Rory's Promise (6 page)

R
ORY FOLLOWED
S
ISTER
A
NNA TOW
A
RD
A
W
A
ITING HORSE C
A
B. She hung back to rub the horse's nose, postponing the trouble she knew was coming. His coat was rough and his eyes were dull; the horse looked like he needed as much help as she did.

“Rory!” Sister Anna's voice made her start.

“Yes, Sister.” Rory climbed in. Sister Anna settled back in the seat as the cab lurched forward. Silence filled the cab and Rory wasn't interested in breaking it. She leaned away and pressed her ear into a leather seat that smelled of mold, her eyes fixed on the shadowy city passing by. She'd forgotten how loud the taverns could get, although she well remembered not being able to fall asleep at night. A woman in a scanty dress stumbled out of a tavern and hit the side of the cab. The cabbie shouted at her, using such language that Sister Anna covered Rory's ears.

“I've heard worse, you know,” Rory said.

“I know,” Sister Anna said sadly. “But no child should
hear such things.” She took Rory's hand and didn't let it go until they reached the Foundling.

Back home, Sister Anna brought Rory to the kitchen. Rory loved the Foundling kitchen. There was an enormous cast-iron stove in one corner and shiny copper pots hanging from the ceiling. Rory knew the cook's secret; there was a fat black cat that liked to sleep on the floor under the stove. Cook doted on the animal but Sister Anna would never allow her to keep it. As they walked in, Rory saw the tip of a black tail disappearing into the pantry.

The cook had kept a bowl of stew and fresh bread for her. Rory wolfed it down, all the while waiting for the axe to fall. Sister watched her eat, still silent.

Finally Rory could not stand to wait another moment. Stumbling over her words, she said in a rush, “Sister, I'll take any punishment you have for me if only you'll let me stay with Violet!”

“Rory …” Sister Anna sounded tired. “I don't want to punish you, but you have to face the facts. Violet is going.”

“I thought you cared about us,” Rory said, keeping her voice quiet. Sister Anna had rescued her and deserved a chance to explain. “After all we've been through, how can you split us apart?”

Sister Anna sighed and sank into a chair next to Rory. “Someday you'll see that I'm doing the right thing by Violet. I understand why you were upset. To someone your age, three years with your sister seems like an eternity. But we must move forward, and Violet needs a home.” She removed her
bonnet and placed it on the table then ran her hands through her short hair. “That's better. It's been a very long day.”

Rory stared, distracted by Sister Anna's never-before-seen hair. “You've got red hair too,” she said, wonder in her voice.

Sister Anna smiled. “Perhaps that's why I understand you so well.” She reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Rory's ear. “Today when you left my office …”

Heat flushed Rory's face to the tips of her ears.

“I was furious,” Sister Anna said. “And frightened. I am very glad that we found you and brought you back to where you belong. We see so many children. It doesn't do to get attached. But you, Rory, have managed to find a special place at the Foundling.”

Rory wiped the bowl with a bit of soft bread and waited. There had to be more.

“Rory, you have many good qualities. But you have just as many faults. The worst is how you tend to leap first and ask for permission afterwards. It shows that you don't respect authority. Orphans don't have that luxury.” Sister Anna sighed. “I wish they did.”

Relieved, Rory glanced up at Sister Anna. She was startled by the remnants of worry in Sister Anna's expression. How exhausting it must be, Rory thought, to be responsible for all of the children. Loving them but having to send them away all the same. Knowing some would succeed but many wouldn't. How could she do it?

Sister Anna folded her bonnet neatly over once, then twice, staring down at her hands. “We'll find something for
you to do here. You'll find it easier to say goodbye to Violet then.” She put her hands flat on the table and pushed herself up. “It's late and we've talked about this incident enough.”

“Sister, may I take a bath?” Rory scratched her head. “I'm afraid of what I might have picked up in jail.”

Clearing her throat, Sister Anna agreed. “Exactly what I was going to suggest.”

