Whistle-Stop West

by Arleta Richardson

  “No,” Matron replied, “but that man was acting the way Jesus wants us to act. This is a story Jesus told to the people. We’ll hear more stories, Arthur, while we’re on the train. And you’ll have a chance to go to church with the new family you live with.”

  After prayers, the children practiced the song they had learned to sing to the people who would come to look them over.

  If I only had a home, sweet home, someone to care for me,

  Like all the other boys and girls, how happy I would be!

  A kind papa and mama dear, to call me all their own,

  This world would be like sunshine if I had a home, sweet home.

  Everyone sang loudly and as much in tune as possible. Matron and Mr. Glover agreed that the children had done well. Some of them sang little songs by themselves or recited poems that were sure to impress the listeners.

  My name is Nell,

  And I can tell

  That you are good and kind.

  If you will take me home with you,

  I’d promise I will mind.

  As you can see, I’m big and tall

  And strong as I can be.

  You won’t have to work so hard

  If you had a boy like me.

  It was Arthur, however, who won the admiration of everyone with his acrobatics. He walked on his hands, did back and front flip-flops, and rolled like a ball down the train aisle.

  “He looks like he don’t have any bones,” Bert commented. “I wish I could do that.”

  “You could if you practiced,” Arthur told him. “It’s better to try it on the grass, though. You need lots of space to learn.”

  Ethan watched all this activity with interest. There was no reason for him and his siblings to recite poems or perform. They had already been chosen.

  “You’re lucky,” Bert said. “I’d like to know where I’m going.”

  “I don’t know where I’m going,” Ethan replied. “Just because a family spoke for me doesn’t mean they’ll like me.”

  This was the fear of most of the older children. What if the families who chose them decided later that they didn’t like them?

  Matron tried to reassure everyone. “The Lord has promised to guide us with His eye. He’s not going to lead us the wrong way, is He? We’re going to trust Him for good homes for all of you. Now, let’s make ourselves presentable for our first stop.”

  Chapter Five

  The Orphan Train Arrives

  The next hour wasn’t enjoyed by everyone. The older boys and girls helped scrub the younger ones. Hair was washed and brushed, and new clothes were put on.

  “Matron, I’m not going to have no skin left if Riley don’t let up,” Pete complained. “Them’s freckles he’s trying to rub off.”

  “Mr. Glover, young Billy’s curling his toes up, and I can’t get his shoes on,” Philip complained.

  Young Billy was only three and had been new to Briarlane. But when Bert and Ethan’s friend Billy, who was the same age as them, had chosen not to go on the train, it had seemed fitting to all that young Billy would take his place.

  Shala scolded Alice. “Now see what you did to your sash! I tied it just perfect, and you had to turn it around to look at it!”

  Finally, however, everyone was neatly dressed and combed, and Charles Glover looked them over with satisfaction. “As nice looking a bunch of children as I’ve ever had,” he declared. “We’ll be proud to show them to the people in Liberty.”

  Fortunately, the town of Liberty wasn’t far away. The train began to slow, and as many faces as possible pressed against the windows. Everyone wanted to be first to catch a glimpse of the station. The children spoke together in whispers.

  “You’re allowed to talk out loud, you know,” Charles said. “We want these folks to think they’ll be getting real children. You can always hear that kind.”

  “We’ve been hearing them for several days,” Matron added with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll tell the folks how real they are.”

  “We’re scared, miss.” A little Chicago boy turned from the window. “I weren’t never scared on the streets, but I am now. What are we going to do with all that space?” he pleaded. “There’s nothin’ to hide behind.”

  “What’s there to hide from?” Philip wanted to know. “Is someone after you?”

  Arthur looked at Philip kindly. “If you was safe in an orphanage every night, you wouldn’t know it. We lived on the street and slept in doorways at night, mostly. There was lots of things to hide from there.”

  The Briarlane children regarded Arthur with awe. He slept in doorways in that big, noisy city?

  “What did you eat?” Bert asked.

  “Anything we could find. Lots of restaurants threw things out in the alley, and we picked food up. Sometimes we snitched fruit from the stands.”

  “You mean you took it when they weren’t looking?”

  Mouths of the Briarlane children hung agape.

  Arthur hedged, as if realizing this wasn’t a good thing to talk about. “Well, sometimes the owners would give us what was left over at the end of the day. We didn’t snitch a whole lot.”

  “The folks at Hull-House were good to us,” Trudy put in. “They took in all the kids they could there. Nobody else ever gave us brand-new clothes before.”

  “That’s why we believed ’em when they said we’d get new homes out here, and people would want us,” Nell added.

  “We’re going to see who wants us this time,” Shala declared as the train lurched to a stop.

  The children turned again to the windows and gazed at the crowd that lined the platform. There were farmers in overalls and straw hats, and businessmen in fine suits. Women in sunbonnets and apron-covered cotton dresses mingled with ladies wearing the latest fashions in gowns and feathered and beribboned hats.

  “Stay right here until I come back for you,” Charles Glover instructed. “I’ll make arrangements with the townsfolk and find out where we’re to go.”

