Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider

by Julie Dewey

  I decided to make the Orphan Train my home with Eddie. We were fed and had beds to sleep on at night and had nowhere else to be. I began to sing Eddie the ABC’s and taught him to count to ten. We counted our fingers and toes and he laughed when I pretended I captured his nose. His smile was devilish, and boy was he a squirmy fellow, turning to spaghetti when it was time to change his nappy or change him into his traveling clothes. Agnes had a few children’s books on the train and as I pointed to the pictures Eddie and a few other children would forget where we were headed and just enjoy the moment.

  At night we often slept at hotels or in church halls that were prepared for us ahead of time by the Sisters of Charity’s correspondence. The boys and girls were divided and separated into rooms by age and gender. But Eddie and I always slept together. No one else could get him to fall asleep; he needed me to pat his back and rub his hair just so and to sing his favorite lullabies such as ‘Rock a Bye Baby’. He held onto my thumbs with his tiny hands and when I woke in the morning he would be staring adoringly into my eyes.

  Agnes was fearful Edmund was growing too attached to me and tried to take him upon herself but he proved to be too much trouble when she had so many other children to chaperone. The older children were growing restless and reported to be smoking and using profanity in the boxcars. One of the teenage boys had plans to jump from the train and run away but he was forced to sit in coach with us until his Christian notions settled in. Agnes quizzed him on bible verses, filled his mind with Christian ways and other nonsense until she was certain he would behave. When he finally made his way back to the boxcar he leapt off and we never saw him again.

  One family on our fifth stop inquired about me as they heard I was skilled at laundry. The family was rather wealthy and had three young girls. They had a nanny under their employ but she struggled with the care and keeping of the girls and requested they hire a girl strictly for laundry. I was much too small for their liking and they hated my cropped haircut. Still they poked at my ears and hair, opened my mouth and inspected my teeth and gums as if I were a cattle specimen. They turned my hands over multiple times, looking curiously at my nail beds.

  “She will do,” said the predatory woman without ever looking into my eyes that were welling with tears.

  “Fine, I will sign the papers, meet me outside dear.” The man with the receding hairline said to his wife who was already walking away into the outdoor sunshine. There was nothing cheerful about her and I would be nothing more than a piece of property to them.

  I was about to become indentured to a family that would never love me. What would become of Edmund? I had grown to love this child. He was pointing to all sorts of objects now and reciting them as well as reciting different animals and what sounds they made, “cat, dog, meow, ruff, ruff….”

  “Now Mary, I assure you that I will remain in touch. It’s part of my job to follow up and see that you are thriving in your new environment.” Sister Agnes tried comforting me.

  “But it’s not a family, as I’d hoped for….” I let my voice trail off.

  “I know Mary, I know it isn’t as we hoped, but you will be provided for and have everything you need. You can write to me yourself, we shall be pen pals, would you like that?” She asked.

  “I suppose it would be nice. Thank you, Sister Agnes.”

  I prepared to say my goodbyes to Edmund, kissing him gently on the cheek and whispering into his tiny ears that I loved him and hoped a nice family would come for him at the next stop. He put his little hands on my cheeks and I heaved a sigh of grief so great that I began throwing up. I threw up all over my good Christian dress and all over Eddie’s suit of clothes. I had chunks of vomit in my hair and on my shoes, I looked into the face of the man who was to take me home and he snarled at me, threw the pen back at Agnes and said, “We’ve changed our minds.” He walked out. I was free to be with Eddie and Agnes for another few days at least.

  I don’t know what overcame me that day, perhaps it was the fact we had been traveling for several weeks having gone through New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois and had paraded ourselves desperately in front of strangers, hoping to be wanted. Or perhaps it was my growing love for Edmund who was softening me, either way I was grateful for we only had one more stop before returning back to the city. We only had to go through the flat lands of Iowa and would be turning back around heading east to pick up more orphans. I would be able to stay with the Sisters until our next trip was scheduled.

  Our very last stop on the way home was going to be in Mason City, Iowa. I had considered that maybe I could be a ward like Agnes some day and she agreed I would do a fine job. She also agreed it was necessary to find Edmund a nice family home first however, or I would be unable to help her on subsequent trips.

  Most of the children had been adopted or exchanged for work at this point in our journey. There were five of us left including me and Eddie, a set of twin girls with criss crossed eyes, and a lad about the age of seven who was sullen and not so bright. The lad repeatedly hit himself in the forehead and screamed out curse words in feverish torrents frightening the smaller children on board.

