“But what if this is it?” Mary replied, then she turned to Jack. “What if we get separated and I never see you again? No one ever promised they’d keep brothers and sisters together. This is the first time I’ve seen you in three years. Why would they think twice about separating us now?”
Edward nudged the brim of his cap upward and glanced sideways at his brother, but Cecil was scowling at his hands. The only one in their little group without a family member was Winny, and she kept her eyes resolutely on the horizon.
Jack reached out and touched the name tag dangling from his sister’s coat. “We’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“I guess we’ll find out soon,” Winny said, pointing into the distance.
A dark shape appeared out of the fog like a spectre, growing in size and coming into focus. As they sailed closer, the terminal emerged from the gloom, a long barrier of two-storey buildings alongside a number of docks, jutting out into the sea like long, flat tongues. Smaller fishing boats were hitched here and there, and two larger ships steamed past theirs at a safe distance, going the opposite direction. Theirs was the only big ship docking, and the captain steered the massive bow alongside the dock with surprising grace.
The pier itself was crowded with travellers, creating a moving obstacle course for the working men and wagons loaded down with crates. Despite the crowds, Jack was disappointed. Somehow he’d imagined Canada would be more exciting, that they’d be met by cowboys or mounted police or something equally impressive. From what he could see, there was nothing remarkable about this pier. It was even smaller than the one they’d left two weeks before, and the stink of dead fish was just as bad.
Below Jack, the sailors set expertly to their work, some of them carrying luggage while others secured the ship to the dock then extended the gangway to the passengers’ deck. Mr. Keller eventually appeared and directed the children toward it, shepherding the girls up first. Then, with his heart beating in his throat, Jack grabbed the banister and followed, heading to the terminal. Once inside, they were guided up a wide set of stairs to an assembly hall on the second floor, where they joined a long queue. Despite the weeks of travel and everyone’s exhaustion, the space buzzed with questions and speculations, and heads turned this way and that. From his vantage point, Jack could just see above the other children’s heads, and he spotted a number of desks and offices at the far end of the room. He turned to Mary to describe the scene just as Miss Pence held up her hands for quiet.
“Children, it is very important that we stay together here and not get separated. Mr. Keller and I will be watching, but there are more than a hundred of you and only two of us, so we shall need your help.”
“What’s this line for, Miss Pence?” a small voice in the crowd asked.
“When you reach the front of the line,” she explained, “you will each see the Canadian doctor, then you will meet with the immigration officer. After that, we will board a train and be on our way. Remember, you must stay together. This is a new country to you. It would be easy to get lost, and there are hazards here you know nothing about. Do you understand? All right. Stay together, and keep each other safe.”
The urge to flee the stuffy, unfamiliar space was gnawing at Jack. It felt too much like a trap. He scanned the crammed room, searching for a way to disappear into the crowds and dash through the doors into the open air. Cecil caught his eye and tilted his head towards the clearly marked exit, but Jack shook his head. He knew escape was impossible.
A ripple of movement started up behind the boys as a couple of men pushed by in a hurry, all elbows, and Jack shuffled out of the way. Up ahead, the girls weren’t so lucky. Set on their path, the men shoved Mary against Winny and the girls toppled sideways like dominoes. Jack reached out just in time to catch Winny, and Edward grabbed Mary’s arm, steadying her.
“You and Mary stay close,” Jack said into Winny’s ear, his heart beating wildly. If she had fallen in the crowd, he feared she would have been trampled. Winny gripped his arm, and Mary closed in on her other side, flanked by Edward and Cecil. It gave Jack a sense of security, seeing the five of them shoulder to shoulder again, despite the uncertainties before them.
The line inched forward then stopped again. Winny popped up, dancing on her toes.
“What’s happening? Where’s Miss Pence?”
“She’s here somewhere. She won’t leave without you.”
