All My Tomorrows

by Al Lacy

  Officer Vince Paddock nodded. “Johnny, I’ve been out West in Nebraska, Colorado, and Wyoming. The lawmen out there are a breed of their own. Because you’re Justin’s son, I think you’d fit in and make a great one.”

  “We’ll see what happens, sir.”

  “Well, Mr. Stanfill,” said Dan McNally, “we’ve got to get back to headquarters.”

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” Johnny said.

  The officers wished Johnny their best and left.

  Wayne Stanfill said, “Well, let’s get you settled into a room. We’re very crowded here, so you’ll be in a room with nine other boys. There are only six bunks, so you’ll have to sleep on the floor with three of them.”

  “That’s all right, sir. I won’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

  “Good. Some of the boys in that room will be going on the train with you. It will give you a chance to get to know them before you board the train together.”

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  Stanfill guided Johnny down the hall to the room that was occupied by Teddy Hansen, Jerry Varnell, Clint Albright, and the other six boys. They were sitting on the bunks talking when the superintendent stepped in with Johnny on his heels. “Boy’s, I’ve got another roommate for you. This is Johnny Smith. I told him he would have to sleep on the floor.”

  “Hi, Johnny,” said Teddy Hansen. “Jerry and Clint, along with me, sleep on the floor. We’ll make room for you with us at bedtime. My name’s Teddy.”

  Johnny smiled. “Thank you, Teddy.”

  Stanfill introduced Johnny to the rest of the boys, then told him he would send blankets and a pillow to him a little later.

  When the superintendent was gone, Jerry invited the new roommate to sit between him and Teddy. Johnny thanked him, and when he sat down, Jerry said, “How long have you been an orphan, Johnny?”

  “Well, I was a half-orphan for little more than a year, ’cause Mom died. Then my dad was killed just this past Monday.”

  “Tell us all about it, Johnny,” said Clint.

  Appreciating their warmth and interest, Johnny said, “How about you guys telling me how you became orphans, then I’ll tell you my story.”

  The boys agreed, and Johnny listened intently as he heard their heartrending stories. The last to tell his story was Teddy Hansen.

  Teddy started out by saying, “Johnny, I like the name Smith. It was Officer Justin Smith who rescued me from the streets.”

  Johnny felt a pang of pain in his heart, and it was all he could do to remain silent and keep from crying while Teddy told his story. Teddy said how his father had deserted him and his mother two years previously, then explained about his mother’s recent death and how his one aunt and both uncles didn’t want him. All the while Johnny fought the lump that was in his throat.

  Teddy ended his story, giving the details of how Officer Justin Smith had rescued him from the streets and brought him to the orphanage. When he finished, he saw tears coursing down Johnny’s cheeks. He frowned. “Did I say something that upset you, Johnny?”

  Johnny swallowed hard and drew a shaky breath. “Teddy, Officer Justin Smith was my father. He was killed on Monday, shooting it out with bank robbers in front of the Manhattan Bank.”

  Teddy’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he was your father. But now I recall. Your father told me he had a boy named Johnny who was twelve years old. Oh, I’m so sorry to hear this about him. He was such a great man.”

  Teddy’s words warmed Johnny’s heart, and he told himself that he and Teddy would become good friends. He hoped Teddy would be one of the boys who would go on the orphan train. “Teddy, Dad told me about you. He told me about the cut on your face from that kid punching you and having a ring on his finger. He told me your relatives didn’t want you and that he had brought you here.”

  Teddy thumbed away a tear and sniffed. “Like I said, your father was a great man.”

  When it was time for the boys to go outside for recreation, Johnny and Teddy walked together. Johnny felt good about the orphanage and the prospect of riding the orphan train out West to a new home.

  Chapter Four

  That evening, at the Silver Spoon Restaurant next door to the Central Bank and Trust Company some twelve blocks from the Children’s Aid Society’s headquarters, business was booming as usual.

