what to do. But if the police came and caught Ma or Mr. Plant’s safecrackers, everyone back at the Willow would know I told … and they’d come after me.
Poppy stood up and headed away from the waterfront. She’d go see Claire and ask her what she’d do if someone she loved was in danger.
The sun was setting. By the time she’d get to Justin’s house, it would be dark. She’d sneak into the goat house. Claire would surely suspect she was there and go out to see her. Hadn’t she said she had an idea for a place where Poppy could stay? Poppy walked faster. Up the streets and away from the water, the smell of smoke was strong. The wind blew circles of dried leaves around her feet.
She reached the Butterworths’ house and went directly to the goat’s paddock. She was about to open the gate when the kitchen door opened. She could see Charlie silhouetted against the light. “The cool air will feel good,” he said to someone inside.
Poppy could see the family seated around the large oak table. She longed to be with them. Yet Mr. Butterworth had made it clear she wasn’t welcome. But why? She had never stolen anything from them. Well, of course, she had made an impression of the key to the shop—but that was before she got to know the family. And no one knew she had done that.
I wonder what they’re talking about. Maybe Mr. Butterworth has changed his mind about me.
She slipped closer to the house, crouched behind a bush, and strained to hear the voices inside. They were talking about Pastor Belmont and the church. It was hard to hear over the wind. But then she heard Mr. Butterworth yell her name loudly.
“It’s that girl, Poppy!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t the boys tell you how she stole a valuable watch chain from the store?”
Poppy gasped. I never stole anything from the store! What are they talking about? Instinctively she felt like running in and defending herself, but she didn’t want them to know she was sneaking around, listening from the bushes. Perhaps she had heard wrong. She climbed under the rail and crept onto the porch—closer to the open door.
“Next thing you’ll be inviting Poppy to live with us!” Mr. Butterworth was saying. “She’d steal everything we have right from under our noses.”
Claire was speaking now, but it was hard to hear. “I … believe she stole … chain.”
Oh, no, you can’t believe it, Claire. I would never take anything from you or your family.
How could they say such things? The one time in Poppy’s life that she cared about doing the right thing … and they think she stole something. A lump gathered in her throat.
Mr. Butterworth was yelling again. “I do not want her in this house again. That’s an order. Do you all understand?”
There was some murmurs, but when she heard Claire say, “Yes, Father,” Poppy felt a stab in her heart.
She forgot about the sounds of her own footsteps as she ran off the porch, but she didn’t care if they knew she’d been listening.
“That’s what I get for believing I could be part of a real family!” she muttered, trying hard not to let the tears come. “I musta been crazy! Well, I’m going to give Ma the key so they won’t hurt Ticktock. Then I’m stowing away on the Highland. I never wants to see any of them Butterworths again. Never!”
WEDNESDAY NIGHT,
OCTOBER 4, 1871
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- Confessions -
“Did you hear footsteps on the porch?” Justin asked.
“Yes, it sounded like someone running,” Charlie replied, getting up.
Claire went onto the porch. “There’s someone … a small shadow … Oh, it looks like Poppy! She’s running down the driveway to the street.” Claire gasped. “She must have heard our whole conversation. All the blame everyone was putting on her … oh, the poor child.”
Justin felt as though his heart had hit the floor. Poppy knew she was being blamed for something she didn’t do. He had only hoped what happened to the gold chain would just blow over and Father would forget about it. He really didn’t want to blame Poppy—he just … He looked at Charlie, who was sending messages with his eyes and shaking his head.
It was time to tell Father what had really happened. “Father … ,” Justin began.
But Father was still talking. “It’s just as well Poppy knows we don’t want thieves around here,” he was saying. “We trusted her …”
“No, you didn’t, Father,” Claire admonished. “You never welcomed her or gave her a chance.”
“That’s right. I’m not welcoming a little guttersnipe from Conley’s Patch into our house or into our jewelry shop. You placed temptation in front of her, Claire.”
“I do not believe she stole anything from us,” Claire protested. “Why, she had a chance to steal silverware or other things when she was here, but nothing is missing. I think she was just beginning to know what love and affection are.… She never—”
“Love and affection?” Father exclaimed. “She stole from the store. That’s how sh
e shows her love and affection.”
