Whistle-Stop West (4 page)

Hull-House was in the middle of a huge, busy city. How anyone could bear to live there, Chad didn't know. As he and Manda sat in the office waiting for the children to be brought to them, he was thankful for the open prairies of his Nebraska home. As soon as the business had been completed, he was ready to take the first train back.

Not so, Manda.

“How often will we have a chance to look around a big place like this?” she'd asked. “Leave the children here for another day, and we can see the sights.”

See them they did, Chad remembered. By the end of the day, he was more exhausted than he would have been after working all day in the fields. City life was not for him.

The following morning he departed happily for Willow Creek, Nebraska, with his newly acquired family.

From the beginning Frances clung to him. She was smaller than Chad had expected for an eight-year-old. Her short brown hair and large, dark eyes gave her an appearance of helplessness and innocence.

“Not very pretty, is she?” Manda commented. “Maybe she'll grow out of it.”

The baby was ready immediately to love everyone, and Manda directed all of her attention toward him. This was probably the reason, Chad thought, that he had pampered and spoiled Frances until now. At the age of thirteen, she was sometimes impossible to live with. In fact, she was partially responsible for the events that troubled him today.

When Robbie was five and a half years old, Frances had been left to watch him while Manda was occupied in the house. The girl's attention was on other things, and she didn't try to stop the little boy from walking on the thin ice covering the creek. When she pulled him, shivering, from the water, her biggest fear was the wrath of her mother. Frances delayed taking Robbie to the house as long as she dared. The result was pneumonia, and the following week, Robbie died.

Frances was inconsolable. Manda refused to talk about it. Chad was torn between sadness at the loss of the little boy and his inability to understand his wife and daughter.

That was last year.

Then this past April, a newsletter had arrived from Briarlane Christian Children's Home. Frances had been the first to see it.

“Papa, this letter says that the home has four children from one family that they want to send out on the Orphan Train. There's one little girl and three boys. I think we should get them. I'd like a sister, and we need a boy to replace Robbie. You'd better write to them before someone else does.”

“Four children, Frances? Are you out of your mind?” Manda was certainly not in favor of the idea. “Maybe the two youngest boys, but not all of them. We don't need that many.”

Frances cried and begged.

“Life couldn't be any more miserable around here with four more children than it is now,” Chad declared after several days had gone by with no peace. “I could use the older boys around the place, and you'd have another baby to spoil.”

“If you hadn't given Frances everything she's wanted for five years, it wouldn't be this miserable,” Manda had grumbled. “You'll go ahead and do it again, I've no doubt. I can only hope someone has already asked for them.”

But no one had, and the train was at this moment bringing the Cooper children closer to Willow Creek. Chad watched his house and barn grow larger as he approached.

Worse, before the train arrived, he had to break the news to Manda about the homesteading claim in South Dakota. At the end of the summer, Chad would leave to survey the new territory and find a spot to build their house, but the family wouldn't move till next spring. Since they'd have to work the land for a year, Chad's brother had agreed to handle the farm in Nebraska until they returned. The four new children would have to come with them to South Dakota, of course. Maybe those orphan boys would come in handy to help clear the ground and work on the new land. They might as well be doing that. Chad was sure they wouldn't be likely to improve Manda's temper. That wasn't even a possibility.

Ethan awoke to voices at the other end of the coach. He sat up and looked around. On the seat facing him, Bert still slept soundly. The sky was getting lighter, but it appeared to be very early. As he gazed out the window, still drowsy with sleep, Ethan listened idly to Riley and Mr. Glover.

“Are you always awake this early?” Riley was asking.

“Yes. I need to get ready for the day. It's the only time I have to read my Bible and pray before everyone is awake.”

“You read your Bible to yourself every day?”

Charles Glover admitted that he did.

“Matron reads to us every morning, and we always have Sunday school on Sunday afternoon,” Riley said. “I've heard a lot of the Bible, but I never read it myself.”

