Maggie's War

by Terrie Todd

  “That’s fine, we’re not here to catch a train,” Reuben explained. “Possibly to meet one, though. We’re looking for a young woman who may have come through here today.”

  “You her parents or what?”

  Maggie jumped in. “Guardians.” She wished Reuben had worn his clerical collar. It might give them more credibility. “A blond girl, seventeen years old and pregnant. Her ticket was from Winnipeg to Petawawa.”

  “That train went through, all right. This morning. Won’t be another one ’til Friday. What’s that smell?”

  “Sorry, we had a little run-in with a skunk,” Reuben apologized. “Do you happen to know if she might have gotten off here?”

  “Why would she do that if her ticket was for Petawawa?” The man leaned forward, as though he hoped for a piece of juicy gossip worth passing along.

  “Just a hunch,” Reuben said.

  “Seems like a pretty silly hunch to me.” The man leaned back again and flicked through the stack of tickets in his hand, licking his finger about every fifth one.

  “We weren’t asking for your opinion. Did you see the girl or not?” Maggie’s foot tapped on the marble floor.

  “Maggie,” Reuben said quietly. This ticket vendor might be their only lead to Charlotte. There was no point in provoking him.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Look, I only came on duty at six o’clock tonight. Barney Lyall is the one you want to talk to. He would’ve been here when that train came through.”

  “Where can we find him?” Maggie asked.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go bothering Barney this time of night if I were you. He’s gotta be up by four in the morning to feed his chickens and goats before he comes to work at six. He can be a real bear.”

  Reuben looked up at the big clock behind the man. It was after midnight. Somewhere along the route, they’d crossed into a different time zone, and it was even later than he’d thought.

  “He’ll be here at six sharp, though. Always is. You’re welcome to wait, just as long as you sit as far away from me as you can git.” The man gestured to the hard wooden benches and returned to his ticket flicking.

  Reuben looked at Maggie. She looked at the benches, then back at Reuben.

  “Guess we gotta rest sometime,” she said and shrugged. “But what if she’s still on the train? We might be wasting precious time.”

  “She’s not on the train anymore.” Reuben moved to the farthest bench and sat down.

  Maggie followed. “Then why isn’t she here? Where would she go?”

  “I don’t know. Does she know anyone here?”

  “I have no idea. Possibly. But how can you be so sure she got off here?” Maggie sat on a bench across from Reuben, a low table covered with newspapers between them. The headline on the top one read “Fed Judge Upholds Detention of Japanese-Canadians.”

  When Reuben only sighed, Maggie asked the question he’d dreaded.

  “These dreams of yours. Tell me how they work.”

  Reuben leaned in closer, and Maggie followed suit. “I wish I could. I don’t really know how they work, and they don’t always happen the same way. But I can tell you about one, just as an example.”

  “It’s about time.” Maggie pulled her shoes off and dropped them on the floor. Then she pulled her feet up onto the bench and rubbed them. “I’m all ears.”

  Reuben looked around. He’d never shared this with anyone before. If Maggie decided he was a lunatic after this, it was going to be a long trip home.

  “The first time it happened, I was twelve. My father had helped me build a tree house in our backyard, and I used to spend my summer afternoons up there, after chores were done. Sometimes my buddy Clarence Kalbright joined me, and we had all kinds of adventures. But this time I was alone, reading and daydreaming. I fell asleep.”

  Reuben sighed again. How to describe it? There were no words. “I don’t know exactly what happened. I don’t remember seeing anything specific in my dream. Possibly a light, a bright and colorful light. But somehow, that description seems inadequate. And if I heard anything at all, it was instructions to go to the brown house on the corner, two blocks away—though I don’t remember hearing anything, exactly. When I woke up, I just knew that’s what I had to do. I could see the house in my mind.”

  “Who lived there?”

  “I didn’t even know. It had been vacant quite some time, but we had noticed a new family moving in a week or so before. We hadn’t met them. I climbed down from the tree house and walked the two blocks. When I first saw the brown house, nothing looked unusual, and I was tempted to turn around and go home.”

