The Girl in the Torch

by Robert Sharenow

  “He is?”

  “Come out here, Mr. Duffy.”

  Sarah heard a small growl from beside Tommy.

  “It’s okay, boy,” Tommy said.

  Sarah edged back in surprise as the face of a small mutt popped up from the newspapers beside Tommy and growled at her. He had ragged black hair, with some white around his muzzle, eyes, and on his feet that made him look like he was wearing socks.

  “Just let him smell your hand,” Tommy said to Sarah.

  Sarah extended her hand to the dog, and he gave it a suspicious sniff and then gently licked the backs of her knuckles. Maryk’s horseback riding lesson echoed in her head, and she wished that she had a scrap of food to really win him over.

  “That’s a good boy,” Tommy said.

  Sarah petted the dog’s head. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “I don’t like nobody worrying about me,” he said. “And Mr. Duffy and I take care of each other. Isn’t that right, boy?”

  The little dog nuzzled next to Tommy.

  “How long have you been sleeping here?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “A year. Maybe more. Since my dad died.”

  “Didn’t you say there were rooming houses for boys?”

  “I tried staying in one of those places. But my first night a couple of older boys roughed me up and took all my money. I’m better off out here with Mr. Duffy.”

  “Maybe if we work together, we could afford to stay in a better place,” said Sarah. “Somewhere safe.”

  “I’d like that,” he said.

  The idea of the partnership sparked new hope in Sarah. Maybe it really would help both of them.

  “Let’s get a good night’s sleep and start fresh in the morning as a team,” she said.

  She took some papers from the pile and laid under them beside him.

  Thunder cracked overhead and the rain fell harder, trickling through the cracks of the crate. Mr. Duffy ducked under the newspapers at the sound of the storm.

  “Mr. Duffy hates the thunder,” Tommy said. “So do I.”

  “Do you think he’d like to meet my friend Ivan?”

  “Ivan?”

  She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out her toy bear, and placed him beside Mr. Duffy.

  “This is Ivan. He used to work at a Russian circus before I owned him. He comes from a long line of dancing bears.”

  “Do dogs and bears get along?” Tommy asked.

  “Sure they do,” Sarah said. “And Ivan can do all sorts of tricks. Look.”

  Sarah perched Ivan up on his hind legs and then made him dance in a circle like her father used to do. Mr. Duffy cocked his head and watched with a curious growl. Tommy managed a small smile until there was another loud crack of thunder. Mr. Duffy retreated back under the papers.

  “It’s hard to sleep with all the noise from the storm,” Tommy said.

  “When there was thunder back home, my mother always told me to just sing a song in my head to block it out,” she said, feeling an ache of sadness.

  “I don’t know any songs.”

  “None?”

  “Well. No one ever taught me any well enough to remember.”

  Sarah recalled a lullaby her mother used to sing her when she was a little girl. And the song just came out naturally as if it were her mother’s voice singing from inside her body. For the first time, Sarah realized how much her voice was starting to sound like her mother’s.

  Sleep next to the sun,

  Safely tucked away.

  Keep each other warm

  Until the break of day.

  The moon and stars above

  Are hiding skies of blue,

  So never ever doubt

  Your mama’s love for you.

  No never ever doubt

  Your mama’s love for you.

  Sarah’s heart ached to think of her mother, to sing her words and her melody. But remembering also gave her strength. She finished the song and waited for Tommy’s reaction. After a moment, she realized that he had fallen asleep. She placed Ivan beside her, spread a few more pages of newspaper over herself, tucked her head under her arm, and closed her eyes.

  Girl Newsie

  CRASH!

  Sarah was startled awake by the screeching noise of metal against stone.

  Another crash, and Sarah threw off the newspapers and stepped out of the box. She immediately saw a couple of garbagemen lifting and emptying the trash cans from the alley into a large cart being pulled by a donkey. One of the men saw her and laughed.

  “Sorry we woke you, princess,” he said as he tossed a trash can back into the alley.

  The other man whipped the donkey on the rear with a small riding crop, and the cart moved on. Sarah stepped out of the alley and onto the street. A bright sun shone in a clear blue sky. She stretched her arms over her head and worked the kinks out of her neck.

  Her stomach groaned with hunger. It had been a full day since her last meal. She went back over to the crate and knocked on the top.

  “Time to wake up,” she said.

  Mr. Duffy stuck his head out of the opening, stared up at Sarah, and growled.

  “You’re quite a watchdog, I see,” she said. “Come on, Tommy. Let’s go make some money to buy ourselves breakfast.”

  Tommy crawled out of the crate and yawned.

  “You’ve got a deal.”

  As she watched him, Sarah got an idea.

  “May I borrow your hat?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  He handed her his floppy wool cap, and she placed it on her head, carefully tucking most of her thick red hair beneath it.

  “It would probably be better if I didn’t stand out so much.”

  Once her hair was neatly arranged beneath the hat, Sarah and Tommy headed out of the alley and Mr. Duffy moved to follow them.

  “No, boy,” he said to the dog. “You stay. Someone’s gotta guard the crate.”

  The dog whimpered but returned inside.

