My Heart Remembers (2 page)

C
HAPTER
T
WO

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its and snatches from the past hours cluttered Maelle’s mind in a confusing mosaic. The frantic rush from the tenement; Da and Ma allowing her, Mattie, and Molly to sleep unattended on the sidewalk; the officer’s odd look when he stepped out of the manufactory.

“It’s na hungry that I am, sir. Please . . . where is me da?” Maelle heard the panic in her voice, but she couldn’t control it. Mattie stared, wide-eyed, at the officer.

Maelle was certain she saw pity in the man’s eyes. His gaze flitted to Mattie and Molly before returning to her. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“It might be best for us to talk alone—man to man. Can we do that?”

Her breath came in little spurts through her nose. She nodded and turned to Mattie. “Hold tight to Molly. I’ll be talkin’ to the officer over there.”

Mattie sat on the ground and cradled Molly. Maelle followed Officer Jorgens to the sidewalk, where he crouched down in front of her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“What’s your name, son?”

“My-elle.” It came out in a strangled gulp.

“Michael,” the man repeated. “I can’t know for certain, Michael, but I’m afraid your da might not have made it out of the tenement.”

The softly uttered words, so gentle, struck Maelle as if delivered with a sledge hammer. “You . . . you mean you think me da is . . . burnt up?”

The hand on her shoulder tightened. “Now, we don’t want to lose hope, son, but he didn’t come to work today. Nor did your mother.” He took a deep breath. “Did your folks ever miss work before?”

Maelle shook her head wildly. Never did Da miss work, and he always made sure Ma went, too. He expected Maelle to be dependable in looking after her brother and sister. She looked at Mattie and Molly cuddled together. They looked so small and alone.

Alone . . .

Tears pricked her eyes. No matter what Officer Jorgens said, there was no hope. Her da wouldn’t have left them on the sidewalk all night, unattended. He wouldn’t have missed work, either. He must be char. He and Ma, they were char, burnt up in the fire. She, Mattie, and Molly were alone.

“I . . . I must be goin’ back to me brother an’ sister. I promised me da I would—”

Officer Jorgens held her arm. “Wait, Michael. I need to know . . . do you have any relatives here in New York?”

Maelle blinked, holding back tears. “No, sir. Me da an’ ma was all we had. We have an uncle back in County Meath, but no one here.”

“Friends, then, who might be able to take care of you?”

Maelle’s chin began to quiver. She set her jaw. “No, sir. Me da an’ ma worked all the day. They had no time for makin’ friends.” Da’s last words had been to look out for the wee ones.

Maelle would do that. Squaring her shoulders, she declared, “But it ain’t needin’ anyone we are, sir. I’ll be takin’ care of Mattie an’ Molly meself.”

The officer’s head lowered for a moment as he heaved a sigh. “Now, that’s a brave lad, but it can’t be done.”

“It can.” Maelle stuck out her chin. “Me da trusted me to take care of me brother an’ sister. I won’t be lettin’ ’im down.”

“Of course you won’t.” Officer Jorgens squeezed Maelle’s shoulder. “But staying on your own in a big city isn’t a good idea. You’re just a boy—you need help.”

Maelle grimaced. She needed to tell him that she was not a boy, but there was a bigger argument to be won. “I need no help. It’s takin’ care of Mattie an’ Molly I been doin’ ever since we came, an’ even before, with me ma bein’ sick in the heart from her own ma’s passin’. So I cared for Mattie an’ Molly. An’ I’ll still do it. I’ll get a job at the manufact’ry, makin’ lanterns like me da, an’ I’ll work, an’—”

“And who’ll care for Mattie an’ Molly while you’re away at work?”

The question brought her up short. “Well . . . Mattie can look after Molly.”

“What about school?”

“School?” Maelle puckered her lips.

“Sure, school. You should go to school. Mattie should, too.” Officer Jorgens shook his head, his eyes sad. “It’s a good thing you want to do, Michael, to take care of your brother an’ sister, but . . .”

The lump in Maelle’s throat strangled her words, making them come out in a harsh whisper. “I promised me da.”

Officer Jorgens gave her shoulder a pat, then dropped his hand to his knee. “Did that promise mean you had to take care of them all by yourself? Don’t you think your da would understand if you asked someone to help you?”

