Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider

by Julie Dewey

  We spoke about looking for Eli one day, and Scotty said he would like that.

  Scotty anchored me to place and time. He didn’t pretend around me and never wavered in who he was. He was a hardworking, loyal friend. He liked me with long or short hair, was not intimidated by my smarts or the fact I studied hard and loved books, he took it as much a part of me as the bridge of freckles running across my nose. Often at night after running wild through the woods and fields we would find a tree and nuzzle against it together. His arm would drape casually across my shoulders and I would listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. Sometimes I twirled my fingers through his curly hair and studied his profile. He was not handsome in a traditional way, but his features were symmetrical and manly. He was muscular from his chores and rugged too. He often spit chew in front of me or swore like a ruffian, a gentleman would never be so brazen to offend. But Scotty knew I didn’t offend easily. He was the one person that treated me like I wouldn’t break. Perhaps this is what drew me to him.

  One night, after staring up at the stars and making wishes on the brightest one, I listened to his heart-beat; it was not its steady self but fluttered. He released his arm from behind my head and without a pause he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were soft as a peach and slightly moist. His stubble scratched at my skin but I didn’t mind.

  After he kissed me he studied my face for a reply. He laughed nervously, but then I reached out for him and pulled him back. We fumbled a bit until we found our rhythm and laughed when our lips both became chapped. The first times our tongues touched we both flinched with the excitement the new sensation brought.

  After that night everything changed. I found Scotty’s kisses to be entrancing and thought of little else. They brought forth a longing from me as well as neediness from him. If he wasn’t able to make it down to my house in town more than a few times a week I grew sullen. I feared the worst, that I had done something wrong. That he didn’t like the way I kissed, or worse, he didn’t like me anymore after kissing me. Perhaps he thought I was too forward and brazen or didn’t like my breath.

  I was wrong. He felt the longing too and it distracted him from his farm work. He was infatuated by my mind as well as my body, and told me so in spoken and written words. His letters professed his love simply but beautifully. He struggled with writing, but his taking the time to write notes enthralled me all the more.

  Scotty was very complimentary, always making me feel beautiful and also acknowledging that I was a young woman now. “Mary, I declare you have the most beautiful smile I have ever witnessed, it lights up your whole face.” He exclaimed one night after kissing me. He admired my eyes and the smoothness of my skin as well. But it wasn’t my physical attributes that drew Scotty to me, he often remarked on my spirit, telling me I was strong and brave, he admired the genuine kindness I showed to others and the confidence with which I carried myself. He also liked my odd sense of humor. We both found certain bodily functions to be hilarious and any other young lady would exclaim to be repulsed, whenever Scotty burped or farted I laughed out loud, thinking of the Canter boys, if it wasn’t one it was another tooting and burping all day long.

  On one night he presented me with a gift, it was an oval shaped locket with an engraving of a meadow on it. He had been saving his allowance since he started work and wanted to buy something special for me. “It’s for the photo of you and your mother,” he said as he lifted my hair out of the way and attached the clasp. It was the loveliest most thoughtful gift I had ever received and promised to treasure it and wear it always.

  I was unable to sleep at night and spent the daytimes drowsy. Scotty filled my heart and soul. He was my friend and my confidant. Was it love? If so it was very different from the love I felt towards Edna and Pap. It was a feeling in my stomach much like butterflies whenever I ran to meet him, his embrace secured me, it gave me a home and in his arms I felt whole. His kisses awakened the woman in me and as we became older our bodies responded with urgency to one another. We spent many nights in the grass kissing and guiding each other with what little skill we had, fumbling as we learned.

  In the winters our meetings were scarcer and we grew feverish with want. When we finally had opportunity to meet our sense of desire and urgency cast all propriety and fear of consequences aside. We lay down in snow banks, haylofts, outcrops, anywhere we knew we wouldn’t be discovered. I inhaled his mingling scent of farm and masculinity. He inhaled what he said I smelled like, simply ‘home’.

  I was overcome with feelings and needs that were unquenchable. One night we were both so tired from our tryst that we fell asleep in each other’s arms, waking at sunrise and fearing we would be found out. He ran all the way back to the farm and I to the house, sneaking in just in time to start the tea for the morning before Edna came in, surprised to see me up and about. I told her, it was high time I spoiled her for once and bade her to sit and let me make the mornings breakfast. She was delighted at my thoughtfulness and I was sickened by my betrayal.

  We continued like this in secret because Edna and Pap didn’t feel Scotty was a good suitor for me. He dropped out of school and had no means of providing for a wife. They paraded me in front of their friends’ children, setting up would be matches with older boys who were to become law students, pharmacists, bankers and the like. I was pleasant and carried on my part of the conversation so as to keep Edna and Pap from learning I was already in love. I cared not what kind of money my love had, but rather how he treated me. I was to be a teacher anyway and could support myself if need be. Scotty asked my opinion on matters, we talked philosophically and he wasn’t at all put out that I wanted to work. Many of the suitors I attended teas with deferred to Pap for my opinion on politics, religion, business, and even personal matters. The men, several who I went to school with, and who called me tomboy, were just as uncomfortable as I was in our being set up. Other young suitors were far too dapper and full of pretense; they didn’t suit me well at all. I wasn’t one for velvet collars and stiff white dress shirts with flaming cravats, I preferred soft worn work shirts and suspenders. Some of my suitors put more time and care into the way they dressed than I did for heaven’s sake! In fact Edna was always laying out my dresses so I hardly put energy into my attire at all.