  Maggie’s eyes were focused intently on Reuben’s, shining in spite of her fatigue. “I’m guessing you didn’t.”

  “I did turn around, actually. But the compulsion was so strong. I thought I could never live with myself if I didn’t check further, even though I felt as silly as all get-out. So I went back and opened the gate and headed up the sidewalk to the front door. I was about to knock, when I heard something around the side of the house.”

  Reuben brushed his fingers through his hair. He leaned his elbows on his knees and looked down at his feet. “When I went around to the side of the house, I discovered a pile of collapsed boards. I pulled some of them away and discovered an old well. From where I stood I could hear whimpering. At first I thought it might be a puppy, but then I heard Mommy coming faintly from below. My heart was racing, I can tell you. It was too dark in the well to see the child, but I figured it couldn’t be that deep if I could hear him whimper. I yelled for help as loud as I could, then started to climb down the well, bracing myself on both sides. Not the smartest move, in retrospect.”

  “Well, you were just a kid yourself.” Maggie’s eyes were wide.

  “I was able to reach the child easily enough,” Reuben said. “He’d landed on a ledge of some sort. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell if he was hurt, but I stayed on the ledge and talked to him. He was only about two years old, I think. Thankfully, his mother had heard my cry for help and appeared at the top of the well.

  “Long story short, I waited down there with the little guy until they could let down rescue ropes and pull him up, then me.”

  “So you’re a hero.” Maggie grinned.

  “My father asked later how I happened to be walking past the brown house that afternoon, but I just shrugged. ‘The Lord led him there, of course,’ my mother said. ‘And I pray every day that he will lead you, always.’ Guess that sounds kinda corny. It made an impact on me, though.”

  “I don’t think it’s corny. I’m glad you told me.”

  Reuben could see the sincerity in Maggie’s eyes and sighed with relief.

  “Me too. Now I think we’d better try and get some sleep.” Reuben wadded up his jacket and tucked it under his head as he lay down on the bench. He was just dozing off when Maggie asked one more question.

  “Any idea whatever happened to that kid?”

  Reuben smiled up at the ceiling. “He’s twenty-three years old now and already a captain in the Royal Canadian Air Force.”

  “Dropping bombs on the bad guys?”

  “His mother promised to let me know the minute he gets home.”

  With that, the conversation ceased. But even through his sleep, Reuben remained intensely aware of the woman who lay only a few feet away.

  CHAPTER 16

  Bright sunshine hit Maggie directly in the eyes at the same moment she realized every one of her joints and muscles was aching. The night had brought little rest, and when she had slept she dreamed she was on a merry-go-round at the carnival. She could see a girl on a pony up ahead and felt desperate to reach her, but no matter how hard she tried to hurry her horse, she always stayed the same distance behind. Whether the girl was Charlotte or Maggie’s old friend Susan wasn’t clear.

  The big clock in the lobby said 5:45. Soon the ticket-counter clerk who might have seen Charlotte would be in. Maggie sat up and looked around. She saw only
one other passenger, a man who looked like a traveling salesman or possibly a politician. She carried her bag with her to the ladies’ room and freshened up the best she could. She gave her spare clothes a good sniff and was relieved to detect no whiff of skunk.

  When she returned to her bench, Reuben was gone. She went out to the car and saw him walking toward her with two paper cups and a brown bag.

  “’Morning.” He held out a cup toward her. “Coffee.”

  As they sat on a bench on the platform Reuben opened the bag and took out a muffin that he gave to Maggie. It looked like a feast to her, and she’d devoured it before Reuben had his half-eaten.

  “Should I have brought you two?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Maggie felt sheepish as she brushed the crumbs off her skirt. “Well, we did skip supper last night. You suppose that’s the guy with the chickens and goats?” She nodded toward a man who approached the side door of the station, wearing the same CP Rail uniform the ticket seller wore.

  “Barney Lyall?” Reuben said to her.

  “You’ve got a good memory for names.”

  “Hazard of the occupation.”

  “Speaking of that, you got one of those fancy collars in your bag? Might come in handy on this little mission.” Maggie stood. “I’m going in to find out if Mr. Lyall saw Charlotte yesterday.”

