by F. M. Parker
Alice darted past people on the sidewalk. Many turned to stare after the fleeing girl. She came to a section of sidewalk without people and ran onward with all her strength. Behind her she heard the sound of heavy feet pounding the sidewalk in pursuit.
“Thief. Thief. Catch that little bitch.” The angry cry of the butcher came to Alice.
From farther behind came the shouts of the baker. “Stop her. Somebody stop that girl.”
Alice ran at the top of her strength, flying feet pounding the sidewalk. She sucked at the air and it made a cold, sharp stinging in her throat as it went down into the lungs. In the middle of the next block she flung a quick look over her shoulder. Her pursuers were far behind.
She came to an alley and veered into it. At the end of the alley, she slowed and hid the sausage and sweet roll under her coat. She must not draw attention to herself. She came out onto the street at a moderate walk and crossed the street to the opposite alley. There she broke into a fast trot along it. At the next cross street, she again slowed to a walk and turned left along it and merged with the few pedestrians.
Half a score blocks farther along, she turned to the side to step over a falling down picket fence, and onward across the weed choked yard to enter the sagging doorway of the house where she and Gracie had taken sanctuary.
Gracie opened her eyes at the sound of Alice’s footsteps. “I was worried about you. Thought maybe a policeman would catch you.”
“Everything’s all right,” Alice said and knelt by Gracie. “And I’ve got something good for us to eat.”
She opened her coat and removed the sausage and sweet roll and held them out for Gracie to view. “How about this?” she said proudly. “Doesn’t it look tasty?”
“I’m really not hungry. You eat it.”
“You got to eat to get well. Which one would you like to eat first?”
“I can’t eat. Really, I can’t.”
“Oh, please, Gracie. One bite at least. The sweet roll should be especially delicious. One bite now.”
Alice put the roll to Gracie’s mouth. “Do it for me, please.”
Gracie took a nibble. She looked into Alice’s eyes as she chewed mechanically and swallowed.
“No more. Please. I’ll throw up.” Her voice sank to a weary whisper. “I’m so awfully tired. I’ll eat more later and get well.”
Alice sat down on the floor and took Gracie’s small, cold hand into hers. “Oh, Gracie, what am I going to do?” She feared for her little friend’s life.
“I’ll be all right so don’t you worry. I think I’ll sleep a little now.” Her eyes closed.
Alice stroked Gracie’s soft cheek. “Yes, sleep, Gracie. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Tears pooled in Alice’s eyes, and overflowed and coursed down her cheeks.
Finally Alice stifled her tears of worry about her little friend. She began to eat the sweet roll.
She heard a sound on the floor behind her and whirled to look. The young policeman stood in the doorway. Alice leapt to her feet. How did he find her?
“You almost got away from me,” said the policeman. “You shouldn’t have stole those things for now I’ve got to take you down to the station house.” He pointed down at Gracie wrapped in the blankets. “What’s wrong with the little one?”
“That’s Gracie and she’s awfully sick. Her brother is upstairs. He’s dead. I found Gracie and her brother last evening. With him dead, I decided to take care of her. The food was for her.”
“Umm, I see” said the officer and rubbed the side of his face. “Well we can’t just leave her here. And you say her brother is upstairs and dead?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
“Alice Childs.”
“Well, Alice, I’ll carry Gracie to the hospital where a doctor can care for her if you promise not to try to run off. What do you say to that?”
“Oh, yes, yes. I’ll not run off.” Alice nodded in quick agreement.
“You promise?”
“I promise with all my heart.” With those words, she felt a dark foreboding as to what might happen to her at the station house.
The officer tossed aside the blankets covering Gracie, and scooped her up into his arms. “She weighs almost nothing. She sure needs some food got into her too. Now, Alice, you walk ahead of me where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Yes sir,” replied Alice.
“I’ll send somebody for the boy.” The officer motioned for Alice to move toward the door.
*
“Alice Childs, Mr. Jenkins here has made a complaint that you stole his sausage.” the sergeant of police spoke to Alice from behind his desk in the police station. “Are you guilty of that?”
Alice remained silent as she watched the sergeant. He was going to send her to jail, she was certain of that. However Gracie was now at the hospital and a doctor was caring for her. That was sufficient payment for whatever punishment the policeman heaped upon her.
“Answer me, girl. Did you steal the man’s sausage?”
“I wanted food for my sick friend, Gracie. She had to eat to get well.”
“I’m sorry your friend is sick. But that doesn’t excuse you from stealing.”
“Yes, sir, I know that. But I had to do it for Gracie.”
“Lock her up with all the other little thieves in the detention center,” Jenkins said harshly from where he stood beside the arresting officer.
“Don’t tell me my job, Jenkins,” replied the sergeant. “You’ve made your complaint. So you can leave now. I’ll take the proper action with this young thief.”
“I don’t trust you,” growled Jenkins. “I’ve heard about you. I think you’re going to let her off easy like you have some other little thieves.”
The sergeant’s face hardened at the man’s accusations. ”Jenkins, that’s enough from you. You’d better leave before I arrest you for insulting an officer of the law.”
