Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider

by Julie Dewey

  It was growing late so I took Sonya for a lemonade and burger, which she smothered in ketchup and sweet pickle relish. I knew the hotel would not allow her entrance in her current state so we found a running fountain and I used my under garments as a wash cloth and cleansed her face and arms from weeks of smudges and grime. I had money to spare so we found a store front offering used clothes for children, the outfits and signs in the windows beckoning shoppers to come in for the best prices in town. I held Sonya by the hand and together we discovered her true size, a five. I told her we would pick out one practical outfit so she would have something that wouldn’t wear out so quickly, but when she pointed to pink gingham checked dressed with starched white collar I could not withhold it from her. I allowed her to try it on and purchased it for her immediately; we threw away her old rags and went to find shoes to match the dress.

  It was getting late so we walked back to the hotel and I invited Sonya to stay with me for the night. She and I slept comfortably on the generous bed, I don’t think she had ever been in a bed of this size before, if at all, and the down comforter seemed to swallow her up. The child stole my heart; I covered her and watched her sleep. I felt my own baby moving inside me and wondered in amazement at my circumstance. I didn’t want to give Sonya any false hope by doting on her, but now I couldn’t bear the thought of her alone on the streets once I went back home to my comfortable bed and family.

  In the morning I woke to Sonya’s humming and her little fingers drawing on my back. She played with my auburn hair and smiled incredulously at me when I turned towards her. We indulged in room service and then took turns bathing; I spent the better part of an hour on Sonya’s hair as it was tangled and unkempt from lack of brushing. We chose to give her a middle part and do two French braids that attached in the back and formed a bun at the nape of her neck, it was going to be another hot day and this would help keep her cool. She looked precious and what’s more, she felt giddy. She was so undernourished it was hard for her to eat more than a pancake and glass of juice, but I hoped to provide her, while I was here with as many good meals as I was able.

  The only thing unnerving to me was how trusting this child was. I would do her no harm, but what if someone else did? I was clucking and fussing over her like a mother hen.

  Together we walked the swollen streets from uptown Manhattan to the more gruesome and fearful Five Points, crossing from Bayard to Leonard before seeing Paradise Place in our sights once again. She held my hand as we went, leading me towards an arena of sorts. There was to be a fight here in a few days’ time and we studied the posters to see who was pitted against whom. A giant by the name of Vladimir had posters everywhere, encouraging people to bet on him. There were others too, Patrick Kelly, Bill O’Malley, Brian O’Donnelly, all these lads with Irish names surely having immigrated here recently and found America to be lacking in work, the promised land not so promising after all.

  We searched the benches of the arena, only finding scraps of garbage and old ticket stubs. When Sonya picked up food from the ground and put it to her mouth I told her no and she dropped it immediately. We bought a warm pretzel with mustard to share and sat enjoying the salty morsels together. There was no sign of Pauli, Scotty, or Candy anywhere. Exhaustion was settling into my bones, so we sat for a rest in a rusty set of chairs biding our time.

  On my fourth day in New York I decided to change pace. Instead of looking for Scotty, I would embark on finding Sister Agnes. She was a beacon for me and the thought of seeing her brought tears to my eyes.

  Sure enough, Sister was still placing orphans from the roughest parts of the city on orphan trains and sending them west. She had great success in placing the children because she was diligent about placing ads in all the stops along her route west. She looked the same, slightly more plump in her cheeks and chin, but otherwise she had the same wooden cross and wiry glasses.

  “Sister Agnes?” I called to her from behind.

  She turned and immediately remembered me, although I was one of thousands of children she took care of over the years.

  “Mary! It is wonderful to see you!” She clasped her hands in prayer position and reached towards me, embracing me in her arms as she did years ago, exuding warmth and security.

  “Who do we have here?” She nodded to Sonya who had snuck in behind me and was clutching my dress.

  “Why this is my friend Sonya, she has become my shadow this week, I am afraid she is orphaned and I was hoping I could bring her to you when my journey here is finished.”

  The ladies held hands and sat in a pew facing each other as they spoke.

  “Of course, do you know anything at all about her?” Agnes took in the sight of the girl before her.

  “She barely speaks, but I found her alone, scraggly and threadbare, she is a waif is she not?” The women examined Sonya and Sister said, “Guten tag, Sonya.” The girl beamed and began talking a blue streak in a language I was unfamiliar with.

  “Oh my goodness, Sister, how did you know?”

  “Well Sonya is a common name for those of German descent; we have thousands and thousands of German immigrants in the streets.”

  Sister Agnes continued speaking with Sonya in German and I did my best to use context clues and follow along.

  It was all so exciting to break through to this child and have a means of communication, however her story was pitiful. She was on a boat with her family, crossing the great water when people began falling ill. Sadly her entire family died and were disposed of by being tossed overboard into the sea. Sonya was all alone.

  “I will see to it she goes to a good German home, Mary. Now do tell me, what brings you back to New York?”