A woman standing just in front of them scowled over her shoulder at Winny. “Would you look at that,” she said to the woman beside her. “It’s those children. I’ve read about them in the newspaper. Had I known any of them would be here, I’d have made alternate travel plans.”
Jack stiffened.
“Careful not to touch them,” the other woman replied, placing a gloved hand on her friend’s elbow and turning her attention ahead. “You know what they say about these little gutter rats. They’re all diseased and contagious.”
“It’s a travesty,” the first went on. “Shame on England for dumping their garbage on us, and shame on our government for actually paying for it. Can you imagine? I read somewhere that there’s thousands of these creatures infesting the country now, and they’re degenerates, every one of them. Criminals. You just know the girls will all end up as prostitutes, if they’re not already.”
The air was suddenly thick, and a sick sense of dread tightened Jack’s throat. Crowds of strangers pressed in around him, staring at the children with a sort of horrified fascination, and he realized that once again, he was cornered.
They hadn’t been wanted in England, and they weren’t wanted here.
“Was she talking about me?” Winny asked softly.
“Don’t listen to them,” Mary said. “They don’t matter.”
Jack refused to let his fear show. The others needed him to be strong. He straightened and rolled back his shoulders, just as he had done that day in the market when the police had caught them. A desperate sense of courage wrapped itself around him like a suit of armour, and he forced it into his heart, hardening him against whatever was to come. Winny glanced at him for reassurance, and he gave her a nod.
“Mary’s right.”
When they finally reached the front of the line, a clerk took their information then directed them one at a time toward a doctor’s examination room, curtained off behind the clerk’s desk. Jack went first, head held high.
“Your name?” the doctor said. He was sitting at a small wooden desk, checking his paperwork. He wasn’t old. Perhaps thirty. His short brown hair was slicked back and he wore a buttoned white coat.
“Jack Miller.”
The doctor wrote something down on a card which lay on the desk in front of him, then he got to his feet. “You’re how old?”
“Sixteen.”
“Open wide, please.” He stuck a flat piece of wood on Jack’s tongue and peered inside. “Tonsils gone?”
“They took everyone’s out at the Home before we left.” That was something he preferred not to think about.
He tried not to flinch when the doctor peeled back his eyelid and aimed a tiny light at his eye before poking another thing into his ear. Apparently satisfied, he asked Jack to step on a platform so he could check his weight and height.
“You seem pretty healthy,” the doctor said, stamping the card and handing it to Jack. “Surprisingly strong compared to some of these other boys, actually. You should do just fine here.”
Jack looked down at the card. He couldn’t make out the doctor’s writing, but the stamp was clear as day. FIT FOR ENTRY, it said.
“Go through there,” the doctor said, indicating a curtain at the back of the examination room, “and give that card to the man at the second desk.”
Jack did as he was told, and the clerk marked something in his ledger before giving Jack a tired smile. His eyes looked very small behind his smudged spectacles.
“Welcome to Canada,” he said.
Canada. The word sent an unexpected thrill
through Jack. “Is it true you can pick gold off the streets here?”
“Gold?” The clerk scratched his chin. “I can’t say as that’s so. But it’s a nice place all the same.”
Jack hoped he was right. He had crossed the sea, and there was no going back now—even if he wasn’t wanted here. Canada was massive—he’d seen the map—and he couldn’t help but believe that a land that large had to have opportunities in it, possibilities he never could have imagined back in England. He would simply have to find them. Or create them.
“You passed?” he asked when Winny emerged.
“The doctor said I was underweight.” She wrinkled her nose. “I told him he should have seen me before.”
Mary joined her at Jack’s side and took in the crowd, her expression unreadable. She reminded him of a sphinx he’d seen in a book about Egypt. Hard and distant.
Once everyone had been cleared, Miss Pence guided them downstairs where Mr. Keller was waiting by a mountain of wooden trunks. Jack spotted his right away. On purpose, he’d hammered in a darker board back in the carpentry room, wanting to make it look different from the others. When it was time, the children were called up one by one to collect their own trunks. Only the four- and five-year-olds got away with leaving theirs in a wagon, which Mr. Keller paid a man to bring outside the terminal.