Rory gathered her courage. “Sister, what about Violet?”

“Come to my office after breakfast. We'll talk then,” Sister Anna insisted. “Now go get clean.”

T
he bathhouse was in another building but there was a long underground passage so the children and nuns didn't need to brace themselves against the outdoor weather in the colder months. Rory walked down the long, familiar tunnel, lit by electric light bulbs installed in the old iron gaslight fixtures. After visiting her old home, she couldn't believe how much she took for granted here at the Foundling. In Hell's Kitchen she'd never even seen a bathtub. Water had to be carried up the stairs from the one pump and then heated on the small stove and poured in a basin. But here she could just turn on the oversized metal bath knobs and hot steaming water cascaded into the porcelain tub with its clawed feet.

She took twice as long in the bath as she usually did, scrubbing hard to make sure she left the filth and lice of the jail behind. She wondered about the girl Brigid and if she had ever taken a long hot bath like this. There were definite
advantages to living at the Foundling. What else would she miss if she ever had to leave? Central heating. The plentiful food. The library. Even her little chats with Sister Anna.

She walked back through the tunnel, the concrete floor cold to her damp feet, and the electric bulbs flickering like lightning bugs. Sometimes, Rory thought, her place at the Foundling felt like one of these new bulbs in an old gas fitting. It shouldn't work, but somehow it did. A light bulb burst and died in a shower of sparks, leaving Rory to walk the last ten yards in near darkness. So much for staying at the Foundling. Maybe it was a sign. If Violet had to leave the Foundling, then Rory had to go too.

Clean and dry, she crept into the dormitory. Rory made a beeline past the other seventeen beds straight to Violet's. Her sister's hair, as red as Rory's, was splayed across the white pillow. She lay on her back, arms extended, snuffling as she slept. The marks of dried tears and snot streaked her face. Rory put her head in her hands and rubbed her scalp so hard it hurt. Her sister had cried herself to sleep and it was all Rory's fault. She pulled the blanket up to Violet's neck and for a moment rested her hand against her sister's forehead. She let Vi's steady breathing calm her. After a time, Rory felt the knots in her neck and shoulders dissolve. “Violet,” she whispered as she kissed her precious sister. “I'll never leave you again.”

T
HE NEXT MORNING
R
ORY KNOCKED GINGERLY AT
S
ISTER Anna's office door. The nun was sitting behind her desk examining a file. She closed it when she beckoned Rory to come in. Before Rory could get a word in, Sister Anna began speaking. “Our decision about Violet is final. I'm very sorry, Rory, but she leaves next week on the train out west.”

Rory took a deep breath and spoke rapidly. “Sister, they threatened to put me on an orphan train at the jail. The matron and the police officer thought it was just the thing for a delinquent girl like me.”

Sister Anna's mouth tightened. “That Officer O'Rourke! You are not going on a Children's Aid Society orphan train, and neither is Violet.”

“But she's taking a train—”

“The orphan trains you heard about are despicable. The Children's Aid Society doesn't select good Catholic homes for the children before they get on the train.” Almost as if
she was thinking aloud, Sister Anna went on, “Sometimes I wonder if that is their true purpose—to remove young Irish children from the streets and take them far away from the Church.”

“But what happens to the children?” Rory asked.

“The children can be claimed by almost anyone. The Society's recordkeeping is sloppy and sometimes they lose track of the children altogether. The children just vanish.”

“Will that happen to Brigid?” Rory asked.

“Was that your … cellmate?” Sister Anna asked.

Rory nodded.

“No doubt some find good homes, but not all. Not nearly all.” Sister Anna's eyes were bleak.

“How are your trains any different?” Rory asked.

“The agent and I write to parishes all over the country to find good Catholic homes. No one gets a child without a reference from the parish priest. I match the child to the family. We inspect the homes before they can keep the children.”

Rory considered Sister Anna's words. It sounded good, but who knew what happened in the world outside the Foundling.

