Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider (8 page)

I saw my name and it read:

“Mary is an insecure yet proud and capable girl of ten years old. On account of prior malnutrition she weighs approximately fifty-five pounds and is shorter than most her age. She has red hair that is growing out nicely after being shaved on account of lice. While she is able to launder and press clothing, she can also care for small children. If given the opportunity she would be best placed in a home with Edmund, if not as his care giver, then as a sibling.”

I sifted through the paperwork until I found Edmund's name.

Under his description were the words “underdeveloped”, “hopeless”, and “unusual attachment issues”.

That night I said a heartfelt prayer. I prayed to God and to my mama and da, I prayed to Edmund’s family and anyone else who would listen. I promised to be good, I promised to always take care of Edmund if only a family would come for us. I recited this prayer over and over hundreds of times before drifting into a fitful slumber.

The next morning we were greeted and paraded in front of the good people of Binghamton, New York. It was a small city several hour’s train ride from New York City and I was glad to be finishing our trip, but sad that so many of us remained.

Edmund and I were paying attention to ourselves when an older woman wearing a plaid dress and matching bonnet approached us. She smelled of verbena and powder and appeared to be in her late forties. This woman had no children of her own and spent her time as a volunteer for the library and hospital. Her husband was the local pharmacist and they were well off but not at all snooty like some other people we encountered on our sojourn. She spoke directly to me, asking if I liked to read, I told her about my first primer and Eddie and I sang her our ABCs. Eddie clapped his little hands together afterwords and the nice lady was smitten. A gentleman wearing a crimson vest and high top hat approached our group and began speaking to me.

“Why hello there, young lady, what is your name?” he inquired.

“I am called Mary.” I replied sheepishly.

“Mary, I am Johnathon Pearsall, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Tell me Mary, what is it you enjoy doing?”

“I don’t know what you mean sir, I always work hard and help look after the children, especially Eddie here. I don’t suppose I have time to enjoy much.” I scratched my head at the question and repositioned my pink headband so it wouldn’t slide down my forehead.

“Well that is a shame.” He admitted, shaking his head.

“My wife and I are more than happy to open our home to a young girl like yourself, someone with whom Edna could share her love of reading and sewing with.” The couple smiled warmly at one another.

I was overjoyed, for after months and months on the train a family finally wanted me. They actually wanted me as their own, not as an indentured servant. But I had Edmund to consider and remembered he was ‘hopeless’ without me.

“I would love to learn to read harder words sir, and I could also try hard to find patience for sewing, but I am afraid I have this little boy here to think of. He can’t seem to get by without me; he was adopted once already and returned.” With that admission I took Eddie’s plump fingers in my own and turned away from the couple defeated. I walked across the platform and settling my legs Indian style with Eddie positioned in my lap.

Eddie and I played a game of patty cake while we waited to re-board the train; however the couple approached us again.

“Dear, my name is Edna, and you remind me of someone I once knew. I would very much like to have you in our home.” She gentled me with her soft warm hands and said she might have a solution.

Her sister and husband lived nearby and might be interested in the small boy. If we could delay the train she would travel in her own buggy to get them and bring them to meet him. Edna explained that she and her sister both wanted children but neither was able to conceive. If we lived close to one another perhaps Eddie and I could thrive apart secure in the knowledge we were only a few miles away.

The opportunity for a real family overwhelmed me. I nearly wet my under drawers and could hardly speak. I was excited and fearful all at once and didn’t know how to express my feelings. I crossed my fingers for good luck and tapped at my leg, waiting impatiently for the family to come back. Several hours and introductions later, Eddie and I were adopted. The paperwork was signed and we hugged Agnes hard, said a tearful goodbye and left with the Pearsall family. Agnes promised to write me directly over the course of the year to be sure everything was going swell. I promised to keep up with my letters so that I could write her back myself.

Chapter 5 Binghamton, New York 1860

“Welcome to your new home, Mary.” Edna held my hand and Edmund wasn’t far behind as she ushered us through a grand Victorian house on the outskirts of Binghamton; it boasted six bedrooms, four brick laid chimneys and two baths, each with a claw foot tub to soak in. The home had gingerbread latticework along the roof-line and white siding. The floors and banisters were made from chestnut wood and large lead diamond-shaped patterns adorned the windows. The porch wrapped itself in a hug around the home culminating in a large foyer with chestnut columns. The center foyer led to a full kitchen in the back of the house that smelled heavily of freshly baked bread. I noted the orderliness of the room; clean aprons were hung on several decorative hooks across from the stove, pots and pans were stacked by task and size as well as the white porcelain dinnerware that lay across open shelving. Across the hall lay the ornate dining room and adjacent to that was my favorite room of all, the library. The entire room had floor to ceiling whitewashed bookshelves full to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes. Several over-sized leather chairs sat stoically upon a deep burgundy colored oriental carpet with a center medallion. They faced the back yard overlooking a bountiful garden boasting lilacs, daisies, roses, and more. The inviting chairs held soft blankets and fluffy pillows which Eddie and I sank into. Soon a tea service appeared with finger sandwiches and cookies. We ate our fill, chatting cautiously all the while with our new families, taking joy in the fact we were now cousins.

I was hard pressed to believe someone, even sweet generous Edna, would see fit to let children in her parlor with so many knick knacks and breakables around, it just wasn’t practical. Edmund didn’t have the same worries I did; he picked up the miniatures one by one and played with them as if they were his very own. I was afraid of breaking anything and being sent away so I kept my hands to my sides at all times and only looked with my eyes as my mother had told me on our sojourns into city shops.

