New York Orphan (Tales of Flynn and Reilly Book 1)

by Rosemary J. Kind

  She lay in the silence, wondering if Sarah was awake, but not daring to call out to her, even in a whisper. Matron might be kindly at times, but the punishments were still real enough. Finally, she pushed the rosary into the pocket she’d sewn in the lining of her underskirt and lay waiting for sleep to take over.

  When she woke, although it was still early, there were no chores to do because they were leaving. She was glad, at least, that Sarah was going too, and the two girls washed and dressed, whispering as they did so.

  “What do you think it’ll be like?” Sarah asked as she started to put on the clean clothes she’d been given to wear.

  Molly smiled a wry smile. “Oh, I think it will have green fields and valleys and maybe some cows.” She couldn’t really remember Ireland; she was too young when she left, but she remembered the stories that Mammy told her and a few of the lines that Daniel sang. In her heart she had created a beautiful haven where it was always summer and where everyone was happy. She knew about the hunger and the famines, but she’d put those in the same box as all the other pain she’d gone through and clung only to the brightness of the sun and the goodness of all that went with it.

  “Do you think we might go to the same home?” Sarah asked, putting her hand into Molly’s.

  “Oh, I hope so,” said Molly. “More than anything, I hope so. We could share a room and take care of each other…”

  “Come along now, girls. Make sure you’re ready to leave.” Matron bustled from room to room, checking on progress.

  There were eight going from their home and they’d be meeting children from other parts of New York for the journey. More than that, Molly had no idea. Despite the apprehension and fear, it was hard not to be a little bit excited by the new experiences the day offered. They were taken first to the Pennsylvania Railroad’s ticketing office and then, by the horse-drawn vehicle, to the railroad’s wharf on the banks of the Hudson River.

  “Oh, Sarah, have you seen the horse? He’s a mighty fine animal and so strong. I feel real grand travelling like this when all I’ve ever done is walk.”

  “Mister, can we pat the horse?” Sarah asked the driver, who nodded with a resigned look on his face.

  “Come on now, get along there.” The attendant escorting them ushered them away and up into the carriage behind.

  Molly wanted to put her head out of the window to see what was going on, but there were boys in the group who were bigger than she was and they pushed her away so that they could have the best places. In the end, she and Sarah stayed close together, away from the doors and windows, until they reached the boat that was to take them across the river.

  Once they were on the western shore of the Hudson River, Molly looked back across the water to the life she was leaving behind. She pressed her hand against her skirt to feel the comfort of the wooden rosary beads and for a moment closed her eyes in prayer.

  “Move along.”

  She tripped as she was ushered forward and opened her eyes quickly to right herself. Evening had already fallen as they boarded the train at Exchange Place and began the long night of being rocked to and fro as the train rolled its rhythmical journey west. She and Sarah huddled together, trying to sleep. It was hardly less comfortable than their bunks had been and the regular motion of the train quickly brought on slumber.

  As the sunlight streamed into the carriage next morning, the girls were roused by the brightness and looked out on the ever changing and alien landscape.

  “Where are we?” Sarah whispered.

  Molly shrugged and searched the view for anything she could identify. Eventually the train pulled in to the station in Pittsburgh and she mouthed the word to Sarah, reading now coming fairly easily to her. Molly brushed her skirt down and took a deep breath, readying herself for what lay ahead. A whistle was blown further along the platform and the children were corralled together, but this was not their destination and instead of leaving the station as Molly had imagined, they were directed to another train.

  Molly’s shoulders slumped as they settled themselves once again. There was little else to do but watch the fields go by, at speeds she would not have thought possible. She wondered if it was the same journey that Daniel and Tommy had travelled, and for a moment her heart leaped as she imagined them being at the same final destination. If only that could happen and they could be together once again. She reached for the beads, holding them tightly through the linings of her skirt. Was it ok to pray for something like that to happen? When she eventually released them from her hot, sweaty hand she realised that her skirts had become particularly creased around their shape. She did her best to smooth it out, desperate that no one should know of her one hidden possession. The rosary had taken on a deeper meaning, far beyond its Catholicism. It felt to Molly as though it were a direct link to Mammy and the only one she had. She was terrified lest someone should take it from her.

