Miles To Go

by Beryl Young

  Then a feeling of doom comes over me. The feeling you get when you know you’ve done something wrong and you’re waiting to see if anything will happen. I decide to rearrange the things on my dresser. One by one, I move the pieces of the brush and comb dresser set I got last Christmas. I straighten the photograph of Dad. I study my face in the mirror, thinking that without glasses, my eyes are actually more violet than blue.

  Suddenly Mom’s angry face looms in the mirror behind me. “Into the kitchen … now.”

  I know I’m going to get it. I put my glasses back on and go as slowly as I can down the hall. Mom and Dad are sitting at the kitchen table. I stand in the doorway.

  “Get in here, Maggie,” Dad says in his stern police voice.

  I come closer, but they don’t suggest I sit.

  Dad starts. “We know you’ve been smoking with Jerry. I can’t believe you’d do such a thing.”

  Mom’s voice is strained. “What ever gave you the idea that it’s all right for a girl your age to smoke?”

  I stare right at her. “I’ve been watching you puff away since the day I was born.” Mom snaps her head back as though I’ve slapped her.

  “Adults can smoke. Children can’t. Where did you get the cigarettes?” Dad asks.

  “Over there,” I say, pointing to the shelf.

  “So, you stole them from us?” His mouth is a grimace, not like my dad at all.

  “I guess so.”

  That does it for Mom. “She guesses so!”

  “Tommy told you, didn’t he?” I yell.

  “Never mind who told us,” Dad says. “Our problem is how we’re going to teach you a lesson so you never do this again. You’re almost thirteen. We expect you to know enough not to steal and not to smoke.”

  I take a deep breath. It’s impossible to explain why I do things. I don’t understand them myself.

  Dad takes me by the arm, leads me into the living room, and tells me to sit on the chesterfield. “If smoking is what you want to do, then let’s see you with a real smoke. We’ll see how you handle it.”

  Dad goes to his desk and takes out a box of cigars from the middle drawer. I’ve only ever seen him smoke a cigar once. I remember I liked the smell of it.

  “Here, have one,” he says, tossing a fat brown cigar at me. He flicks a lighter and puts it to the cigar. “Now, start smoking that.”

  The cigar is huge in my mouth, but I intend to show him I can smoke it. I take a puff. You have to pull harder on a cigar. I blow out grey smoke toward Dad, who’s standing in front of me. I take another couple of puffs, lean back, cross my legs, and wave the cigar in the air. I’m trying to act sophisticated. Then I realize I don’t want to smoke it any more. I hold it out to Dad.

  He has a funny look on his face. “That’s not enough. Have some more.”

  I put my mouth around the cigar and draw in, but this time, it doesn’t feel good at all. I try to hand the cigar back to Dad.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t stop now. You like smoking so much, let’s see you keep going.”

  Through the cloud of smoke around me I see Tommy peering in from the doorway, his eyes wide. I take another puff, but this time it’s too much and I know I’m going to throw up. I stub the cigar in the ashtray. “I’m going to my room now, Dad.”

  “Hope you enjoyed the cigar, Maggie,” he says, looking at me steadily.

  “It was different,” I say as I get up out of the chair. He’s not going to know how sick I feel. I saunter out of the room, my head spinning, and nearly fall over Tommy in the doorway.

  “Get out of my way, you squealer,” I croak as I smack him across the chest and rush to the bathroom—where I throw up.

  Anna

  THURSDAY, MAY 27

  PAPA REMEMBERED MY birthday today and everyone sang “Happy Birthday” at the breakfast table, the little girls singing their hearts out.

  “My kid sister is a teenager!” Joe said. “Hard to believe.”

  “You’re the best,” Berny says, giving me a punch in the arm.

  After the boys have left for school and the girls are playing in the living room, Dad calls me over to the kitchen table. “Anna, a woman from the Welfare Department is coming. Ten o’clock this morning.”

  “Why? What does she want?” My heart is thundering.

  He takes a long breath. “Lucy and Helen will live in town with a foster mother.”

