Rory's Promise (11 page)

T
HE
F
OUNDLING'S C
A
R WAS DELUXE
A
CCO
MM
OD
A
TIONS COMP
A
RED to the Children's Aid Society car. The seats had leather cushions and the fittings were made of brass. Even if Rory had to share with fifty-seven runabouts, this was traveling in style.

Rory had barely gotten her bearings when Sister Eileen warned her that there was illness aboard. “Several of the children have bad stomachaches. I'm worried it's the start of an epidemic. In a tight space like this, it won't be any time at all before they all have it.” She paused. “Violet too.”

Rory knew all too well about disease. Her skin went cold at the thought of Violet sickening. “I'll look after her, Sister Eileen,” she promised.

As soon as she had a quiet moment, she sat down with Violet on the last seat nearest the door that led to the rest of the train. She sniffed and understood why the seat was empty. It was next to the toilet, a small separate room. Placing her
hands on Vi's shoulders, she said, “What's wrong?”

“I've got an ache in my tummy.” Violet curled up and held her stomach.

“Did you eat something bad?” Rory asked.

Violet shook her head.

Rory put the back of her hand on Violet's forehead. “You don't have a fever.”

There was a whooshing sound from the toilet room. Little William Norris scurried out of the toilet, his trousers around his ankles. “Violet,” he cried. “You were right. The little door opens up and the ground is moving so fast. You could fall right in!”

Violet's eyes were as wide as William's. “I know. I lost my favorite violet-colored hair ribbon. I won't ever go in there again.”

Rory considered the two children as she helped William pull up his trousers. “Violet, have you been to the bathroom since you got on the train?”

In a whisper, Violet answered, “I peed. But I couldn't do the other. I was too scared.”

“No wonder your stomach hurts! If I hold on to you so you can't possibly fall in, will you be able to go?”

Violet nodded meekly.

“You're a little fool,” Rory said as she led Violet to the toilet. “You could have made yourself sick.”

Violet stared down at her feet. “After you help me, can you hold William? And Katie? And Mary?”

Rolling her eyes, Rory nodded. So much for the epidemic.
These nuns really had no business venturing outside the Foundling.

After a long evening escorting the children to the toilet, Rory was dead on her feet. Fortunately so were the little ones. The conductor came in and helped the nuns and Rory transform the leather seats into cozy Pullman beds. What an improvement over sharing a hard bench with Brigid. As soon as she had the children in their nightclothes, Rory took the opportunity to stretch out and rest her feet. Violet snored gently as she snuggled, content, against Rory's back.

Rory couldn't sleep. She stared out the window at a world that was darker than Rory believed possible. The moon hadn't risen yet. The only light Rory saw was from the windows of scattered houses as the train chugged past them. She was drifting off to sleep when a sharp rap on the door between cars startled her awake. Her eyes darted toward the nuns and nurses, but they were sleeping soundly. Rory eased away from Violet's warm body and went to the door. For a moment she was surprised that it opened so easily. Then she saw that the door could not lock on the inside, probably for safety's sake. She opened the door just wide enough to peek out and saw Brigid, her black hair whipping in the wind. She pulled the door a bit toward her so Brigid could step in and then closed it quickly. It seemed they had been lucky. No grownup demanded to know who was visiting at such an hour.

“What are you doing here?” Rory whispered.

“I came to see how you are faring.” Brigid looked around
the luxurious car and whistled. “This is nice! I wish I was one of your orphans!”

“Shhhh!” Rory hissed. “Scoot into my bed so if they wake they won't see you.” Rory shifted Violet to one side to make room.

“A bed? You're living in style,” Brigid said. “We've got boys sleeping on the floor.” She glanced down at Violet. “Is this the famous Violet?”

Rory nodded.

“She's cute,” Brigid said. “Were the nuns very mad at you?”

Rory shrugged. “Mad enough. But they needed me too much to send me back.”

“Your plan worked.” Brigid fanned herself. “It's so hot in here. Why don't you open the windows?”

Rory explained that an ember from the engine had blown in and landed on one of the nurses' skirts. It started to smolder and the nurse had just escaped being burned. Since then, Sister Anna had ordered the windows shut.

“Golly,” Brigid said simply. “And I thought it would be dull back here.”

Rory guessed why Brigid was there. “I saved some food for you, so I'm glad to see you.”

Brigid stiffened. “That's not why I came.”

“I know,” Rory said. “But you shared your food with me. I was hoping to do the same.” She pulled out a thick sandwich made with fresh bread and a generous helping of beef.

Brigid sniffed and licked her lips.

“Also a couple of apples and some cheese,” Rory said.
“Maybe these will help you get through a few of those mustard sandwiches!”

