Firestorm!

by Joan Hiatt Harlow

  Claire reached out and took his hand. “And with one another,” she added.

  FRIDAY MORNING,

  OCTOBER 6, 1871

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  - That’s Just the Way It Is -

  On Friday morning, Poppy opened the shed door and peeked out. Ticktock unfolded her legs and followed Poppy to the door.

  The sun was bright and the fresh air smelled clean as a strong breeze blew across the waterfront. The lake shimmered like silver.

  “We needs to find food for both of us and I needs a bathroom,” Poppy said to Ticktock. “You greedy goat! Spillin’ all the grain from the pail—and then eatin’ it all up. Now there’s not enough for today.” At least there was some parched grass around for the goat to eat.

  Poppy attached Ticktock’s leash and walked toward a park with a privy and fresh water. She tied Ticktock to a tree while she went into the outhouse and then washed up at a public fountain.

  “I sure wish I could take a swim or bathe somewhere. I feel so scummy,” she told the goat. Ticktock looked up at her as if she understood. Poppy had two crackers left in her sweater pocket. She gave one to the goat, who snatched it quickly with her tongue. “If you eat slowly, like me, it will last longer,” she told Ticktock. She counted the money in her pocket. Now she had four dollars and some change. She could get something to eat from a vendor with a cart, someone who sold fruit or hot dough. That way she wouldn’t have to take her eyes off Ticktock.

  It was time to think about stowing away on one of the steamers tied up nearby. It would be a big enough problem to get on board and hide herself—not to mention with a goat, too.

  But she had to protect Ticktock. After tonight, Ma Brennan and Mr. Plant would be out to get them both.

  As she started up the path toward the street, she saw two boys heading her way. Oh, no! It was Four Fingers Foley and his pal, Patrick Cahill! She turned and headed in the opposite direction, but it was too late. “Hey, Poppy!” Fingers yelled. “Stop! I got a message for ya!”

  Poppy started to run, but Ticktock, who was sniffing and gobbling food from an overturned garbage pail, pulled hard against her. And in one quick minute, the boys caught up with her.

  “Leave us alone!” Poppy yanked frantically on the goat’s leash.

  “Aw, calm down. We ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Patrick said. “We got a message from your chum, Justin Butterworth.”

  A message from Justin? “What does he want?”

  “I dunno. We saw him yesterday,” Fingers told her. “He said to tell you he needs to see you right away.”

  “And to come to his house … or somethin’.” Patrick scratched his head.

  “Oh, sure! I’ll do that. They’ll throw me in jail,” Poppy exclaimed. “They thinks I stole somethin’ and I never did.”

  “Yeah? Then what are you doin’ with his goat?” Fingers asked.

  “Tryin’ to save her. Ma Brennan’s lookin’ to kill her ’cause … well, never mind. It’s none of your beeswax anyhow.” Poppy bit her tongue. Would they tell Ma that they’d seen her with Ticktock?

  “How come you two are such chums with Justin? You were always beatin’ up on him,” Poppy said.

  “Well, he’s not so bad.” Fingers patted the goat. “He was lookin’ everywhere for you. He said for you to go to his house.”

  “Ha! Not in a pig’s eye!” Poppy started to walk away.

  “We’ll tell him what you said,” Patrick promised. “We may see him at the Methodist church tomorrow. We’re goin’ to get new clothes.”

  Fingers snickered. “Justin threw up all over me when I punched him. Ruined my best sweater.”

  “Do you want us to tell him anything?” Patrick asked. “About the goat?”

  Poppy thought about it for a few moments. “Yes. Tell him I took the goat to hide her from Ma Brennan. She said she’d make her into a stew or throw her into the dog pit. That’s why I took her. Not to steal her.” She put her hands on her hips. “Can you get that right?”

  “We’re not stupid,” Fingers snapped. “Why would Ma Brennan give two hoots about that goat?”

  “’Cause she’s tryin’ to get even with me for … oh, like I said, it’s none of your beeswax!” She pulled Ticktock away and began walking toward the road.