  I can’t believe I’ve heard right. “What do you mean? What does foster mean? Someone’s taking the girls away?”

  Dad can’t look at me. “It is for the best, Anna. I have decided. The woman from Welfare helped. You must pack the girls’ clothes.”

  I feel as though I’ve been hit over the head. “What do you mean you have decided? No one asked me. I won’t let anyone take my sisters away.”

  “It is done, Anna. Bring down the clothes.”

  “I won’t do it.” I go over and sit by the girls. They look scared.

  Papa pulls me to my feet. “Upstairs now, Anna. You stay here, girls.”

  I turn to go and yell, “Mama would hate you for this! I hate you for this!”

  My body feels numb and my legs move mechanically as I climb the stairs to the girls’ bedroom. We don’t own a suitcase, so I get a cardboard box and put the few clothes they have in the box, the dirty clothes mixed in with the clean. I put in a hairbrush and sweaters and a rag doll the girls play with. They make a pathetic pile in the bottom of the cardboard box. I hear someone at the outside door and go slowly down the stairs, carrying the half-empty box.

  A dumpy woman in a grey coat is talking to Helen and Lucy. They stare at her.

  “You’ll have a car ride to your new home in town,” I hear the woman say. “You’ll like Mrs. Brooks. She has a new doll for each of you.”

  The girls turn to look at me, and I can see they’re torn. They’re confused about what’s happening, but I can see they’re also excited at the thought of new dolls.

  Helen asks, “Can we take our blocks with us?”

  “I guess so,” I say. I try not to let them see how upset I am. Helen and I gather the blocks and put them on top of the clothes.

  I pass the cardboard box to the woman, who smiles at me. “Anna, your father told me you’ve done a good job keeping the family together these past weeks. This new arrangement will be for the best for your sisters. Mrs. Brooks loves children. She’s one of our best foster mothers.”

  “We love children here too,” I say, looking right at her.

  “I know that, Anna. Mrs. Brooks asked me to tell you that you’ll always be welcome in her home. You can visit whenever you like. You won’t lose touch with the girls.”

  I hear the words, but I can’t believe the enormity of what’s happening. And it’s happening today. My birthday! The woman’s firm manner tells me Helen and Lucy will be leaving the house with her.

  She takes Helen’s hand and leads her out to the car. Papa picks Lucy up and puts her in the back seat beside Helen. The Welfare woman is about to shut the car door.

  “no!” I say loudly. They all stare at me.

  This is my chance to stop her. But how can I? If I drag the girls out of the car, I’ll upset them. Papa will just put them back.

  “Wait!” I call, leaning into the back seat. “I want a big hug from both of you.”

  “Love you, Anna,” Helen says, and Lucy leans over to plant a wet kiss on my cheek.

  “Be good girls,” I say, choking on the words.

  PAPA PUTS HIS arm around my shoulder as we watch the car turn onto the road, taking my little sisters away. I shake him off and go back into the house, where Bella has started to cry. I go upstairs to change her and then bring her down. Dad’s outside chopping wood.

  Bella and I wander around the house. It feels like an empty barn. No little girls running around, no little voices calling me. I look at their hand-me-down boots by the door. I forgot to put them in the box. A dim light from the window falls in an empty square on the rug where my sister
s had been sitting with their blocks.

  The girls were taken away so quickly. They went so easily. They were so good, doing what they were told. They even smiled at me from the back seat of the car. But they are my sisters and I was looking after them. Lucy’s just learning to talk and Helen’s so smart with all her questions.

  I realize I’m holding Bella too tightly as I walk around. She wants to wiggle and kick, so I put her on the blanket on the floor while I wash the breakfast dishes and heat soup for lunch.

  Papa comes back in and sits at the table watching Bella doing her air crawl, flailing her arms and legs like a windmill.

  I put two bowls of soup on the table and sit down beside him. “How could you do this? How could you let that woman take the girls away?”

  “I ask the Welfare people to do it, Anna.”

  “Why, Papa? It wasn’t too hard for me.”