  They walked east a few blocks until they turned down a wide alley at the back of an industrial building. Several large wagons were parked beside the loading dock stacked with freshly printed newspapers. Two men sat behind a desk with a ledger, doling out newspapers. Dozens of newsies crowded around and waited in a long line to pick up their loads. A few of the other newsies greeted Tommy as they joined the line.

  “Who’s your girlfriend?”

  “She’s a tall one.”

  “Maybe she’s his mother!”

  “Aw, shut up,” Tommy said. “She’s my cousin. And she’s just working with me.”

  “Don’t you know there ain’t no such thing as a girl newsie?” an older boy said with disdain. A few others around him nodded their heads in agreement.

  “Well there is now,” Tommy snapped. “And if anyone says another word about her, they’re gonna answer to me.”

  “Oh, we’re real scared, Tommy,” one of them said.

  “Don’t mind them,” Tommy said to Sarah. “They’re just jealous.”

  They finally made their way to the front.

  “Give me thirty-five,” he said.

  “Thirty-five?” the dispatcher said. “You usually only take twenty.”

  “Got some help today,” he said.

  Tommy handed the man some coins, and the man counted out a stack of papers and handed them over.

  Sarah glanced down at the paper and gasped when she saw the front page.

  The headline read:

  CHINATOWN HUMAN SLAVE RING BUSTED!

  Staring up at Sarah were large photographs of Maryk and Mrs. Lee.

  Headlines

  SARAH GRABBED A PAPER. In the photo Maryk and Mrs. Lee looked disoriented, as if someone had pushed them against a wall to have the picture taken.

  “What’s the matter, Red?” asked Tommy.

  “Hey, get out of the way,” one of the other newsies said.

  “Yeah, move it along.”

  Tommy shoved his stac
k of papers into his bag and then pushed Sarah along, away from the other boys.

  She moved to a corner of the alley away from the newsies.

  “Sarah?”

  “These are my friends,” she said, gesturing to the photo.

  Tommy grabbed his own paper, and they both read the story.

  CHINATOWN HUMAN SLAVE RING BUSTED!

  In a daring afternoon raid on Tuesday, the police stormed a building in Chinatown and arrested the owner, Mrs. Bai Lee, along with one of her boarders, Stephen Maryk, and four Chinese girls on suspicion of running a slave ring, in which immigrant girls were used for forced labor or other immoral purposes. Both Maryk, a security guard at the Statue of Liberty, and Lee, the owner of the building, were charged.

  “We were tipped off by a source at Maryk’s place of employment that he may have been smuggling immigrant girls,” arresting officer James Callahan commented. According to the source, the man has a severe drinking problem and had previously been suspended from the job at least once.

  As for Lee, she could not explain why four single girls were all living in her building, except to say that she “runs a clean house” and “only wanted to help girls from [her] country.” Maryk and Lee deny the charges.

  The suspects are being held in the New York House of Detention and will be arraigned tomorrow in New York Criminal Court. Another suspect fled the scene during the raid. Authorities are still looking for the girl, who is described as tall, thin, red-haired, approximately thirteen or fourteen years old. The police are seeking any information leading to the girl’s whereabouts. She may also be wanted in connection with other criminal activities.

  Tommy looked up at Sarah.

  “The tall, thin redhead is you?”

  Sarah nodded. She looked around and noticed several of the boys also reading the front page, absorbing all the news so they could shout out the best headlines to draw customers. One of the newsies looked up from reading the article on the front page and squinted at her. He nudged his friend and pointed at the paper and then Sarah.

  Sarah lowered her head and hurried away.

  Tommy struggled to catch up with her under the weight of the bag. “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I just have to go.”

  “Hold on,” he said, trying to grab her arm. She pulled away.

  “No,” she said. “Don’t you understand? I can’t stay with you, Tommy, or you’ll get arrested too.”

  Sarah moved out of the alley. Tommy started after her.

  “Sarah! Wait!”

  She turned and forcefully held him back by the shoulders.

  “Leave me alone,” she said. “Just take care of yourself.”

  Sarah turned and ran. Tommy didn’t follow.

  Reaching the End

  SARAH RAN FOR SEVERAL blocks, still gripping the paper in her hand. Finally she found a quiet street and sat on a stoop to catch her breath. She read and reread the article several times, letting it sink in. Maryk, Mrs. Lee, and the girls might be going to jail, all because of her. They had been strangers, but they’d offered her shelter and kindness.

  Sarah felt weighed down by guilt. If she turned herself in, it didn’t seem likely that anyone would believe her story—she would just be sent back to her country or arrested too. The newspaper article mentioned that she might be involved in other criminal activities. Could they have possibly found out that she had stolen the egg? In addition to everything else, she was now a thief. She also worried that she had already gotten Tommy into some sort of trouble just for being seen with her.

  She wracked her brain for some plan, staring at the sad images of Maryk and Mrs. Lee on the front page. In the back of her mind, she had held on to some slim hope that she could resume her life with them. Living in Chinatown was completely unlike the way she had lived at home, but she had grown to feel comfortable there. Now, everything looked bleak and hopeless.