“That’s no crime, especially when it’s true.”
“Go now, Jenkins, get the hell out of here.”
“I’ll report you to the chief,” Jenkins fired back.
“You do that,” the sergeant said in a challenging tone. He rose from behind his desk and glared at Jenkins.
‘I’ll report you. I sure as hell will.” Jenkins stomped out of the room.
The sergeant stared for a moment at the door through which Jenkins had left. Then he spoke to the arresting officer. “Barker, go down the street to the Children’s Aid Society and bring Sister Marie here.”
“Right away,” replied Barker. He smiled as he left with a quick step.
The sergeant spoke gently to Alice. “Miss, why don’t you go over there and sit down and keep warm.” He gestured at the four straight backed chairs arranged in front of the hot water heat radiator attached to the wall.
“You’re going to keep me out of jail?” Alice asked hopefully.
“We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Thank you, sir. You’re very kind.” She felt a deep gratitude toward the sergeant.
“I’m not promising anything. Just go get warm.”
Alice seated herself in the chair closest to the heat radiator. Please! Please! Don’t send me to jail.
*
In the police station, Sister Marie spoke to the sergeant. “The orphanage is full. There’s no space for even one more boy or girl. And still from what you’ve told me about this girl stealing to feed a sick friend, her crime isn’t so terrible that she should be locked up. What possible good would that do? True friendship is a rare thing.”
“That’s why I sent for you,” said the sergeant. “She should be given another chance. Can you take her out of the city on the next Orphan Train and find her a family to live with?”
Sister Marie examined Alice, frowning at the tangled hair, the dirt smudged face, the torn soiled coat, but mostly at her size. “She’s older than most of the girls that I’ve taken west. Not many families would take her in except for the wo
rk she could do.”
Alice had been evaluating Sister Marie as she listened to the conversation. The nun was a small woman with a long, thin face and blue eyes. She wore a nun’s habit, a loose, black gown that swept the floor and a second piece of black cloth covering most of her head. Alice was no judge of an older person’s age; still she knew the nun was many times older than she.
Alice must speak for herself. She crossed the room to stand near the num and the sergeant.
“Sister, I must get out of the city. Please take me on your Orphan Train. I’ll do what ever you ask of me. I’d work hard for any family that would give me a place to sleep and something to eat.”
Sister Marie studied Alice for a moment longer. Then she turned to the sergeant and nodded. “All right.”
“Then you’ll take her on the next train?” asked the sergeant. “And find a home for her?”
“If I do take her, will you get in trouble with the chief?”
“No sister. The chief knows how bad it is for kids on the street, especially in the winter. In the past month we’ve found eight dead from hunger and the cold. Officer Barker said there’s a dead boy, brother of the little girl Alice was feeding, that we’ve got to get. The chief appreciates the good work you and the church do for the boys and girls we catch pulling petty thefts.”
“Very well then.”
Alice saw a roguish glint come into Sister Marie’s eyes, and she liked the expression.
“We have a train leaving tomorrow morning,” continued Sister Marie. “It’s full already, but I’ll squeeze her on board. She’ll be out of the city before Jenkins can take any action to stop me. There’s something you should know, tomorrow’s train will be the last one taking orphans west to find homes. With businesses failing and so many people out of work, donations are small and the church can’t afford another train.”
Sister Marie felt a deep sadness telling of the ending of the Church’s huge effort with orphan trains. When the first train ran in 1854, it was estimated there were 30,000 abandoned or orphaned children living on the streets of the city. Their number swamped the orphanages. The Catholic Church took pity on the waifs and created the New York Children’s Aid Society. Sister Marie had helped gathered up thousands of children and transport them across the land to distant farming town. Most of them were taken in by families where they were accepted as full members and given love and an education. She knew that some children were taken in for the labor their young bodies could provide. She feared others might have fallen into the hands of people both brutal and vile and this caused her much sadness.
“Your Orphan Trains has helped a lot of kids,” said the sergeant. “I’ll tell the chief what you said about this one being the last one.”
The sister nodded to the sergeant, then spoke to Alice. “Come along, Alice, I’m thinking you could use a bath, some clean clothes and a good meal.”
“Yes, yes a bath,” said Alice. She looked up into the nun’s face and fastened on her eyes. “Sister Marie, thank you for keeping me from being locked up.”
“You’re very welcome, Alice.” Sister Marie replied. The girl was young and vulnerable, and there was a wariness about her that had been earned from life on the streets. “Now let’s hurry along.”
Sister Marie led out of the police station. Alice followed. A great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. But this Orphan Train the sister and the sergeant spoke about, how far west would it take her? What would be the destination? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as the past weeks had been.
Sister Marie walked swiftly her legs kicking her long skirt. Alice stretched her legs to keep up with the sister. It was pleasant to be walking beside her. She was tempted to catch hold of the sister‘s hand. She controlled the impulse.