The fog had cleared while they’d been inside, and sunlight blinded them as they stepped through the door and onto a platform toward a waiting train. Before boarding, Miss Pence had them all stop, then she took out a piece of paper and announced that she would read a list of the children who would be staying in the area.
Jack froze. He’d seen some of the name tags, the ones that indicated those children would remain in the Halifax area, and though his said Jack Miller, Toronto, the realization that they were about to lose some of the party here still shocked him.
“I told you,” Mary whispered, clenching his hand. “They’re splitting the group up. It starts here.”
The children on the list were gathered to the side and put under the care of a woman they hadn’t seen before. They clung to each other, many of them crying, bewildered by the sight of their friends and siblings boarding the train to Toronto without them. All Jack could think was how glad he was that it wasn’t him standing there.
They climbed onto the train and Jack led the way down the aisle, claiming one of the booths halfway down the car. He and Edward swung the trunks onto the rack overhead, then they all sat. Winny and Mary claimed the seats across from Jack, and Edward and Cecil lounged in the booth ahead of them. When the train jarred forward, Jack closed his eyes, expecting the noise and the gentle rocking would lull him to sleep. His body was more than willing. It felt as if it was filled with stones, dragging him underwater. The trouble was, his mind kept bobbing to the surface, bubbling with questions.
What if Mary was right? What if they were separated? Of course he’d hate it, but maybe it would be all right. They’d survived being apart before, he reasoned. He cracked his eyes open, studying the girls as they slept, piled onto each other like kittens. He hated seeing the lines of exhaustion on his sister’s face, the way her brow seemed permanently creased with worry. She had always been so alive on the streets of London, unafraid and ready to take on the world. Back then, they’d been more than brother and sister; they’d been partners. She had always been the serious one, but she had been fun as well. Now she was guarded, suspicious of just about everyone. He missed her laugh—never mind that, he missed her smile. The years apart had taken their toll on her, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she could handle another separation.
What felt like hours later, Mr. Keller walked down the aisle, handing out sandwiches. “Next stop: Toronto,” he said. “We’ve a few hours to go, but this ought to hold you over.”
Mary and Winny were still sleeping soundlessly, so Jack collected their food as well.
“Don’t eat them all,” Mr. Keller warned.
“I wouldn’t.”
Jack leaned across and tucked the sandwiches under Mary’s coat, spread like a blanket over them both. He didn’t hate Mr. Keller, but the constant drone of his reminders and lessons, punctuated by glares, was like a rock in Jack’s shoe. He could go along without noticing for a while, then one would poke him the wrong way and he couldn’t get it out of his head.
Once Mr. Keller had moved on down the aisle, Cecil peered behind him at Jack. He and Edward had been talking quietly between themselves the whole trip, but Edward was asleep now, his head pressed against the window.
“If they don’t want it, I do.”
Jack gave him a wry smile. “You try to wrestle this out of their hands when they wake up. I’d bet on the girls.”
The sandwich was dry and tasteless, but it eased the cramping in his gut, and that’s all he really needed. Jack had known hunger his whole life. Until he’d ended up at the orphanage, he couldn’t recall a time when he and Mary weren’t sneaking or stealing food. Now food was provided to them, but despite what the Barnardo people said, Jack had never believed the children were being fed out of the goodness of these people’s hearts. Just as fuel turned the wheels of the train, food kept the children working. Sure, the lessons in tinsmithing and blacksmithing, carpentry, printing, brush making, tailoring, and boot making were valuable lessons for their futures, but where did the money from all those boots and brushes and coats go? Right back into Barnardo’s bank account. Barnardo’s fed the children, but the children fed them as well.