  “You ought to go to the church yourself with your messages. Then you can get some clothes. You’re a mess, Poppy!” Fingers yelled after her.

  Poppy could feel her face redden. Her pretty dress wasn’t pretty anymore. She would never be one of the nice girls. But that’s just the way it was.

  SATURDAY MORNING,

  OCTOBER 7, 1871

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  - Not in a Pig’s Eye! -

  Saturday morning was another sad day for Justin. This was the second day he went to the empty goat barn and sat on the doorsill. Everything was too quiet without Ticktock’s bleating, her noisy bell, and the happy little sounds she usually made when she greeted him.

  Although the family spent the better part of yesterday asking if anyone had seen a girl with a goat, no one had. Father even checked with the police, but not a soul had any idea where Poppy went with Ticktock.

  They had eaten supper silently last night. Justin could tell the rest of the family felt they’d done everything they could.

  Later that Saturday morning, at the church fair, tables were filled with various items of clothing. One side of the hall had men’s clothes—piles of sweaters, flannel shirts, trousers, and shoes, all only slightly worn. On hangers were nicely pressed suits and dress shirts. Justin was posted in that area, along with his chum Randy and Randy’s father. Forrest was there, too, wandering among the people, inviting them to church services.

  Claire and Mother helped on the other side of the hall, where women’s and children’s clothes were laid out in neat piles and on hangers.

  All Justin could think of was Poppy and Ticktock. Poppy could use clothes. Maybe she’d come into the church today. But it wasn’t likely. He knew she’d probably never show up around his family again. In any case, she sure knew the best way to hurt me, Justin thought. She knows how much I love Ticktock. I’ll never forgive her for stealing my goat.

  Justin’s brooding was interrupted when he looked up to see Four Fingers Foley and Patrick Cahill enter the church hall. They looked uncomfortably out of place, treading slowly and uneasily into the large room. Probably the first time they’ve been in a church, Justin thought.

  Justin went up to them. “I’ll help you find a sweater and shirt as promised, fellas. Do you need anything else, Fingers?” he asked.

  “Anything else that fits.”

  “I can use more new duds, too,” Patrick added.

  “But first, have you seen Poppy?” Justin asked.

  “Yeah, yesterday—down by the park at the lake. We gave her your message, but she said she couldn’t come to your house ’cause you’d probably have her arrested.”

  “Did she have Ticktock?”

  “She sure did,” Patrick answered. “She said she was protectin’ your goat ’cause …” He turned to his pal. “Why had she taken Ticktock, Fingers?”

  “You dummy. You can’t remember your own name!” Fingers snapped. Then, turning to Justin, he said, “She said Ma Brennan was lookin’ to steal Ticktock to kill her.”

  Patrick nodded. “Oh yeah—she said she’d cook her into a stew or throw her at the dogs.”

  “What?” Justin yelled, and several people, including Forrest, looked his way. “Why?” he asked more softly.

  “I dunno. It was about Ma punishin’ Poppy for somethin’ or other,” Patrick said.

  “Yeah. Poppy said to tell you that she didn’t steal Ticktock. She was hiding her from Ma.”

  “Why didn’t she just come and tell me? Didn’t you tell her we know she didn’t steal anything?”

  “She said she wouldn’t come—not in a pig’s eye. Those were her exact words,” Fingers said.

  “She may come here for clothes, though.” Pa
trick looked accusingly at Fingers. “You told her she needed clothes and she looked a mess.”

  “I’ve got to talk to her. I thought she was getting even with me by stealin’ my goat,” Justin said. “So now it’s time to come back and we can straighten everything out. It was all a big misunderstanding.”

  “It’s more than that,” Fingers said. “When Ma Brennan’s out to get someone … believe you me, it’s not just a misunderstandin’!”

  “So Ticktock really is in danger, right?” Justin asked.

  “Right,” Fingers replied. “And I’m thinkin’ Poppy’s in big danger, too. Why don’t you go lookin’ down by the river park where we saw her?”

  “She saw me Thursday. I called but she ran away. Please, chums, if you see her first, tell her to come here to the church. She and Ticktock will be safe here.”