  I told Sister Agnes of my pregnancy and she vaguely remembered Scotty, who was given the name Matthew when put on the train. I told her of our love and how he came back to the city for work, I didn’t go into detail beyond that. He didn’t know about the baby and I needed to find him and tell him. Sister did not judge me; she only listened and held my hand while I spoke. After I told her my tale, she asked after Edmund. I felt guilt leak from my pores because I had not spent much quality time with him lately, he was a tad more reclusive, always leafing through law books and studying trials. He worked numerous odd jobs unlike other boys his age who played ball to fill their time.

  The clock struck high noon and Sister Agnes had many children to attend and prepare for their journeys. I wished I had been more diligent in my correspondence with her across the years, but time got the best of me.

  Sister Agnes had a light that shined brightly on all those she came across, and to this day I am blessed to have known her.

  Chapter 19 Scotty

  For a fleeting instant I would have sworn I saw Mary on Cross Street catty corner to Paradise Square where I was lunching at the Oyster Shack. After all these years, the restaurant still served up the best sea food in the Five Points. You could get a juicy crab roll for a mere seven cents; it was a bargain given the sandwich’s large size, and lumpy tender meat. Some people questioned the ingredients authenticity, but I gulped it down grateful for a full stomach. I did a double take when I saw a woman resembling Mary cross the street holding the hand of a little girl, her daughter I presumed. I was seeing her silhouette everywhere I went, she filled my dreams at night and now I was imagining her here in New York City.

  Our last moments were full of tenderness and sorrow. I was haunted by her frail appearance, hollowed eyes, greasy hair, yet I loved her all the more in this state. She gave me the courage I needed to get back in the ring.

  I had to win my fight tomorrow, the prize was one hundred dollars split two ways, seventy to thirty in my favor for the win. If I was able I would consider picking up other matches, ideally saving enough money for a solid down payment on a farm, preferably the Wrights’. I wanted to buy Mary an engagement ring, and have money to spare for proper home furnishings and necessities.

  The Wrights wanted two thousand for their farm and all its inhabitant
s. There were currently fifty head of cattle, eleven horses, countless chickens, three or four billy goats, several feral barn cats that didn’t concern me and two retrievers that I assumed would go where the Wrights went. The red barns housing the animals were satisfactory for the time being, there were only minimal leaks in the roofs, the haylofts operated smoothly, and the fencing was ongoing. Boards rotted and were replaced; white washing would always be a necessary evil. I learned over the years that was just part of farm life.

  The barn which housed the tools, carriages, and any spare parts on the other hand needed to be torn down and restructured; as it stood now it was only one good wind storm away from collapsing. I figured that would cost a good two hundred or more to build with the cost of materials and hired help.

  Two thousand plus the additional money for the barn, plus the cost of furniture and feed for the animals, it was a scary and serious undertaking. But I wanted it more than anything else in this world. I needed it actually, something belonging to me, tangible, that I worked for and would reap the rewards from. Nothing compared to the feeling of birthing a calf, or breaking a foal. Perhaps we would add sows to the mix for slaughter purposes, it could be a reliable source for income. If I could only get enough money to purchase a few to start, they would breed quickly. The dollar signs were adding up, causing indigestion. I had to focus in on tomorrow’s fight. If I won this bout I would advance.

  I panicked at the thought of Mary in Binghamton; it had been several months since I last saw her, how had she changed? Was she taking better care of herself? Her appearance broke my heart when I snuck into her room and bed; she looked how I felt, miserable. Some people just hide it better I suppose, Mary was always one to wear her heart on her sleeve, one of the reasons I loved her so intensely. She always told me what she thought and wasn’t afraid to state her opinion on any topic. She was bright too, and funny. Golly, if she knew I was fighting I would hear about it; thank God she didn’t make me swear to her that I would stay away from the ring.

  My workout requirements for today included the psychological aspects of training. I was in shape that was certain, now I had to focus on getting into my opponent’s head. I asked around to find out who I was fighting, and after lots of investigation I found out I was put against a black kid from the sixth ward. I had seen him fight weeks ago; he was good, very good in fact. He was shorter and stockier than I was, but very muscular and strong, the kid could take a punch. I would have to keep him away with jabs.

  “I will win this, I will win this, I will win this.” I repeated my mantra, convinced of my victory, feeling the money in my hands already. I was confidant I had what it would take to win, but not cocky, there was a difference. I had great respect for my opponent; clearly he was training as hard if not harder than I was. I could bet he wouldn’t get a seventy to thirty cut of his winnings either due to his color. The blackies always got ripped off.

  I had to get out of my head for a bit, so I decided to walk the streets, take a look see around the Five Points. Eli was never far from my mind, I had six other siblings as well but couldn’t even remember their names.

  Bets were already being placed, the fight ring buzzed with excitement. Vladimir was back to decimate some poor soul. Anyone willing to go in the ring with him got one hundred and fifty dollars, no split. It was tempting but not worth my life. The man was enormous, thighs like watermelons, somewhere around three hundred pounds of muscle and flub. He was an imposing character and I would stay far from him.

  Chapter 20 Pauli

  “It’s been almost ten years.”

