Go Away Home

by Carol Bodensteiner

  “You got a problem?” Vern stepped up beside Joe.

  “Not me.” The man poked a finger in Vern’s chest. “You oughta think about who your friends really are.” He nailed Joe with a malicious glare. “Kraut.” He spat, then swung his gaze to his buddies. “What do you think, boys? Maybe our Kraut friend here needs help with his English.”

  Hair rose on Liddie’s arms as a bead of sweat trickled between her breasts. She scanned the crowd for any friendly face. There was not one.

  “You don’t even know me.” Joe pushed the man’s arm aside.

  “We’re signing up. Like you,” Vern said.

  The circle of men tightened.

  “Don’t know’s how I’d want to serve next to a Kraut. Stinks.” He laughed, though his eyes were flat with hate. “And you might wake up dead.”

  “Joe. Please.” Liddie tugged at his arm.

  The man’s voice filled with scorn when he turned to Liddie. “You’re English. You coulda done better.” He poked a finger in Joe’s chest. “And you. You better remember where you live.”

  She moved closer to Joe. The man’s words raised her ire. “I’m American,” she said, her eyes never leaving the man. “Joe’s American. A pin doesn’t make you anything.”

  “Stay back, Liddie,” Joe said. He grabbed the man’s hand, twisting his wrist hard, shouldering in so his face was inches from his accuser. “You leave my wife alone.”

  For the baby’s sake, Liddie knew she should step away, but she wouldn’t leave her husband.

  “Let it go, Joe.” Vern put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “He’s not worth it.”

  “Everything all right here?” a man interrupted.

  When Liddie saw the county sheriff, his two deputies behind him, she gasped in relief.

  “Going in to register, Sheriff.” Joe released the man’s hand. “Just like everyone.”

  The man rubbed his wrist. “Making sure these folks know the rules for signing up.”

  As quickly as it had formed, the threatening circle of men dissolved.

  Joe took Liddie’s elbow. “Let’s go.”

  The women stayed within arm’s reach of their husbands while the men registered. Later, they rode back to the farm in silence.

  After that day, Joe confined his German words to their home.

  In mid-July, Minnie suffered her third miscarriage. In mid-August, Liddie gave birth to a healthy baby girl who looked just like Joe. They named her Rose. At the end of August, Joe and Vern received certificates from the draft board discharging them from military service on the grounds that they were married men, the sole support of their wives and children. For Vern and Minnie, the wording was cruel.

  Chapter 39

  Liddie reveled in being a new mother. Seeing her daughter grow and develop every single day reminded her of watching an image emerge in a darkroom developing tray, though this was tenfold better. And the process never ended. Almost daily, Rose found a new way to delight, from her first smile to finding her toes.

  Whenever Joe came into the house, he peeked in the cradle. If Rose wasn’t sleeping, and even sometimes if she was, he picked her up, supporting her in the crook of his arm, and told her stories about his day.

  Some evenings, Liddie cuddled next to Joe on the sofa or in their bed as he held Rose, singing German lullabies to her until it was time to nurse again. Sometimes, both Liddie and Rose fell asleep to Joe’s singing. Then, with luck, Joe could slip Rose into the cradle without waking her and they all got to sleep.

  On other nights, after Liddie had crawled out of bed for the third time in response to her baby’s hunger, she wondered if she’d ever know a fully restful night again. Even the beauty she found in the dark quiet with her daughter at her breast was lost as her eyes drooped and she jerked awake again and again.

  On the days following those sleepless nights, Liddie was particularly grateful her mother lived with them. In addition to calming whatever worries Liddie may have felt about caring for a new baby, Margretta yearned to hold Rose as much as Joe did. If Liddie so much as yawned during the day, Margretta sent her off to rest for a few minutes while she took care of Rose.

  While Liddie thrived in new motherhood, the strain of three lost pregnancies drained the life from Minnie. She lost weight, and her already-small frame shrank in on itself. She spoke less, smiled less. After Rose was born, Minnie feigned happiness when they visited, but Liddie saw her smile fade when she thought no one was looking. More and more often, Minnie begged off when Vern came to Joe and Liddie’s farm.

