What other options did they have?
After slipping out of her heels, she again grasped the sill. On his linked palms, she placed her foot, slick in a silk stocking, and pushed off. He averted his eyes from the length of her body, just inches from his face, as she stretched over him and into the room.
His turn to go.
He heaved himself up, wary of rattling the glass panes overhead. A low bookshelf aided his landing. Safely on the floor, he righted himself, just as his flashlight slid out.
Clunk. He swiped it up.
Breath held, they stared at the half-open door. It seemed to slowly swing wider on its own. A trick of vision at night.
Silence stretched out long enough to suggest they were in the clear.
With ragged sighs, they proceeded past orderly rows of school desks and chairs. Lily peered into the hallway before tiptoeing out. Ellis followed, still listening for signs of other movement. Three doors down, she stopped before the office—identified through the glass of the door—and gave the knob a twist. She looked at him, her worries magnified.
Locked.
Ellis wasn’t as troubled. Having a father who preferred tinkering with machinery to conversation came with a few benefits.
He handed her the flashlight. At her confusion, he put a finger to his mouth to quiet her. Then he reached over her shoulder and slid two hairpins from her updo. Her auburn locks unwound, falling loose around her neck. By then, she understood and scooted aside. She trained the white beam on the door.
On one knee, Ellis inserted the pins into the knob. It was a basic one, the sole reason he ventured to try. Besides a dumb impulse to impress her.
He needed to concentrate. It had been years since he’d done this—back in his rebellious period, on a dare to pick the lock of the door separating the boys’ and girls’ locker rooms. He was a hero among the fellas until the shrieks broke out.
Just like then, he maneuvered now by feel, despite rising doubt that he’d forgotten how. But then a mechanism moved, sliding free, and the lock lightly clicked. He turned the knob fully, and Lily smiled. For an instant.
She crossed the room and delved straight into a stack of folders on the desk. Ellis closed the door and nabbed the second pile. It didn’t take him long to finish. Most in his batch were related to utilities and permits and other regulated business.
Lily, meanwhile, fingered through records of children. She was slowing down, her attention lingering on their photographs. Notes of their circumstances were surely heartbreaking. Ellis gave her forearm a squeeze, a begrudging reminder that there wasn’t time for that. Not now.
She gathered herself and increased her pace. She was almost at the bottom.
There had to be more.
An upright file cabinet drew Ellis to the corner. He tried the handles on the three drawers. A lock at the top secured them all. Was the staff really that afraid of burglars? What the devil were they trying to protect?
That was when it struck him. All these locks—on the windows, the office, the cabinets—were used because of the children. To keep them inside but any links to their past out of reach.
“He’s not here,” Lily whispered before noting Ellis’s find. “Can you pick it?”
He shook his head. Even if he knew how, it was too small for the pins. “The key’s gotta be here somewhere.”
They quickly went to work, splitting up the room. Ellis ran his hands over surfaces in search of a hiding spot. Behind the file cabinet, atop the corkboard, above the doorframe.
“Ellis…” Lily was staring into a desk drawer. A drawer with more files. She looked up. “It’s him.”
He rushed to see for himself. Sure enough, in the second folder from the top, the boy’s picture was stapled to a page. Calvin, it read. Ellis knew that round face, those cupid lips. The thick lashes and impossibly large eyes, now turned sad. There was no listed surname. Just another kid from the street, parentless and unwanted. Except that he was none of those.
They skimmed the next sheet, and the next. There were signatures, a scrawled address—
A creak made Ellis turn. Lily winced. It was the sound of metal pipes, the weathered bones of a building settling. A good reminder to wrap things up.
Lily left the top page. She stuffed the other two in her coat pocket as Ellis replaced the file. With the classroom window still open, it was best to go out the way they came.
Another peek into the hallway, a locking of the door, and they were back at the bookshelf. It would be easier to help her climb down if he was on the outside. “I’ll go first,” he told her. He was just raising his knee when the room lit up. A near-blinding flash.
They spun around. A colored woman stood at the doorway, hand on the light switch, eyes bulged with fright.
“It’s me, it’s me,” Lily urged in a rasp, an attempt to prevent a scream. “From earlier. Remember?”
The woman shrank back, grasping the collar of her bathrobe, and her gaze cut to the file in Lily’s hand.
Lily pulled the folder to herself, protecting it. “The little boy I came for—Calvin Dillard—I just needed to know where he went. So I could speak with the parents who adopted him. He was never supposed to be here. Mildred, you have to believe me.”
Living in the building, presumably on the staff, Mildred must have known Calvin. She must have heard him speak about wanting to go home, or crying over missing his mom and sister.
But then, that probably didn’t differentiate him from half the orphans in the place.
Ellis questioned if adding his two cents would help or hinder, but he had to do something. “Please, ma’am. I’m sure you work here because you care a lot about children. So many of them, I’d bet, would give anything to be back with their real family.”
Mildred’s eyes lowered as she loosened her hold on her robe, though only slightly.
“We can help do that if you let us.” He stepped toward her without thinking, raising his hand in an appeal, and her face snapped up.