Edna was perceptive and welcoming. She asked me which miniature I liked the best and when I told her I liked the ceramic pony she allowed me to have it against my protests. I carried it painstakingly up to my room on the second level and secured it on my dresser alongside my crystal lamp. I would admire it each morning when I woke and stroke the salty mane on the horse each night before bed. Edmund sulked when I was given a miniature pony and because he made such a fuss Edna allowed him to choose from her collected treasures also. He chose the rabbit with the pink floppy ears and cotton tail which I was certain was Edna’s favorite. Edmund objected to having just one because this rabbit came as a set which she herself made at a ceramics class. Selfishly, he wanted the rabbit who wore a blue bonnet as well as the one with pink ears. He needed to learn some manners. But for now everyone seemed to appease him when he cried and sulked, myself included. I was fearful Edmund would become spoiled and forget his manners.

Because Eddie and I weren’t separated right away he went more willingly to his new family, Samuel and Sarah Whitmoore. Samuel is a banker and Sarah, like her sister, spent her free time helping the people of Binghamton, New York. Both had acquired money and enjoyed a menagerie of fine things. They had oriental rugs and furnishings in every room, paintings, curtains, as well as both formal and every day dinnerware. I had never heard of such a thing. I reminisced about the cracked plates mama and I used to sup on and the threadbare sheet we hung for privacy across our single window in the slums.

Settling in was easy for me, I had never been so doted on before. My hair was tended by a hair dresser who softened my unruly spikes into curls for a more feminine look. My clothes were made by Edna’s personal dressmaker. The seamstress came over to my new home with a basket of youthful materials in a variety of colors and patterns, she held out her measuring tape and asked me what colors I liked while she measured my outstretched arms and took notes. I was given dolls and clothes to dress them with. Edna gave me my very own afghan. It was a lovely purple cotton yarn with red, pink and white stripes throughout that she knit herself. She promised to teach me to knit and thought that making a scarf for the upcoming winter season would be the perfect beginner project.

I treasured the afghan and hugged Edna tightly. “Thank you, Edna!” I cried out.

“Mary would you like to call me Mom?” she asked pensively.

I was confused, I had a mom and Edna wasn’t her. My tattered picture was safely tucked away in my top dresser drawer and I was tempted to pull it out and share it with Edna.

Sensing my distress, “Why don’t you call me Edna for now okay, dear? Perhaps later we will settle on a special name for me.”

I nodded in agreement. “We are supposed to forget, but I can’t say as I want to. I’m sorry, ma’am.” My knuckles tightened around the blanket and a small hole appeared where I was digging my fingers in anxiety.

Instead of getting scolded, Edna pulled me in for a grandmotherly hug. “I would never expect you to forget your family, Mary. Every step you have traveled has led you to us and we couldn’t be happier,” Edna smiled as she held me to her bosom.

I stood up from Edna’s embrace and opened my dresser, sifting through underwear until my hands found the photograph. I held the shreds out for Edna who pieced it together without any trouble.

“Oh my,” Edna clutched her chest, “your mother is just beautiful! And you look just like her!”

“Really, Edna, do you think so?” I asked.

“I certainly do, it’s not just the hair, but look at the eyes, and your smile, why it’s exactly like hers. What was her name?”

“Her name was Maura Anne Salt,” I stuttered.

“Well, I wish to say a special thank you to her every night in my prayers. Will that be okay with you?” she asked.

I assured Edna that it was okay and thought about her name, Maura and Mary weren’t so different. Yet the name “Mary” still felt uneasy to me; it wasn’t my real name after all. But for Edna I would try to accept it and her.

“Do you like it here Mary, with us?”

“O, Edna, I do, I really do.” I said earnestly. “I can’t think of a better place for me, or Eddie.”

Sarah and Samuel were smitten with Eddie. He still clung to me and cried for me to kiss his boo boos but more often now he could be distracted with new trucks and wooden toys. The first few days he and I shared a bed at Edna’s but by day three Eddie hugged me goodbye and went home with his new family who only lived one block away. I saw him for our breakfast meals; the sisters donned their aprons and cooked up a storm, feeding us johnnycakes with real maple syrup and chocolate pieces shaved on top. Eddie was cheerful and energetic and Sarah proved to be very patient with him. His cough was better for the time being and I hoped it didn’t prove to be too much trouble in the future.

After several weeks of living with my new family I became accustomed to our routines and rules of which there were few. I accompanied Edna on her daily errands and spent time in the local library where she volunteered. She allowed me to read from the children’s section and I wished I could bring one or two books home to share with Edmund. But the library did not yet have a system in place to circulate books. Once Edna realized how well I could read she decided I was settled enough into my new life that I could begin attending the elementary school in the city. In preparation we bought a new notebook and canvas bag to carry it in, two pencils, lunch pail and several new pairs of shoes to match my dresses and ribbons for my hair. For my first day I was to wear a cream colored dress with smocking across the bodice and red ribbon at my waist. My stockings were cream and my shoes were patent leather. A matching red headband was made to hold my hair out of my eyes. I was nervous because I had missed an entire year of learning, but I was also excited to make friends and to wear my new outfit, although I didn’t think the light color of my dress was practical for a child to wear. Mama and I always wore darker colors that didn’t show our stains.

Edna assured me I would like Miss Kate and after making proper introductions my first day she left me in her care. There were six rows of six wooden desks and chairs, making for thirty six students in my classroom. I was assigned a seat in the second row on my first day and sat fidgeting with my fingers whilst the remainder of the children filed in to begin the day’s lessons.

The blackboard at school had rhyming words like cat, hat, mat, and rat written across it. But when a young man was called upon to read them he quietly refused. The young man was called to the teacher’s desk where she took out a ruler and smacked his knuckles. Miss Kate cringed with each smack she doled out. But when the young man with curly brown hair turned back around and walked towards his seat, I screamed.