Maelle considered the question. Back in Ireland, the villagers worked together, each one using his or her skill for the good of the community. Da hadn’t thought it weak to rely on the Carmichaels for bushels of corn or the Delaneys for fabric Ma sewed into shirts and aprons. And of course Da did the shoeing for everyone in Dunshaughlin.

Slowly, Maelle shook her head. “No. It’s fine to be lettin’ ’em help, me da would say.”

The officer broke into a smile. “And that’s what we’ll do— we’ll find someone to help. I know just who to ask.”

A small weight lifted from Maelle’s chest at the realization she would not have to carry this burden alone. “Thank ya, sir.”

“You’re welcome.” He rose and held out his hand. Maelle hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his. “Let’s go get some breakfast now. You’ll need a full belly to get you through the morning.”

Although the officer’s hand wasn’t as calloused as Da’s, the width and strength gave Maelle a small reminder of how it had felt to walk hand-in-hand with her strapping father. As they returned to Mattie and Molly, she closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself to pretend.

“So nothing is left of their belongings?”

The young woman who spoke sounded dismayed. Officer Jorgens had hired a carriage to cart himself and the children to a large building far from the tenement Maelle had shared with her parents. As the horse had clopped along, carrying her farther and farther from their familiar neighborhood, her panic had risen higher and higher. Officer Jorgens had assured her the people at this big red-brick building would help her, but it didn’t sound as though this woman wanted to help.

Officer Jorgens replied, “No, I told you, their tenement burned last night. If there’s anything that wasn’t burnt up, it will be ruined by smoke an’ water. All they have is that little sack.”

The woman’s dark eyes looked to the sack. “Do you have clothes in there?”

Maelle shook her head. She’d peeked in the sack earlier, hoping for a clean nappy for Molly, who must have a terrible rash by now. “No, mum. It has only our ties to home.”

The woman’s thick brows came down. “What?”

Maelle slipped the sack behind her back. “Our Bible, a picture o’ me family, an’ some letters me ma wrote to me da when they was young. Ma called ’em our ties to home.”

The woman’s expression cleared. “Well, it’s nice, I’m sure, that they were saved, but some clothing . . . There are so many needs here. . . .” She pursed her lips.

Officer Jorgens reached into his pocket and removed a coin purse. Snapping it open, he dug his fingers around in the little purse and withdrew a few coins. “Here.” He thrust the coins at the woman. “Buy them something to wear. They can’t be standing around in nightshirts the rest of the day.”

His abrupt tone caused the woman to shrink back for a moment, her hands fluttering in front of her chest. “Oh no, Officer, I wasn’t asking for money. Miss Agnes handles all of our donations . . .” Her cheeks turned a bright pink. “Of course I’ll find something for the children to wear.”

Spinning away from the officer, she reached toward Maelle. “Give me the baby now, and I’ll see that she gets cleaned and changed.”

Maelle looked at Officer Jorgens. At his nod she allowed the woman to bustle away with Molly.

As the first lady left, a second one approached—this one older, wearing a flowing black dress with a crisp white collar. Her hair, streaked brown and gray, was swept away from her face into a neat bun like Ma wore back in Ireland. The lady’s whole face smiled, and at once Maelle sensed she could trust her.

The lady held her hands out to Officer Jorgens, who took both of them. “I was told some children orphaned by last night’s fire were being delivered. Thank you for thinking of us.” It seemed this lady didn’t mind that Maelle and Mattie had brought no clothes.

Officer Jorgens turned his smile on the children. “I knew I’d be leavin’ ’em in good hands with you, Miss Agnes.” Touching Maelle’s shoulder, he added, “This is Michael Gallagher and his brother, Mattie. Their baby sister, Molly, was already taken by one of the keepers. She was . . . wet.”

Miss Agnes laughed softly. “A clean diaper will do the baby much good, I am sure.” She clasped her hands beneath her chin. “What handsome children—such pretty red hair . . .” She stroked Mattie’s dirty head with her work-worn hand. He leaned against Maelle, his brown eyes fearful.

Officer Jorgens chuckled. “These two don’t have nothin’ on red compared to that baby sister of theirs. Her hair is as red as the paint on a fire wagon.”

The woman shot the officer a sharp look. “You don’t say?” She seemed to think deeply, her lips sucked in. Then she gave herself a little shake and fixed her gaze on Maelle. “And you have had a rough night, haven’t you, Michael?”