  Cashier Lola Dickens was busy at the counter as satisfied customers paid for the meals. While waiting on the customers, Lola glanced at two auburn-haired teenage girls who were standing by themselves just inside the door. She noted that they were identical twins and quite pretty. Their coats were frayed and worn, and they held their stocking caps in their hands.

  Lola’s attention was drawn away from them as she finished dealing with a customer. When the next customer—an exceptionally tall, silver-haired man—was moving up to the counter, a closer look at the twins revealed that their faces were pinched from the cold and from something more. She greeted her customer, asking if everything was all right. He smiled and said the meal was excellent.

  At the same time the cashier was waiting on the tall man, the twins’ stomachs growled from hunger, and the tempting aroma of hot food coming from the nearby kitchen had set their mouths to watering.

  “It smells heavenly in here,” Donna Mitchell said in an undertone to her twin. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could get full simply by smelling the food?”

  Deena nodded. “If that were the case, my tummy would be bursting from all of the good smells in here.”

  At the counter, Lola Dickens had a break between customers and noted that the twins were still there. She headed around the end of the counter, looking straight at them.

  Donna whispered, “The cashier’s coming over here.”

  Deena looked at Lola from the corner of her eye. “I hope she’s friendly.”

  Lola drew up and smiled. “Are you girls waiting for someone?”

  “No, ma’am,” replied Donna. “We just came in out of the cold to get warm.”

  Lola sensed that there was more to it than stated. “What are your names, and where do you live?”

  Deena tried to smile. “I’m Deena Mitchell, ma’am, and this is my sister, Donna.”

  “And?”

  The twins exchanged nervous glances, and Deena said, “We … ah … don’t have an address right now, ma’am.”

  “Oh. I understand. You live on the streets, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Donna.

  Lola gave them a knowing look, which told them she had them figured out. “And you just came into the restaurant to get warm.”

  Deena cleared her throat gently. “Well, ma’am, we actually came in for two reasons. One was to get out of the cold. The other—the other was to ask if we could wash dishes or do some other kind of work in exchange for some food.”

  A troubled look came over Lola’s pleasant features. “My employer will not allow any of the street waifs to do any kind of work in the restaurant to earn meals or money. I’m sorry. How long have you girls been on the streets?”

  “Just a few days, ma’am,” said Donna. “Our parents cannot afford to feed or clothe us anymore, so they sent us out of their apartment. Our mother gave us each a dollar before sending us out on our own, but we spent the last of our money this morning for breakfast.”

  “So you’ve had nothing to eat today since breakfast.”

  “That’s right, ma’am.”

  “And you’ve been sleeping in a doorway or an alley somewhere.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ve been sleeping in a wooden crate in the alley behind Duggan’s Furniture Store over on Westmore Street.”

  Having come from a very poor family herself, Lola knew what it was like to be hungry and cold. Her heart went out to the twins. “Girls,” she said softly, “I’m sorry you have to live like this. You are nice girls and so polite. I want to help you. Wait right here. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Donna and Deena wat
ched as Lola moved toward another female employee who was standing near the counter. They heard her ask the woman to cover for her, saying she would be right back. She passed through a swinging door toward the kitchen, letting it swing shut behind her.

  A few minutes later, she returned with hot food in a paper bag and a small jug of water. Smiling, she handed the bag to Deena and the jug to Donna. “Here’s your supper.”

  “Oh, thank you, ma’am,” said Donna. “Thank you so very much!”

  “Yes, thank you, ma’am,” Deena said loudly, her eyes showing excess moisture. “This is very kind of you.”

  Lola looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen and put a vertical forefinger to her lips. “Sh-h-h! I could get in trouble with my boss for doing this, but I can’t let you go to bed in your wooden furniture crate with empty stomachs. But please understand … I can only take this chance once. I must ask you not to come back. If I get caught doing this I could lose my job, and believe me, I can’t afford for that to happen.”

  Donna furtively patted Lola’s hand and said in a low voice, “We understand. We won’t come back again.”

  “But thank you very much,” whispered Deena.