“It's time you did,” Charles told him. “You're old enough to read and understand it on your own.”

“Don't have a Bible.”

Charles nodded. “I suppose not. But I'll see that you get one before you leave the train. You need to start learning verses. If you memorize them, they have a way of coming back to you just when you need them.”

“I do know a few verses,” Riley said, “and I remember a lot of stories. But I suppose there's a bunch I haven't heard yet.”

Ethan's mind wandered away from the conversation as he recalled the noises he'd heard in the night. He wasn't sure he hadn't dreamed it, but it had seemed real then. As the train chugged around a curve, he looked back at the cars that still followed them. There were three freight cars and one more passenger coach on the end. They must have picked up a lot of mail and baggage in Davenport.

Bert awoke, yawned, and stretched. He eyed Ethan and frowned. “How come you woke me up in the night? Who'd you think was in here?”

So he hadn't dreamed it. Ethan shrugged.

“I don't know. It sounded like something with awful big feet and a loud voice.”

“What'd it say?”

“What do you mean? It didn't say anything—just made a lot of noise.”

“You was dreaming,” Bert decided. “Nobody else heard it, did they?”

“I guess not. But I was awake enough to wake you up.”

Bert couldn't deny that. The boys folded their blankets, then headed for the washroom. Matron had promised a thorough scrubbing later, so a dab of the face and a brush through the hair took care of their preparations for breakfast.

The others were soon ready, and Matron and the girls appeared with hard-boiled eggs, bread, and cocoa. As a special treat, each child was given an orange.

“I was going to save these for noon,” Matron told them, “but if you're going to get sticky, do it now before we begin baths. Mr. Glover tells me that we'll reach one of our stopping places this afternoon.”

Silence fell over the group, and they regarded each other fearfully.

“Which of us is gonna get took, miss?” The question came from one of the Chicago boys.

“I don't know, Pete,” Matron replied. “That will be up to the people who come to see you. Do you all remember what we are to do when they take us to a church or a town hall?”

Heads nodded solemnly. Now that the time had come to be parted from friends and those they depended upon, the children weren't as sure about this adventure as they had been.

“As soon as we've had prayers this morning, we'll go over the song together and practice the pieces you're going to say,” Matron said. “You will all do just fine.”

Philip shuffled his feet. “I think I'm going to be scared. What if I forget what I'm s'posed to say?”

“Just look smart,” Bert advised him. “Sometimes if you keep your mouth shut, people think you're smarter than you are.”

Mr. Glover gave Bert a look of respect at the excellent advice.

But Matron swiftly reassured the boy. “Don't worry, Philip. You've been saying it a long time, so you won't forget. The Bible says, ‘What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee.' Who is this One we trust in?” she asked.

“Jesus!” chorused the Briarlane children.

“I don't trust nobody,” Arthur stated. “Who's this Jesus fella, anyway? I don't know Him.”

The orphanage children looked at Arthur in horror, then back at Matron. What would she do to a boy who talked like that?

To Ethan's surprise, Matron's eyes filled with tears.

“We want you to know Him, Arthur. He is the Son of God, and He came to earth to die because He loves you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you and all of us.”

Arthur scanned the circle of faces. “You ain't stringin' me, are you?”

“Of course she ain't!” Shala looked outraged. “It's right here in the Bible. Just look at it for yourself.”

“I can't read no Bible,” Arthur muttered.

“You neither? Well, never mind. We'll read you the story about Jesus if you want to hear it.”

“Yeah, we can even tell it to you,” Bert put in. “Ain't you never been to church or Sunday school?”

“Nope,” Arthur declared. “Didn't know there was such a place until Mr. Glover brung me to Hull-House. I wasn't there very long, but I heard a story about a man who got beat on by some thieves, and two guys wouldn't help him, but then a third guy did. Was that one Jesus?”

