Girl in Falling Snow

by F. M. Parker

  Paul took up the last block of ice in his gloved hands, braced it against his thick wool coat, and carried it to the sled and placed it with the others there. He backed up and eyed the stack of ice blocks and estimated that he had accumulated at least a ton. The sled was strong being constructed of tough hickory and oak and had runners of strips of iron that slid easily on snow and ice.

  On Paul’s side, Brutus made a low warning “Woof”. Paul pivoted around to see what had caused the dog’s alarm. Immediately his hunter’s eye caught sight of Black Face on the ice down steam from him. The wolf sat motionless and staring at Paul. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Paul muttered. His rifle lay on the sled but he didn’t reach for it. He copied Black Face and froze into stillness and stared back.

  The tableau of wolf and man and dog appraising each other held for a quarter minute. Then Black Face rose nonchalantly to all four feet and trotted for the far shore and vanished into the forest.

  Paul noted Black Face’s direction and knew it led to his home range and the members of his pack. That told him the wolf had come from the territory of the River Pack. “Have you been searching for a pretty lady wolf?” Paul asked silently. “I’m sure you were and that’s good for it means another pack of wolves in three years or so.”

  Paul retrieved his ice saw and hook and placed them on the sled. He untied the reins from one of the wooden uprights and called to the horse. That willing beast leaned into its harness and the sled slid forward on its iron runners with Brutus riding the top of the pile of ice blocks and staring ahead.

  As was Paul’s routine, he would take the ice laden sled along the short lane that ran from his home and along the river to the main road running north and south. From that location the main road continued north for a short distance and over a bridge into Canada. Paul would leave the sled beside the road on the south end of the bridge. The ice company truck came by once a week to pick up the ice. Payment would be credited to his and his mother’s account.

  Chapter Seven

  Taken In

  The locomotive towing the coach full of orphans came to a stop with a hiss of steam at the railroad station in Bimiji, Minnesota. The steam froze in the frigid air and fell in a rain of fine crystal onto the cinder covered ground.

  Deputy Sheriff Sam Horton, from two blocks distant in the Beltrami County Courthouse, saw the train stop at the station. Sam was a slender man twenty six years old and slightly less than six feet tall. He kept himself in top condition by long runs, competing in snowshoe races in the winter and canoe races in the summer.

  He spoke over his shoulder. “Sheriff, the Orphan Train has just pulled into the station.”

  County Sheriff Oscar Taggert, seated at his desk and reading the top sheet of paper from a pile of them, raised his face and aimed pale brown eyes at the back of Sam’s head. “Horton, how in hell could I not know that with all the noise it makes?” He said sarcastically. “You talk too damn much.”

  Sam’s face tightened with anger at the rebuke. He was just making conversation and any reasonable man would have known that and accepted it in that spirit. But not Sheriff Taggert, he had a mean streak. Sam would have enjoyed walking over to Taggert, telling him to stand up and then knocking him flat on his back. Two things were wrong with that idea. Sheriff Taggert was a large man, thick boned and heavy muscled, and immensely strong. In all of Beltrami County, there might not be one man who could knock him off his feet, if they dared try. Sam wasn’t one of them. Secondly, such an action would get Sam fired and he liked being a lawman with the pay and prestige that went with it.

  He knew first hand that Taggert was a talented detective and relentless in pursuit of a criminal. Sam had been with him when they trailed a thief through the forest to Canada, and without contacting the Mounties, drag the man back across the border into the States. Taggert was tough on the convicts locked up in his jail, striking a prisoner with his fist for simply being slow to answer a question put to him, or merely giving the sheriff a sour look. Once released from jail, the prisoners knew to stay clear of Taggert and to keep their mouths shut about their treatment while behind bars. Taggert had also demonstrated his willingness to shoot to kill. He had gone to arrest two men suspected of a robbery. He had come back with their bodies, stating simply that they had resisted arrest. The two men were known and there was talk among the people that they were not the kind to resist arrest. However, nobody openly questioned the sheriff’s word.

  Sam often wondered why Taggert had hired him to be deputy sheriff. Sam knew he was a good lawman; however men with more experience had applied for the job back in April when the previous deputy sheriff, Jan Johansson, had been killed. He hoped the sheriff had not hired him due his aunt Matty, Matilda, being married to Cole Taggert, the sheriff’s brother.

  The gunman who had shot and killed Johansson had never been caught; the only unsolved crime in the county in the nine years Taggert had been sheriff. When Sam came on duty, Taggert turned the case over to him to try his hand at solving it.

  As Sam reviewed the case file, he found that Taggert had documented in much detail every step he had taken in his investigation of the murder. Deputy Johansson had been found dead with three bullets to the chest and lying on the road beside his sheriff’s cruiser along Highway 72. The bullets extracted from the body had led nowhere. Among other avenues, Taggert had questioning all previous inmates of the jail that had been locked up there while Johansson was alive. That avenue had provided nothing, with all ex-cons having alibis.

