A Family Apart

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A Family Apart Page 5

by Joan Lowery Nixon


  Frances looked from the judge to her mother and back again, waiting for someone to say something. Ma’s gaze didn’t falter as she stood quietly, meeting the judge’s look with shoulders back and chin held high.

  The judge carefully studied each of the Kellys in turn, scowling and rubbing his chin as he tried to make up his mind.

  It seemed forever before he finally turned to Reverend Brace. “Is all of what Mrs. Kelly told me true, to your knowledge, sir?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Reverend Brace said. “I have agreed to place all her children in new homes.”

  The judge hit his gavel on the desk with such force that Frances winced. “Then I hereby release Michael Kelly to your care.” He scowled again, this time at Mike. “As for you, young man,” he said, “if you do not prove worthy of a new home, if you must be sent back, then you’ll find yourself residing in Tombs Prison with others of your kind!”

  Before Ma could thank the judge, he waved them away and called for the next prisoner to be brought before him. They were shepherded out of the courtroom into the hallway, and soon an officer brought Mike to them.

  “It’s eternally grateful I am to you,” Ma said to Reverend Brace. “Michael will prove your trust in him. Of that, I’m sure.” She put a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “I want your solemn promise, Michael Patrick Kelly, that you will never be a pickpocket again.”

  “I promise you, Ma,” Mike said. “I already promised the same thing to myself.” His chin began to tremble, and he flung himself against his mother, hugging her around the waist.

  Ma thrust the parcel at Reverend Brace. “Here are their belongings. Mike’s book, a few toys, some clothes.” For a moment she seemed to falter. “They own very little.”

  “He’s not taking us now, Ma! We’re going home, aren’t we?” Frances’s heart pounded so loudly it made her dizzy. Reverend Brace rested a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away from him.

  Ma shook her head. “There’s not time. Reverend Brace has arranged for you to join the children leaving today. Besides, it would be harder for all of us if you went home. It’s much better this way.” Her eyes shimmered as she added, “Believe me, love.”

  “No!” Frances shouted. “You can’t do this!”

  “Why are you sending us away?” Danny cried. “Is it because of what Mike did? He won’t do it again, Ma. You heard him promise!”

  “It’s my fault. I’m this family’s bad-luck penny,” Megan whispered. She leaned against Frances and began to sob.

  “It’s not your fault! Ma’s to blame!” Frances said, but Megan and Danny’s outbursts of tears had set off the little ones, and no one heard her.

  Ma tried to quiet Peg and Petey, who clung to her in desperation. She looked up to Frances. “Help me, love. Help me to make them understand.”

  “No!” Frances steeled herself against the hurt and astonishment in her mother’s eyes. “I won’t help you, because I don’t understand, either!” Da’s face suddenly came into her mind. He wouldn’t have let this happen. It had nearly killed her to lose Da, and now she would be losing Ma, too. And at Ma’s own wish! She clenched her teeth, fighting the tears away, then met her mother’s gaze with all the strength and anger she possessed. “How can a mother give away her own children?” she demanded.

  Ma gripped Frances’s shoulders and stared into her eyes. “You heard what I told the judge. It’s because I can’t provide you with the good home you should have. I can’t keep the boys from the streets. I can’t fill your stomachs with good food. It’s the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do, Frances, but it’s a sacrifice that must be made.”

  “You don’t love us enough to keep us.”

  “Oh, Frances Mary, don’t you realize? It’s because I love you so much that I am able to send you away!”

  Frances didn’t speak. She didn’t move to touch her mother, even though a part of her ached to do it. If you loved someone, you kept that person close. You didn’t send someone you cared about away to live among strangers. She couldn’t understand her mother’s mixed-up thinking. Her entire body ached with shock and confusion, and she clenched her teeth against the pain.

  “When must we leave?” practical Megan whispered.

  “Now,” Ma said, and she knelt to enfold her children.

  “Please, Ma, no!” Megan sobbed.

