Where was her brother? He knew better than to be out this late at night. It was dark, and the temperature had dropped. Mary pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, although it offered little protection. She thought longingly of her coat, even though it had been too small for her. But her ma had sold it two weeks ago. If the money had been used for food, Mary wouldn’t have minded as much.
She dismissed the thoughts from her mind. It was pointless worrying about a lost coat, especially as her five-year-old brother was missing on a freezing night.
“Kenny come on out. This isn’t a game. We got to get home, or Ma will be furious. I’m freezin’. I promise ya, Kenny, I will leather your backside myself, if you don’t tell me where you are.”
She heard a sound up ahead. Her heart slowed, as she struggled not to turn and race away, back to the relative safety of the area around the tenement where they lived.
“Mary,” a pitifully low voice called out.
She rushed forward, all fear for herself forgotten. She slipped in a pile of dirty slush, grazing her knee, but she ignored the sharp pain. Pushing aside a trash can, she found her brother, lying unmoving on the ground, a soft blanket of snow covering his lower body. Was he dead? Terror made her voice harsh.
“Kenny? What happened to you? You’ve been fighting again, haven’t ya? Ma is going to kill ya.” Mary pulled her younger brother to his feet, as she spoke.
“It wasn’t me fault, Mary. They was kickin’ Jack, and he’s too little to defend hisself. They were mean, real mean, but I got them back. I kicked them hard.”
Mary ruffled her brother’s hair, as she ran her eyes over his body. His coat, not much better than a ball of rags, was hanging off his shoulder by a thread. His scraped knees showed through his pants, and he’d lost a shoe. But it was the gash on his forehead she was most worried about. He brushed away the blood with his sleeve almost subconsciously.
She tore a piece from her underskirt. It wasn’t exactly clean, but it was the best she could do. She had to tidy him up before they went home, or Ma would have a fit. She pressed the cloth hard against his wound, despite his protests.
“I got to stop the bleeding, so quit squirming.” He winced, as she nursed him. In an effort to distract him from the pain, she asked, “So where is this Jack? Does he live around here?”
“Sort of,” Kenny answered, his eyes darting to a newspaper on the ground. She followed his gaze, jumping when the paper moved. Before she could stop him, Kenny swooped down and gathered something in his arms.
“This is Jack.” Kenny thrust his shoulders out, as he held out a pitiful excuse of a dog. Her brother was watching her closely, so she did her best to hide her horrified reaction. The puppy was skin and bones and had nearly as many lacerations on his body as Kenny did. She was about to tell Kenny to put it back where he had found it when the puppy opened his eyes. Big, chocolate-brown eyes captured her heart, just as surely as Kenny had done when he was born five years previously.
“Ah, the poor little mite. He looks like he hasn’t been fed in a month of Sundays,” she said, putting her hand out to the puppy. She knew better than to try to pat the dog. He had to get used to her first. He sniffed and then moved closer to her. She didn’t for a second think the attraction was anything but the smell of the bread roll she had eaten for lunch. He licked her hand, tickling her.
“Kenny, you can’t keep him, you know. You have to let him go.”
“Aw, Mary, I can’t. Jack will die. Those ba—”
“Kenneth Clark, don’t you go using that type of language. Wait until the priest catches up with ya.”
Her brother mumbled an apology, but she saw his hold on Jack tighten. She wished there was a way they could keep the pet, but she might as well have wished for a fairy godmother. Their ma wasn’t known for her kindness. In fact, the dog might be in more danger at their home than if they left Jack on the streets.
“Kenny love, you know Ma won’t let you keep him.”
“I hate her. Why does she have to be so awful? Mrs. Fleming was kind, and God took her away. Why couldn’t he have taken Ma and left Mrs. Fleming?”