He’d ventured too close. He’d gambled wrong.
Then someone coughed. A man. Somewhere down the hall.
No one in the room moved.
A debate whirled in Mildred’s eyes. Her job and duty versus questionable claims from strangers breaking the law. It wasn’t much of a contest. She owed them nothing.
Ellis braced for her to flee and yell, sending an alarm to the staff. He prepared to grab Lily, to hustle her through the window, ordering her to run.
Then Mildred flicked a hand. “Go on, get,” she whispered. She was shooing them out.
Lily nodded readily. She scurried over to Ellis, who swiftly crawled out before guiding her down. Her stockinged feet had just landed when the window slid closed.
Ellis sent silent thanks to the woman behind the glass as Lily threw on her shoes. In seconds, the window went black.
Together they hurried back to the car. He started the engine in three tries and drove back toward the highway. Hands shaking from adrenaline, he glanced over to see how Lily was faring. Already she was examining the pilfered pages by flashlight.
“Briarsburg,” she said. “In Sussex County. That’s where Calvin went. It has to be…a half hour north?”
“About that.” It took him a moment to realize she wanted to go now. “Lily, it’s awfully late to make a house call.” His caution wasn’t about social graces. Disturbing the couple unannounced, particularly at this hour, might not be the best strategy.
Before he could say as much, she replied in earnest, “If the director notices the pages are gone in the morning, he just might beat us to the family.”
Ellis considered the possibility. She was right.
But then, when wasn’t she?
He reached into the back seat and rifled through his satchel. “You navigate, I’ll drive,” he said, handing her the map.
&nbs
p; Chapter 38
Somewhere along the way, they took a wrong turn. Two, in fact. Traversing unfamiliar highways and country roads was difficult enough in and of itself, much less on a moonless, rainy night. Add in weariness from the week, and it was no wonder Lily had misread the map. Twice.
All the backtracking was costing them more time, and civility. Her apologies for the errors had prompted assurances from Ellis, but only of the compulsory sort. From his growing aloofness, her own defenses arose. Combined, they formed an imposing third passenger. When at last they found Tilikum Road, she was more anxious than ever to reach their destination.
Car slowing, they rolled down their windows. There were fewer chances of locating the home through rain-streaked glass. The scents of mud and wet straw wafted in, as did moisture that dampened their seats and clothing. Minor grievances, given their objective.
“There’s a house.” Lily pointed toward lights set back from her side of the road. Could Calvin finally be this close?
“Look for the mailbox.”
She strained her vision. Sprawling fields appeared to dominate the area. The irony that Calvin had landed in a place so similar to the home he’d lost was as comforting as it was cruel. “Right there.” A tin postal box caught the beam of the head lamps.
Ellis stopped within reading distance and cleared his windshield with the manual wiper blade. The documents remained on Lily’s lap, yet the couple’s names and address were already etched into her mind.
She sighed at the painted numbers on the box. “It’s not theirs.”
“Just keep an eye out for the next.”
He was right to sound unfazed. On the map, the road wasn’t all that long. The correct house had to be here somewhere.
She resumed her focus as they drove on. The rattling of the engine was nearly lost to the pattering of rain and chirping of crickets.
Another wrong mailbox, and another. A fourth bore no markings, and the absence of lights implied that the residents had retired for the night. Ellis opted to bypass them for the time being, saying he would circle back if needed. As they continued, however, the chance that it was the right one gnawed at her.
“Could we go back to that last one now?” It likely meant waking the household, but past nine o’clock in a farming area, that was going to be a common challenge. And they simply had to present their case before the director had a chance.
Ellis gave her an assessing glance, as if to decide if she was acting on a hunch or out of impatience. Whichever the conclusion, he replied, “I’ll flip around after this hill.”
“Thank you.”
The car sputtered up the remaining half of the incline, then coasted down. When the road went level, Ellis eased over to the side, allowing them the width to double back. As soon as they swung around, Lily spied another mailbox. Lit by the head lamps, its black letters on a white background read like a marquee.
GANTRY
“Stop,” she said, and he did. The A was partially worn off, the Y obscured by rust, but there indeed was the surname. It matched the document signed by Bob and Ada Gantry. “That’s them.” Her pulse jittered.
Ellis leaned toward her, just enough to peer out her window.
A light was moving in the distance, being carried by someone. Then the figure disappeared into what looked to be a house.
“At least one person’s awake,” Lily said brightly.
Ellis agreed. But there was no racing to the finish line. He simply closed his window, cueing her to do the same, and rumbled slowly up the dirt drive. Scattered stones caused bumping and more rattling.
They parked near the barn. “Let me do the talking,” he said. There was no arrogance in the statement, no note of condescension.
And it dawned on Lily that his stoicism over the course of the drive had been from contemplating his approach, as every word could be crucial.
“Are you sure?” she said. “I’d be glad to start it off if you’d like.” True, her discussion with the orphanage director hadn’t been fruitful—not directly so—but it had given her practice.