  Peg, her small freckled face blotchy from tears, hiccupped with dry sobs and clung tightly to one of Ma’s legs. Danny and Mike were pale, pressed shoulder to shoulder for support, just the way they had been after Da had died. This was like another death, Frances thought, only she felt as if she were the one who had died. All that was left of her was a hard, cold emptiness that had eaten away everything else inside her.

  “I don’t want to go away from you!” Petey wrapped his arms tightly around Ma’s neck.

  “My darling lad, it’s for the best,” Ma murmured, and Frances could hear Ma’s voice tremble with the tears she was holding back.

  Ma wiped away Petey’s tears and tried to cheer him with a smile, but even when she smiled her face looked lined and exhausted.

  “Reverend Brace told me that you’ll have wholesome food, and a clean bed of your own, and schooling, and all sorts of fine things, the like of which I could never, ever give you, no matter how hard we work,” Ma said.

  “But I won’t have you!” Petey wailed.

  “You’ll have Frances,” Ma told him. She looked up at Frances. “It’s a special care this littlest one will be needing,” she said, “and it’s you I’ll be counting on to give it.”

  Frances just stared back. She wanted to tell her mother how lonely and hurt she was, but the words had frozen in her throat.

  “Frances Mary Kelly.” Her mother stood to face her, and her voice was firm and strong again. “I want your promise.”

  Frances nodded, and now her voice matched her mother’s in its strength and determination. “I promise,” she said. “And I also promise that I’ll do my best to be mother to these children in place of the mother who doesn’t want them.”

  “Can’t you understand how much it hurts me to see you go?”

  “No!” Frances cried. For a moment she wavered. “I can’t. I love you, Ma, and I thought you loved me. I can’t understand how you could give us away, and I’ll never forgive you. Never!”

  “Oh!” Ma took a step backward, holding her hands to her cheeks and flinching as though she’d been struck. “Frances Mary, you’ve never in your life spoken such angry words to me.”

  Frances just shook her head, unable to say another word. She knew she’d begin to cry uncontrollably if she tried to speak again.

  Ma’s voice was heavy with sorrow. “You, Frances—you who’ve been my strength in so many ways, so many times—it’s sure I’ve been that I could count on you, sure that you’d understand.”

  Frances desperately longed to reach out and hold her mother, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  Reverend Brace stepped forward and took Peg and Petey by the hand. Peg, her lower lip trembling, tried to tug her hand away, but Petey just stared at Ma, his big blue eyes spilling over with tears. “It’s time to go now,” Reverend Brace said.

  Gently, Ma touched each child, one by one, with her fingertips. “It won’t be forever, Danny,” she whispered. “We’ll someday be together again. Mike, you’re a good, brave lad, and you’ve got a chance now to prove yourself.” She smiled. “Remember that I’ll always believe in you.”

  She paused with her hands on Megan’s head, as though she were giving a blessing. “My darlin’, gentle girl, you’re the one who might take this the hardest. Just remember that you come from a strong, sturdy people, who down through the years have had the courage to do what must be done. And Peg—”

  Frances could hear the catch in Ma’s voice as she stroked Peg’s cheek. “Peg, love, there’s so much joy in you always spilling out, it will make the going easy. Oh, how I’ll miss that happy laughter.”

  “Ma,” Petey whimpered, and
Ma bent to hold his face between her hands. “You have nothing to fear, lad. Frances will keep a special watch on you. You’re so young, all this will soon be tucked in a far corner of your mind.” Frances could barely hear her mother’s whisper. “Oh, Petey, don’t completely forget your ma!”

  Ma rose. “One last kiss before we say good-bye,” she said and turned to Frances, holding her tightly. “I know that someday you’ll understand and forgive me, love,” she murmured. “If I didn’t know that, I couldn’t bear to see you hurt this way.”

  Frances’s cheek was damp as her mother’s tears mingled with her own, but still she didn’t speak. Finally Ma let go, her eyes brimming with moisture. Ma’s gaze fell on each of her children one more time, then she blew them all a kiss and turned away. Frances watched her mother stride down the hall and desperately fought against the panic that made her want to run screaming after Ma. At the corner of the hall Ma paused, glancing back for just a second before she disappeared from sight.

  “Don’t leave us, Ma!” Frances whispered. “I want to stay with you! I don’t want any part of life in the West!”