  She understood how conflicted Minnie felt seeing Liddie’s healthy baby. But she missed her friend and wanted to help.

  Earlier that summer, Liddie had read an article in the newspaper about adoption. She hesitated to bring it up lest Minnie think she was suggesting giving up on a child of her own. But when Minnie’s malaise persisted, Liddie thought she had to try. She called Minnie and asked her to come help in the garden. Minnie could not ignore someone asking for help. Margretta found an excuse to be at work in the house and kept Rose there with her.

  As they searched the dying vines for green beans, Liddie kept glancing at Minnie. “That’s the end of that row,” she said as she threw a last handful into the dishpan. She lifted her face to the warm September sun. “Isn’t it beautiful today? Let’s sit on the grass, okay?”

  “I guess.” Minnie didn’t bother to look up.

  She’d been like that all day. There, but not there. Liddie drew a breath. “I’m concerned about you, Minnie. How are you doing?”

  “Oh, fine.” Minnie picked at the hem of her apron. “A little tired, I guess.”

  Liddie felt intrusive but plowed on. “I wondered. Have you and Vern ever talked about adopting a child?”

  Minnie’s eyes filled with tears. “I tried. He stomped out of the house. He’s so angry all the time. He goes out in the morning and stays out all day. He comes in to eat and leaves as fast as he can.”

  “I’m sure he’s not mad at you.”

  “Really? Why not?” She thrust out her chin, looking directly at Liddie for the first time. “If he had a cow that couldn’t have calves, he’d get rid of it.”

  “Minnie Treadway!” Liddie was shocked. “You are not a cow. You’re his wife. Don’t you ever think that way.”

  “I feel so guilty.”

  “Why, Minnie? You didn’t do anything to cause yourself to lose those babies.” Liddie put an arm around Minnie’s shoulders. “So why feel guilty?”

  Tears streamed down Minnie’s cheeks. She shook her head, the defiance gone. “Having children is my job. He wants a baby, too. So badly.” Minnie coughed a sob. “The doctor doesn’t think I can have any.”

  “Oh, Minnie.” Liddie pulled her close. “Does Vern know this?”

  Minnie nodded.

  Liddie wanted to shake her brother. How could he turn away when his wife was hurting so badly? “He loves you.”

  “I thought he did. But three times, Liddie. I’ve lost three babies. How can he love me now?”

  “No one wanted those babies more than you, Minnie. He knows that. Would you adopt?”

  “I would. But he said if he couldn’t have his own, he didn’t want any children at all.”

  Minnie crumpled, waves of grief racking her body. Liddie could do nothing but hold her, rocking as she rocked Rose when she was upset, wishing she could make things better for Minnie as easily as she could for her daughter.

  Two weeks later, Minnie visited again, holding a newspaper article about a train bringing orphaned children from New York to Iowa. “Look at this.” She pointed to the headline: “Make a Choice of an Orphan—Fourteen Bright-Faced Children Craving a Mother and Father’s Love.”

  “Has Vern changed his mind?” Liddie asked.

  “No. I thought you and I could go. Just to see some children get homes. That’s all
.”

  Liddie was skeptical. Why would Minnie taunt herself by going to see children she couldn’t have?

  “Please? We’ll get a soda after.”

  For the first time in weeks, Liddie saw light in Minnie’s eyes, and agreed.

  A week later, standing in front of the Congregational church, Liddie stopped Minnie with a hand on her forearm. “Are you sure you want to go in?”

  “Why not?”

  Because it’s perverse, that’s why, Liddie thought as she looked down at her own baby sleeping soundly in her arms. For Minnie to see so many children who wanted homes and know none of them could ever be hers.

  “Why don’t we skip this and go to the drugstore now?” Liddie turned to walk away.

  Minnie gripped her arm. “I may never be lucky like you, but it will be a comfort to know those children are finding homes.”

  Minnie’s overly bright smile did not fool Liddie, but she resigned herself to the day.