“Your father is right, dear,” Mother said. “If she stole from us—after the kindness you’ve shown her—then I’d just let her go.”
“Father, I need to tell you something,” Justin said.
“Not now, Justin.” Father cut himself a piece of pie for dessert. “In fact, I don’t want that girl’s name ever mentioned in this house again.”
Justin felt as if something were about to explode inside of him. “Poppy never stole the chain!” he blurted out. “I marked the price wrong and I didn’t know how to tell you. It was all my fault. Poppy had nothing to do with it.”
Silence. No one spoke, but everyone turned and stared at Justin.
“Did you hear me? I said it was my fault.” Justin buried his face in his hands. “I was going to tell you, but I was scared. I was afraid you’d think I was too stupid to ever work in the store—or cut a gemstone—or … ever be trusted.” He could feel the wetness from the tears on his cheeks.
Another loud silence. Justin peeked out from between his hands. Father was frozen with a fork halfway to his mouth. Mother’s face looked as if she had been struck.
Finally Claire spoke up, her voice shaking. “I just knew Poppy wouldn’t betray us.” She looked at her father accusingly. “She needed our love, not our distrust and suspicion.”
“It was only natural to blame her, with her background, her life at the Willow,” Father argued defensively. “But I would have never suspected Justin of lying or accusing an innocent person.”
“Nor would I.” Mother shook her head sadly.
“Honestly, I didn’t dream you’d blame Poppy. I was hoping it would all blow over and be forgotten,” Justin said.
“No one stole the watch chain,” Charlie said. “It was the only white-gold chain in the batch. The rest were silver, and Justin couldn’t tell the difference. He marked the tag as silver, not gold, and we sold it as silver.”
“Then you’re to blame, too,” Father said accusingly.
“I didn’t think to check it until the customer paid me,” Charlie admitted. “Then I went and looked at the inventory list and realized it was gold. The customer wouldn’t give it back or pay the difference.”
“And you’ve got to agree that it would be easy to mix up eight dollars and eighty dollars,” Justin interrupted. “Anyone could make that mistake.”
Mother shook her head. “I’m shocked at the two of you!”
“Yes, we’re disappointed in you both,” Father agreed. “Surprisingly, I’m more upset about your blaming Poppy than for selling the chain as silver. I feel bad that you couldn’t tell me the truth.”
“I was about to tell you.” Charlie’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. “I’m really sorry, but I promised Justin I’d give him the chance to explain first.”
“Father, I don’t like to say this to you,” Claire said, “but you are just as guilty. You had Poppy tried and convicted without even letting her explain—and just when she was learning to trust …” Claire pulled on the sweater that was draped over her chair. “I’m going out to find her.” She pointed her finger at Justin and Charlie. “And you two are going to bend over backward to make it up to her.”
“Where are you going at this hour?” Mother asked. “It’s dangerous out in Poppy’s neighborhood. You can’t go there alone.”
“These boys are coming with me.” By Claire’s firm lips and stature, Justin knew nothing would stop her from trying to make things right—if it wasn’t too late.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT,
OCTOBER 4, 1871
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- It Was All a Big Lie! -
Poppy once again found herself at the lakeside. She found a grassy spot near the shore where she curled up, her knees drawn to her chest, and pulled her sweater around her. The wind must have switched, because the smell of smoke was strong and the stars were dim.
Poppy decided she’d run away just as soon as she gave the wax impression of the key to Ma. She’d never come back to this stinking place, and she’d never trust anyone again. She’d take care of herself and … if she had to steal to eat, that’s what she’d do. But now it would be for herself, not for people like Ma and Mr. Plant, who used her to steal for them.
She thought of Justin and Claire. She’d get rid of any stupid idea that she could be part of a family. She pushed the Butterworths out of her mind—for good, she hoped, because it hurt to remember Claire, the new dress, the pretty rooms, and the candlelight on the silverware.
There was no way she could ever be different. How could she? She had no family, no chance to go to school and learn to read. There was no one who’d give a chance to someone like her.
She closed her eyes and wondered if Ticktock missed her. Ticktock seemed to love Poppy, and Ticktock didn’t care if she was a thief. The goat ran to greet her, the little bell around her neck jingling and her tail wagging, whenever Poppy visited.