  Two police officers wandered down the street toward where Sarah was sitting, absently twirling their nightsticks and talking with each other. Sarah ducked her head down, shielding herself from their view. She watched them walk by and then moved off in the opposite direction.

  She turned down side streets and alleys, not really sure where she was heading, just fleeing from where she had been. Sarah couldn’t think of a single place to go, so she kept moving, farther down and around the twisting streets of lower Manhattan. She felt invisible among the crowds of people bustling by her, all with a purpose and a destination except her. Finally, she came to the southwestern edge of the city and recognized the grassy park that abutted the docks along the water of New York Harbor. She spied something shining in the grass by a bench.

  As she approached, she discovered a quarter half stuck in the ground. She picked up the coin and placed it in her pocket. At least she could buy herself a hot meal.

  She walked along the dock farther south, transfixed as the familiar statue of the Lady came into view shimmering in the distance. Sarah paused and felt her limbs go limp as all the energy drained from her body. The words of the poem rang through her mind: “. . . from her beacon-hand / Glows world-wide welcome. . . .”

  She thought of how the Lady had been a beacon for her and her family, drawing them to America. As she stared at the torch, an idea came to her.

  I have to find a way to make people listen to me.

  She couldn’t run and hide anymore, so she needed to become more visible, to do something to make everyone pay attention to her so she could tell her story and save her friends. If she just let herself disappear or get arrested, no one would care or listen to her. She had to make sure Maryk and Mrs. Lee wouldn’t be punished for trying to help her.

  She gripped the quarter in her hand and decided that she would use it not to buy food, but for one last ferry ride.

  Return to the Lady

  SARAH REMOVED TOMMY’S CAP and let the wind sweep back her hair as she stood on the top deck of the ferry that steamed toward the Statue of Liberty. The morning was crisp and clear, with only a few billowy white clouds drifting across the deep blue sky. With the ferry just a few hundred yards away, she could see scores of tourists milling around the statue. Although it had been a couple of weeks since she left the island, she felt as if she had been away for a lifetime.

  The boat moored at the dock, and as Sarah stepped onto the island, she took a deep breath of the cool ocean air coming in off the harbor. Roaming the familiar grounds, Sarah felt as if she had come back home. She stopped at the foot of the tree she had hidden in all those nights, then stared at Ellis Island in the distance and the choppy stretch of harbor that separated it from the Lady’s island, her mind flashing back to her leap from the ship and swim to safety.

  Finally, she moved to the base of the statue and stared up at the Lady and her strong, welcoming face. She thought of the worn postcard she had carried from their village, the first time she and her mother had set eyes on the real thing, and how beautiful she was, and then all the nights she had spent sleeping inside her.

  Mother of Exiles, Sarah thought.

  Although she hadn’t planned to return, she understood that this was her opportunity to say good-bye, to end her journey where it had begun and hopefully help her friends in the process.

  She took a deep breath and entered the base. Dozens of people moved up and down the stairwell, their voices echoing in the enormous cavity. She pushed on, higher and higher, until she reached the ladder leading to the torch and climbed up.

  Emerging onto the exterior walkway of the torch, she leaned against the railing to catch her breath, sucking the cool salt air into her exhausted lungs and staring out to sea. She remembered watching Maryk do the same all those nights from her hiding spot in the tree. As the waves cascaded into each other and against the shore below, she wondered what Maryk had been staring at all those nights and what he had seen or hoped to see.

  Sarah removed Ivan from her pocket and held him up on the railing. She remembered
their nights sleeping in the crown, when it had started to feel like her private bedroom. Back then she had felt a sense of adventure and some hope about the future. Now even the Lady felt like a dead end. She looked at Ivan, but she didn’t feel like talking to him anymore. He was only a piece of carved wood. She thought about throwing him out into the sea, and even dangled him over the edge, but then pulled her hand back and shoved him into her pocket.

  Her mind flooded with everything that had been lost. Her parents, Maryk’s wife and child, Bao Yu’s father, and all the others from her village and other villages all over the world who had never made it this far.

  She spent the afternoon just standing on the torch as tourists came and went to admire the view. No one seemed to notice her. It was as if she didn’t exist. Finally the sun began to set over the horizon, a fiery orange ball slowly dimming the sky. She heard the bell ring, announcing the final ferry, and saw the guards encouraging people to make their way toward the dock.

  All the other people exited the torch, climbing down the ladder, joining the others who had been in the crown room. But Sarah didn’t move.

  Eventually the final tourists emerged from the exit at the base of the statue. Two security guards roamed the grounds and made their way toward the entrance of the Lady to make one final sweep. She heard their footsteps getting steadily closer until one of them emerged onto the platform of the torch—a young man with a neatly trimmed black mustache. He regarded her in surprise.

  “Miss, what are you doing here?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Didn’t you hear the bell? The last ferry is leaving. I need you to come down now.”

  Still, Sarah did not reply.

  “Miss? Are you all right?”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not leaving until I talk to a newspaper reporter.”

  “A newspaper reporter?” he said, his brow furrowed with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  A moment later, the other security guard emerged onto the platform.

  “What’s taking you so long, Charlie?”