Chapter 6
Shocked by her little brother’s outburst, Mary didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t reprimand him for his lack of respect for their mother, as, in fairness, the woman they called Ma didn’t deserve respect or anything else. All she cared about was what was in the bottle or pail she sometimes sent Kenny to collect from the bar. Mary pulled her shawl tighter. They needed to get home, not just because of the cold, but if her ma didn’t have dinner, the booze would have an even worse effect.
“Come on, Kenny, we got to get back. We are late already.”
“I ain’t leaving Jack here.”
“You can’t bring him with you.”
“I can. I’ll hide him. She won’t find him. Please, Mary. Don’t make me leave him here. He will die in the snow.”
Mary knew she should have insisted, but she could never say no to Kenny, especially now with his tears making two tracks down his dirt-covered face. The blood had started dripping again from the cut on his forehead. Jack whimpered, too, as if to ask could he please come. She laughed at the expression on the puppy’s face and found herself saying yes. She didn’t want to think of the price she would pay when her ma found out. Nothing ever stayed hidden from Ma for long.
Kenny carried the puppy close to his chest, as they trudged along the alleyways, until they got to their building. Mary kept an eye out for their mother, but she was nowhere to be seen. Did that mean she was still in bed, or had she gone out already?
She kept Kenny behind her, shielding him, as they walked into their room. The fire was almost out, so she rushed to put more kindling on top. Their room was almost colder than it had been outside. There was no sign of their ma. Mary kept her shawl on, as she rummaged through the dresser for some food. She had left bread and a small hunk of cheese there that morning, but it was gone. There was nothing for them to eat.
“I’m starvin’, and so is Jack. When’s dinner?” Kenny whined, as he sat almost on top of the pitiful, small fire.
“How about I treat us both to a bowl of soup from old Murphy’s stall? Maybe he might have a small bone for Jack?”
Kenny threw himself at her, grabbing her by the legs, almost making her fall over.
“You’re the best sister ever, Mary.”
She hugged him back, wishing that were true. If she had been a good sister, she would have found a way to protect Kenny. He was so thin his clothes, such as they were, just hung on him. Mrs. Fleming used to joke, he was a gannet, always starving. But, since she’d died last year, things had been even worse for her brother. She went to find her hidden pile of coins. Her ma didn’t know about this money, or else she would have spent it. She insisted Mary give up all her wages, but the foreman had given her some extra pennies for getting a job done earlier than expected. It was these she would use for her brother’s dinner.
“First we need to clean you up.”
“Ah, Mary do you have to? I hate being washed.”
“Yes, I do. We don’t want the neighbors talking about ya. Do you want Ma to know you were fightin’?”
Kenny shook his head. He didn’t complain, even when she washed the cut on his head. She didn’t have anything to cover it with. The air would help it heal faster.
“Can we go now? Me belly hurts.”
“Yes, Kenny. Just let me get rid of this.” Mary threw out the blood-stained water and hid the evidence of her brother’s mishap. Their ma didn’t need an excuse to beat Kenny, so it was best she didn’t find out about the fight.
Chapter 7
Kathleen Collins sat by the fire in Lily’s house, her sister Bridget beside her. Lily sat on a chair on the other side of the large fire. Richard, Carl, and Charlie were in Charlie’s office discussing business. Kathleen was thrilled Richard got on so well with her friends.
“Richard seems to be progressing well with his studies. Charlie says hi
s reputation is growing,” Bridget commented.
Bridget and Carl were staying with Lily and Charlie, as was their habit when they came to New York. Their fears for how Bridget would react to Laurie and Teddy, Lily’s twin boys, were unfounded. Bridget adored both of them and insisted on being their main caregiver, so Lily could rest more during the final stages of her pregnancy. Kathleen was struck again by how unfair life could be, as she watched her sister with the babies, which proved what a wonderful mother Bridget would have made.
“Richard has operated on quite a few rich people now, so he’s hoping news of his talent will spread. He still wants to set up a clinic near the sanctuary, so he can spend a couple of days a week helping the poor. They could never afford to see a plastic surgeon. Most of them don’t even call the doctor when they are ill,” Kathleen replied, staring deep into the fire. “I don’t think his work during the cholera outbreak won him any friends though. Not among those rich people. They didn’t seem to understand his need to be among the poor.”