  One particular morning while Edmund was out throwing papers onto sidewalks, he managed to catch me at four-thirty a.m. as I stumbled, hair tousled, lips chapped, towards the door. He had seen our passion filled embrace, and fondling, and though he was merely a boy he was enraged and full of jealousy.

  “What in the world are you doing outside with him?” he whispered to me in the dark, his voice imposing and full of hatred.

  “It’s not what you think, Edmund!” His anger startled and confused me. I had never seen him this way.

  “Well then explain it to me,” Eddie threatened.

  “I love him, what else matters?” I asked.

  Edmund’s eyes seethed with hatred, his hands remained clenched tight in fists and for a brief moment I feared he might actually hit me. When he raised his hands I flinched, startling him.

  “Do you think for one second I would hit you? Don’t you know that I love you? That you are all that matters to me? That I think about you day and night, and nothing else?” He took steps towards me his eyes holding my gaze.

  “I don’t know what to say, Edmund, I am sorry. I don’t return your feelings. I love you, but not in the same way.”

  “How could you let him grope you like that? It’s disgusting; I ought to have him arrested,” he ruminated.

  “Edmund, No! I am willing, we wish to marry….” I begged him to keep the matter between us.

  “It seems to me he has no respect for you if he is sneaking around at night pawing at you like a common wench!” He stepped lightly towards me grabbing my wrists before continuing, “He is wrong for you, he is nothing but a farmhand, and you are educated and beautiful….”

  “Edmund, let go. You are hurting me, let go!” I had to kee
p my wits about me, but this was all wrong. He grasped my wrists tighter, pulling me to him, kissing my lips and pushing me against the kitchen wall.

  I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. “Never do that again.” With that I turned and left, climbing the staircase quietly and locking the bedroom door behind me. Edmund was but a child in a man’s body, he did not possess me, but was acting as if he did.

  Edmund confided the matter to Sarah who discussed it with Edna. I was forbidden from seeing Scotty again.

  “You can’t tell me what to do! You aren’t even my real parents! I will leave then, I am nearly old enough to teach and earn a living anyway!” I was overcome with fear of losing Scotty and eager to hurt my guardians any way possible. How could they understand what he meant to me when they had never had anything taken away from them, theirs was nothing more than a life of riches.

  I grew forlorn; I withdrew from everyone and everything except my studies. I refused to discuss the situation. Edna tried speaking to me, softening me with new yarns, or fabrics for clothing. She even tried tempting me with new books of poetry with female authors. As much as I wanted the books, I would not let her buy my sacrifice with tokens such as these. No. I grew thin and abandoned my hair all together, letting it grow and hang in greasy untended curls. I went to bed early and woke to face the day only with enough time to walk to school, skipping breakfast and lunch all together. I walked with my head down; I refused to look anyone in the face. They were all traitors. Taking us in and telling us we would be welcomed, yet at the first sign of trouble they cast Scotty out. It bothered folks that Scotty and I were different. We didn’t belong here and we both knew it. We had a hard edge to us, a skepticism and concern over our next meal, although we both had been provided for, that never goes away. The feeling hunger leaves in your gut stays with you, always.

  When Edmund came to see me I ignored him. It was his fault anyway. It was creepy the way he always showed up at my side and I was growing weary from it. The kiss and the uncommon threatening demeanor he displayed had me frightened. I wanted my own life, wanted to fall in love with whom I pleased and whom I knew to be good.

  “Go away, Edmund!” I yelled at him more than once, sick of his looming presence.

  There had to be a way around this and I would find it if it meant running away.

  I desperately missed my parents, sometimes wishing for my own death so I could be near them again. I had forgotten the sound of my da’s voice long ago, and my mother’s was fading each year. I cried for my loss, felt sorry for myself, and found it difficult to break through this torment. Everything I loved was taken from me and I was tired with grief.

  Chapter 10

  Ours was a private affair that carried on for years before we were discovered by Edmund who ratted us out. Finding ways to see one another since then, over the last two years was difficult, we hid letters in rocks along her fields denoting where and when we should meet. For a while Pap slept sentry on the davenport, making sneaking out impossible for her. So we met mid-day, often in the hayloft at the farm where we had privacy, Mary under the guise that she was at school tutoring or at the library studying. Deciding that nothing and no one would keep us apart, the deceit was worth the risk.

  Now that I was twenty and Mary was turning nineteen in a week, we could begin courting in public, no more sneaking around as we had been. Our time spent entwined brought us close in ways unimaginable and I feared we would not be able to keep ourselves from making love soon. We had experienced passion and pleasure at the hands of one another and confessed our deepest love. We longed for each other when not together and at times I found myself milking a dry cow I was so lost in the thought of Mary.