  The afternoon was moving on by the time the train pulled into Pierceton and rolled to a stop.

  Sarah slid her hand into Molly’s and gave it a squeeze. “Are you all right?”

  Molly nodded. “Are you?”

  Sarah’s brow was furrowed and she was biting her lip. Molly tightened her hold on Sarah’s hand. “Stay close to me. Let’s hope we can be together.”

  Molly could feel Sarah trembling as she held her hand. The hall was filling fast with people who had come to see the orphans from the city. Molly looked at them carefully. Some people looked as though they were there for an afternoon out, and were not worth focussing her attention on. Then there were the rugged farmers who would settle for nothing less than a boy and who wouldn’t believe a girl could have the strength for farm work. Molly smiled, looking at some of the boys. She thought she could probably do the work of two of them and cause a deal less trouble in the process. She wished she could be wearing the breeches she’d worn to sell newspapers, but that wasn’t allowed for a girl, though she could not understand why. She did her best to smooth her skirts down neatly and felt the rosary in the lining as she did so. She wondered if praying with her eyes open would work, and tried not to move her lips as she muttered a Hail Mary.

  A woman in coarse farm clothes came and stood before her. She ignored the trembling Sarah and addressed herself to Molly. “And what can you do, girl?”

  “Please, ma’am, I can do the work of any boy my size and more besides.”

  “Will you work in the fields?”

  “Why yes, ma’am. I’ll do most things that need doing…” She hesitated. “… Me and my sister, that is.” She gently pushed Sarah forward. Her face was white but she had the sense to make a small curtsey.

  “You’ll answer for her work too?” The woman was still addressing herself to Molly, but looked Sarah up and down with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yes, ma’am. I most certainly will.” Molly crossed the fingers of the hand that was not holding Sarah’s.

  Suddenly the woman broke into a broad smile. “I expect you’ll do. The work’s hard, but I was a girl myself once and I remember what it was like helping Daddy round the farm. I daresay the two of you will learn the same way I did.”

  “What you got there, Ellie Cochrane?” One of the spectators shouted across the room to the woman.

  “Never you mind, Jacob Reese. She’s capable of more work than you or your brothers – and it’s Miss Cochrane to you!”

  For all her sternness, Molly could see the corner of her mouth twitch and began to think she might rather like Miss Cochrane.

  “Now, you two, take no notice of those boys. They wouldn’t know a day’s work if it sat down at the next stool in the bar. I’m guessing there’ll be papers to sign and then I think we’d best get you back for something to eat.” Ellie raised an eyebrow. “And a bath and clean clothes wouldn’t go amiss.”

  Sarah was wide eyed as they followed Ellie Cochrane. She looked as though she could not believe that things were going as well as they seemed. Molly felt the rosary again and smiled, mouthing a silent �
��thank you’ as she did so.

  Once they were out of the hall, and in the small cart on the way to the farm, Ellie began to talk. “Well now…” She looked closely at the girls as the horses trotted on. “There’s not much you need to know. I’ve worked out from the papers I signed that you aren’t sisters, so don’t you be worrying about that. I inherited the farm when my daddy died. It became mine on account of having no brothers. We’ve one or two labourers about the place, but I wanted me some female company. Take no notice of the likes of Jacob Reese. He thinks no woman is capable of anything more than bearing children. Truth is, I bought some of his daddy’s land when he lost it to the bank and he’s never forgiven me. You’ll live in the house with me and mostly work on the farm. There’ll be some schooling, if they’ll take you at the Crawford Schoolhouse, but it’s not always easy for a girl. If they won’t, then I’ll help you best I can. On Sundays there’s Sunday School. That’s part of The First Presbyterian Church. There’ll be no work in my house of a Sunday except as the Good Lord calls us to do of a need. The cow still has to be milked, but apart from that there’s precious little that can’t wait until Monday.”