  Both girls put on their stocking caps and hurried out the door, eager to get to their makeshift home and devour the food that smelled so tempting.

  Lola stepped up to the steam-smeared window beside the door and watched the twins disappear into the cold night. She noticed it was starting to sleet, and her heart went out to them.

  Deena and Donna walked two blocks to Revere Street and turned into the alley that would lead them to the rear of Duggan’s Furniture Store in the next block. They stopped when they saw some other street waifs gathered around a fire about halfway down the alley.

  Donna whispered, “I’d like to eat by the warmth of that fire, sis, but they’d probably take this food away from us. Let’s go on around the block.”

  The twins made their way in the driving sleet to the next cross street and headed in the direction of the furniture store. When they reached the alley, they sat on the cold stone doorstep at the back of the furniture store, next to their wooden crate. The door was recessed and offered shelter from the falling sleet. By the light that came from a street lamp at the end of the alley, they took the food out of the paper bag.

  While they were eating, Donna said, “Sis, I know we’re terribly hungry, but we don’t have any idea when we will get more food. We’d better save some of this for tomorrow.”

  Deena swallowed a mouthful and peered at her sister. “I’m really hungry, sis. Maybe we’ll hit it good tomorrow and get more food.”

  “And maybe we won’t. We need to ration this food and make it last as long as we can. Let’s measure out how much to eat right now. We’ll fill ourselves up with water when we’ve eaten tonight’s ration.”

  Deena nodded. “I know you’re right, sis. I just got tired of my stomach growling at me all day today.”

  “Well, maybe we’ll find jobs and better shelter soon, but for now, let’s eat sparingly.”

  The freezing rain began to fall harder and the wind grew stronger. The twins hurried to finish the food they had allotted themselves, gulped down the rest of the water, then climbed into the furniture crate, dropped the lid, and snuggled close to exchange body heat.

  Deena began to sniffle.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” asked Donna.

  “I … I can’t understand how Papa and Mama could put us out on the streets. If they love us, how could they do it?”

  Donna was quiet for a moment, then said, “In all fairness, sis, we have to agree that Mama loves us. I don’t think Papa does, but it’s obvious that Mama is afraid of him. She knows if she angers him, he might just walk out and leave her and the children. She would have no way of providing for them.”

  “Mama has shown her love for us. I shouldn’t have included her. It’s Papa who doesn’t love us. And Mama is definitely afraid of him. We’ve both seen her cower before him whenever he so much as raises his voice. And besides, she certainly isn’t well. She’s so thin, and her cough has seemed to worsen since she had that cold back in January.”

  “Mm-hmm. And maybe she really did figure she was doing us a favor by letting us go. I can’t help but worry about her and our brothers and sisters.”

  Deena sniffed and wiped tears from her cheeks in the dark. “I’m afraid for us too, sis. Surviving isn’t going to be easy.”

  “No, it won’t, honey,” said Donna, squeezing her tight. “But at least we have each other.”

  “Yes. I’m so thankful I have you. If you were ever taken from me, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “That’s not going to happen. We’ll always be together. And somehow, we’re going to survive this ordeal.”

  “Right. We’ll just take it one day at a time. Maybe tomorrow we ought to try another restaurant where we can beg for some food.”

  “We can try,” Donna said, “but there aren’t going to be very many people like the lady who fed us tonight. We’d probably be better off to do like so many of the street children do: beg for money from the people who pass by on the sidewalks.”

  Deena thought on it a moment. “I think you’re right, sis. That’s what we’ll do. I’ve noticed that most of the street beggars stand on the corners so they can approach people coming from four directions.”

  “Right. Let’s use the corner that’s closest to us. We’ll start in the morning.”

  “Okay. I hope this icy rain stops before then.”

  “Me too. There’ll be more people on the streets if—”

  Donna’s words were cut off by the sound of footsteps in the alley and the low sound of male voices. They gripped each other, and Deena whispered, “I’m scared!”

  “Me too!”

