by Amy Stewart
“I hope you haven’t been out here for hours,” Edna said. She fumbled for her key and stood a little apart from him. He seemed to belong to some other epoch in her life. She feared being dragged back into it if she stood too close.
“I went to the train station and found a bar that was just a little more welcoming to a male clientele,” Dewey said. “Your landlady told me you’d be back from your church meeting around now. I didn’t mind waiting.”
He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. She couldn’t invite him in and wasn’t sure she should ask him to sit down. There was only a single bench, damp and dirty, and she thought it might give the wrong message if they sat together.
He coughed into a gloved hand and said, “Now listen, Miss Edna. I didn’t come all this way to stand on your porch at ten o’clock at night. I’d been hoping to take you for a little supper and speak to you privately, but they tell me you’re away most every night at that church. I suppose you’re lonely, is that it?”
If she told Dewey, he would tell her brothers. She still had the vague idea that someone—her parents, the lady deputy, perhaps even that judge back in Hackensack—could stop her from going to France. So she told no one.
“The church does good work for the war,” she said. “Knitting and bandages.”
He nodded eagerly. “That’s fine, that’s good.”
There came another terrible pause. Edna couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
Dewey pressed on. “Yes, well, I know you’re missed back in Edgewater, and I suppose I came to ask if you’ve given any thought to when you might be coming home.”
She looked up at him and met his stare for the first time. She took in his flat, friendly face, his wide and unsuspecting eyes, and the easy, complacent smile with which he greeted the world. Dewey Barnes, at your service. He would be forever at the service of the woman who would have him.
The question hung in the air a little too long, and Dewey’s expectant features fell. Still Edna felt obliged to answer him squarely and not leave him guessing.
“I don’t believe I am coming home, Dewey.”
“But—you can’t stay here forever! Pompton Lakes is nothing but a factory with a few boarding-houses around it. I should know—I’ve had time to inspect the premises. There’s no future for you here. Unless—but surely you haven’t—I mean—you haven’t taken up with one of those factory boys, Edna?”
She turned away and looked off across Mrs. Turnbull’s porch railing and down the narrow street, which ended in darkness. With Dewey standing before her, offering warmth and good cheer and his constant, sturdy presence, she felt more alone than she ever had. What was she rejecting, and why? The idea of going to France had made the world seem so vast, and her own life so limitless. But now she saw that world shrinking again. There was only the factory, and the chores at the boarding-house, and the courses on war-work in the stuffy dark basement. None of it seemed as if it would actually take her anywhere.
And now—did she really mean to send Dewey away? With him standing in front of her, offering himself to her, she softened toward him a little. Dewey Barnes would take her to the pictures and on picnics in the summer, and quietly endeavor to make her life as agreeable as it was within his power to do. Wasn’t that a way forward?
But she’d been silent too long. Dewey took it to mean that she had, in fact, fallen for someone at the factory. He ducked his head down, pushed his hat on, and turned to go.
“It isn’t another man, Dewey,” she said. That was enough to make him stop on the porch steps. “Only . . . I’m sorry, but there’s just nothing between us. I didn’t mean for you to ever think there was.”
It stung her right through the chest to say it, but she couldn’t think of any other way. It wouldn’t be fair to make him wait or let him hope.
Her words had the effect she intended. He looked her over one last time. The depth of sorrow in his eyes took Edna by surprise.
“All right, Miss Edna. My mistake.”
He was gone before she could change her mind.
53
AT LAST MINNIE was transported back to the Hackensack jail for her court proceedings. She felt freer behind those steel bars than she ever had at the reformatory. Here was her chance.
Constance did what she could to tidy Minnie’s hair. The girl had nothing to wear but the plain jail uniform issued to all the inmates, but Constance had smuggled in a fresh shirtwaist and tried to make sure Minnie looked scrubbed and wholesome.
“Just be respectful,” Constance whispered. “Take a minute to think before you answer whatever questions they put to you. And don’t try to talk to Tony. Don’t even look over at him.”