Jack gazed out the window, watching miles and miles of trees pass by, letting it sink in that he was here for at least another year. Whatever happened, he had to make the best of it. Mr. Keller had told the boys they would be in some kind of service until they were eighteen. They’d be paid a little for their labour until then, but they wouldn’t receive that money until they turned twenty-one. He’d said Barnardo’s was holding it “in trust,” whatever that meant. Jack didn’t know how much he’d get when the time came, but as long as he could make a start with it, the amount didn’t really matter. The important thing was that it would be the first honest money he had ever earned. And then, he’d be free to choose what he wanted to do.
* * *
The shrieking brakes jolted Jack awake, and he shot upright, briefly forgetting where he was. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes then peered into the night. Raindrops peppered the windows, glistening like gold as they reflected the city lights.
“We’re here,” Winny told him. She and Mary were sitting up. Sandwich crumbs littered their laps.
“We are indeed,” Mr. Keller said as he came down the aisles. “Welcome to Toronto, children. After the train has stopped, everyone is responsible for carrying his or her own trunk off the train and into Union Station. Stay close to one another. It’s a large building, and you won’t want to get lost.”
From the moment they stepped into Union Station, Jack’s attention was everywhere at once. “Large” didn’t come close to describing this place. From the clatter and screech of the trains, they entered a wide, open corridor, and their steps echoed as they walked across the shining marble floor. Following Mr. Keller upstairs, they arrived at a great hall dwarfed by an arched stone ceiling four storeys high. A vast window almost completely filled one wall.
“Imagine how bright it gets in here during the day,” Winny said beside him. “Look up there.”
High up on the walls and wrapping around the hall was a strip of stone etched with the names of various cities, and it struck Jack that he might soon be living in one of them. North Bay, he read. Sarnia, Sherbrooke, Toronto, Ottawa, then London! He pointed the last one out to Mr. Keller.
“How’s a train supposed to get from here to London?” he asked.
Mr. Keller glanced up at the stone then shook his head. “There are cities here named after cities in England. That’s all. You’ll see a lot of that.”
Beside him, Cecil hooted loudly in the open space, and the sound bounced through the building. Some of the ot
her boys followed suit, unable to resist the temptation. Mr. Keller picked up his pace but didn’t try to quiet them. Maybe, Jack thought, he was just as tired as the rest of them.
Outside, the streets glistened with rain, and the gentle mist reminded him of home. He picked up his pace, anticipation building.
“Where are we going?” someone finally asked.
“To Northwold,” Miss Pence said, rain dripping from the edges of her hat. “Dr. Barnardo’s head office and receiving home. It’s not far.”
As they walked, Winny caught up to Jack, lugging her trunk like everyone else. “What do you think of this place?”
“It looks real interesting. I’d like to see it in the daylight. See, look there.” He pointed at a shoe store across the street. “I wasn’t bad at boot making back at Stepney. Bet I could do pretty good as a cobbler, stitching boots for rich folks’ feet.”
From the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the littlest girls shivering, her body drooping badly from exhaustion. He stopped and handed Winny his trunk. “Hold this, would you?”
With his hands free, he crouched by the little girl. “Climb up here, pet.”
She didn’t hesitate, and when she was comfortably perched on Jack’s back, he picked up her trunk as well. Just up ahead, Cecil did the same for another little one.
“I’ll take my trunk now, Winny.”
“It’s all right,” she said. “I can carry it a while. Let me help you for a change.” She studied the wide streets around them with their shops and houses, windows darkened for the night. “Do you think we’ll get to stay here?”
“I wish I knew.”
Behind him, he heard Edward speaking to Mary in a low voice. “I’ve been thinking, Mary. I’ve a thing to say to you, and if this… if it’s true that we don’t have a lot of time left together, I figure I should just go ahead and say it. You might laugh, but that’s all right.” He sniffed. “The thing is, I fancy you, Mary. Always have.”
The Forgotten Home Child Page 5