  The journey didn’t take long, but the girls were both tired from their long travels and Sarah dozed against Molly’s shoulder despite the bouncing of the cart.

  “I ’spect you girls would like to see your room. While you get washed I’ll get some food for you both and then if you want to sleep you can do so with a full stomach. I’ll show you round properly tomorrow.”

  Molly felt grateful for this understanding woman and hoped that life might continue that way, but hardly dared to believe it could. They followed Ellie through the old farm house.

  “It’s so big,” Molly said in what was intended to be a whisper.

  “It was my daddy’s place. When we were young there were rather more living here than there are now. I’m hoping you girls will bring it to life a little.”

  “Look,” Sarah said as they turned the corner into a large room. “There are two beds. Who else sleeps here?”

  Ellie Cochrane let out a chuckle. “There’s just the two of you. I’d a hope of bringing two of you back with me today, so I got things ready just in case. You can have a bed each or share one if you prefer.”

  Molly looked around the room at the clean fresh cotton and linen and her mouth fell open. “Thank you, Miss Cochrane. Oh, thank you.”

  “Now don’t you go getting all sentimental on me. You’ve a job to do and, make no mistake, it’s a hard one. There are some who wouldn’t like being out here in the middle of nowhere either. You’ll have a long walk to school too, and there’s no saying ‘no’.”

  Molly’s smile stretched wide. “We lived in the middle of nowhere in Ireland before we came to New York and I’ve never run away from working.” She looked at Sarah but her friend looked too tired to take it all in. She knew Sarah wasn’t so strong, but hoped that with the fresh air she’d soon be as fit as Molly was.

  “Now, will you find your way back downstairs to the kitchen? I’ve food prepared ready that you can eat as soon as you want.”

  “Yes, Miss Cochrane, we most certainly will.” Molly took Sarah’s hand and led her over to the water stand to take a wash.

  The clothes that were left for them were clean and had no extra holes. Molly ran her hand across the fabric; it was strong but soft to the touch. She held the dress against herself and looked in the mirror. If only Tom and Daniel could see her now. She felt for the comfort of the rosary and resolved to sew new pockets in the linings of these clothes just as soon as she could find a needle, thread and enough material to make a patch.

  The days passed happily for Molly. She and Sarah took turns to work in the little dairy attached to the farm and the rest of the time was spent between caring for the chickens and helping with the corn crops. Sarah soon developed a little colour to her cheeks and put on some weight, making her look almost healthy. It made Molly happy to see the change in her friend.

  She kept the rosary hidden, fearing that the church people might take it away from her. Being a Catholic was one of the taunts at school that she barely understood the reason for, but it was clear that Irish Catholics were somehow viewed apart from the other townsfolk. As though it were a different religion, and while she didn’t understand why, Molly knew better than to ask questions or show her treasure.

  “And who d’you think you are, Molly Reilly?” Cal Turner said as she pushed Molly hard against the wall.

  Molly balled her fists and then tried to put on her sweetest smile. “If you know my name, why are you asking, Cal Turner?” Her stomach was churning and she really wanted to throw a punch, but knew that would only bring more trouble. She wished that Tommy were around.

  “Go back to the gutters of New York where you belong. We don’t want your kind here. Nor you, Sarah Duggan.” Cal spat in Sarah’s direction.

  “You leave her be.” Molly was seething. How dare Cal treat her that way? Cal was no better than the gangs Molly thought she’d left behind.

  “And what’s happening here?” Miss Ellie’s voice boomed as she jumped down from the cart and approached the school house.

  Cal Turner stepped back, but muttered as she went, “You’ll pay for this, Molly Reilly.”

  Molly swallowed. “It’s nothing, Miss Ellie, Cal here was just asking how we were getting on.” She shot a look in Cal’s direction and received one back that was pure hatred.