  The sanctuary was crowded. From what they’d read in the paper, thousands of children—orphaned or abandoned, reduced to begging or stealing or actions too horrific to even contemplate—ranging in age from infant to teenage were being rescued from New York streets by the Children’s Aid Society and sent on trains to rural areas to be adopted. Mrs. Wilstock, an agent traveling with the children, would be supervising the adoptions.

  As they entered, they overheard two farmers, who were standing inside the door, talking.

  “You get some good work out of these boys if you know how to handle ’em,” said a wiry, dark-haired man.

  “Amos Larkin took one,” related a burly, ruddy-faced farmer. “Said the boy was worthless. Couldn’t get a cent of work outta him. Kept runnin’ off.”

  “If Larkin handled that boy like he handles his horses, don’t know as how I’d work for him, either,” the smaller man responded.

  Liddie and Minnie exchanged glances. Minnie’s eyebrows were arched in horror. As Liddie steered her toward a pew, she thought of Joe. She’d never thought about how hard it might have been for him to come live with them after his parents died.

  “I’ve heard that Mrs. Wilstock takes good care of the children,” said a woman sitting in the pew behind them.

  “I heard it’s not as up-and-up as they like to say.” Another woman sniffed. “I heard she’ll place the children wherever she can so she doesn’t have to take them back to New York.”

  Liddie saw color rise in Minnie’s cheeks as she twisted her hankie in a knot. “Don’t pay them any mind,” she whispered.

  Minnie shook her head. She wrenched the hankie harder.

  “Probably can’t have children of her own,” the skeptic added with a brittle laugh.

  Minnie’s cheeks flamed. She swung around in the pew and glared at the woman. “How dare you talk. You don’t know anything. Mrs. Wilstock is an angel. These children have no prospects, and she makes sure they have homes. Whether she has children or not is none of your business . . . you . . . old . . . biddies!”

  The mouths of the two women formed circles; their intake of breath was audible. Collecting their handbags and umbrellas, they made a show of moving to the other side of the church.

  “Good for you, Minnie. That’s telling them.” Liddie muffled her laughter behind her hand. “I’m sure Mrs. Wilstock would be happy she has a defender.”

  “How could they?” Minnie raged.

  “Nothing better to do than talk, I’m sure.” Seeing such spunk in Minnie was an honest relief. “Look. Look.” She grasped Minnie’s hand. “Here they are.”

  The room fell silent as a woman Liddie presumed was Mrs. Wilstock led thirteen children—each child holding the hand of the next one in line—to stand in front of the altar. Each boy was dressed in a wool suit, white shirt, and black shoes. Each girl—her hair bobbed and adorned with a ribbon—wore a plain dress. The agent held a fourteenth child, a baby, in her arms.

  “Oh, aren’t they sweet!” breathed Minnie.

  “Look at the boy on the left.” Liddie gestured toward a lad with a shock of unruly oat-colored hair. Maybe ten years old, the boy stood stiff as a soldier, his eyes focused above and behind the congregation. “He’s trying to seem so strong.”

  The agent had each child step forward to sing a song, recite a poem, or say what they hoped for in a home or family. After the older children were introduced, the agent folded back the blanket in her arms to reveal a sleeping baby whose coal-black hair and translucent skin made her look like a china doll. “Her name is Pearl,” she said. “She’s six months old.”

  “She’s so tiny,” Minnie whispered. “How can she be six months old?”

  Liddie shook her head. “I wonder if she’s had enough to eat.” Liddie looked down at Rose’s plump face. Though Rose was less than two months old, judging from their sizes, the two babies could have been the same age. She touched Rose’s lips with a fingertip, triggering the little sucking motions she made even in her sleep.

  With all the children presented, the agent invited those interested in adopting to meet the children individually.

  A rough-looking farmer took the oat-haired boy aside, felt his arms, slapped him on the back, and checked out his teeth.

  Liddie’s mouth dropped open. “It’s like he’s buying a horse. I can’t stay for this.” She took Minnie’s hand to pull her from the pew.

  Minnie didn’t budge. “Look there.” She pointed to a couple talking to a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl of about six who barely raised her head. “I know them. Their daughter died of the influenza. It nearly broke their hearts.”