  “I know, Love, a lot has happened over the years, why just look at us! Shop owners with property we call our own, you with your thinning salty hair and me all fat and happy,” Candy looked around our bright and cheerful home bursting with live plants, amused by all she had accomplished and gained over years. She twirled in her pajamas still looking beautiful to me despite the weight she gained around her middle and bum. She collected plants the way some women collect jewelry. We had spider plants that trailed from the ceiling to the floor, strawberry plants that produced fruit, we had jades of all kinds, cacti and asparagus ferns with feathery fronds, but Candy’s favorite was the purple orchid and she tended it like a baby.

  We both thought back to time spent holed up in the old Brewery in Paradise Park, home to the Roach Guards who profited from the brothel they owned upstairs and the gambling hall below. Candy herself was a prostitute until I laid eyes on her and forbade her to continue. We have been together ever since. Girls came and went in the Brewery and many became my pet for a time, but none stole my heart at first glance like Candy did. We made love the first night, it was not just an act, as she performed many times before; this was real. We fell madly in love with each other and became inseparable. She took the position of nursemaid among the Roach Guards, and was very skilled at it, as she proved when the small boy full of spit and vinegar came into our lives shortly after.

  “I remember it like yesterday, when Lenny pulled a scrappy little thing into my office, the kid was filthy dirty and terrified for his life, but he stood before me with the courage of a lion, head up, shoulders back, looking me in the eye. What a piece of work. If there is one thing I am certain of, it’s that vengeance keeps a man alive, and Scotty had plenty of that. Somewhere he is out there.”

  “Amen to that, I for one hope he has moved on, but I remember how angry he was. He wore a grimace all the time, and why wouldn’t he after he was beaten and left to die.”

  “You nursed him back to health, my love, and I thank God for that every day.” Candy stepped lightly towards me and sat in my lap knowing how hard it was for me to admit that Scotty was lost to us. We looked for him day and night for three weeks straight, but then we had the baby to think of. Candy was feeling ill; she was in her first trimester and began spotting. I had to get her to a place of safety, a place she could rest both her body and mind. We left the city limits and went to New Jersey using all our savings. We summoned a doctor at the hotel where we were staying but before he made it, Candy began bleeding profusely; it was a miscarriage, no doubt caused by the stress of our squalid living conditions.

  “It wasn’t meant to be,” Candy assured me, giving me strength when it was her body that betrayed her.

  “It’s my fault, I should have insisted we leave sooner, Five Points is no place for a woman having a child, not to mention to raise a family.”

  “What’s done is done, baby, we will try again.”

  That was the worst month in their memories, for they not only lost their baby but they lost Scotty, whom they felt a kinship with automatically. He had a fighting spirit and clung to them in a way that made them feel needed.

  “I am sorry I have not been able to give you more children, my love,” Candy kissed my brow.

  “Darling, it’s I who am sorry. I know how desperately you wanted a family. If only I found you sooner.” My voice trailed off as I remembered the youth who approached me twelve years earlier, asking if I needed any favors. She was a star-gazer, silky blond hair and a low cut blue gown showing off her ample bosom, it was enticing, but I took one look in this harlot’s eyes and felt a connection that warranted more than just a favor.

  “You saved me, Pauli, thank God I found you when I did, and thank god you weren’t like all the other men.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as they always did when she recounted her days as a harlot, servicing men in any manner they chose. Dancing a strip tease for them or blowing them before and after the bedding took place. It was purely humiliating.

  “I fell in love with you immediately, and I wouldn’t change a thing between us, kids or no kids, I love you more today than ever before.” I put my dishes in our sink and hugged her, holding tighter than usual, “Well, I better go open the store, we have a new shipment today, do you think you’ll be out soon?”

  “Yes, let me just tend to my hair and I will be there shortly.”

  I knew she was not only setting her hair in cu
rlers but gathering herself; whenever we spoke of the children lost to us Candy became emotional. Luckily we had the store to focus our attentions on. Neither of us liked New Jersey and both were hopeful that someday we would find Scotty again in New York so we moved back, taking a few boxes of top hats, gloves, and vests that we stole along the way. It was our last crime, and enabled us to establish the Mr. and Mrs. Shoppe just below Manhattan. We positioned ourselves midway between the uptown wealth and downtown poverty so we could have customers from all walks come to us for their needs. There were ups and downs initially, but now business thrived; we carried everything from pre-fabricated to custom-made men’s wear, hats, caps, shirts, coats, frocks, cravats, belts, socks and shoes, to women’s wear which was Candy’s department of course. She proved to have an eye for design and often took to embellishing her own aprons, dresses, bonnets and gloves for the display case, which sold out immediately. Town folk loved the detail she put into the bonnets and gloves, but the parasols stole the business. We considered our lives blessed, for we had a flourishing business and place to sleep at night.

  The bell we dangled from the door rang indicating our first customer of the day; she was a lady who kept a studious eye on the child outside the shops door. The child seemed to have become enthralled with a dog of some sort and sat scratching it behind the ears. The woman was in search for a parasol to shield her from the day’s sun, she was pale and obviously with child.