Minnie nodded, wanting very much to seem agreeable to anything Constance asked of her.
“Your landlord won’t be testifying against you. As far as I know, they haven’t a single witness who can claim to have seen men going in and out of the place. But, Minnie, if you lie . . . it puts me in a terrible position if you lie. You understand that, don’t you?”
Minnie saw her opportunity, and took it. “All of this puts you in a terrible position, doesn’t it, Miss Kopp?”
Constance sat back and stared at her. “What do you mean by that?”
Minnie swallowed hard. She’d practiced these lines. “Only that . . . well, surely you didn’t become a lady deputy just to see girls like me put away. I’m not a criminal, am I?”
Constance leaned over and looked through the bars of Minnie’s cell to make sure no one was within earshot. “You have to admit that you put yourself into this situation,” she whispered. “And I’m not the judge. But you know I’d do more for you if I could.”
Minnie took Constance’s hands. “Oh, but, Miss Kopp, you can! Just put me with one of the other girls you’ve helped. Someone who’s in a better situation than me, and might look out for me. And then someday I could do the same for some other unfortunate girl. Don’t you see? At the reformatory they told me about a lady officer who did something like that out West. Couldn’t you try it here?”
Minnie’s hands were so cold that Constance wrapped hers around them instinctively. “I don’t know who told you that,” Constance said, “but I don’t have an army of girls out there waiting to take someone in.”
The gate to the fifth floor opened and a guard’s footsteps approached. “But you don’t need an army!” Minnie whispered. “Just one.”
“Sheriff wants the inmate over at the courthouse,” the guard called out. Constance gave her one more worried look and led her out of her cell.
THEY FOUND SHERIFF HEATH waiting for them outside the courtroom. He was a man who worked very hard not to let his expression betray him, but Constance could tell that something had gone wrong.
He looked over at Minnie. He hated to say anything in front of an inmate, but there was no choice. “They’ve released Mr. Leo.”
“Released him!” Minnie squealed. “Then he’s free, and so am I.”
“I’m afraid not,” the sheriff said. “The prosecutor dropped the charges against Mr. Leo for lack of evidence. The baker refused to testify.”
At least Constance had done something right. “What about the false marriage license?” she asked.
“That’s only a fine, and his parents paid it.” Sheriff Heath looked a little pained. “Detective Courter had enough doubts about Mr. Leo that he thought it best to drop those charges and focus his efforts on . . . on Miss Davis.”
Minnie watched the two of them, puzzled. “But—if there’s no evidence, they’re going to let me go, too.”
“Miss Davis, the prosecutor has recommended that you be sentenced to the reformatory until you’re twenty-one.” The sheriff would never tell an inmate that he was sorry about a sentence imposed, but his voice was full of regret.
“Where were we when all this happened?” Constance demanded.
“Apparently Mr. Courter met privately with the judge about dropping the c
harges.”
The door to the courtroom opened and a bailiff looked out at them. “It’s our turn,” Sheriff Heath said.
Constance marched in furiously, dragging Minnie behind her. She practically shoved the girl into a chair. Detective Courter was already there, with another man from the prosecutor’s office, and the judge was seated.
She was too impatient to sit through any preliminaries. “Your Honor, it has come to my attention —”
“Miss Kopp!” said the judge, obviously pleased to see her. “I have on my desk your report about Miss Edna Heustis. I could not be more pleased to see that she has continued to lead an upright life as you assured me she would. I’d like to see more cases like that. I even took the report home to show Mrs. Seufert, who thought it a fine piece of writing and an instructive tale. She’s going to read it to the ladies at her club—without the names, of course, but only to show what can be done along these lines if we put some effort into it—and she’d like to have you over for dinner. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about the wonders Mrs. Seufert can work upon a roast duck, but you’re to find out for yourself, at your earliest convenience.”