“I need to fix this.” He sounded dutiful as he angled to face her. “They’ve had him only a few months. If they’ll just agree to speak with Geraldine, I’m sure they’ll understand. She’s a caring, decent person. And she’s Calvin’s real mother. How in good conscience could they say no?”
“They couldn’t,” Lily agreed. Now she was the one who needed to instill confidence, regardless of her stirring fears. She even smiled. “I’ll go with you.”
He nodded, a flash of appreciation in his eyes.
Through the rain, they hustled toward the covered porch. The two-story farmhouse was light-colored and typical in structure, from what she could tell at night. Ellis didn’t hesitate to knock, though the wait lasted an eternity.
Finally, the front door opened halfway. Behind the screen door, a woman held a kerosene lamp. She wore a house robe and slippers, a long braid draping her shoulder. Yellow flickered over her elongated face.
“Mrs. Gantry?” Ellis began.
“Yes?”
“Ma’am…I realize it’s late to drop by—”
“Who’s down there?” a gruff voice cut in, startling Lily.
In lieu of answering, Mrs. Gantry made way for her husband—presumably. He arrived barefoot in a long, plaid nightshirt that covered his hefty paunch. The back of his hair stood on end as if molded by a pillow.
Lily reflexively lowered her eyes a little.
“Well?” he barked, this time at Ellis.
“I do apologize if we woke you, sir.”
“This damn well better be important. Come mornin’, I got fields to tend to,” he said as Mrs. Gantry set the lamp on the entry table. She receded into the background, looking timid but curious as her husband continued. “And if you’re out to sell something, you can keep right on going.”
“Not at all, Mr. Gantry. We’ve come about something else entirely.”
The man slid his gaze toward Lily, who smiled amiably to no reaction before Ellis went on. “You see, we’re here about a child you and your wife recently took in. A boy named Calvin. From the Warren County Home for Children.”
Mr. Gantry appeared dubious. “Yeah. What about it?”
While “it” could have been in reference to the topic, Lily couldn’t help balking at the idea that he was referring to Calvin.
At least the man had inadvertently confirmed the adoption. The realization sent Lily’s mind wandering past the couple and into the house. Was Calvin upstairs, tucked into bed? Would he come running if she hollered his name?
She held herself back as Ellis presented the essentials of their predicament—of a child taken in error, a loving mother all alone—ending with hope for a solution, if only the couple would meet with Geraldine.
Mr. Gantry folded his arms over his nightshirt, his raised sleeve exposing a torpedo tattoo on his forearm. Surely from his time in the Great War, it suited his abrasive bearing well. “I see the problem you all got,” he acknowledged. “Now this here’s mine. I gave up good money for that boy. Bought him fair ’n’ square.”
Lily must have misheard. “Bought him?”
“That’s right. Had fees for his shots and paperwork, and all that business. So, I got no interest in talking to no woman. I don’t care what her story is. Boy’ll be working the farm, like I got him for.”
Lily made no effort to hide her disgust. No wonder his grown sons had up and left, rather than staying to help work the land. She glanced at Mrs. Gantry, who cowered with a look of shame before slinking out of sight.
“I’ll pay you,” Ellis said, preventing a retort from Lily.
Mr. Gantry squinted an eye. “What’s that you say?”
“Whatever you spent, I’ll reimburse you in full.”
Laying the groundwork, that had been the plan. But tha
t was prior to learning of Calvin’s servitude.
Mr. Gantry studied Ellis through the screen. He was still leery but plainly, horrendously tempted. “That’d amount to twenty dollars.”
“Done.”
Ellis answered too quickly to have given it thought. The farmer appeared to catch that himself. He curled his bottom lip in a wry, calculating way. “Course, that’s not including food and clothing and other troubles we gone to. Kids can be expensive, you know.”
Ellis fell silent for several breaths. “How much?”
“Oh, I’d say doubling it to forty would be more in line.”
It was clear from the tension in Ellis’s jaw, if not the fisting of his hands, that his polite front was wearing thin. This was a human being, a child, they were bargaining over.
But if the men went to blows, Lily realized, even that option would vanish.
“Forty, you say?” Her question pulled Mr. Gantry’s attention. She reduced her pace to feign thoughtfulness. “It would…be a stretch. But I think we can manage it.”
“All right, then.” He nodded smugly. Then he opened the screen door, holding it wide, and wiggled the fingers of his free hand. “Let’s see it.”
She looked to Ellis. He had told her earlier: with his account blocked, after buying gasoline for the trip, he had a mere three dollars to his name. As for Lily, she didn’t have to scour her purse to know she didn’t have more than five.
“We actually don’t have it here,” she admitted, “but I’d be delighted to get it to you straightaway.” She would gladly take it out of the money she had saved at home.
“That’s what I figured.” Mr. Gantry huffed, concluding the negotiation—or maybe it had all been a test from the start. “Get off my property. And don’t neither of you come back, or I’ll sic the sheriff on ya.” With that, he released the screen door. Before it could slam, Ellis grabbed on.
“Now, just wait—”
Mr. Gantry skewered him with a glare. He fed out his words through gritted teeth. “You get your paws off, or things are gonna go bad real quick.”
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