  “Do you see someone you’d like to go home with?” Alice whispered to Betsy.

  “There’s a lady who’s smiling and waving,” Betsy said. “She looks nice. But I think I’d rather stay with you. I’d like us to go to the same town.”

  Alice nodded. “I’d like all of us to go to the same place. Even Philip.”

  “Philip always teases you. Why would you want him?”

  “’Cause I know him,” Alice replied. “I feel better with people I know, even if I don’t like them very much.”

  Betsy seemed to understand this, and the girls continued to watch the people outside.

  At another window, Ethan and Bert were doing the same.

  “They’re going at this backwards,” Bert observed. “Us kids need to pick the ma and pa we’d like ’stead of them picking us. I can tell from here that he doesn’t like boys.” Bert pointed toward a tall, thin man dressed in a black suit, a white shirt, and a string tie.

  Ethan studied the man. “How do you know that?” he asked finally. “He looks all right to me.”

  “He’s standing too quiet. And he’s not talking to nobody. He looks like he was here to pick up a load of furniture. A chair won’t talk back to him, but a boy will. He won’t like that.”

  Ethan surveyed the crowd on the platform. It was true that most everyone was chatting with a neighbor or walking back and forth past the windows. They seemed excited and interested. Ethan looked back at the tall, unsmiling man standing alone.

  “He doesn’t look very happy, does he? Maybe he wants a child to cheer him up. Maybe living alone makes you look like that.”

  “It’d take a carload of kids to cheer him up,” Bert emphasized. “I don’t want to be one of ’em.”

  “Pretend you could have anyone out there you wanted for your folks,” Ethan said. “Who would you pick?”
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  Bert looked carefully, then sighed. “They ain’t out there. My ma had soft, curly hair around her face. Theirs is all pulled back tight. My pa would be dancin’ a jig to make folks laugh. I don’t see ’em.”

  “You mean you’re looking for your real folks?” Ethan stared at Bert. “You know they never lived in Iowa!”

  Bert grinned sheepishly. “Naw, I ain’t looking for ’em really. I’d just like new ones that looked like ’em. That way, see, I wouldn’t have to get used to two different sets when my pa and ma do come back. ’Cause I’ll find ’em when I’m sixteen and can go looking. Just wait and see.”

  Ethan had the feeling that even Bert didn’t believe that, but he knew his friend wanted to, so he didn’t argue. Instead he broke into a huge smile. “Sure you will, Bert. Maybe I’ll even be able to help you look.”

  “Mr. Glover’s coming back,” someone said. “Are we going now?”

  Simon climbed up on the seat, where Ethan stood at the window. “She’s here too,” he announced.

  “Who’s here, Simon?”

  “That little bitty lady I didn’t smack in the nose.”

  Ethan opened his mouth to tell Simon not to be ridiculous, but he had no chance.

  Mr. Glover was speaking. “We’re ready, children. Small ones with Matron; the rest line up by size and follow me. The people want to see you.”

  New shoes squeaked down the train aisle and descended the big metal steps. The crowd parted to make way for this unusual parade, and it seemed like hundreds of eyes followed as they headed toward the church a short distance away.

  Chapter Six

  Commotion at the Station

  Moments before the train pulled into the Liberty station, the townsfolk had gathered on the platform. Adults and children alike were chattering among themselves about the exciting event that was about to take place.

  “I hear a train coming, Mama! Is it the Orphan Train?”

  “I expect so, dear.” Harriet Hodge adjusted the white straw hat that bounced off her little girl’s head and hung around her neck by the elastic string. “Do stop dancing around, Glory. Your clothes will be a mess. You’ll look just like an orphan.”

  “Really, Harriet, that was hardly the best choice of words,” her sister reproved. “The child will think that the boy you take will have to look like a tramp.”

  “I know, Edna. It just slipped out. But you don’t ever expect an orphan to look neat and tidy, do you?”

  “I think you’ll have to tell me again why you’ve decided to take one.” Edna sighed and peered down the track toward the approaching train. “It seems a most foolhardy thing to do.”

  “Glory wants a playmate. I can’t think of an easier way than this to get one. Frank didn’t object. He thought it might be nice to have a boy to take into the business.”

  “At seven years of age?”

  “No, of course not. If we get one we like, we intend to keep him.”

  “And if you don’t like him?”

  “We can always send him back.”

  “You make the child sound like a piece of merchandise. Are you sure Frank won’t sell him if he gets tired of him?”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sakes, Edna! Be sensible. You know better than that!”

  She didn’t, really, but she made no further comment.

  Harriet turned her attention to the little girl. “Glory, why are you pulling on my shirt? I’m going to look as bedraggled as you do before that train ever gets here. What do you want?”

  “I’m going to pick him out, huh, Mama?”

  “Oh, I suppose so,” her mother replied. “Just don’t grab the first one you see getting off the train. Remember that he’s going to live in the same house with us.”

  Edna watched the people standing along the platform in front of the depot. Some, she knew, had come out of curiosity, as she had herself. But many others were planning to return home with one of these children. It would certainly be interesting to know what all their reasons were.