Constance’s anger was considerably deflated by the prospect of Mrs. Seufert’s roast duck. Surely if the judge was feeling this friendly toward her, he might be willing to make a favorable ruling for Minnie Davis.
“Thank you, Your Honor. I’d be delighted.” She risked a glance over at Detective Courter, who, she assumed, had never been invited to one of Mrs. Seufert’s dinners. “Miss Heustis is as respectable and hard-working a young lady as you might hope to meet. We’ve done right by her.”
“I do admire that girl,” the judge said, a little fondly, as if speaking about a favorite granddaughter.
“If we can get to the business at hand,” Detective Courter said.
“Yes.” The judge shuffled the papers on his desk. Constance turned around to look at Minnie, who was pale and frightened and fidgeting with the lace at her wrist. It was a moment for desperate ideas, and Constance groped for one.
“Now, didn’t I send this girl to the state home already?” the judge asked.
“That was only a transfer of custody until the trial,” Detective Courter said. “Your Honor, Minnie Davis was found in a furnished room with Mr. Anthony Leo, posing as his wife although the two had no intention of marrying. Other men were seen coming in and out of the place. Although she is only sixteen, Miss Davis is already morally compromised and would be best served by a sentence of five years at the girls’ reformatory.” He passed a paper to the judge and put a folder under his arm as if the matter was concluded.
“Sit back down, John,” the judge said. “I’d like to hear what Miss Kopp has to say, and I want to hear from the girl herself.”
“But isn’t it customary for the sheriff’s office to be removed from matters such as —”
“Thank you, Mr. Courter,” the judge said briskly. “Miss Kopp, I suppose you’ve gone around and done your bit here, is that right?”
Constance stood and said, “Yes, Your Honor. It’s well known by now that Mr. Leo possessed a forged marriage license, which implies that Minnie Davis did have some expectation of marriage. As for male visitors, there’s no evidence of that, and no witnesses to testify to that effect.”
“Your Honor,” Detective Courter said, a bit scornfully, “Mr. Leo and Miss Davis were caught by police, red-handed, as it were.”
“Yes . . .” The judge looked down at the papers on his desk.
Constance was afraid she was about to lose him. “To my knowledge, no men have been brought in on a debauchery charge involving Miss Davis,” she said, “and Mr. Leo was just released. I believe the act you’re describing takes two to commit. Without anyone else having been charged, I see no justification for putting this girl into an institution until she’s twenty-one.”
Judge Seufert looked up at her in surprise. “That’s a novel argument. What about it, John? Where’s the other half of this duo?”
“Well, I —”
Constance plunged ahead while she had the chance. “I know that the courts would rather not release Miss Davis on her own. She and her parents are on difficult terms, and neither wishes to live under the same roof with the other. But that’s not a crime, and she shouldn’t be deprived of her liberty over it.”
“I don’t see that you leave me another choice, Miss Kopp,” the judge said.
She risked another look over at Minnie, who had her eyes in her lap. “There is another way, Your Honor. Miss Davis would like to share a room with Miss Edna Heustis.”
Minnie gasped and stared up at her.
“I know that Miss Heustis would keep an eye on Miss Davis and exert a beneficial influence over her. I will take her to the powder works myself and see that she gets hired on, but I anticipate no trouble with that, as she already has factory experience and is accustomed to hard work. I’ll speak to the landlady on her behalf and make sure Miss Davis is allowed to pay her rent after she’s collected some wages. The landlady runs a strict house and will no doubt help to keep Minnie in line as well.”
Detective Courter made noises of protest, but the judge waved him away and looked down at Minnie. “Miss Davis, you don’t deny that you ran away from home and lived with a fellow as man and wife outside the bounds of marriage, do you?”
Minnie kept her face very well composed. “No, Your Honor, but it was a mistake, and I didn’t understand what could happen. Now that I know, I would never do it again.”
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you what could happen?”