  We donned our finest clothes, Agnes reminded us of our good manners and to smile big for the crowd, then we met up with the coordinating Sister who led us to the Towne Center for our appraisals. Few families had come in to see us but one family that was present was most certainly of the do-gooder variety. They had children of their own but felt it was Christian to adopt a child in need bringing them into the folds of their family showing them the ways of the Lord. The woman of the family held the Holy Bible tightly across her chest while glancing at the five of us before her. She whispered to her husband, a stout man with a neatly manicured mustache that curled up on each end. He pulled out his glasses and put them on his beady eyes glancing closer at the twins. They clasped their hands together and smiled their best smiles that to me seemed to make their eyes cross even more towards their noses. The family walked towards the girls for introductions and soon laughter ensued because the girls learned they were to be adopted by none other than an optometrist who could fit them with glasses to strengthen their eyes and redirect their gaze. They were giddy with excitement and the best of all they weren’t to be separated as other siblings before them had been. The six year old twins ran to say their good byes to Agnes and they hugged Edmund and me as well before skipping off hand in hand with their new parents.

  I smiled inside my heart because if two little girls with mousy hair and criss crossed eyes can get a family to love them then surely Edmund and I could. We just haven’t found them yet, or rather, they haven’t found us.

  The last three of us unclaimed children boarded the train with Agnes and headed back to New York City. I was looking forward to the hustle and bustle of the city after seeing so much boring countryside. The possibility that I might see Scotty again loomed large within me. I liked him, he was my one and only true friend in the city. I thought maybe he could ride the next train bound west with me and find a place of his own or at least good honest work that he could be paid for doing. Scotty had a tough exterior but I suspected he was soft on the inside like the rest of us.

  Our train pulled into the New York City Grand Central Station and rather than being met by large crowds milling about, kids selling the papers and or matches, we were met with emptiness.

  “What’s this?” Sister Agnes asked, searching the barren station.

  Spring brought a substantial rise and resurgence of cholera while we were traveling, the newspaper described it as an epidemic similar to the outbreak of 1831, one that took thousands of lives. Panic ensued. The widespread disease began taking lives shortly after we left on the orphan train. The Sisters remained healthy but many of the children from the slums were sickly or passed away. People in stagecoaches, livery coaches, or on horseback were leaving the city in droves. Inhabitants were forewarned not to eat or drink too heartily and not to sleep anywhere where there could be a draft.
Posters lined the train station telling people to tend immediately to problems of the bowels and not to take any medicine without doctor’s advice, not to get wet, and or drink cold water. Yet no one knew what really caused the cholera; only that it spread.

  The symptoms of cholera appeared instantly. Someone who appeared healthy in the morning could grow violently ill by mid-morning and have their skin turn a ghastly grey blue tint; they would become severely dehydrated and die shortly after. The city’s inhabitants walked on eggshells in fear for their lives.

  “Children, it has been decided that we will not stay in the city a moment longer than we have to with cholera rising once again. Prepare to load the train tomorrow morning as we are heading west at once. We will have a large group this time, so please, do your best to be courteous and kind to anyone in need.”

  Typically the Sisters would pre-arrange trips with very specific stops along the route however, in this emergent instance children frantically boarded the trains and set out for destinations unknown. The conductor agreed to stop in all major cities bound west in hopes of finding the children new homes.

  Edmund and I were once again under the guardianship of Sister Agnes as we headed north west. Our route was slightly different this time, as we would head further north and go further west. We had near one hundred children on our train; all the children less than six years of age were with us in coach, while the older children rode in the cramped quarters of the boxcars. It was my duty to help Sister Agnes with all the small children, not just Edmund. Edmund was growing more plump and cheerful and had several more words to his vocabulary. He could even recognize letters now when I read to him. Although his features grew darker he was a precious boy who would have no trouble being adopted this trip.

  We had two additional chaperones on our trip this run, Mr. and Mrs. Porter who helped with the infants, of which there were at least a dozen and a half. The infants needed constant dressing, changing, bundling, and feeding, which made me wonder why anyone who had a choice would prefer an infant to Eddie. I decided somewhat selfishly, I would train Eddie to use the potty like a proper big lad and alleviate the necessity to change his nappy. He did very well on his first few tries. The trick was getting him to realize when he had to make a dooty and tell me in time to get to the potty which was several cars behind us and therefore took some time getting to.

  Wanting very much to please me Eddie eventually succeeded in becoming potty trained increasing his odds of going to a good home. I imagined a loving young mother who would dote on him endlessly and a father that would teach him to chop wood and feed the barn animals. Eddie already knew all the sounds the barn animals made and could sing a few lines from ‘Mary had a little lamb’…it was quite precious.

  When I told Agnes of our success at potty training she pushed her frizzy brown hair behind her ears and pulled me in for a hug. It was the first hug I had received from an adult since my mother passed away and I stiffened at the sensation the embrace left me with.

  “You did well, Mary, now surely Edmund will be adopted and you can help me with the other toddlers in need of attention.” She gave me a quick smile and was off preparing for our first stop.