  Then I remember crying the other day when I burned my hand. Crying and saying everything was wrong.

  “It’s my fault, isn’t it? I was exhausted that day. The day I hurt my hand. I didn’t mean I couldn’t take care of them. It’s because I complained that day, isn’t it?”

  “It is not, Anna. I could not let you go on. You are too young.”

  “I didn’t want you to take them away.”

  “It was my decision.” Papa pours himself another cup of coffee and sits back down. He seems nervous. I wonder why he’s not going outside. I pick Bella up and rock her.

  I’m staring out the window when another car drives up. A man and a woman get out and come to our door. I think they must have turned off the main road and are lost. At the knock, Papa jumps up and goes to let them in. He invites them to sit on the sofa, and I notice the woman is staring at Bella.

  Papa turns to me. “The Woodmans will take Bella to their home in the United States.”

  “Oh no! They can’t!” I hold Bella tighter. “They can’t take our baby!”

  “It is for the best, Anna. We have to let her go.”

  The woman pulls a pink baby sweater and bonnet out of her bag and hands it to me. “I knitted these for Bella,” she says. “Why not try them on her?”

  I have the wild thought of clutching Bella and running out the door. I could run along the creek and out to the main road. But then where? Where could I take her? A girl and a baby. There’s no place for us to go. Papa would come and get me. I’m not strong enough to fight him.

  My hands shake as I put the sweater and bonnet on Bella and tie the ribbons under her dimpled chin. Both the man and the woman are watching with wide smiles. The woman leans over and says, “Hello, little girl.”

  Bella smiles back at the woman.

  I can’t stand it.

  “Pack Bella’s things, Anna,” Papa says.

  “You can’t make me do that!” I yell.

  I rush up to Papa and scream in his face, “Don’t let them take Bella away. Mama wouldn’t want it.”

  A storm is raging in my head. I turn to the woman. “Don’t do this to our family. I hate you for coming here. You are not taking our baby. I won’t let you. Go away!”

  The woman and her husband stop smiling and look at Papa.

  “It is decided, Anna,” he says. “I have signed papers.”

  He grips my arm and leads me to the stairs. “Get Bella’s things now.”

  I shake him off and pick Bella up. I rush up the stairs, almost tripping. I put her down on the bed. How can I fight my father? I start putting Bella’s few clothes in a cloth bag. I look over at her every minute. She’s waving her arms and blowing little bubbles out of her mouth. She looks adorable in the pink sweater.

  As I come down the stairs, I keep kissing Bella’s face. Papa tries to lift her out of my arms. I hold tighter. “Please, please, Papa, don’t do this. You can’t give Bella away. I beg you with all my heart not to do this.”

  “Quiet, Anna.” Papa pries Bella out of my arms. He passes her to the woman. The couple turn and start to walk out the door, the woman carrying Bella. My father just stands there.

  I reach up and pound him on the chest with both fists. “Stop them, Papa. Stop them! You can’t let them do this.”

  He grabs my hands and holds them in his. “Do not hit me, Anna.”

  I stand there helplessly as the man and woman get in the car. The doors close and the car drives away, taking Bella with them. I stare at the empty road.

  Papa turns me back into the house. He pushes me into a chair at the kitchen table. I’m breathing hard.

  “It is for the best, Anna.”

  “I can’t let her go! Bella’s so little!” I scream into my father’s face. “I can’t believe you’d let strangers take our baby away. You’re making me break the promise I made to my mother.”

  “It is done, Anna.”

  The look on his face tells me it’s too late. I’ve lost. I put my head on my arms and sob until my whole body hurts. I lift my head, and he’s still sitting across from me. There are tears in his eyes.

  I glare at him. “This is the worst thing you could ever do to me. It’s my birthday, and my life is over.”

  “Listen to me, Anna. I could not let you go on. You wear yourself out. You need school. To have life with people your own age. And you can see Helen and Lucy when you’re in town.”

  “But I’ve lost Bella …” I wail.