  The couple talked with the child for several minutes. Liddie heard the woman ask, “Do you want to be our daughter?” When the girl broke into a smile that revealed missing teeth and leaped into the woman’s arms, tears welled in Liddie’s eyes.

  But Minnie was now focused on Mrs. Wilstock. “I’m going to see the baby,” she said.

  “Don’t.” Liddie put a hand on Minnie’s arm. “Don’t make it harder for yourself.”

  Minnie shook off her hand. “One look won’t hurt. Before someone takes her.” She approached Mrs. Wilstock before Liddie could protest again.

  “May I hold her?” she asked, her voice firm.

  “Of course,” the agent said. “She’s a precious one. Very alert.”

  Cradling the bundle in her arms, Minnie gently folded the blanket back from the baby’s face. When she trailed her index finger along the infant’s cheek, the little girl woke.

  “Why, Pearl. Aren’t you the most beautiful thing,” Minnie cooed. A smile formed on the infant’s tiny bow-shaped mouth. She reached up as though she had wakened to see Minnie’s face every day of her life.

  “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Minnie looked at Liddie.

  The happiness in Minnie’s eyes made Liddie’s heart ache. “She is pretty.” She touched Minnie’s elbow. “Remember. You were just going to look.”

  Minnie hummed an Irish lullaby as she moved to a quiet corner.

  Liddie followed, speaking urgently. “Minnie. You’re only hurting yourself.”

  Minnie ignored her.

  After a short time, Mrs. Wilstock joined them. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? With her black hair, she looks very like you,” she said to Minnie. The agent’s comments were no doubt intended to present the baby in the best possible way, but it was unnecessary. Minnie was smitten.

  “How does this work?” Minnie asked. “Surely people simply don’t walk out of here with a child.”

  “Some do.” The agent nodded. “If the husband and wife agree. Others go home to talk it over. We’re here for several days, so people have time to think it through. We want the best for the children and the adoptive families.” Mrs. Wilstock glanced around. “Is your husband here?”

  Minnie sat at the end of a pew and bounced Pearl lightly on her lap, causing
the baby to giggle. She ignored Mrs. Wilstock’s question. “What happens if a child isn’t adopted?” Minnie asked.

  “We take them to another town.”

  The idea of children put on display time after time horrified Liddie. To lose their parents, to get their hopes up for a new family, and then to be passed over. The feeling of rejection weighed like a boulder on her heart. Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on Rose.

  “We do our best to place the children in the right homes,” the agent said.

  Liddie touched Mrs. Wilstock’s arm. “Would you give us a moment, please?”

  The woman nodded, stepping away as Liddie sat down.

  Before Liddie spoke, Minnie whispered, “I can’t let her go.”

  “They will be here for a few days,” Liddie reasoned. “You can talk with Vern tonight and come back tomorrow.”

  “Vern won’t come to see her. He’ll say no.” Minnie counted on her fingers. “If Pearl is six months old, she must have been born around April. Won’t it be nice? The girls can grow up together!”

  Liddie would not be distracted. “You can’t adopt a baby without talking to your husband.”

  “He’ll love her once he sees her. How could he not?” Minnie planted kisses on top of Pearl’s head.

  Liddie opened her mouth, then closed it. The idea that Minnie would take a baby without Vern’s agreement was astounding.

  “Besides, I can’t leave Pearl here.” Minnie pronounced “here” as though the Congregational church were the gates of hell.

  “You need to at least try to talk to Vern. Mrs. Wilstock will take care of the baby.” She nodded to the agent, who stood a few feet away, watching. Liddie did not call the infant by name. A name made the child real, and she wasn’t going to encourage Minnie in any way.

  Minnie stood up, the glint in her eyes fierce. “Pearl is coming home. With me.”

  “Can she do that?” Liddie asked the agent.

  Mrs. Wilstock studied Minnie with Pearl.

  “My husband wasn’t able to be here today.” Minnie smiled innocently. “You can see how happy Pearl is in our home when you visit us.”