Searching for You

by Jody Hedlund

  The children quieted, sat back in their seats, and focused on Reverend Poole. He wasn’t young like Mr. Brady, but wasn’t as old as Mrs. Trott. The hair that showed beneath his stovepipe hat was sprinkled with some silver, though his mustache and sideburns were still dark and untouched by age. He wore round spectacles that made his eyes appear wide in his thin face. They were keen eyes but not unkind.

  “It is my greatest pleasure to welcome all you little ones of Christ on our journey together,” he said. “How many would like to have nice homes in the West, where you can see chickens and pigs and cows every day and have your fill of apples and melons and wild blackberries?”

  A chorus of chatter rose from the children, including Nicholas. “Chickens and pigs and cows?” he said, his eyes sparkling.

  “And how would you like to have both a mother and a father, two parents who love you very much and will provide you with everything you need—warm meals, hot baths, clean clothes, and even toys?”

  Again the children responded to Reverend Poole’s question enthusiastically. Even those who had started to look frightened and sad as the reality of the trip set in regained some of their initial excitement. Sophie guessed that Reverend Poole was once again displaying his expertise, knowing how to cheer the children at just the right time.

  Nicholas joined the clamor, clapping his hands and laughing.

  “Already your new mothers and fathers are preparing for you to arrive,” Reverend Poole continued louder. “They’re eagerly awaiting your coming so that they can give you homes.”

  Give you homes. Reverend Poole’s words were mesmerizing, almost magical. For a moment they carried Sophie away to a fairy-tale world where real families with mothers and fathers still lived together and loved their children, where they gathered around the table for a meal, where they laughed and talked in front of the warm hearth fire in the evening.

  The longing in Sophie for such a world rose sharply and swiftly, piercing her chest and reminding her of all she’d lost. If only her family had never left Germany. Maybe they’d still be happy together. She’d never understood why her father had lost customers to his bakery there and why he’d had to sell it. She knew it had something to do with a wealthy count who’d been angry with her father. But surely her father and mother could have worked things out if they’d tried harder.

  “I want a home, a mommy and daddy. And a puppy,” Nicholas said, his face now flushed with happiness. “The puppy can sleep with me. I’ll let him.”

  Sophie started to smile at the sweet picture of Nicholas and a puppy, but then the smile froze at the realization that Nicholas believed he was just like the other children on the train, awaiting adoption into a new family. Sophie hadn’t told him yet that they were getting off the train long before the others, that they would be living in the city like they always had, and that they wouldn’t have a mother and father anytime soon.

  Olivia had remained unsmiling through Reverend Poole’s speech. And now she shifted to look at Sophie, her eyes pleading with Sophie to keep her promise to find them a permanent home this time.

  Sophie feigned interest in the passing landscape. She’d have to tell Nicholas the truth at some point, but if she told him too soon, she risked him accidentally alerting another child or even the Pooles of their plans to abandon the group in Chicago. For now, she’d have to allow him to go on believing the fairy tale and then pray he’d forgive her once she told him it wasn’t true.

  Chapter 5

  Nicholas and Olivia ran through the open field along the train tracks with the other children in a game of tag. Sophie sprawled out in the long grass next to Anna, letting the September sun warm her face.

  The sunshine in the open countryside was so different from the sunshine in New York City. Brighter, gentler, and sweeter. At least that was what Sophie had decided during the past two days of traveling away from the city. They weren’t allowed off the train at every small-town depot, but whenever the train stopped for refueling, the layovers were longer, with the Pooles herding them outside to stretch their legs.

  As the two oldest among the orphans, Anna and Sophie helped supervise the children during their stops. Of course, Sophie hadn’t revealed her and Anna’s real ages and had allowed the Pooles to believe they were sixteen.

  Both the Reverend and Mrs. Poole had been grateful for the assistance and assured the girls more than once that they would have no trouble finding domestic or farm work for them.