  Inside, the traveling salesman was already in line at the window, and Maggie fell in behind him. By the time it was Maggie’s turn, Reuben was behind her, a clerical collar neatly in place. She grinned.

  “Where to?” the agent asked.

  “We’re looking for someone,” Maggie answered. “Why don’t you tell him, Reverend?” She nodded toward Reuben. Might as well gain whatever advantage the collar might afford.

  Reuben stepped forward and explained the situation in a much more serene fashion than Maggie would have. She kept her eyes on the ticket seller’s. She’d hung around Douglas and his friends enough that she could usually tell when someone was hedging.

  “Pregnant, you say? Yeah, she came through all right. I’d venture to guess she’s not pregnant anymore, though. It was quite the hoo-ha around here when that train pulled in.”

  “What do you mean?” Maggie’s determination to stay quiet was short-lived.

  “The conductor wired ahead for us to have an ambulance waiting for a woman on board who was in labor.”

  Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “I called right over to McKellar Hospital, and they had a car here in no time. It’s just up the street, you know.” He pointed with his thumb, like a hitchhiker.

  “Is that where they took her?” Reuben asked.

  “I suspect so. I haven’t heard any more about it.”

  “Thank you,” Reuben said. “You’ve been very helpful.” He turned to go.

  “Wait,” Maggie said. “This woman in labor. Was she a blonde? Young?”

  “I didn’t really get a good look, ma’am. They took her on a stretcher.”

  Reuben thanked the man, and he and Maggie headed toward the door.

  “And tell her the rest of her ticket is good for thirty days if she wants to carry on to Petawawa,” the man called after them as the door swung slowly closed. “Babes in arms travel free.”

  Spurred to action by the man’s words, they ran for Reuben’s car. He started it and Maggie jumped in on the passenger side.

  “Oh, that poor girl. What are the odds of a baby this early making it?” Maggie rubbed her forehead.

  “I don’t know. Maybe better than you’d think.” Reuben backed out and pointed his car in the direction the man had indicated. “I was premature myself. Do you see anything that looks like a hospital?”

  Just a few blocks down, Maggie spotted a three-story building, one side decked with wide porches on the first and second floors. “McKellar General Hospital,” she read aloud. “Let’s pray she’s here.”

  Reuben took her literally. After finding a spot in the parking lot, he turned off the engine and bowed his head. “Lord, you’ve brought us this far. Please help us to locate Charlotte and keep her and the little one safe. Amen.”

  Maggie swiped at the tear in her eye before Reuben had a chance to open his own. It had struck her that if it weren’t for Reuben’s dream the day before, they’d still be on their way to Petawawa.

  “Seems like this was almost too easy,” he muttered.

  “Of course, it could have been a different pregnant woman,” Maggie said. They climbed out of the car and walked up the steps to the front door.

  Again, Reuben explained to the receptionist that they were looking for Charlotte Penfield, who would have arrived by ambulance yesterday and was probably taken to the maternity ward.

  The receptionist looked in her book. “I’m sorry, sir, we have no one registered by that name.”

  “How about another ward?” he asked.

  The young woman looked again, turning the page and checking the names slowly.

  “No, sir. No one.”

  “Is there another hospital in the area?”

  “No, sir. McKellar General serves a very wide area.” The telephone rang and she turned to answer it.

  Reuben looked at Maggie and sighed. “I knew it seemed too easy.”

  “Let’s sit down over here where we can think.” Maggie led Reuben to a row of stiff wooden chairs and sat. “These dreams of yours. You say they’re never wrong?”

  “Oh, Maggie. Please don’t think I haven’t asked that question a million times before I even told you about this one. So far, no. They have never been wrong.”

  “Well, maybe you missed a piece of information then, because the woman they brought here from the train station must have been someone else.”

  Reuben said nothing. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at his feet. Praying, probably.

  Maggie spotted a door with the word Ladies on it and excused herself. She wrestled with the question of Charlotte’s whereabouts as she washed and dried her hands, but when she walked out, something caught her eye that convinced her they were on the right track. She marched straight to the front desk again, waving Reuben over as she walked.