“We don't ever forget them either,” Sister Anna continued. “We write to the families to see how the child is. And most important, the Foundling has the legal right to take the child back if the home is unsuitable in any way.” A shadow crossed her face. Rory wondered if she was remembering a child in trouble. “Sometimes we make mistakes, but we try to correct
them. Violet will be safe and happy. I guarantee it.”

Rory was going to have to think quickly to stay one step ahead of Sister Anna. “I know, Sister,” Rory said, staring at her feet. “If you've found the perfect family, you can't afford to lose this chance for Vi.” Behind her back, she crossed her fingers.

“Really?” Sister Anna sounded surprised. She examined Rory's face, her eyebrows raised. Rory steeled herself to meet the nun's searching look without flinching.

“Of course, Sister. But I wonder … Do you think I could write to her? She's the only family I have.” Without much effort, Rory let her voice tremble. “Even if we aren't together, I can't lose her completely.”

“Perhaps,” Sister Anna said slowly. “It's irregular, but not unheard of.”

“Thank you.” Her initial purpose was achieved. Now Sister Anna would tell her where Vi was going. Time to distract her further. Rory asked, “Sister, what about me?”

“You've been very helpful with the babies,” Sister Anna began.

Rory grimaced. She had quite enough of changing diapers and braiding hair. “But you don't really need me for that.”

“Your schoolwork is good. Especially your writing and reading. You could study to become a nun,” Sister Anna spoke persuasively.

“Become a nun?” Rory took a step back. “I want a life. No offense intended.”

“None taken, Rory.” Sister Anna's lips twitched. “Well,
we could apprentice you. Perhaps as a typewriter, although your training class with Sister Mary Alice did not go well.”

“Who knew all those keys could get so tangled?” Rory said.

“You could learn a skill like glove making or sewing.”

Rory shook her head. “Have you seen my stitches? Sister Barbara says they will be the death of her. And when I tried to make gloves, I was all thumbs.” She held up her hands in a helpless gesture.

Sister Anna laughed. “Perhaps not sewing. What about studying to be a teacher? Or a governess?”

Rory shook her head. She wanted a future that didn't re-quire taking care of small children. Except for Violet, of course.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Sister Anna asked.

After a moment's hesitation, Rory, staring at the floor, said, “I like to tell people what to do. Maybe I should be a boss of something.”

Sister Anna didn't say anything. Rory peeked and saw that Sister Anna had pressed her hand against her mouth and was quivering with pent-up laughter.

“Sister! Are you laughing at me?”

“No, of course not.” But Sister Anna's voice was strangled. “A boss sounds excellent. Do you have any ideas of what kind of boss?”

“Not yet,” Rory said, glaring at Sister Anna suspiciously.

“Before you can be a boss, you might have to learn to take orders,” Sister Anna said helpfully.

“Oh.” Rory thought for a bit. “If being a boss doesn't work out, maybe I should write stories.”

“That's no way for a young lady to make a living,” Sister Anna said.

“I could write for a magazine.” Rory grew more excited. “How hard could it be to write a
Wild West Weekly
story? All I need are cowboys, Injuns, six-shooters, and mustangs.”

Sister Anna's face appeared so tightly pinched her ears seemed to move together. “I see I shall have to keep a closer eye on your reading habits.” She pressed her palms together. “I'll have a good think about your future and we'll talk later. But for now, we have to arrange the sewing.”

“Sister, perhaps you misunderstood about my stitches? All thumbs!”

“Dear, we have fifty-seven children to take west. They'll each need a new outfit. And we sew colored labels into their collars to make sure that each child goes to the location I've chosen for him or her.”

“Can Violet's be violet-colored?” Rory asked, making her voice wistful, as though Violet was already gone. “She would like that.”

Sister Anna reached across the desk and patted Rory's hand. “I think that can be arranged. And don't worry, Rory. Violet will be happy.”

“I know.” Rory's voice sounded convincing. Violet would be happy because Rory was going to be with her. Even if she had to go as far west as the Pacific Ocean to make that happen.