  “Hardworking and morally upright girls like you are in very high demand,” Mrs. Poole had said. “Families will be fighting over which of them gets to take you home.”

  Sophie nodded and smiled the same as Anna, both of them pretending the prospect of placement pleased them. Perhaps the idea would have pleased Sophie if they’d planned to stay with the group. After all, every orphan fantasized about being wanted by a family, much less being wanted by more than one.

  Yet they hadn’t joined the group in order to be placed in homes. They’d joined for the ride west. That was it. Wasn’t it?

  “Do you miss Danny?” Anna asked, chewing on a spindly piece of grass. She’d discarded her bonnet as she usually did on their stops, letting the sun heat her face and toast her complexion a healthy brown, adding to her exotic look.

  Sophie dug her hand into the thick grass, relishing its coolness against her fingers. “To be honest, I haven’t thought of Danny much.”

  When they’d been together, she was enamored with his attention. But now that they were apart, she was more relieved than anything. Deep inside she knew she shouldn’t associate with the gangs or with a man who cared more about establishing power than extinguishing a fire. Not to mention the fact that he was a cold-blooded murderer.

  “I haven’t thought much of Mugs either.” Anna looked up at the fluffy clouds. “It’s kinda hard to think about that life out here, isn’t it?”

  Sophie followed her gaze to the beauty of the sky—a sky she hadn’t known existed from the narrow alleyways and dark tenements. There, it had been difficult to see beauty when desperation hung heavy, as gray and frayed as the dripping linens strung between buildings.

  “I just wish Mollie and Jo could have come with,” Anna said wistfully. “I’m worried about them.”

  “Do you think they’re safe?” Sophie had worried about Anna’s sister and niece too. “What if the Roach Guards discover her connection to us?”

  Anna’s expression turned somber. “If they go after her, she won’t tell them where we went.”

  “Unless they threaten to hurt Jo.” Sophie wouldn’t blame Mollie for doing whatever she had to in order to protect her daughter, even if that meant divulging their plans.

  “We might not be safe in Chicago,” Anna said, apparently coming to the same conclusion as Sophie.

  “We’ll just have to be careful and keep to ourselves.”

  “We reach Chicago tomorrow. And you know that both Nicholas and Olivia will have a conniption fit leaving the group, don’t you?”

  Sophie sat up on her elbows and watched Nicholas skip in the grass, completely oblivious to how the game of tag worked but happy to be running in the wide-open field—something he’d never been able to do in New York City. And never would do in Chicago.

  His cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled, and his knees grass-stained. He was happier and freer than she’d ever seen him, playing the way every little boy should.

  “We’ll have to make up a story,” Sophie said, thinking aloud, “make Nicholas and Olivia believe we’re leaving the group only for a short time. Then we can go back to the train station later and show them that the group left without us.”

  Anna pushed herself up and watched the children as they played. “You might be able to fool Nicholas with that kind of plan, but not Olivia.”

  Sophie shifted her sights to Olivia, whose long brown braids bounced against her back as she screamed in joyful abandon and raced away from her pursuer. Olivia’s anger at Sophie for making her move again had
faded. Sophie had known it would. It always did.

  “Olivia knows we’re getting off in Chicago,” Sophie said. “I told her.”

  “I think she wants to go live on a farm now too. Blast it all, the reverend and his wife have me half convinced to go work on a farm.”

  Sophie didn’t respond, even though Anna had given voice to her thoughts.

  “Would it be so bad to find homes?” Anna asked, longing turning her question to a plea.

  Anna had lived on the streets longer than Sophie. She’d been thirteen when her mother was taken away to jail, and she hadn’t heard from her since. For the first year, Anna had lived in the Ragpicker’s Lot in the Bend, hiding among the stacks of filthy rags for warmth. Some rags were washed and resold, but most were simply collected and delivered to a middleman so the cloth could be shredded to remake into clothing or used to stuff quilts.