  “She won’t come,” Patrick said.

  Fingers shook his head. “Nope. Not in a pig’s eye.”

  SUNDAY MORNING,

  OCTOBER 8, 1871

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  - Ticktock Goes to Church -

  Once again, this time on Sunday morning, Poppy opened the door of the deserted shed to a windy day—so windy, in fact, that the door almost pulled her outside when she released it. The sand and dust danced in swirls and circled over the dry streets and sidewalks. Wind gusted the surface of Lake Michigan in great waves and surf that cascaded over the shoreline. Boats tugged on their ropes, squealing and scraping against the posts and docks.

  Poppy’s stomach growled, begging for food. She didn’t dare use the little money she still had—not yet, not until she safely stowed away aboard a ship heading for somewhere else.

  Where would “somewhere else” be? Another city full of beggars and thieves, like Chicago?

  It seemed as if the Butterworths hardly knew the Chicago where Poppy lived—the dark, underground, hidden places that disappeared in the morning sunlight as if they were only shadows or bad dreams.

  On the other hand, the world of people like the Butterworths was a world Poppy hardly knew. That was a place where candles glistened and families laughed and loved. That would never be Poppy’s world.

  But Ticktock was from Justin’s world, and it was time Poppy took her back. She would be in a safe place now that Fingers and Patrick had told Justin about Ma Brennan’s threats. Thank goodness she had run into those two yesterday evening. Poppy was beginning to wonder how on earth she’d stow away on a ship with a goat.

  I’ll take her to the church and leave her there.

  Poppy led the little goat up the road toward the Methodist church on Wabash Avenue. As they drew near, the church bells were ringing and families were passing through the heavy wooden doors. Were the Butterworths there? Was Claire? When Claire married Pastor Belmont, she’d be living in the parish house next door. It was a big house—huge, in fact. Poppy smiled when she pictured little Mew roaming around the place. She missed holding that purring little furry bundle.

  She went to the backyard of the parish house and hitched Ticktock to the end of a clothesline that had fallen to the ground. Perfect! The goat had room to roam and still couldn’t get away from the yard. When Parson Belmont came home, he was sure to see—and hear—Ticktock, who would be bleating for attention.

  Claire said there were sheep in the church. Well, now there’s a goat, too.

  “You’ll be safe here, dearie.” Poppy put her arms around Ticktock and pressed her face against the goat’s stubbly neck. “Good-bye, Ticktock,” she whispered. “I do love you.”

  Poppy turned away and headed back to the waterfront.

  SUNDAY MORNING,

  OCTOBER 8, 1871

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  - A Surprise at the Parish House -

  Justin was ready for church, but he didn’t want to go. He really liked his future brother-in-law, Forrest, but the sermons were boring—at least to Justin.

  I wish Mother would let me stay home today. After the wedding, I just know Claire and Mother will make me go to church every single Sunday. But right now I just want to find Ticktock and Poppy instead of sitting for hours on a hard pew.

  He went to the parlor, where Father was enjoying his Sunday morning coffee and newspaper.

  “Do I have to go to church today?” Justin asked. “I could be out looking for Poppy and Ticktock.”

  Father put down the paper and scrutinized his son. “Justin, Forrest is giving a sermon about telling the truth and taking responsibility for your own mistakes. You might benefit from listening.”

  “I know, I know. I’m trying my best to take responsibility for my own stupid mistakes.” Justin sighed. He knew it would be of no use to argue.

  During the church service, it was hard for Justin to keep his eyes open. It wasn’t because Forrest’s sermon was more tiresome than usual. It was because his message was more for grown-ups than it was for kids like Justin. Didn’t ministers know that kids needed help, too?

  Justin did hear one thing that stuck in his mind: Forrest said to pray for those who were unfortunate. If anyone was unfortunate, it was Poppy. Justin prayed for her while Forrest went on with his sermon. “Please help me find Poppy,” he whispered.

  Justin wriggled in the stiff pew. Would God, who made the earth and all the stars in the universe, hear his prayer? God seemed so far away. How could he hear everyone’s prayers?