Well, tomorrow Poppy would give the wax key impression to Ma. Then at least Ticktock would be safe.
Poppy looked up at the starlit sky and remembered the wishes she’d made. Wishes don’t come true! You’d have to be really stupid to believe that.
And what did Claire say about me that night when she gave me the dress? That I’m like one of those rocks—the geode—and that I have a sparkling crystal of goodness deep inside of me?
What good is it? I’m still Poppy the pickpocket, and everything she said is all a big lie.
Poppy’s eyes were heavy, and soon she fell asleep to the sound of the water lapping against the shore.
THURSDAY MORNING,
OCTOBER 5, 1871
CHAPTER THIRTY
- The Search Begins -
Justin groaned when the sun filtered through the curtains in his bedroom. It couldn’t be morning already. It seemed as if he’d just gone to bed. He’d been up late with his brother and sister, combing the streets for Poppy.
It was scary out at Conley’s Patch in the daylight, but in the dark it was terrifying. No wonder Father and Mother had put up such a fuss when Claire insisted she’d go look for Poppy right away.
They had searched streets and alleys as far as the Willow, where Poppy lived. They debated whether or not to go inside and ask about Poppy. But the place was noisy and rowdy with wild singing and yelling. “We can’t go in there. All kinds of peculiar people come out of their holes at night,” Charlie said softly. “And they stay out until dawn.”
“Then they go back into their holes,” Claire said.
It seemed as if Claire would never grow weary of searching for Poppy. “I’ve got to find her and tell her we know she didn’t steal from us.”
But when Justin finally said, “Poppy knows her way around here better than we do. We’ll never find her. And it’s not safe to speak with any of these roughs, so we can’t ask anyone around here,” even Claire agreed.
At that moment, somewhere inside the Willow, cheers erupted while dogs snarled and yelped as if in pain.
“They’ve got dog pits and gambling here,” Charlie said. “Let’s get out of this rotten place, quick!”
And so they left the area and returned home as fast as they could.
It took Justin a long time to get to sleep. All he could think of was Poppy and how he had let the blame fall on her. Why did I do this? Why didn’t I confess to my own mistake instead of making this a hundred times worse?
Now, he turned over and punched his pillow. At least he had a pillow. Poppy was probably sleeping on a sidewalk somewhere. He suspected she didn’t want to go back to the Willow.
She had once talked about running away on a ship. Justin decided he wouldn’t go to school today. Instead, he’d go down by the river docks and search for her.
Mother will never let me miss a day of school to search for Poppy, especially when we had a day off yesterday. So I’ll play hooky. That’s what I’ll do.
Justin dressed for school and headed to the kitchen, where Mother was reading the news
paper. He put a slice of bacon on his toast and gulped it down with fresh cider from a neighbor’s farm.
“How did you sleep, dear?” Mother asked. “You went to bed so late last night.”
“Didn’t sleep much. I’m too worried about Poppy.”
“Oh, that child is out of our lives, dear. You’ll never see her again. But this is a lesson that you’ll remember all your life.”
Justin put on his jacket. “I’m going to feed Ticktock now, Mother, and then I’ll go on to school.” He hated to lie, but he had to find Poppy.
Justin went to the goat barn, where Ticktock was waiting. “Hi, my little nanny,” Justin whispered as he brushed his pet with the wire brush. Ticktock leaned into the brush with her head and snuffled loudly. Then Justin put fresh water and food into the feeders and thought of Poppy again. Ticktock had love and care. Poppy had nothing. She slept in this goat barn, and it was better than any place she had ever called home.
He had to find her.
THURSDAY MORNING,
OCTOBER 5, 1871
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- Poppy’s Decision -
On Thursday morning, Poppy awoke to the sound of waves, boat whistles, and voices. The sky was light but clouded with smoke. She had only today and tomorrow to give Ma and Mr. Plant the wax impression of the key. Then she’d sneak on board one of the ships and sail away to somewhere else.
Yes, that’s what she’d do. After all, the Butterworths had never really cared about her. Even Claire said she believed Poppy had taken … something. Well, the Butterworths be danged. She’d had enough of them!
She got up, adjusted her sweater, and headed to a nearby park. There, at a small beach, she washed her face in the water.
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