  Some of the orphan children helped the ragpickers as they dug through trash, searching for anything that could be resold or reused—buttons, pieces of glass or metal, broken china, and even bones. Nothing was wasted.

  Sophie always shuddered whenever Anna shared stories of her life, of how close she’d come to ending up a prostitute like Mollie. If not for being sent to an asylum after a police raid on the Ragpicker’s Lot, Anna wasn’t sure what direction her life would have taken.

  “I want a home just like everyone else.” Sophie chose her words carefully. “But I doubt we’ll find anyone willing to take in the four of us.”

  “Won’t we be okay so long as we’re all close and can see each other?”

  “No. Absolutely not. I’ve sacrificed everything to care for Nicholas and Olivia and keep them together. I won’t let them be separated now.”

  “You’ve done a good job with them, and they love you,” Anna said gently. “But what kind of life will you be able to give them in Chicago? Until we find jobs, we’ll be homeless and hungry and have to go back to sleeping in doorways and stealing for food. To top it off, we’ll have to keep hiding and moving around just in case the Roach Guards are searching for us there.”

  A sense of inadequacy crept back inside Sophie, the same feeling she’d had since the beginning of the trip, the one that told her she wasn’t good enough for Olivia and Nicholas, that they needed more than she could give them.

  “As long as we’re together, that’s what matters,” Sophie said, voicing the same reasoning she’d used many times before to justify her choices.

  “It might not be enough anymore.” Anna was focused on Nicholas, who’d bent over to examine something in the grass—likely another insect.

  “It’s enough for Nicholas and Olivia and me,” Sophie said, almost defiantly.

  With cupped hands, Nicholas began to run to her, his eyes and smile alight with the thrill of all he was seeing and doing. He’d loved every moment of the trip so far.

  “Look, Sophie! Look!” Nicholas bounded as fast as his legs could go. When he stopped in front of her, he held out his hand. He uncurled his fingers to reveal a long green bug with spindly back legs. The moment the bug was exposed, it jumped away with a whirring that had Nicholas giggling and darting after it.

  Behind them, the blast of the train whistle signaled an end to their break. Sophie let Anna pull her to her feet, and together they rounded up the children, holding the hands of the youngest ones.

  When they reached the depot, Reverend and Mrs. Poole counted all the children to make sure everyone had returned. As Sophie helped Nicholas up onto the top step of the train car, she wondered what the couple would do in Chicago when they realized four children were gone. Surely they wouldn’t delay the whole group to search for them. At least she prayed they wouldn’t.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Poole, who was immaculately put together without a wrinkle in her skirt or blouse and not a hair out of place. How was that possible after two days of traveling in cramped conditions?

  Mrs. Poole held a pencil and a notebook in which she kept roll. If Sophie made sure the notebook got lost in Chicago, then perhaps Mrs. Poole wouldn’t notice the missing orphans until it was too late.

  Guilt managed to open the closet door in her mind and stick out a foot. After how nice the couple had been, could she really repay them with such treachery?

  As the children settled into their seats, Reverend Poole stood at the front of the compartment. “I hope you enjoyed the fresh air, children, for this will be our last reprieve until we reach Chicago.”

  Across from her, Anna raised her brow as if questioning again the wisdom of leaving the group.

  Sophie pressed her lips together and gave a curt nod.

  “But do not worry yourselves,” the reverend continued. “All the fresh country air you could ever want awaits you in your new homes and will be much better for you than the foulness of city air. Moreover, we’re rescuing you from the wretched influences, moral depravity, and evilness of your former lives. If left in such an environment, you would have grown crooked. But cut off from those influences and transplanted to a better place, you’ll be able to thrive and grow straight and tall.”

  Sophie doubted any of the children understood the reverend’s ramblings. She hardly did herself. Even so, she comprehended enough to second-guess her plans throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening.