  Sam started all over, viewing the scene of the killing, but after nearly a month, and two heavy rains, there had really been nothing to discover. He had again questioned the ex-jailbirds, who fortunately still lived in the county. Somewhat to his surprise, he found that the convicts had considered Johansson a proper lawman, as opposed to Taggert which they heartily disliked. One ex-convict stated bluntly that it should have been Taggert instead of Johansson that had been killed.

  Taggert had made a final comment in his report, “That it was considered most likely that Deputy Jan Johansson had been killed by a transient motorist he had stopped passing through the county”. Sam could add nothing to that.

  Taggert rose from his desk and stretched hugely with arms flung out widely. He took his broad brimmed lawman’s hat from the tree stand and placed it squarely upon his head. He positioned his holstered pistol just so on his hip, and drew on his heavy uniform coat.

  “Come along, Horton, we’re suppose to be present when the folks make their selection of the orphans. Do you know of anybody in the county who we shouldn’t allow to take one?”

  “No” replied Sam.

  “Neither do I.”

  Taggert strode swiftly from the office, forcing Horton to grab up his coat and draw it on as he trailed behind.

  A two minute walk on the sidewalk, covered with several inches of snow from yesterday’s storm, brought them to the railroad station. There they gathered with George Sherrod, town mayor, and Father Joseph Brannan, the local catholic priest, and fifteen or so men and women who had braved the frigid cold to come to the station to view the orphans as they came off the train.

  A door on the passenger coach opened and an oldish nun dressed all in black attire descended the steps and stood on the station platform. She looked expectantly at the group of people. The priest followed by the mayor went forward to meet the nun.

  The priest smiled broadly and caught the hand of the nun in both of his. “Welcome, Sister Marie, we’ve been expecting you.” He shook her bare hand gently. He seemed on the verge of hugging her, but stopped and simply held her hand for a second before releasing it, before saying. “This is Mayor Sherrod.”

  “Oh, yes, I remember Mayor Sherrod very well from our trip here back in the spring,” said Sister Marie and extended her hand to the mayor.

  Sherrod clasped Sister Marie’s bare hand with his gloved one. Sister Marie forgave him this lack of manners with the glove, for after all, it was terribly cold with the low te
mperature and the wind.

  “Everything is arranged, sister, just as we agreed,” said the mayor.

  “I hope there are many people willing to take children. I want every one of them to find a home.”

  “Father Brannan and I have been busy finding homes for them,” said the mayor. “The people who chose children during your last trip have told their neighbors that they are very satisfied with the children.”

  “Based upon that favorable report, we do have a list of interested people,” added Father Brannan. “Mostly farm families same as during your last trip.”

  “Because of the terrible cold, I’ve arranged for the inspection of the children to be held in the school gymnasium and the people are waiting there,” said the mayor. “The school is just along the street three blocks from here.”

  Sister Marie swept a look over the snow covered town lying under a low, dark overcast sky. She would have preferred a sunlit day for she had found that people were more generous when the sun shone. She turned back to the mayor. “That was very thoughtful of you. Give me a minute to be sure my children are dressed for the cold and I’ll bring them off the train.”

  *

  Alice had gathered with the other girls and boys pressed against the coach windows and watching Sister Marie talk with the two men. One was dressed like the priest she had seen in Terryville.

  Alice’s stomach felt odd and her chest was tight. She didn’t like the thoughts of being inspected by strangers and judged to see if she was worthy of being taken into their homes.

  “I’m scared,” Della said in a tiny voice. She clutched Alice’s hand in a tight grip.

  “Don’t be scared, honey,” Alice said. “Nobody will hurt you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “They’re all good people in this town.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure for Sister Marie wouldn’t talk with people who would hurt a little girl. So don’t you worry.”

  “All right, Alice.”

  *

  Sister Marie climbed the three steps and came onto the coach in the girls’ end. The curtain had been drawn back between the two halves and she could see all the boys and girls. Everyone turned from the windows and looked at her. Most faces held expression of doubt and anxiety. Some held fear. A few of the oldest boys showed outright anger at what was happening to them.

  Sister Marie moved to the center of the coach so that all could hear her. “Boys and girls,” the sister avoided calling them children, “Father Brannan and Mayor Sherrod have found people who have said they’re interested in having a new girl or boy in their home. Some will want a little one and some a big one. All of them will want pleasant children so stand up straight and smile, show them that you aren’t a sourpuss.” Sister Marie smiled as she said sourpuss. “If people talk with you, answer politely and say yes mam or yes sir.”

  Alice didn’t feel like smiling. She didn’t think many of the other children would be able to make a smile.

  “It’s a little walk to the school where the people are waiting. Now you big boys and girls help the little ones put on their coats and hats and get them all buttoned up for its very cold outside. The snow is deep and little feet will need help, so help them along. Bring your satchels with your old clothes for if you are chosen, you’ll leave with your new family.”

  Sister Marie swept a compassionate look over the half circle of worried, wary young faces regarding her so very attentively. “Now don’t feel badly if you aren’t chosen here in this town for we have other towns to visit. Now get ready quickly.”

  There was a flurry of coats being donned and buttoned and satchels taken in hand. Then all the boys and girls turned and looked expectantly at Sister Marie. She nodded and led them off the coach.