“Don’t judge them too harshly, Kathleen. People are afraid of cholera. Most doctors know how easily it spreads, and they didn’t want a repeat of what happened back in ’92,” Bridget admonished gently before surprising her by saying, “Richard and you are well suited.”
She looked at her sister in shock, having assumed she would be concerned about the age gap.
“You don’t think he is too old for me?” Kathleen asked Bridget, who was looking at Lily with concern, as Lily moved in her seat. She was huge in her advanced state of pregnancy.
“From what Bridget says, you were born old,” Lily teased her, as Bridget nodded while smiling. “Shane likes him, too.”
Kathleen wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about her brother. She had thought the young man would have learned his lesson, but, since coming back to New York, he had gotten mixed up with the old gangs from the neighborhood. He seemed to spend a lot of time down in Hell’s Kitchen. Lily told her often, Shane was just working through his experiences and would be fine in time, but Kathleen wasn’t too sure. She didn’t see her brother as much as she should, but, on the rare occasions he showed up at the sanctuary, he always looked half-starved and showed signs of bruising. He hadn’t looked much better yesterday, when he arrived at Lily’s house to say hello to Bridget and Carl. Lily had invited him to stay, saying she had plenty of space, but Shane had declined. He didn’t stay long, saying he had business to take care of. Nobody had asked what type of business.
“Kathleen, stop screwing up your face. You look like you sucked on a whole bag of lemon drops. Who are you thinking about? Shane or Maura?” Bridget asked.
“How did you know?” Even as she asked, Kathleen knew the answer. Bridget had always been able to read her mind.
“With Christmas coming up, it’s only natural your thoughts would be on our family. What about Michael? Has he written back to you yet?” Bridget asked.
Kathleen shook her head. She had written to her brother every month since finding him. In the last fifteen months, she had two replies, the first a letter for last year’s Christmas and the second a note on her birthday. This year she had sent him a parcel for Christmas with some new clothes, warm socks, and underthings, as well as a couple of books. She didn’t know if he would get the gifts or not, even though she had included a note for the prison guards with a small gift for them. She hoped Michael had gotten them. The weather was viciously cold, and no doubt the prison was even worse than usual.
“What is the latest on Maura?” Lily asked, as she slipped off her shoes. Kathleen noted her friend’s swollen feet and pulled up a stool for Lily to rest them on.
“Tommy and Mini Mike found out a little about the man she and the others ran off with. None of it was good news, and we haven’t heard anything else. Neither of them thinks we will see Maura again.”
Bridget’s lips thinned. Kathleen knew she hadn’t forgiven Maura for what she had done. Bella had been lucky to walk away with a minor head injury, not that Maura had stopped to check on their friend after her new man friend had knocked Bella out.
“Oh, Kathleen, Bridget, I am so sorry. I know what she did was wrong, but she is still your sister.”
Kathleen didn’t want to talk about Maura but wasn’t sure how to change the subject. Thankfully, the door opened, and the men walked in.
“Are you ready to go, Kathleen? I can escort you home, before heading back to the hospital,” Richard asked, after he greeted Lily and Bridget.
“This late?” she said standing up.
“Yes, I have a patient I want to check up on. The operation went as well as could be expected, but I can’t help thinking I missed something. I won’t sleep without seeing her again.”
“You’re so dedicated, Richard. Your patients are lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, Lily, but I believe the work you guys do at the sanctuary is far more important.”
Kathleen kissed Lily on the cheek before reminding her friend to join them in the sanctuary on Friday evening for the Christmas-tree decorating. Bridget had told her she would be there as much as possible in the intervening week to help out.
“We wouldn’t miss it, would we Charlie? It is such a delight to see their little faces light up with excitement.”