Constance had to intercede on Minnie’s behalf. “I’ve been twice to see Miss Davis’s parents. It’s a hardscrabble home with very little time for motherly advice, but they do know right from wrong.”
“Is that true, Miss Davis? Do you know right from wrong?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Minnie was standing now, with her shoulders back and her hands clasped prayerfully in front of her. “I’m sorry for what I did, and I only wish it hadn’t landed me in jail.”
“Everyone wishes they hadn’t landed in jail,” the judge said gently. “Do you suppose you could live a good and quiet life, and make yourself a decent marriage someday, and stay out of trouble with the law?”
She took a deep and unsteady breath and nodded. “I do, Your Honor. I’ll do just as Miss Kopp says. I won’t be any bother to anyone.”
He turned to Sheriff Heath, who’d been sitting quietly off to the side. “Bob, do you have something to say?”
The sheriff stood and said, “I hired a lady deputy because I needed someone to take an interest in the female inmates and find ways to guide them to a better life. There’s no need for this girl to become a ward of the state, at a substantial cost to the taxpayers, when she can be put to work. We both know that Deputy Kopp will see to it that Miss Davis behaves.”
Judge Seufert looked at Minnie thoughtfully for a minute and said, “Miss Davis, I’m going to release you under the condition that you report to Deputy Kopp in the manner she prescribes, for a minimum of six months, to be extended at her discretion. She’ll be writing quite a few more of those reports, and you’d better hope I enjoy them as much as I did the first one. If we see you again in our courts, you won’t be treated so kindly.”
Minnie nodded and whispered her thanks. Constance took her out of the room before the judge could change his mind. Detective Courter was still sputtering furiously. As she left, she could hear him and the judge arguing over it.
Minnie looked a little green, and Constance wondered suddenly if she was really prepared to live up to her end of the bargain.
“I expect you to be grateful for the chance you’ve been given. I’m going to have to ask quite a lot of Edna. You must be grateful to her, and make it easy for her. Can you do that?”
Minnie nodded but didn’t dare speak for fear she’d ruin it.
Constance pushed open the courthouse doors, and they stood on the steps. Minnie took a deep brea
th of damp winter air and shivered as it went through her. She took Constance’s elbow to steady herself.
“Will I have to wear handcuffs on the train to Pompton Lakes?” she asked.
“Not this time,” Constance said.
54
MINNIE STOOD IN MRS. TURNBULL’S drab sitting room, with its dusty old lamps and rickety card table in the corner, and tried not to fidget while Constance explained their purpose.
“We’ve come to ask if Edna would be willing to share her room with another girl.”
Mrs. Turnbull clapped her hands together and looked Minnie over with genuine interest. “That’s a fine idea!” she cried. “Edna’s about to work herself to death. You can share in the rent and each pay your own board. It’s the smallest room, but you won’t mind, will you, dear? We can just squeeze in a cot. I suspect it’ll be more comfortable than the place you’ve been sleeping.” She gave Constance a meaningful look as she delivered that last line.
Constance didn’t want to tell too much about Minnie’s situation, so she merely said, “Miss Davis was being held as a witness. She was never charged with a crime herself. Owing to the amount of time that has passed, she lost her place at the jute mill in Fort Lee and had to give up her room. All she needs is a fresh start. If I can get her on at the powder works, I hope you’ll be willing to wait on the rent until after she’s been paid.”
That was satisfactory to Mrs. Turnbull. Constance took Minnie quickly out the door and over to the factory to make sure she could find a place for her.
“Show them what a good worker you’ll be,” Constance whispered as they walked into the enormous brick building that housed the fuse workshop. Minnie looked around with wide eyes, taking in the long row of machinery and the girls in their white caps working quickly and silently.
“It reminds me of the knitting mill back in Catskill,” she said. “The machines are almost the same.”
“That’s good, then. You’ve already had practice.”
Mrs. Schaefer was down at the other end of the room talking to one of the girls. “There’s the superintendent,” Constance said. “Do your very best.”