  The snow crunched under Alice’s feet as she stepped down onto the station platform. A large quantity of the cold crystals fell into the tops of her low cut shoes and lay against her ankles. She hastily lifted Della up out of the snow and into her arms. The child wrapped her legs and arms tightly around Alice and nestled her head against her shoulder.

  “It’s really cold,” Della said.

  “Yes it is,” Alice replied. “But we should soon be where it’s warm.”

  Holding Della close in her arms, Alice joined with the other children following Sister Marie, the priest and the mayor. The people that had come to the station came last. The procession was too large for the sidewalk and the priest and mayor led the people along the snow covered street. Small voice complained of the snow and cold.

  *

  Inside the entryway of the school gymnasium, Alice sat Della down upon her feet, but continued to hold her hand. She commenced to examine the Bemiji folk that had gathered to view the orphans. More than a hundred men and women, and a few children not yet of school age, mostly filled the end of the gymnasium. They stood silently with their eyes running over the orphans. Many of the men’s faces were weathered by sun and wind and reflecting their outdoor occupations as farmers or workers in the forest. Standing off by themselves were two men in uniforms with badges.

  A table and four chairs had been placed in the center of the gymnasium and the mayor and the priest led Sisters Marie and Evangeline directly to them. The children followed, pressing close about the sisters as if afraid to let them get far away.

  The mayor spoke to Sister Marie. “Sister, would you please line the children up for inspection?”

  “Certainly.”

  Sister Marie spoke to the children. “You boys start a line there and extend it back toward the door. You girls start here.” She pointed at locations on the wooden floor. “And take off your coats and hats so that the people can see you better.”

  The children, their faces holding a mixture of worry, and of hope that they would find somebody who would take them in, somebody they could call family, hastened to obey. Alice took a place in line with Della by her side. Opal took a position on Alice’s other side. Within but half a minute the boys and girls were in line. Thin and nervous, they stood quietly with their eyes searching the faces of the town’s people. Della clutched Alice’s hand tightly.

  The mayor motioned for the nuns to be seated behind the table, and he and the priest claimed the remaining two chairs. Sister Marie opened her ledger and sat waiting and watching the gathering of people. Even though she had brought the children here to find homes for them, she felt a loss at their going, and she admitted to a concern that they might not be treated kindly and fairly. She knew the largest boys would be chosen first for they would be cheap labor for the farmers or tradesmen. The girls would be chosen based upon both their size and prettiness. Sister Marie recognized the human nature of this.

  Della tugged on Alice’s hand and whispered to her. “Please, Alice, make them let me go with you.”

  “I’ll try my best,” Alice whispered back.

  As she returned to observing the four people at the table, the two lawmen came to stand near the mayor. The mayor nodded at the officers. He then said something in a low voice to Sister Marie. She gave the lawmen a short scrutiny.

  Mayor Sherrod called out in a loud voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, please give me your attention.” He waited until the people quieted, then continued to speak. “Sisters Marie and Evangeline have brought these orphans girls and boys all the way from the streets of New York City with the hope and prayer that they will find homes among the good folks of Minnesota, and especially the generous people who live in and around Bemiji. Now I have a list of those among you who have expressed an interest in choosing a boy or girl. If there are others here who have not signed up with me but have an interest in a child, you are also welcome to look them over. Please be gentle with them. They have had more than enough ill treatment in their short lives.

  “As we have in the past, proceed down the lines and look at the children. When you see a boy or girl that you think might fit into your family, you can take him or her aside and talk privately. Should you decide to tak
e the child, come to Sister Marie here at the table and she will record the information about you and the child. You must agree to treat the child as a member of your family and not as a servant. If it comes to a situation later that you find the child does not fit into you home, you must turn the child over to Father Brannan.”

  At that moment, Alice saw Teddy, who was in the boy’s line across from her, hand his coat and hat to one of the boy beside him. He stepped into the open space between the lines of boys and girls and faced the assembled people of Bemiji. He made a deep bow and held it for a moment. He straightened, and gave them a huge smile from his pale, thin face. He began to dance. Supple as a new blade of grass, Teddy’s slender body spun in charming pirouettes with arms outstretched. He spun left for a dozen times and then, without the slightest loss in the smoothness of his steps, reversed to spin right. He pirouetted with his arms making elegant movements and always with that lovely smile upon his face. His pirouettes slowed until he was hardly turning and his arms and hands began to pantomime in marvelous, fluid motions. First he imitated a butterfly, his hands and arms making the slow beat of its wings and his steps moving to mock its customary erratic flight; he abruptly stiffened his body and his hands performed the rapid, precise flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, and then the speedy dive of a hawk upon its prey. At least that was the way Alice interpreted Teddy’s movements. He danced on returning to his pirouettes, performing not as a showoff, but with a child’s innocent joy of dancing obvious upon his young face and thus making it all so very wonderful. With a last whirl with arms outstretched, Teddy ceased moving and stood very still with that magnificent smile directed at the people. He gave them a deep bow, held it for a moment, and then stepped back into line.