  As usual our first stop was in Pennsylvania and despite the fact our stop was not advertised in the paper it was a huge success, eight of the infants were given new homes and a dozen of the older children were exchanged for work to farms, mills, and even to hotels. Eddie and I were clinging to each other when a dapper couple came towards us. The young woman had brassy hair and a face full of freckles. Her curly locks attracted Edmund and as she approached he reached out to feel her tresses. She put her hands out in hopes Edmund would come to her but instead he clung tighter to me. I leaned into the lady with Edmund and tried to unhinge his little fingers from my dress. I asked him, “Eddie, what does the bunny do?” and he replied by squinting up his teeny nose and making a snuffling sound. The woman laughed at this and tried again to pry Eddie from my arms. After much coaxing with a grape sucker Edmund got down from my hip and stood at my side. His little hands held tight to my calico dress while he sucked his pop loudly and drooled out the side of his mouth. The woman and her husband asked if he was a bright boy, and did he sleep through the night, was he potty trained, did he have trouble hearing or seeing things? I answered all of the questions thoughtfully. I told them Eddie was the dearest child I had ever known, I told them of his nature to want to cuddle, how he liked to be sung to sleep and have his head rubbed. They were enchanted by him and decided that they would love nothing more than to welcome him into their home as their son. Tears filled my eyes. Eddie would have a loving home, a real family, and he could grow up to be a business man like his adopted father, or perhaps he could learn a trade. He would read and write, learn arithmetic and have a wife and children of his own one day. More than anything this family would see to his health and his ailing cough. He hardly noticed me as his new parents bribed him off the platform with stuffed animal toys and more treats.

  Feeling a kinship towards me, Agnes placed her hands upon my shrugged shoulders in comfort, “Mary, I will talk to the Sisters about having you assist me with other small children, would you like that?” I hugged Agnes and stifled my tears, “Yes, I would like that very much,” I said feeling my heart break at the loss of Edmund. I also felt saddened and suddenly very worried about my own future and what it would bring. Edmund had become a crutch and once again I was alone.

  Later I found out that Agnes had approached the family about adopting me as Eddie’s nanny, she showered me with praise for my ability to calm him when he was upset. But they declined, only having the financial capabilities to care for one child at this time.

  I had many other children to look after on the train but at every stop more of them were finding homes. Terrified siblings clung to one another in fear of being ripped apart; happily most of them were taken together on this journey. All the infants were gone and most of the older lads and gals were gone too.

  Agnes always talked up the clean air and when I closed my eyes I could taste it. I remembered the farm when both my mama and da were alive and we lived nestled in a two room split frame house with loft that my da built by himself. I had my own bed and starburst quilt and even had a window to see the constellations at night. The smell of fresh cut hay and the taste of the crisp apples that came from the trees by our stream filled my senses. I wished fervently that we could have stayed on that farm, that we could have figured a way, but the good Lord must have had a different plan in mind for me.

  One day on the train when the children were napping I sat next to Agnes and asked about her family. She cleared her throat before recounting her story to me, fondling the cross she wore around her neck all the while. Her mother was a German immigrant in New York City struggling to feed her three small children. Her father left her mother for days on end heading to the brothels or opium dens in The Five Points. Her mother, Anna, starved herself in order to feed her children the scraps she could beg or find in garbage cans around the city. Hearing the news her husband died in a bar brawl she was overcome with shock and walked away from her children for an entire day. When she returned she had food and drink, blankets and a few spare coins for emergencies. She began going out at night and returning in the early morning hours, often times she was drunk and always she was sore down there. She smelled of cheap perfume and male body odor and more than once she came home with large bruises across her face. Agnes recounted the time her mother’s wrist was broken and she cradled it in her other arm, still she was able to put food on the table for her small children. When Agnes was thirteen her mother was gone so much she had to quit school and watch over her siblings. She herself would venture out in the daytime to sweep storefronts or beg for coin for more food. One night her mother didn’t come home at all and she was found dead in the ally way near their small home in lower Manhattan. She had been brutally raped and beaten to death. They found her with no shoes, no skirt, just a torn shift and simple cross ar
ound her neck tied with shoestring.

  Agnes was separated from her siblings and brought to a corporately funded House of Refuge with hundreds of other neglected and abandoned children. The home for the refugees was poorly run and Agnes spent many pointless days scrubbing floorboards and washing windows. The children were given jobs to help keep them out of trouble but in many instances they were whipped and beaten or deprived of food if the overseer didn’t approve of their work. The children were often sickly and went without proper medical attention. Thankfully the Sisters of Charity were in need of a few young ladies to help them in the new journey they were set to begin across the countryside. The journey involved taking destitute children out of the filthy cramped city teaming with crime and delivering them to the countryside for a more healthy way of living. In return for the help the Sisters promised to bring children from the refuge home on their next trip west.

  Agnes fingered the smooth wooden cross around her neck, “This was my mother Anna’s. She did her best to care for us. I will never know what happened to my siblings, but my destiny now is to help all of these children, and you too.” A tear trickled down her cheek and she let it roll onto her habit, she had chosen a life of faith instead of the painful life of family. She opened her bible and began mouthing the words to her favorite psalm, “The Lord is my Shepherd…..”

  “How old are you, Agnes?” I asked interrupting her recitation.

  “I suspect I am nearing eighteen,” she answered without looking up from her bible.