  Papa sighs. “It is done, Anna.” He goes outside, shutting the door behind him.

  I hurl myself face down on the couch. I’m in a place I’ve never been before. My whole body is shaking. The terrible wailing sounds are coming from me.

  When the boys come in from school, they rush over to me. Papa has met them, and they know their sisters have been taken away.

  “Oh, Anna. I can’t believe it,” Berny says, sitting down beside me.

  Joe says, “It had to happen, Anna. There was too much work for you to manage. We could all see that.”

  “Then why didn’t you help me? Now I’ve broken my promise to Mama!” I yell at him.

  I run upstairs to be alone, where no one can try to comfort me. There will be no happiness in my life after this. I will never forget this birthday to my dying day. If I can’t have the girls, I don’t want to live.

  Maggie

  SATURDAY, MAY 29

  IT’S SATURDAY, and Dad calls me to the phone. Since the smoking disaster, he’s stopped calling me Mags.

  To my surprise, it’s Anna calling from the pay phone downtown. She’s in Deep Creek with her father and wants us to meet at the school yard.

  I run all the way there. I’m gasping for breath when I reach her. She’s sitting on the steps of the deserted school. I wipe my steamed-up glasses on the leg of my shorts and plop myself down beside her.

  Then I realize Anna’s crying hard.

  “Anna, what’s wrong?”

  She has her hands over her face, and tears run out between her fingers. It’s something terrible.

  When she can finally talk, her words come slowly. “Two days ago, on my birthday… a woman came from the Welfare Department … she took Lucy and Helen away.”

  Anna stops to take a breath. “She marched into the house … just took the girls away. I didn’t even get to brush their hair.”

  I’m horrified. It was my father who made this happen. I heard him talking about Mr. Lozowski on the phone. He was making arrangements for this.

  “Anna, I’m so sorry.”

  “Then something worse happened.” She wipes her wet hands on her slacks.

  What could be worse?

  “Right after that, a man and his wife drove up in their car … They took Bella away! Papa made me pack up her things.” Her sobs echo against the brick wall and over the empty playground.

  “Oh no! They can’t do that.” I feel cold all over.

  Anna takes big gulps of air. “That’s what I said to Papa … He said it was for the best. He said I wasn’t managing.”

  She shakes her head. “I was managing, Maggie. I was tired one day and
complained to him. It’s my own fault.”

  But I know it was my father’s fault. That’s something Anna must never find out.

  Anna lifts her head, a defeated look on her face that’s all puffy from crying. “They made me break my promise to my mother.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry.”

  “Dad told me I can visit Helen and Lucy in town. He says I can go back to school too.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “I’m too unhappy to think about going back to school.”

  “What about Bella? Will you be able to visit her?”

  “No, that’s the worst thing. The people who adopted her live in the United States. It’s a huge country. I’ll never see Bella again.” Anna catches her breath and wipes her streaming wet face. “She was doing so well. You remember her great smiles. She smiled so early.”

  “The people who took her, what were they like?”

  “The woman spoke to Bella in a quiet voice. The man didn’t take his eyes off her. Dad says they had a baby girl who died before she was a year old. They were in Canada trying to find a baby.”

  Anna slumps against me. She hasn’t mentioned my father. She can never know he’s responsible for this terrible thing. I’ll have to keep this huge secret to myself for the rest of my life.

  I put my arm around her. “You’ll be able to come into town so we can get together, won’t you?”

  “Yes, when I get the chores done.”

  “Come to my place whenever you can.”

  Anna brightens a little. “Miss Alexander came out to the farm yesterday. She knew about the girls being taken away. If I work hard in the next month, she says I’ll go into high school with you and the rest of the class.”

  “I’ll help you. It’ll be easy for us. And you’re a whiz at arithmetic.”

  She tries to smile, but it’s a weak smile that doesn’t make her look happy. I walk with Anna to the service station on Front Street, where she’s arranged to meet her father. When we say goodbye, I wonder if I’ll ever hear her laugh again. But how can I ever laugh again with a Judas for a father?