  The small town of Liberty lay along the Iowa River, less than one hundred miles from Davenport. Not many strangers came through, and certainly none who were unobserved. There had been great excitement when the notice of the Orphan Train appeared on the post-office door, on Hodge’s mercantile window, and at the train station. Since everyone in town and many in the surrounding countryside entered at least two of those establishments daily, no one was unaware of the big event.

  “I didn’t even know I wanted another young ’un until I saw that notice,” Mrs. Tyler declared. “Just imagine being able to pick whoever you want from the bunch. I’m going to get a girl who can cook and sew. I just hate to cook and sew.”

  “You’re not too fond of mopping and washing clothes, either,” her daughter, Nita, observed. “You’d better be sure the girl can do that, too.”

  The mother ignored the girl and turned to the woman next to her. “How about you, Jenna? What are you getting?”

  “I don’t know yet. We want to look them over and choose a child who looks needy. Of course, they’re all needy,” she added quickly, “but I think I’ll know the one for us when I see them all together. Jared and I want a child we can love and bring up to serve the Lord.”

  “Well, I suppose there isn’t that much work to do in a parsonage,” Mrs. Tyler replied. “Your husband only works on Sunday, and the church folks support you. I guess you do have a garden, though, don’t you?”

  Jenna smiled and answered quietly, “Yes, we have a garden. I hope our child will enjoy working in the earth, but the chores will be handed out evenly among us, just as they are now. I’m not planning to adopt a servant.”

  Mrs. Tyler blushed and turned away. The minister’s wife had obviously heard Nita’s remarks. Her daughter needed some competition, Mrs. Tyler thought irritably. She was far too free to speak her mind.

  Clayton Jones stood by himself, staring thoughtfully down the track. There might not have been anyone else on the platform for all the notice he gave them. Since reading the advertisement in the Iowa County Courier several weeks ago, Clayton had thought of little else. He had briefly discussed the matter with his sister, who shared his home.

  “You know it will be all right with me, Clayton. I’d prefer you’d get a wife first, but that’s up to you. I’m happy to stay right here and look after you and the boy.”

  “Thank you, Cassie. You’ve been patient over the years. Unfortunately they aren’t sending Suitable Wife Trains to Iowa this season. It’s becoming a matter of necessity that I have help in the business, and I want it to stay in the family. I’m unsure how to approach a boy with the possibilities ahead of him. And I realize that any apprentice isn’t going to have years to grow used to the situation.” He pointed to the sign Jones and Son over the local funeral parlor.

  It had been four years now since his beloved wife and only son had fallen victim to the smallpox epidemic that swept the area. Clayton had thought to carry on alone, but as he grew older, he realized that not only did he need help in his work but he needed a family of his own.

  The thought that his occupation could be objectionable to some boys had entered his head, but his greater concern was about knowing what to do with a boy of fourteen or fifteen. He supposed they would need to carry on a conversation occasionally, but he had no idea what boys wanted to talk about. The few he had observed around town seemed to lean strongly toward things like, “Hey, Spike! Whatcha doin’?” or “Sez your old man!” and things equally unintelligible. City children would probably come equipped with a vocabulary completely foreign to him.

  As the train drew closer, Clayton’s apprehension grew. Should he go back home? Should he just forge ahead and apprentice the Wilcox boy, whose father had an eye on eventually owning the entire main street where Clayton’s acre occupied a choice spot? The thought of the elder Wilcox’s continual pushing of such an alli
ance strengthened Clayton’s resolve, and he stood his ground.

  No one walking by the tall, somber man clad in a black suit, white shirt, and black string tie would ever suspect that he was pondering anything but death.

  Chapter Seven

  Hopes and Dreams

  Among those milling about the Liberty platform, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the children, was Julia Thornton. She had come many miles since morning to meet this train. The conversation with her husband, Isaac, yesterday evening remained fresh in her mind.

  “Be heading for summer pasture next week,” Isaac said.

  Julia had rocked in silence for several minutes, then said softly, “I’m not staying here alone this summer, Isaac.”

  Her husband stared as though he had never seen her before. “Where you staying, then?”

  “I said I won’t be staying here alone. I’m going to Liberty tomorrow to get me an orphan from the train. I made arrangements when I first read the ad last month.”

  “You never needed company any other year.” Isaac seemed genuinely puzzled. “You going to get an orphan to spend the summer? What are you going to do with the child after that? You never minded being here alone before.”

  “I’ve hated being here alone. It’s all I could do not to pack up the milk cows and the chickens and follow you up there. And I’m not getting an orphan for the summer. She’ll stay here for good. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had any womenfolk to talk to? I want a girl I can teach to cook and make dresses for and play tea party with. I want somebody who looks like me with long hair to brush and ribbons to tie. I might get two of them. I’m tired of being the only woman within fifty miles of this place. Not to mention the only human for four months of the year while you’re gone.”

  Isaac had been shocked into total silence, Julia recalled. He had eyed her cautiously this morning, but the buggy was standing ready when she emerged at dawn in a clean, crisply starched cotton dress and bonnet.