  5

  INSIDE THE CHILDREN’S Aid Society building on Amity Street was a long bench on which the children were told to sit. On a table near the front door was a pile of freshly ironed dresses, shirts, trousers, stockings, and under-clothes. Frances could read the note that was pinned on top of the pile: “A donation for the children.”

  “Please be seated,” Reverend Brace said. He smiled reassuringly. “Mrs. Minton will join us in a few minutes, and you’ll soon meet the other children who’ll make the trip with you.”

  “Will you go to the West with us?” Peg asked, her voice wobbling. She clung to his hand.

  Mr. Brace gently removed her hand from his and patted it. “No,” he said. “I’m needed here in New York. But you’ll have two fine people who’ll take care of you during your trip. Mr. Andrew MacNair is my scout. It’s his job to find good farm families who will adopt you. And helping him on this trip is Mrs. Katherine Banks, who runs a general store in the town of St. Joseph.”

  “St. Joseph is a town?” Danny blurted out in surprise.

  “In Missouri,” Mr. Brace answered. “That’s your destination.”

  Frances had a question of her own. “Please, Reverend Brace,” she said, “can you tell me about my friend, Mara Robi?”

  “Of course,” he said and looked down the hall. “Mrs. Minton should be here at any moment. If you don’t mind waiting alone, I’ll go to my office and check with someone who will know exactly how Mara is doing.”

  The children squeezed together on the bench. No one seemed to feel like talking. Next to the bench was an open door to an office, and Frances could easily hear the conversation between a man and two women inside the room.

  “I brought some clothes I collected for the poor, dear orphans,” a woman announced.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Marsh.” This voice belonged to a younger woman.

  “How many boys and how many girls will you take on this trip, Mr. MacNair?” Mrs. Marsh asked.

  “I haven’t made a tally yet,” the man said. “But I think we’ll have more boys than girls, which is good. It’s always easier to place boys, because boys can help with the outdoor farm chores. Some families will even take two children from a family if they’re boys.”

  Frances took a quick breath. She had heard her mother speak of homes, but she had been so upset and distracted that she hadn’t realized what Ma had meant. They were going to be separated!

  Frances knew that Megan, Mike, and Danny had understood, too. Megan gave a little whimper and shivered as she nuzzled closer to her sister.

  “We’ll stick together, you and me, huh, Mike?” Frances heard Danny whisper, and she sighed at the desperate hope in his voice.

  “What ages are the children?” the woman asked.

  “All ages,” Mr. MacNair said, “up to our top age limit of fourteen.”

  A frantic jumble of thoughts tossed through Frances’s head. What was she going to do? She had promised to take special care of Petey. She had to keep Petey with her. She raised a hand and fingered her long hair. Ma had loved that hair, which was just the color of her mother’s.

  After the sound of shuffling papers and a squeaking chair, Mr. MacNair said, “Let’s see if Charles has returned. I have some questions to ask him.”

  The women and man left the office, smiling at the children as they passed them. After a quick glance, Frances looked away. She hoped they hadn’t noticed her. She kept a sharp watch. As soon as they had disappeared into a room near the end of the hallway, Frances jumped to her feet. She pulled her hand away from Petey, then pried off his fingers as he clutched at her skirt.

  “Listen to me!” she whispered, and they all did, recognizing the urgency in her voice. “I’m going outside for just a few minutes. When I come back I’ll look different, and I want all of you to call me Frankie. Frances is all right, if you forget, because that can be a boy’s name, too. But whatever you do, don’t call me Frances Mary!”

  “But, what—?” Peg began, as she squirmed on the bench.

  “Peg!” Frances interrupted. “Pay attention. This is important. I’m going to dress like a boy. You must remember. I’ll be Frankie, your brother, not your sister!”

  Megan’s eyes were wide. “You can’t do that!” she said.

  “For a little while I can. Just for a while.”

  “Why?” Danny asked.

  “So Petey and I can stay together,” Frances said. “If it’s boys to do the chores that those farm families are wanting, then it’s a boy I’ll become.” Frances paused and added, “Will you remember my new name, Petey?”