  Her round, grey eyes sparkled and spoke to me without the need for words. Her hair was past her shoulders in soft auburn waves, often braided at night, which was good because it stayed out of our way. I knew what made her tingle and how to pleasure her until she was exhausted from the experience and could only collapse, spent in my arms. We talked of marriage, we talked of making love, the importance of waiting, and we talked about our other dreams. Where did we want to live, where would we honeymoon, and what were we going to name our children?

  She had grown into a beautiful young woman before my very eyes and at times it was all I could do to keep it in my pants. I often had to take care of myself before running to meet Mary or I would burst at her touch.

  I would ask Pap for his permission to court Mary and become betrothed; surely he would see that Mary and I belonged together. It made perfect sense given our history. I could only hope he had put the mishaps at school and with sneaking out, years ago, behind them as I had, letting bygones be just that.

  ***

  I spent several nights birthing calves with Mr. Wright; one was difficult because it was turned sideways. We had to apply pressure to the stomach and try to move it with our hands, finally Mr. Wright asked me to scrub up. I had to go inside the heifer and attempt to turn the calf internally. I had blood and insides soaked up to my shoulders, the work was more physically taxing than anything I had encountered before. I suddenly thought of my fights, they were challenging in a different way. This heifer depended on me now and with that thought I broke into a full sweat. I didn’t want to hurt the heifer, she was in enough pain and her demeanor told me she was giving up. I found a hoof and scrawny leg and pulled with all my might, beckoning her to stay with me. Finally after hours of gently nudging and pulling, she budged. The calf was born alive and although the heifer died, it was considered a success at having saved the newborn.

  The Wrights wanted to celebrate with me and asked me to spiff up and join them in town for dinner.

  I was surprised but honored, after many years of working for them they had never asked me join them while they dined in public.

  We went in their carriage to a tavern in town that purchased our beef. I grew nervous on the ride into town, having never dined in a proper establishment before. I suddenly grew self-conscious, but once inside the place that quickly ended. The atmosphere was comfortable and people were engrossed in their own conversations and having a laugh.

  Our waitress was energetic and overly attentive. She spilled soda on my lap and grabbed tonic to mop my breeches much to my embarrassment. She left with a wink and nodded me towards her in the back room. I wasn’t leaving my company on account of her and stayed right where I was, thank you very much.

  “Boy, you did well today. You birthed that calf with the skill of a true farmer. You made us proud, and we wanted to thank you.” Mr. Wright patted Mrs. Wright’s hand and together they smiled at me putting me further at ease.

  I was going to speak but he continued.

  “You’re a man now, which means you can leave us any time you wish. You no longer have to work for your board, in truth we need to begin paying you for your time. You can stay in the barn if you wish for a small rent, but there is another idea we had.” He drummed his fingers on the table.

  “The Mrs. and I are getting on in age and we are plum tired. We are thinking of selling. It’s just too much work for us anymore. Our boys don’t want farm work, they never did and we wouldn’t sell to just anybody. We think highly of you, Scotty, you never complain and are very competent. So I suppose we want to know if you are interested.” Mr. Wright wiped his mustache with his napkin and waited for a response.

  This was my big chance, a farm of my own!

  “Yes! I am interested, I enjoy the farm more than I ever thought I would, but I don’t have enough money saved to buy it outright, how could it work?” I was perplexed but Mr. Wright had some ideas and we began talking them over.

  After dinner I ran to Mary’s summoning my courage to speak with Pap. I knocked on the front door and he answered immediately.

  “Sir,” I said nervously, “I wish to begin seeing Mary formally and I wanted to ask your permission before taking her out on our first date.”

  “It seems to me boy you should have asked my permission
long ago. Before you began sneaking out at night with my daughter and treating her like anything but a lady.”

  “I am buying the Wright farm, the paperwork is being put together now, sir. I can offer her a good life, I promise. You must know I love her, she is the only one.” I pleaded, not surprised he would throw the past in my face.

  “So you want her to be a farmer’s wife. Hmmmm, I wonder how long that will work. She being educated and used to such niceties as we have provided her. No boy, if you love her, you will leave. You will want better for her than just being a farmer’s wife, or a thief’s wife. Phfff.” He blew air out his mouth.

  “Now get out of here before you embarrass yourself.” With that he slammed the door shut before I could utter another word.

  The defeat I felt was worse than being beaten in New York City by the Rabbits. Surely this is not what Mary would want. She loved me for who I was and our conversations were never lacking, were they?

  I went home to plot this out, but when I reached the barn I knew something was dead wrong. Dozens of cows were out to pasture and it was far too late for that. The horses were stirring and the Wrights were standing about.

  “What happened?” I cried as I ran towards them.

  “You tell us. Maybe you know something we don’t.” Mr. Wright looked forlorn and wiped a tear from his eye.

  I walked into the barn and found the new calf dead on the ground, as well as several other laboring heifers. They were killed, intestines and blood spilled across the hay.

  I ran towards the calf, dropping to her side. I put my head beside her mouth listening for breath; she wasn’t bloodied like the other animals, so perhaps she had a chance. I began chest compressions and Mr. Wright came to stop me.