  “She’s here, Reuben.” She turned to the receptionist again. “Excuse me, miss, but would you happen to have a Charlotte Wilson registered?” A nurse standing a few feet away studied a clipboard. She glanced over the top of her glasses at Maggie.

  The receptionist gave Maggie a skeptical look, but by this time, Reuben and his beautiful collar had stepped up behind Maggie. She checked her list again.

  The nurse’s eyebrows suddenly shot up. “Yes. Charlotte Wilson, room 103.”

  “Bingo!” Maggie said, giving Reuben an ear-to-ear grin.

  The receptionist didn’t smile. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours don’t start until this afternoon at one o’clock.”

  “Is she okay? Is the baby all right? Is it a boy or a girl? When was it born? How big?” Maggie spoke so quickly she sounded like an auctioneer.

  “I really can’t answer all those questions, ma’am.”

  The nurse nearby spoke up. “Are you family?”

  “We’re the girl’s guardians,” Maggie said.

  “Then perhaps you can clear up the confusion about her name. Is it actually Wilson? In all the chaos when she arrived, we were given at least two names.”

  “How’d you know she was here, Maggie?” Reuben said in a low voice.

  Maggie grinned. “From the door to the ladies’ room, I could see a chalkboard outside the maternity ward. On the top, it says ‘Welcome,’ and below that it lists Baby Brookes, Baby Jenkins, and Baby Wilson!” Then she turned to the receptionist. “Wilson is the baby’s father’s name. It would be just like Charlotte to use it.”

  The receptionist sighed. “You’ll still have to wait for visiting hours. Feel free to wait in our waiting area.”

  “But we drove all the way from Winnipeg,” Maggie complained.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. . . .”
<
br />   “Marshall. Maggie Marshall.”

  The nurse made a note on her clipboard. Reuben took Maggie’s elbow and led her back to the seating area.

  “Wilson is a pretty common name,” he murmured. “How silly will we feel if it’s not her?”

  “Who’s doubting now, dreamer?” Maggie couldn’t resist teasing.

  But Reuben didn’t take the bait. “All right. Assuming it is her, what happens next? We can’t exactly take her back with us. Don’t they usually keep mothers in the hospital for a week after delivery?”

  “Yes,” Maggie agreed. “But it’s the baby I’m wondering about. Plans are in place for it to be released for adoption immediately upon birth. Do you suppose Charlotte told them?”

  “You could ask, but I doubt it would do any good.”

  “You could ask. Reverend.” Maggie wiggled her eyebrows.

  Reuben stood. “Let’s be patient, shall we? C’mon, it’s a beautiful day out there. I’ll buy you a proper breakfast while we’re waiting.”

  They walked three blocks to a diner, where they both ordered bacon and eggs and toast and coffee, and where Maggie complained through the entire meal about the slow service, the overcooked eggs, and the dusty windowsills.

  CHAPTER 17

  Though Charlotte was needled with worry, her exhaustion had allowed her to fall asleep immediately after Darcy was taken to the nursery. Twice during the night and once this morning they had brought him to her for feeding. Each time, she talked to him for the length of his stay. And each time they took him away, she felt the tugging pain of separation more keenly. When she slept, a black-hooded figure entered her dreams and tried to steal a treasure chest from her. Although she didn’t know what was inside it, she fought fiercely to keep it.

  She had just eaten a lunch of lukewarm tomato soup and a dry cheese sandwich when a nurse brought Darcy to her again. It took less than ten minutes for him to fill his tiny stomach and fall asleep in her arms. She was sleepy, too, but didn’t want to waste one precious minute of their time together. She stroked his hair and kept speaking softly to him.

  “You’re my little boy, yes you are. You’re the sweetest little boy in the whole wide world, yes you are. Yes you are.” The song of the little girl from the train came to mind and Charlotte sang softly every line she could recall of “Jesus Loves Me.” The scene would have been idyllic if not for what happened when the nurse waltzed back in.