  Once darkness fell upon the train car and most of the children had quieted with sleep, she leaned against the window and stared unseeingly at the passing farmland. Nicholas had fallen asleep with his head in her lap, and his body curled onto the bench next to her. Olivia lay on the bench across from them, and Anna had taken the floor, her feet stretching into the aisle and tangling with others who’d bedded on the ground.

  Was Reverend Poole right? Would country living not only take Olivia and Nicholas away from the crowds of the city but also the bad influences there? Sophie certainly didn’t want them to grow up to become like Danny, Mugs, and Mollie—turning to gangs or prostitution. All this time, she’d thought the two would be better off with her, that she was all they needed, that as long as they stayed together it wouldn’t matter where they were or how they got by.

  Had she been wrong to steal them away from the Children’s Aid Society two years ago? What if all this time they could have been living in a real home instead of orphanages? What if they’d had their own rooms instead of sharing a corridor with dozens of other kids? What if they’d had comfortable beds instead of thin, sagging, and often sour-smelling mattresses? What if they’d had thick, warm blankets in winter instead of thin and tattered covers?

  By keeping them with her, maybe she’d deprived them of the love from both a mother and a father. And maybe she’d also kept them from the influence of a stable and godly family. She’d been far from godly, had in fact been a terrible example for Olivia and Nicholas. All she’d done was lead the two astray with her thieving and lying and waywardness.

  The rhythmic clicking of the train seemed to whisper a truth she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before: You’re selfish. You’re selfish. You’re selfish. Over and over, the words rolled through her mind as steadily as the wheels on the track.

  She’d been selfish to keep Olivia and Nicholas instead of letting them find a family who would be able to take care of them the way they deserved. If she’d truly loved them, she should have considered their needs and what was best for them. Instead, she’d only thought about losing them and how empty that would make her feel.

  She combed her fingers through Nicholas’s downy hair. He was still young enough that he’d adjust to a new home and family without too much trouble. Sure, he might miss her at first, but with loving parents, lots of room to play, and plenty of fresh air, he’d thrive and soon forget how much he missed her.

  The thought of him forgetting her sent a stab of despair through her chest so sharp that she sat up with the pain of it. Next to her, Nicholas shifted, turning over and burrowing his face against her lap. As if sensing her despair, he reached out until he found her hand. As his fing
ers curled into hers, the despair in her chest sank its talons deeper.

  She couldn’t let him go. She didn’t care how selfish she was. She wasn’t ready to lose the children. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  “Hurry now,” Sophie told Olivia and Nicholas as she forcibly propelled them away from the depot. She cast a glance toward the platform, where the other children waited for Reverend and Mrs. Poole to return from inside the central building.

  She ignored the nagging voice in her head telling her the Pooles were counting on her and Anna to tend to the orphans while they were gone. She ignored Anna’s silent questions, the ones asking if they were doing the right thing. And she ignored the silent whisper reminding her she was being selfish, the same whisper that hadn’t allowed her to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

  “I don’t want to get penny candy.” Olivia pushed back against Sophie’s movement forward.

  Sophie had found the penny on the ground at one of their earlier stops. Now it would come in handy as a way to lure the children away from the group and into busy downtown Chicago. At the early hour of the morning, the streets were bustling with people beginning their workdays. They’d have no trouble getting lost among the crowds.

  But first she had to convince Olivia to leave the train depot.

  “I wanna lemon drop,” Nicholas said, more than making up for Olivia’s lack of enthusiasm.

  Olivia grabbed on to the edge of a passing bench. “I’m not leaving the depot.”

  “You’ve been talking about licorice and how you haven’t had any for a long time.” Sophie tried to keep her voice cheerful. “Now’s our chance. Besides, we’ll be back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

  Olivia surprised Sophie by plopping down onto the bench and clutching the seat with both hands, almost as if she didn’t intend to let go unless someone pried her loose. She glared up at Sophie with big brown eyes, which overflowed with resentment. “We’re not staying in Chicago.”