  His eyes suddenly sparkled with mischief. “Is this a game?”

  “No. It’s not a game,” Frances said. “You must not forget.” She turned to the others. “Will all of you remember?”

  Megan, Peg, and Danny nodded, but Mike laughed “Just how are you going to look like a boy, with that long hair and those skirts?”

  “Do you still have your pocketknife?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then give it to me quickly,” Frances said. With the knife in her hand, she ran to the table of clothing and snatched up a boy’s cotton shirt and trousers. Then she ran out the door and around the corner of the building to the alley. Dropping the clothing to the ground, Frances quickly opened the knife, grabbed a hank of her long hair, then shuddered at the sound of the metal blade raggedly cutting through the thick, resistant mass.

  In a few minutes Frances, dressed in boys’ clothes, hair cropped short, raced back into the building. She stopped short when she saw the plump, gray-haired woman who stood in front of the bench and held her breath, waiting to see how the woman would react to her. Petey and Peg were sniffling, and Megan was pale, her eyes dark and frightened. Her brothers and sisters stared with astonishment as Frances quickly slid next to them on the bench.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Frances said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. “I—uh—had to go outside.”

  “It’s all right,” the woman said. She studied a small sheet of paper, then looked up and smiled at Megan. “You must be Frances Mary, dear. Reverend Brace told me to inform you that your friend, Mara, is still in the hospital, but she is recovering nicely.”

  Megan quickly glanced at her sister. Frances’s joy and relief about Mara were dampened by fear that her disguise would be found out. Quickly she stammered, “I’m Francis, and it’s not Mary, it’s—uh—Martin. But forget the ‘Martin’ part. Just call me Frankie.”

  Mrs. Minton stared hard at the paper. “My, my,” she said. “The handwriting doesn’t look that hard to read.”

  Mike gave Frances a hard clip on the shoulder, and she winced. “She thinks you look like a girl, Frankie. Huh! Where are your pretty curls?”

  Frances landed a sock on Mike’s arm before he could lean out of the way, and Mrs. Minton quickly said, “Don’t do that, boys! You can’t behave like that
around here!”

  “I don’t look like a girl!” Frances muttered as fiercely as she could.

  “Of course you don’t,” Mrs. Minton said. “Somewhere there was a mistake in this list of names, and it’s certainly not your fault.”

  Peg stood, her chin held high. “I am Margaret Ann Kelly,” she announced proudly, “no matter what that paper says, but everybody calls me ‘Peg.’ ”

  Mrs. Minton went on to meet the other Kelly children, one by one, then smoothed the long white apron that covered her dark cotton dress. “I know this is a difficult experience for you children, so I’ll try to make it easier by explaining what we’re going to do.”

  Peg sniffled, and Mrs. Minton said, “Don’t cry, dear. Think about the pretty new dress you’ll soon be wearing.” She smiled and patted Peg’s shoulder, handing her a small, lacy handkerchief before she continued. “To begin with, my name is Mrs. Minton. I’m going to see that each of you has a nice warm bath. I’ll expect you boys to use plenty of soap on your hair, too, and I’ll help the girls.” She stared for a moment at Frances’s hair. “I’m very good at trimming hair. You’ll want to start your journey with a nice tidy haircut, won’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Frances stuttered. A bath? Oh, no! She’d be discovered before they even left New York! She felt a hot blush creep over her neck and face, and she ducked her head. Mike snickered so softly that only Frances could hear it, and she answered by poking her elbow into his ribs.

  They were led to the bathing rooms for boys and for girls. Frances hesitated at the door to the boys’ room, but Mike shoved her, and she stumbled inside to find the room empty.

  “The other children have already bathed,” Mrs. Minton said. “There’s plenty of hot water in the tub, and be sure to wash well behind your ears. You’ll find clothes and shoes in all sizes on the shelves along the far wall. If you want any help, just call.”

  “We won’t need any help!” Frances said quickly.

  “Then I’ll lend a hand to the girls. As soon as you’ve dressed, just open the door, and I’ll return,” Mrs. Minton said. She shut the door behind her as she left.

 

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