  “Didn’t look much like nothing to me.” Ellie Cochrane raised her eyebrow and looked at Cal Turner in a pointed manner. “I sure hope you’re making my girls feel welcome or I ’spect your daddy would like to be hearing about it.”

  Cal turned on her heel and Ellie smiled at the girls. “Looks like I got here just in time. Now why don’t you girls tell me what really happened as I drive you home? I was just passing and thought you might appreciate a change from walking.”

  That night they sat and told Miss Ellie the story of what life had been like in New York. Molly missed out her brother’s pickpocketing and some of the worst of street life, but she told most everything else, except for the keeping of the rosary. Even Sarah didn’t know about that.

  All Miss Ellie said was, “Oh, you poor dears,” as she ladled an extra helping of soup out for each of them, but those words were heavy with more care than Molly’d heard from any adult. Even Mammy had been in the same position that they were and was part of the fight for survival. Miss Ellie was different, and for the first time in her life, Molly felt safe and secure.

  Chapter 11

  Alone, all alone, by the wave washed strand

  All alone in a crowded hall

  The hall it is gay and the waves they are grand

  But my heart is not here at all.

  Slievenamon, Charles J Kickham

  It was dark when Daniel left the yard. He hoped the night would provide all the cover he needed to flee. The air was still and silent and his ears were sharp for the slightest cause of alarm. He hadn’t left the confines of the farm since the day he arrived and knew nothing of direction, except the little he gleaned by listening to the brothers’ talk.

  The dirt track went both left and right from the driveway. He tried to remember the direction the cart turned when they arrived and seemed to recollect the town was to the left. Instead, he turned to the right. He’d rather walk many more blistering miles than risk being seen by Jed or Rick.

  He knew little of the community which now called itself his home and, having been used to life on the streets, was unaware that any child out alone would be cause for query, night or day. He learned the hard way that everyone belonged to someone, more in ownership than care, and he had gone no more than a few miles before he was picked up by a neighbouring farmer. He hadn’t answered to the question ‘Where are you running from, boy?’, but with so few turns off the road, it wasn’t hard for his captor to work it out. With no idea where he was going, running from the man was not much of an option and so, broken and defe
ated, he allowed himself to be bundled into the cart, left tied up overnight, only to be thrown back out into the yard at the feet of Mr Hawksworth the next morning.

  If running away was harder than he’d thought, being returned was even worse. His wounds were already deep when Mr Hawksworth took his belt to him again. No one was there to watch this time. Jed and Rick would likely be too hung over to have surfaced and Mrs Hawksworth was nowhere to be seen. Daniel wondered briefly if the same fate had befallen her, but that thought was more unbearable than his own mistreatment, so he pushed it from his mind.

  He trembled as the belt lashed, this time against his legs. As he tried to bear the pain, he wished he had died on the boat with Ma and Da, or caught cholera and died in New York with Mammy. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling, however much satisfaction it might be giving Mr Hawksworth. He just prayed for the beating to stop or death to come, and whichever it was to happen soon. When the lashes ceased to rain down, the stinging in his legs was so great that it was a few moments before he realised they’d stopped.

  When Mr Hawksworth walked away, Daniel stayed where he was, his breathing ragged, barely able to move. He knew Mrs Hawksworth would not be there to tend the wounds this time and that any salving would have to be done for himself, but he had no creams, just the moisture from the few stray plants around the yard, and he had no idea whether they would serve any good purpose.

  After those beatings, it took months for his skin to heal and it was likely even then that there were visible scars. Daniel had no mirror to see them with and there was no one he trusted who he could ask, but he could feel raised skin on the parts of his back that his hands could reach. He tried hard to do his work quietly and keep out of the way of the others. When he was alone in the fields, he sang softly to himself and dreamed of better times.

  Time passed slowly, though there was no way to mark it but for the changing seasons and the height of the sun in the sky. It was around harvest the following year when Mr Hawksworth came out to find him in the bunkhouse.