“I thought nuns were poor,” Brigid said, stuffing the apples and cheese into her pockets.

“Not these nuns. They have generous friends. That's how they got this car.”

“Thank you for the food,” Brigid said, her mouth forming the words around a healthy bite of her sandwich. “Miss Worthington just told us that we don't have any more food until we arrive in St. Louis tomorrow afternoon.”

Rory stared. “But you'll all be starving by then!”

Brigid shrugged and tore off another bite of her sandwich. “Jack's so hungry that he's sworn he'll run away if he doesn't get a family that gives him a proper meal.”

“St. Louis … that's where you …” Rory trailed off.

Brigid nodded.

“It won't be so bad,” Rory continued. “You know the World's Fair is there?”

Brigid shrugged. “So?”

“Look at this.” Rory pulled out a booklet that Mr. Swayne had picked up in Philadelphia. “There's fountains and fireworks and exhibits from all over the world.”

Brigid wouldn't take the booklet. “I won't be seeing the fair. It's off to the block with me.”

“You don't know that,” Rory said. “Sister Anna said that sometimes the Children's Aid kids end up in really good homes. That'll be you.”

“Those Sisters sure do teach you to hope for the best,
don't they?” Brigid said.

In the darkness, Rory couldn't see her face, but Brigid sounded as though someone was choking her.

“But we know better. I've never had any luck before; why should I get a family now?”

“Because you deserve one,” Rory said simply. “I don't often do this, mind you, but I'm going to pray for you and the others to have enough food to eat, then I'm going to ask for you to get a good family.”

Brigid snorted and then almost giggled. “Do you think that'll work?”

Rory held out her hands. “Sister Anna always says that the Lord will provide.”

“Rory? Who are you talking to?” Sister Eileen appeared in the aisle, yawning. Brigid started as though she was about to bolt, but where could she go? Rory put her hand on Brigid's forearm and she went still.

“Sister Eileen,” Rory whispered. “This is my friend Brigid.” Sister Eileen wrinkled her nose. “She isn't from the Foundling, is she? Did she stow away too?”

Rory weighed the dangers of telling the truth to Sister Eileen. She was only a few years older than Rory. And she wasn't really a nun yet. She was training to be one. But since Sister Eileen had kept her promise to look after Violet, Rory decided to trust the novice. “She's traveling with the other orphans.”

“The Children's Aid Society children?” Sister Eileen was horrified. “Rory, she doesn't belong with us. She has to go
back immediately before she is missed.”

Brigid spoke up. “No one will miss me. Our minder, Miss Worthington, couldn't care less.”

“Still, you don't belong here.” Sister Eileen might be the newest Sister, but she could be as strict as Sister Anna.

“Sister Eileen, the Society children are starving. They didn't bring enough food for the journey.” Rory was certain if anything would sway Sister Eileen to their side it would be the thought of hungry children.

Sister Eileen's face clouded over. “Brigid, is that true?”

Brigid nodded. “We ran out of mustard sandwiches late this afternoon. There's nothing else but water.”

“Mustard sandwiches,” Rory said with emphasis on mustard. “No meat, no cheese. And now they don't even have that.”

“That's appalling!” Sister Eileen looked back into the car and reassured herself that they were unobserved. “Rory, get that box of bread and cheese. Throw some fruit in too.”

Rory was careful not to wake Violet. “What about Sister Anna?”

“I'll explain in the morning. But our Savior told us to care for the little children, not just the ones in our railroad car. She won't begrudge our charity.”

Rory packed the box, including some sweets that she knew Brigid would love. When she returned, Brigid got up to leave.

“I don't want to meet your Sister Anna. Good luck, Red,” Brigid said, holding out her hand.

“It's not goodbye,” Rory said. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Brigid's face was hidden in the shadows but her shoulders were slumped. Rory set down the box and hugged her friend.

For a moment, Brigid hugged her back then pushed Rory away as though she couldn't bear to be touched by someone who cared about her.

Sister Eileen held open the door and Rory handed Brigid the box of food. She leaned in and whispered, “See, ask and you shall receive! If God could answer the food prayer this fast, who knows what will happen tomorrow? He has all night to work on it.”

“Bye, Red.” With a nod, Brigid disappeared into the windy darkness between the cars.

Sister Eileen pulled the door closed. Crossing her arms, she faced Rory. “You shouldn't have let her come in,” she said sternly. “The door is locked for a reason.”

“Brigid was a good friend to me. She helped me sneak onto the train and hid me from the conductor.”