Half a score blocks passed and they came to an aged brick, two-story building with many windows on a street lined with big elm trees. A sign over the door proclaimed this to be the Children’s Aid Society. A trolley line ran down the center of the street in front. Alice heard the clang of a bell of a distant trolley. Sister Marie entered the front of the building through a thick oak door and Alice followed.
Deep inside the building in a tiny office, Sister Marie took out a thick ledger and recorded Alice’s birthplace, age, and the name of father and mother, and adding that both parents were deceased. She then turned Alice over to Sister Evangeline, a slim, intense young woman.
Sister Evangeline guided Alice directly to a storeroom where boxes were filled with clothing, obviously used, but in good condition, and all clean and neatly folded. They searched among the clothing for the correct size to outfit Alice with garments from the skin out. A second set was chosen, to be kept fresh for “the inspection” as the sister put it. This would be when the people of the towns where the train stopped would come and choose a boy or girl to take into their family. This second outfit and a warm coat and hat were stowed away in a small canvas satchel. Alice silently thanked the good and generous people who had given the clothing to the Society. Alice put her treasures and the knife into the satchel.
Carrying her new clothes, Alice followed Sister Evangeline next door to the bath house. There the sister filled a tub with heated water from a faucet.
Alice stripped and stepped into the tub of warm water. She sat down, the water caressing her legs, hips, up to her breast. “Oh, how wonderful,” she whispered. She took a bar of soap from the dish on the bath stand close by, and made lather and began to wash her dirty body.
Sister Evangeline was examining Alice’s raggedy clothing. “None of this is worth keeping,” she said and tossed the lot into the trash bin in the corner of the room. She drew up the chair from the dressing table and seated herself in the doorway of the bath room.
“You can go and do whatever you want,” Alice told the sister. “I’ll call you when I’m finished.” She wanted privacy for her bath.
“I can’t leave for I’ve been told to watch you and see that you don’t run away,” the sister replied. “If you run away, Sister Marie would be in trouble.”
“But I won’t run away. I want to go on the train.”
“I believe you. But some kids do, especially the bigger ones who came from the police station. I’m going to do what Sister Marie told me to.”
Alice could see Sister Evangeline would not leave. “All right. But I’d never do anything to hurt her.”
Alice finished bathing, dressed in the fresh clothing and followed Sister Evangeline to the dining hall where the children were already at their noonday meal. The room was large and brightly lit by the sunlight streaming in through the four tall windows along a wall. At the near end of the space was a serving table with its pans and cauldrons of food, and a sister standing ready to serve. The rich aroma of food filled the dining air and Alice breathed deeply, savoring the delightful smell. The sister smiled as Alice drew near and handed her a bowl of soup and a plate containing bread, butter and a wedge of cake.
Alice turned to find a place to sit among the children. She estimated there were nearly sixty of them, about half girls and half boys. Their ages ranged from those barely able to dress themselves to early teens. All were neatly dressed, their clothes from the same source as hers, Alice believed. They were seated on benches at two long wooden tables, the boys at one and the girls at the second. Alice found a seat among the girls.
Alice ate with deliberate slowness, savoring the large bowl of warm vegetable soup and the thick slice of bread with real butter spread on it.
From all around her came the happy, friendly chatter of the children. That was suddenly interrupted by a roar of laughter erupted from many throats at the boys’ table and Alice turned to see what caused it. A small, very thin lad of about six with black hair and fair skin was dancing and laughing and smiling and holding in his hand a piece of cake high above his head. His movements possessed a natural grace delightful to observe. He lowered the cake and took a bite. Then again he lifted the cake high, laughed in a high, childish voi
ce and pirouetted, and smiled, always smiling with such a look of pleasure at the food that Alice could only smile with him. She had never seen anybody appreciate their food so much that they expressed it by dancing joyfully. Still Alice would dance for a piece of cake for Gracie.
The sister at the serving table started toward the boy. Alice thought she intended to stop the boy’s antics. The sister halted and merely watched and smiled along with the children. However the lad had seen the sister start toward him, and with one last spin and a broad smile, quickly took his seat.
“That’s Teddy,” said the girl seated beside Alice. “He was starving on the street when they found him. Now he puts on a show at every meal that has cake for desert. The sisters put up with him because he’s so darn cute.”
“He is cute,” said Alice. “
“I’m Opal,” said the girl. “What‘s your name?”
“Alice.” She examined Opal, a plain girl with black hair and a large mouth with oversized teeth that protruded slightly. She was Alice’s height and strongly built.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Just came today. Sister Marie brought me.”
“She’s a fine lady.”
“She surely is. How long have you been here?”
“Nearly a week. Just waiting for the train to take us west. Hopefully to a new home.”
“The sister said it leaves tomorrow.”
“Yes,” said Opal and smiled, and with her wide mouth and large teeth it was a huge smile. “And I’m anxious and ready to go.”
Alice thought Opal’s smile was a lovely thing. It brightened her face and mostly overcame her plainness. “Where’s the train going to take us?”
“I’ve heard different places. Missouri, Kansas, maybe even farther west. We’ll just have to wait for Sister Marie to tell us. I hope I’m taken in by kind people.”