  The sermon was finally over, and Justin and his family got up to leave. Forrest was standing on the front steps, shaking hands with parishioners. To the Butterworths he whispered, “Don’t forget. You’re coming over to the parish house for Sunday dinner. It should be readynow.”

  Oh, no, Justin thought. I’ll never get to find Poppy and Ticktock now. By the time we get through, it will be dark.

  After a few minutes of visiting with other church members, Justin and his family headed over to the parish house next door. Justin hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he smelled the aroma of an oven roast drifting from the kitchen.

  “Come, sit,” Forrest said, his hand gesturing toward the beautifully set table. The housekeeper brought a simple clear soup in a china soup crock. Forrest ladled out the soup into small glass bowls for everyone. Justin picked his up like a cup and slurped it quickly and noisily.

  “Justin!” Claire whispered. “That’s rude!”

  “I know,” he answered. “But I’m in a hurry. I want to go look for Poppy. And my goat.”

  The housekeeper, who was pouring water into all the glasses on the table, paused. “Are you looking for a goat?” she asked.

  “Yes, my little goat was stolen,” Justin replied.

  “Well, there’s a young goat tied up out in our backyard. I wondered where it came from. Could it be yours?” she asked.

  Justin jumped up and ran through the kitchen to the back door. “Ticktock!” Justin leaped off the porch steps and flew to his pet. The tiny kid bleated and her tail waved back and forth rapidly.

  “It is you! My own little Ticktock!” Justin opened his arms and Ticktock plunged headlong into his embrace.

  SUNDAY AFTERNOON,

  OCTOBER 8, 1871

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  - Lonely and Scared -

  Poppy was lonely now that she left Ticktock at the church. There was nowhere to go except to the ugly wooden shed where she’d been sleeping. In some ways she missed Ma’s two girls. Sometimes they stood up for her, and they had usually all worked well together. Recently, though, there’d been jealousy when Poppy got the best marks in Ma’s “school.” Now the new girls, Julia and Renee, would take her place. She’d never be missed.

  At least it was quiet inside the shed. Back at the Willow, the noisy roughs upstairs and down in the cellar rooms were hollering, fighting, laughing, and swearing all night long. Poppy was used to it. It was as Justin once said—the clocks all ticked and chimed the hours in the shop, but he hardly heard them anymore.

  Poppy smelled something good—the aroma of grilling sausage! Around the cor
ner was a street vendor who was cooking sausages and baked potatoes on a grill. Poppy gladly paid the fifteen cents for both and then went down to the waterside to eat.

  The vendor had poured melted butter onto the potato and the sausage was in a roll. She tried to eat slowly, to make them last, but she was too hungry and chomped everything down in a flash.

  How long could she go on with the money she had? She’d probably have to steal again. I don’t want to steal. I don’t want to be Poppy the pickpocket anymore. But I’m hungry. I can’t go back to Ma. No, she’ll beat me for not helping her rob the Butterworths’ jewelry store.

  “Poppy!”

  Poppy jumped up, ready to run, when she heard her name called.

  “Wait a minute!” It was Julia. “We want to talk to ya.” She raced toward Poppy, pulling Renee along by her hand.

  “What do ya want?” Poppy stiffened, ready for a brawl.

  “I just wanted to tell ya we ran away from Ma Brennan’s, too. We’re wonderin’ where you’ve been hidin’ and where you get food.”

  “I’m not tellin’ anyone where I’m stayin’ and I don’t have any money for food.”

  Julia pointed to a piece of potato skin on Poppy’s dress. “So, how’d ya get that? Did you steal it?”

  “No, I used the last of my money. Where are you stayin’?” Poppy asked.

  Renee spoke up. “We met a lady who has lots of girls stayin’ with her—kinda like Ma, only she’s nicer.”

  “The girls are older than us,” Julia said. “She says she’ll put us to work someday. But for now we can stay there. It’s on the fourth floor of a big house. We can see all over from our window. I ain’t ever been up so high in all my borned days.”