“I'm not sure that's how I would describe a ‘good' friend,” Sister Eileen said, but a whisper of a smile crossed her lips. “In any case, Rory, you mustn't trust the Children's Aid Society children. They're street kids. Criminals as often as not. I wouldn't be surprised if Brigid was a thief or a beggar in New York.”

“All of us,” Rory gestured to the rest of the sleeping children, “would be on the streets if it weren't for the Foundling.”

“All the more reason not to associate with the Children's Aid kids. We'll make sure you stay on a proper, decent path.”
Sister Eileen checked that the door was firmly closed. “Good night, Rory.”

If the likes of Brigid aren't decent
, Rory thought,
then the nuns don't know what they're talking about.
She'd never questioned the infallibility of nuns before, except where Violet's and Rory's futures were concerned. For a moment, she wondered if she'd be struck down for such disrespect.

Nothing happened.

“I guess they're wrong about that too,” Rory said to herself.

M
R.
S
W
A
YNE
MA
RCHED UP AND DOWN THE C
A
R LIKE
A
C
A
GED animal. Whenever Sister Anna was occupied, he tried to slip off to the smoking car, but Sister Anna caught him every time. Mr. Swayne had worked with Sister Anna for several years. It made Rory laugh to see the two arguing like an old married couple. Rory knew Mr. Swayne was a father. She thought he would have gotten accustomed to the noise of the children by now, but he tugged at his earlobes, as though he had an earache.

“Mr. Swayne,” Rory asked quietly.

“What is it, Red?” he asked.

Rory narrowed her eyes—she had grown to accept Brigid's calling her that, but she didn't like Mr. Swayne doing it. Even though he had argued with Sister Anna to let Rory stay, Mr. Swayne was not her friend.

After a moment she asked, “When do we get to St. Louis?”

“It's the next stop. In,” he consulted a silver pocket watch, “fifty-eight minutes. It's a shame we don't have time to get off and see the fair.”

“Will we be able to see it from the train?” Rory asked.

He nodded. “Better than nothing, I suppose.”

Sister Anna had approached silently and Mr. Swayne jumped when she touched his elbow. “Mr. Swayne.”

Rory tried to catch her eye, but Sister Anna purposefully avoided her. In fact, since Rory had talked her way onto the train, Sister Anna had barely spoken to her.

“We'll be delivering ten children in St. Louis.”

Ten! Rory wondered which children would be going. She'd miss each and every one of them.

“We'll have them ready,” Sister Anna continued. “I'll expect you to find the new families and verify their identities.”

“Sister, don't I always?” Mr. Swayne grinned.

“Which children?” Rory seized the moment to try and mend her fences. “Sister Anna, I can help.”

Her lips slightly pursed, Sister Anna considered and said, “Sister Eileen has their names.”

“Of course.” Rory gave her a big smile, but did not receive one in return. With a sigh, she said, “I'll start right away.”

Violet trailing at her heels, Rory made her way down the swaying car to find Sister Eileen, who was trying to grab one of the children to check his color ribbon against her list.

“Rory!” she cried with relief in her voice. “Can you tell me which one is Brendan Burns?” She checked the list. “He's number eight.”

Brendan was a mischievous four-year-old who was rolling on the floor, his arms wrapped about himself, giggling at Sister Eileen's predicament. He stopped laughing when Rory pointed at him. “That's Brendan.” Under her breath she muttered, “He's not a number—he's a person.”

“Aw, Rory,” he complained. “She never would have guessed!”

“Sister Anna said I should help you,” Rory said to Sister Eileen.

Sister Eileen pressed her palm to her heart. “Thank you,” she said. “Can you get Brendan ready?”

Rory and Violet took Brendan down to the buckets of fresh water that were loaded on the train each day to keep the children clean and decent. “Violet, you scrub his face. You'll have to use soap.”

A gleam in her blue eyes, Violet nodded. Rory went to the trunks of clothes and looked for the bundle marked with the number eight. She pulled out Brendan's brand-new sailor suit. Between Violet and Rory, they managed to wash Brendan, brush his mop of curly, sandy-colored hair, and wrestle him into his new outfit.

By the time Rory delivered Brendan, Sister Eileen and the nurses had managed to get the other nine children, mostly girls, presentable. Rory glanced around the train car and noticed more little girls than boys. She'd never thought about it before and asked Sister Eileen about this.

“Sister Anna told me that most families ask for girls. Perhaps they think that girls are easier to bring into a house.”

“Maybe,” Rory said, hoping it was good news for her and
Violet. If a family wanted one little girl, they might want two, especially when the older girl was expert at making herself indispensable. She thought back to her time with the Children's Aid Society kids. “But with Brigid's group, there were more boys than girls.”