“No,” Matron replied, “but that man was acting the way Jesus wants us to act. This is a story Jesus told to the people. We'll hear more stories, Arthur, while we're on the train. And you'll have a chance to go to church with the new family you live with.”

After prayers, the children practiced the song they had learned to sing to the people who would come to look them over.

If I only had a home, sweet home, someone to care for me,

Like all the other boys and girls, how happy I would be!

A kind papa and mama dear, to call me all their own,

This world would be like sunshine if I had a home, sweet home.

Everyone sang loudly and as much in tune as possible. Matron and Mr. Glover agreed that the children had done well. Some of them sang little songs by themselves or recited poems that were sure to impress the listeners.

My name is Nell,

And I can tell

That you are good and kind.

If you will take me home with you,

I'd promise I will mind.

As you can see, I'm big and tall

And strong as I can be.

You won't have to work so hard

If you had a boy like me.

It was Arthur, however, who won the admiration of everyone with his acrobatics. He walked on his hands, did back and front flip-flops, and rolled like a ball down the train aisle.

“He looks like he don't have any bones,” Bert commented. “I wish I could do that.”

“You could if you practiced,” Arthur told him. “It's better to try it on the grass, though. You need lots of space to learn.”

Ethan watched all this activity with interest. There was no reason for him and his siblings to recite poems or perform. They had already been chosen.

“You're lucky,” Bert said. “I'd like to know where I'm going.”

“I don't know where I'm going,” Ethan replied. “Just because a family spoke for me doesn't mean they'll like me.”

This was the fear of most of the older children. What if the families who chose them decided later that they didn't like them?

Matron tried to reassure everyone. “The Lord has promised to guide us with His eye. He's not going to lead us the wrong way, is He? We're going to trust Him for good homes for all of you. Now, let's make ourselves presentable for our first stop.”

The next hour wasn't enjoyed by everyone. The older boys and girls helped scrub the younger ones. Hair was washed and brushed, and new clothes were put on.

“Matron, I'm not going to have no skin left if Riley don't let up,” Pete complained. “Them's freckles he's trying to rub off.”

“Mr. Glover, young Billy's curling his toes up, and I can't get his shoes on,” Philip complained.

Young Billy was only three and had been new to Briarlane. But when Bert and Ethan's friend Billy, who was the same age as them, had chosen not to go on the train, it had seemed fitting to all that young Billy would take his place.

Shala scolded Alice. “Now see what you did to your sash! I tied it just perfect, and you had to turn it around to look at it!”

Finally, however, everyone was neatly dressed and combed, and Charles Glover looked them over with satisfaction. “As nice looking a bunch of children as I've ever had,” he declared. “We'll be proud to show them to the people in Liberty.”

Fortunately, the town of Liberty wasn't far away. The train began to slow, and as many faces as possible pressed against the windows. Everyone wanted to be first to catch a glimpse of the station. The children spoke together in whispers.

“You're allowed to talk out loud, you know,” Charles said. “We want these folks to think they'll be getting real children. You can always hear that kind.”

“We've been hearing them for several days,” Matron added with a roll of her eyes. “I'll tell the folks how real they are.”

“We're scared, miss.” A little Chicago boy turned from the window. “I weren't never scared on the streets, but I am now. What are we going to do with all that space?” he pleaded. “There's nothin' to hide behind.”

“What's there to hide from?” Philip wanted to know. “Is someone after you?”

Arthur looked at Philip kindly. “If you was safe in an orphanage every night, you wouldn't know it. We lived on the street and slept in doorways at night, mostly. There was lots of things to hide from there.”

The Briarlane children regarded Arthur with awe. He slept in doorways in that big, noisy city?

“What did you eat?” Bert asked.

“Anything we could find. Lots of restaurants threw things out in the alley, and we picked food up. Sometimes we snitched fruit from the stands.”

“You mean you took it when they weren't looking?”

Mouths of the Briarlane children hung agape.