  The girls clung to each other and listened intently as the footsteps and voices came closer. Soon the footsteps drew up to the crate, and a deep male voice said, “How ’bout thish here crate, Dub?”

  A hand took hold of the lid and shook the crate. “I don’ know, Ralph. It’sh purdy husky. Without an ax, we wouldn’ be able to shplit it up for—” he hiccupped—“the fire.”

  Ralph’s hand took hold of the lid too. “Aw, we could busht it up shomehow.”

  The hearts of the twins were pounding with terror. These men were obviously drunk. If they were looking for firewood, they also lived on the streets. They could be dangerous.

  The girls were trembling, hardly able to breathe.

  They jumped when Dub’s fist slammed down on the lid. “Le’sh forgit it, Ralph. C’mon. We’ll fin’ somep’n better than thish ol’ crate.”

  When the footsteps diminished in sound as did the voices, both girls released a sigh of relief.

  The wind eased up, and the sound of sleet pelting the lid of the crate lessened. The twins fell asleep, clinging to each other.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, Deena was awakened by the sound of her sister whimpering. Reaching out in the darkness, she touched a tear-soaked cheek. “Donna, what’s wrong?”

  Donna took hold of the hand that was touching her cheek and squeezed it. “I … I had a dream.”

  “You mean a nightmare?”

  “No. It wasn’t a nightmare. I dreamed that Mama and Papa had come here into the alley and found us. They were crying and said they were sorry for sending us away as they did, and wanted us to come home. Oh, Deena, it was so wonderful! Papa hugged us and told us he loved us.”

  Deena made a groaning sound deep in her throat. “That was a dream, all right. Then what? Did we go home with them?”

  “Yes, only it was all different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When they took us home, it wasn’t to that tiny flat, but to a large, beautiful house on Long Island with a huge yard. The house had several bedrooms. Our brothers and sisters were there to greet us. We had a good time hugging, then Papa and Mama led us into a great big dining room. The table was loaded with food, and—and,
well, this is when I woke up.”

  “Mmm. Well, it was a beautiful dream, sis … but only a dream. We’re still in this furniture crate in the alley behind Duggan’s Furniture store. And we still have to worry about being able to beg enough money to buy the food we need to keep us alive.”

  “Yes. I know.”

  The twins clung to each other, wept together, and finally cried themselves to sleep.

  The next morning Charles Loring Brace was at his desk at the Children’s Aid Society headquarters when there was a light tap on the office door. “Yes, Ivy?”

  Ivy Daniels opened the door and smiled. “Mr. Brace, there’s a messenger here from Central Bank and Trust. He says bank president Lee Kottman sent him to give you a message.”

  Brace rose from his desk chair. “Please bring him in.”

  Ivy turned and motioned to an unseen person behind her, and presently a thin, silver-haired man appeared. “Mr. Brace, I’m Harold Wiggins, Central Bank’s messenger.”

  “Please come in, Mr. Wiggins. Mrs. Daniels said you have a message from Mr. Kottman.”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Kottman asked me to see you personally and advise you that he wants to see you at his office as soon as possible. He would also like for Mrs. Brace to be with you.”

  “Well, of course. She’s at home, but I can drive over there and pick her up. We’ll be there within forty to forty-five minutes.”

  “Fine, sir. I’ll head right back and let Mr. Kottman know.”

  As Charles Brace helped Letitia into the buggy in front of their modest home, she said, “What do you suppose this is about, darling?”

  “I have no idea. I doubt if the messenger knows, so I didn’t bother to ask him. We’ll know in a little while.”

  Brace rounded the buggy, climbed into the seat, and put the horse to a trot. The streets were still a bit wet from the sleet storm the night before, but the sun was shining down from a clear sky, and the puddles were slowly drying up. Thirty minutes later, they drew up in front of the Central Bank and Trust Company. Brace parked the buggy at the curb, hopped out, and tied the reins to a post. He helped Letitia out, and together they walked into the lobby of the bank.