“There's always a need for strong boys on the farms, so the Children's Aid Society brings more boys on the trains knowing they'll get chosen.”

“What about the girls?”

“They find homes too.” Sister Eileen patted Rory's arm. “I'm sure your friend will be fine.”

Rory wasn't so sure. Brigid wasn't strong enough to work on a farm. Every time she exerted herself, it took her ten minutes to get her breath back. And that cough didn't sound too good. What if no one wanted her? Brigid was tough and loyal—but those weren't qualities that a grown-up might notice at first. Rory would bet that families wanted girls to be sweet and cute, like Violet.

Rory could hear the whistle of the train and the sound of brakes being applied. Not enough to stop the train, but enough to slow it down.

Standing by the window, Mr. Swayne shouted out to the car, “We're crossing the Mississippi!”

All the children, nurses, and nuns rushed to the right side of the train. For a moment Sister Eileen cried out as though the train might tip over. Rory thought Sister Eileen was being silly; the train was stable, wasn't it? She nudged another child over so she could be next to Violet at the window. The train
was traveling over a wide river on a high steel bridge. Rory pointed to a boat passing beneath the bridge to Violet.

The
ooh
s and
aah
s of the others made her look up toward the city. Mr. Swayne was right; they could see the World's Fair grounds.

“Rory, it's just like the book!” Violet said. Rory had been reading and rereading aloud the booklet about the World's Fair to keep the children occupied. The Sisters had packed all the necessaries for a long journey, but hadn't thought much about entertainment.

“It's beautiful,” Rory whispered. She could see an enormous bright wheel turning slowly on the horizon. She wondered if it might spin off and roll across the prairies. If it raced the train, Rory bet it would win.

“How do they fit the whole world there?” Violet asked.

Rory smiled. “It's not really the whole world. But fifty countries and forty-three of the forty-five states have pavilions where they tell everybody about the best stuff they have.” She caught a glimpse of a rainbow of water. “Look, Vi, those must be the colored fountains we read about.”

When the train took a curve and the grand spectacle was lost from view, Rory and Vi sank into the seat.

“I want to see more,” Vi said. “Can we go inside that big wheel?”

“No, honey,” Rory said. “We won't be leaving the train.”

“I hate the fair,” Violet muttered.

Rory sighed. How silly to feel like she had lost something precious when she'd only glimpsed it from a train. But maybe
Vi was right—if they couldn't go to the fair, maybe it was better to not even catch a glimpse of it. “Vi, love, life is full of beautiful things we can't keep. But there's plenty of things we can hold on to.”

“Like Ma's necklace?” Vi asked slyly.

“You're a little scamp,” Rory said. “Just for that, the tickling monsters are going to get you!”

“Not the tickling monsters!” Vi shrieked with laughter as Rory pounced on her sister, tickling her under her knee and in the ribs.

A hand tugged on Rory's skirt. She stopped playing with Vi to see Brendan. His usual cheeky grin was gone. “Rory,” he asked, “what's going to happen to me?”

She knelt down to look him straight in the eye. “You are going home. A family has asked just for you and they're going to love you and take care of you forever.” At that moment, for Brendan's sake, she made herself believe it.

“Really?” His eyes were wide. “How do you know?”

She nodded. “Because if they don't, they'll have to answer to Sister Anna!” She lightly punched his arm. “And to me.”

Slowly a broad smile appeared on his lips. “All right.”

It seemed no time at all before the train pulled into St. Louis. The station looked like a fairy-tale castle, with turrets and a stone clock tower. As soon as the train hissed and whined to a halt, Mr. Swayne leapt down to the platform. Inside the car, Sister Anna collected the children who were being placed with St. Louis families. The little girls had their hair curled and wore the special pinafore dresses that made them
look like china dolls. Brendan in his sailor suit completed the angelic scene. Mr. Swayne hopped back into the train. “I've found them,” he said. “Father McMartin has them inside the depot.”

Sister Anna frowned. “Isn't there someplace more private for us to meet the parents?”

“Maybe when the World's Fair isn't in town.” Mr. Swayne's grin was crooked. When Sister Anna started to protest, he held up his hand. “But the stationmaster owes me a favor. He's letting us meet in his office.”

Sister Anna drummed her fingers on her list. After a moment, she said, “Very well. Lead the way.”

Mr. Swayne held open the door and helped Sister Anna to the platform, followed by each child accompanied by a nurse or a nun. Sister Eileen tried to take Brendan's hand. But he ran to Rory, hugging her so hard he almost knocked her over.

“Come with us, Rory,” Sister Eileen said sharply. She looked to the station to see Sister Anna and the others disappearing through a wide door. “Just so he doesn't make a fuss. Hurry!”