Arthur hedged, as if realizing this wasn't a good thing to talk about. “Well, sometimes the owners would give us what was left over at the end of the day. We didn't snitch a whole lot.”

“The folks at Hull-House were good to us,” Trudy put in. “They took in all the kids they could there. Nobody else ever gave us brand-new clothes before.”

“That's why we believed 'em when they said we'd get new homes out here, and people would want us,” Nell added.

“We're going to see who wants us this time,” Shala declared as the train lurched to a stop.

The children turned again to the windows and gazed at the crowd that lined the platform. There were farmers in overalls and straw hats, and businessmen in fine suits. Women in sunbonnets and apron-covered cotton dresses mingled with ladies wearing the latest fashions in gowns and feathered and beribboned hats.

“Stay right here until I come back for you,” Charles Glover instructed. “I'll make arrangements with the townsfolk and find out where we're to go.”

“Do you see someone you'd like to go home with?” Alice whispered to Betsy.

“There's a lady who's smiling and waving,” Betsy said. “She looks nice. But I think I'd rather stay with you. I'd like us to go to the same town.”

Alice nodded. “I'd like all of us to go to the same place. Even Philip.”

“Philip always teases you. Why would you want him?”

“'Cause I know him,” Alice replied. “I feel better with people I know, even if I don't like them very much.”

Betsy seemed to understand this, and the girls continued to watch the people outside.

At another window, Ethan and Bert were doing the same.

“They're going at this backwards,” Bert observed. “Us kids need to pick the ma and pa we'd like 'stead of them picking us. I can tell from here that he doesn't like boys.” Bert pointed toward a tall, thin man dressed in a black suit, a white shirt, and a string tie.

Ethan studied the man. “How do you know that?” he asked finally. “He looks all right to me.”

“He's standing too quiet. And he's not talking to nobody. He looks like he was here to pick up a load of furniture. A chair won't talk back to him, but a boy will. He won't like that.”

Ethan surveyed the crowd on the platform. It was true that most everyone was chatting with a neighbor or walking back and forth past the windows. They seemed excited and interested. Ethan looked back at the tall, unsmiling man standing alone.

“He doesn't look very happy, does he? Maybe he wants a child to cheer him up. Maybe living alone makes you look like that.”

“It'd take a carload of kids to cheer him up,” Bert emphasized. “I don't want to be one of 'em.”

“Pretend you could have anyone out there you wanted for your folks,” Ethan said. “Who would you pick?”

Bert looked carefully, then sighed. “They ain't out there. My ma had soft, curly hair around her face. Theirs is all pulled back tight. My pa would be dancin' a jig to make folks laugh. I don't see 'em.”

“You mean you're looking for your real folks?” Ethan stared at Bert. “You know they never lived in Iowa!”

Bert grinned sheepishly. “Naw, I ain't looking for 'em really. I'd just like new ones that looked like 'em. That way, see, I wouldn't have to get used to two different sets when my pa and ma do come back. 'Cause I'll find 'em when I'm sixteen and can go looking. Just wait and see.”

Ethan had the feeling that even Bert didn't believe that, but he knew his friend wanted to, so he didn't argue. Instead he broke into a huge smile. “Sure you will, Bert. Maybe I'll even be able to help you look.”

“Mr. Glover's coming back,” someone said. “Are we going now?”

Simon climbed up on the seat, where Ethan stood at the window. “She's here too,” he announced.

“Who's here, Simon?”

“That little bitty lady I didn't smack in the nose.”

Ethan opened his mouth to tell Simon not to be ridiculous, but he had no chance.

Mr. Glover was speaking. “We're ready, children. Small ones with Matron; the rest line up by size and follow me. The people want to see you.”

New shoes squeaked down the train aisle and descended the big metal steps. The crowd parted to make way for this unusual parade, and it seemed like hundreds of eyes followed as they headed toward the church a short distance away.