“Yes, they are so excited, some of the girls have been sewing decorations and have persuaded the boys to join in. It will be fun. You should bring the babies, too.” Kathleen suggested, as she took her coat from Charlie’s hand. She kissed Bridget and Lily goodbye and gave Carl a hug. She adored her brother-in-law, who had made Bridget so happy.
“We will. Safe home, and see you on Friday,” Charlie called from his door, as Richard escorted her to the waiting cab. She shivered as much from the cold as the slight touch of his hand on her arm.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get much time to spend with you tonight,” Richard apologized, once they got settled in the cab.
“Don’t be. I love how well you and Charlie get on. Does he think your quest for funding will work?”
Richard was trying to raise money to fund more research into burn treatments specifically for children, but, at a time when the economy was suffering, it was proving difficult. Charlie had some contacts who Richard hoped would help.
“Yes, Charlie thinks he can drum up some interest. We may have our clinic before too long.”
Our clinic? Did he mean his and hers or was that his way of talking in general? Was this the moment to tell him she loved him?
Her chance passed as he spoke again.
“The snow is falling pretty heavy tonight.”
They turned down the street toward the sanctuary.
“Yes, it will be freezing for all those without shelter. I love Christmas, Richard, but I wish we could provide room and board for all the families that need it.”
Richard didn’t reply but took her hands and warmed them in his. Then he helped her out of the cab, kissed her on the forehead and waited for her to go inside the sanctuary. Before she had closed the door, he was gone, back out into the snow. She hoped his patient would recover but couldn’t help feeling a little bit miffed he had hurried off.
Chapter 8
Kenny and Mary shivered, as they walked quickly to Murphy’s stall. He was at the end of the line of stalls, and most of his neighbors had already closed up. The street was covered in the mess they left behind with street urchins digging through the waste in the hope of salvaging some food. Mary held onto Kenny’s arm tighter, as they picked their way through the debris to reach Mr. Murphy. The large, red-faced man with the bulbous nose and kind eyes was close to closing up for the day, but he smiled warmly at the two of them.
“Mary lass, you just caught me before I was off to home. Wow, Kenny lad, that’s some bruise you got. Were you fighting again?”
“Yes, Mr. Murphy, but it wasn’t my fault. The other lads were bigger than me.”
“They always are, son. Bullies never pick on their own size. You run away next time you see them. You d
on’t want them beating you again,” Mr. Murphy said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Mary, what can I get you?”
“A bowl of soup and a piece of bread for Kenny, please. And an old bone if you have it.”
“Sorry, Mary, but I put the bones into the soup. It gives extra nourishment. What did you want a bone for anyway? Growing girl like you needs soup yourself.”
“It’s for my dog, Mr. Murphy. Mary said she would feed Jack. He’s starvin’,” Kenny explained.
Murphy’s eyes met Mary’s, and she hated seeing the pity in the older man’s face. She didn’t have much pride. She couldn’t afford it, but she hated anyone knowing just how badly off they were. In this place, where everyone was struggling to get by, they weren’t the only ones starving. But while many families had their men drinking the wages, it was still unusual for a mother to put the gin before her own children.
“I’m not hungry. I ate at work. Kenny hasn’t eaten since breakfast,” she said bravely, despite the wave of longing hitting her with the smell. She saw by his expression that he didn’t believe her.
“Go on, Mary, have a cup of soup. You’ll be doing me a favor. I want to go home to the missus, but I can’t until the urn is empty. And I won’t waste good food. Go on now, child, get that into ya. I have a piece of stale bread, too—if you dunk it into the soup, it will be fine. I won’t charge you for it. Sure the birds would have benefited from it, if you two hadn’t come along.”
Mary accepted the gift gratefully, knowing full well Mr. Murphy was being kind. He had a family of his own to feed, and she was certain Mrs. Murphy would have found a use for both the leftover bread and soup.
It was delicious, but then hunger was a good appetizer, Da had said. A tear escaped, as she thought of her dad. Why had he left them? Couldn’t he have taken them with him when he went?
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