The kindness in the woman’s tone, as well as the genuine concern in her eyes, made Maelle wish she could throw herself against those voluminous black folds of fabric and cry the hurt away. But before she could move or say anything, the woman turned back to Officer Jorgens. They spoke softly, and then Officer Jorgens turned to Maelle and gave her shoulder a pat.

“I’ve got to get back to my beat, Michael, but I’m leaving you in good hands. Miss Agnes will take care of you and your brother and sister. You be good for her, will you?” He gave one more smile, the flash of his teeth reminding her of Da’s last smile, then he turned and strode out of the building. Maelle watched him go, a weight building in her chest.

“Now, then . . .” Miss Agnes’s voice captured Maelle’s attention. “We need to find you two something to wear and get you settled.”

Maelle found her voice. “Can’t I be seein’ me sister?”

Miss Agnes’s eyes twinkled. “Well, now, Michael, here at the Good Shepherd Asylum we have three sections. The babies go to the nursery, the girls go to their floor, and the boys to theirs. Since your sister is a baby, she goes to the nursery, but you’re a fine big boy. You won’t be able to stay there.”

Panic filled Maelle’s breast. “But can’t she stay with me?” She started to explain that she wasn’t Michael but Maelle, a girl like Molly, so they could be kept together. But Miss Agnes spoke.

“Now, didn’t I just tell you the babies, boys, and girls are separate?”

Maelle considered the woman’s kind yet firm reply. If what Miss Agnes said was right, then Molly would be in one place, Mattie in another, and Maelle in yet another. None of them would be together. Babies and girls were kept apart, so she couldn’t be with Molly even if she explained she was a girl. But if she went on being Michael, she could at least stay with Mattie. She would let the lady think she was Michael.

“Yes, but . . .” Maelle struggled for a way to still see Molly. “Me da told me to be keepin’ watch over her.”

“And a good boy you are to obey your da,” Miss Agnes said in a warm tone. “He would be proud of you. But you must trust me when I say Molly will be well cared for, and you may visit her every evening. How will that be?”

Maelle preferred to see her sister now, but she would not shame her father’s memory by arguing with an adult. She said dully, “Fine that will be, mum. Thank you.”

“Good.” Putting her hands on the backs of their heads, Miss Agnes herded Maelle and Mattie down a long hallway. “Now let’s go get changed, shall we?”

Changed? Maelle’s heart began to pound. Her secret might be revealed far too soon.

“Michael! Michael Gallagher!”

Maelle groaned at Miss Agnes’s stern call. She released Jimmy’s shirt front with a shove, sending the boy onto his backside in the dirt. Bending over him with her clenched fist under his nose, she hissed, “Leave me brother alone or ya’ll know what ta expect from now on.”

Just as she straightened, Miss Agnes took hold of her ear and marched her to the edge of the play yard. The woman shook a finger in Maelle’s face. “This fighting must stop. This is the third time this week you’ve been caught fighting. What am I to do with you?”

In the three weeks since Officer Jorgens had deposited her at the orphans’ home, Maelle had been involved in more fights than she could count. And she’d won nearly all of them. Her da hadn’t taken much with fighting, but Maelle felt she had little choice. She stuck out her lower lip, which she could tell was beginning to swell from the clop Jimmy had delivered, and said, “I’ll na be lettin’ them torment me brother.” She waved her hand toward the cluster of boys gathered near the fence, offering sympathy to Jimmy. “They pick on Mattie, callin’ ’im
mama’s boy
an’
sissy
. He ain’t none o’ that—he’s just a little boy who still misses his ma.” Maelle’s voice rose with passion.

Mattie raced to her side, tucking himself beneath her sheltering arm. He peered upward at Miss Agnes, his expression pleading. “Don’t be mad, mum. Sorry we are.”

As always, Mattie’s big brown eyes under his mop of reddish curls did the trick. Miss Agnes’s countenance softened, the frown lines giving way to a gentle smile. “I know you are, dear boy, but words must be followed with action to be truly sincere.” She gave Mattie’s hair a stroke before putting her hands on her hips and adding, “Which means I can no longer accept your apology unless I see a change in behavior. No more fighting, for either of you. Do you hear me?”

“D’ ya hear me, lass?”
Da’s voice rang in Maelle’s memory. Automatically, she nodded. “Yes. I hear ya.”

“Good.” Miss Agnes crossed her arms. “Now, since you have misbehaved in the play yard, you’ve given up your privilege of free time today. Instead, you’ll go to the kitchen and ask to wash tables.”