The Last Train Home - The Last Train Home Part 11
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The Last Train Home Part 11

When Ester and her husband finally hurried in the back door of the bakery sometime near noon, they found Lindsay and Ginny pressed tightly together in one of the bakery's booths, powdered sugar and icing on their faces, crumbs sprinkled liberally on their clothes, heads lolling sideways, and deeply asleep.

It had been a hectic, horrible morning, and one which both young women would remember with nothing but fondness.

Ginny discreetly lifted the front of her coat away from her body and ducked her head inside to sniff. Unable to come to a firm conclusion, she repeated the process as Lindsay watched with a bemused smile.

They were on the steps of The Society for the Betterment of Children Orphanage, having just been dropped off by Ester's husband, who went around back to make his delivery to the service entrance. The dilapidated state of the neighboring buildings and the homeless and immigrant population clearly showed this was a poor section of town. But the snow had been neatly swept from the stairs of the orphanage and there was a noticeable absence of newspapers, bottles, and other refuse on the sidewalk. Even the street in front of the large brownstone was relatively clear of trash and steaming piles of horse manure, which, in this high traffic area, was an excellent sign that the establishment was well cared for.

Ginny frowned.

"What's wrong? I thought for sure you'd be jumping for joy right now," Lindsay noted, ignoring the vulgar proposition made by a homeless man as he limped down the sidewalk behind them.

"I think I stink."

Lindsay laughed."What? Don't be silly. You finagled us a bath not three days ago. And I know you brush your teeth."

"Still..." Ginny moved a step closer to her companion and lowered her voice."I look a mess and have no job. They're never going to give me the children if they think I'm a bum."

Lindsay's smiled dissolved when she got a good look at Ginny's face and could tell that her friend was truly upset."You're not a bum."

"They won't know that," Ginny declared. She held her arms open in invitation."Just look at me."

Given permission, Lindsay indulged herself in a good long look and wryly said, "If you insist."She started with red, windblown hair that was shaggily trimmed and highlighted with streaks of blonde. When Lindsay's gaze dropped to vibrant sky-blue eyes framed with pale, thick lashes, pink cheeks and a youthful, slightly upturned nose, she couldn't hold back her own smile any longer.

Ginny's lips parted slightly and Lindsay saw a flash of healthy teeth and the beginnings of a nervous grin. Next came a slim, delicate neck whose faint scars from the fire didn't even register to Lindsay's eyes. The rest of Ginny was obscured by her woolen coat, but it wasn't hard for Lindsay to recall the womanly curves that lay beneath and the strong arms that gave such wonderfully hugs she found herself considering doing the most preposterous things just to earn one.

"Well?" Ginny swallowed nervously. She hadn't expected Lindsay to take her time like that, but, now that she had, Ginny was dying to know.

Lindsay shot her a grave look and shook her head slightly."I'm sorry."

"Wh... what?" Ginny squeaked.

"You're hideous."Lindsay held her hands in front of her eyes to shield them."I can't believe I didn't notice before."

Ginny's stomped one foot and narrowed her eyes."I am not!"

"Of course you're not."Lindsay grabbed Ginny's arm and began tugging her up the steps."So why'd you ask me such a stupid question?"

"Well... I mean, it wasn't-"

"Hey!"Lindsay abruptly stopped."Are you trying to tell me I stink?"Without the slightest trace of modesty the brunette began sniffing herself.

Blue eyes widened in alarm. "I never said that! You smell-"

"Ah hail smell. You said so yourself. I stink like those guys in the gutter."

"No."Ginny laid her hand over Lindsay's."Smelling is not stinking," she insisted."I was going to say you smell like you."She thought of the men that Lindsay was talking about and her stomach roiled."It's nothing like that."

"I smell like me? What does that mean?" Lindsay demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest and forcing herself not to laugh as Ginny tried desperately to reassure her. She was so easy."I smell like sweat or dirt or something? I brush my teeth too, you know. Most rail-riders just let 'em rot, but not me."

Ginny held up both hands in surrender."I know, you do. And the smell is not like dirt... I mean, sure you sweat and all, but it's not stinky." She rubbed her forehead with one hand."I don't know how to explain it.. it's all warm and just...."Please don't make me admit I like how you smell. That's just not something I can explain. Even to myself.

"I stink. Pheeeewwwwww!" Lindsay crowed.

"You don't!"

"I do."

"Lindsay, you do not!" Ginny's frustration leaked into her words."I'm the one who has to smell you. I would know."

"So you're saying I don't stink and that I should get over it?"

Ginny let out a relieved breath, a little surprised that Lindsay suddenly understood."Yes."Thank you."That's just what I'm saying."

"Ginny?"Lindsay grasped Ginny by the forearms and smiled triumphantly."You don't stink. Get over it."Before her moment of victory could be ruined, Lindsay took the final steps up to the orphanage door and rang the bell, leaving Ginny staring open-mouthed behind her.

The door opened and a man about the same height as Lindsay and Ginny, with thick blond hair and a Roman nose, answered the door. He was younger than both women had expected, probably not more than thirty, and was wearing dark trousers with suspenders and a crisp white shirt with no necktie."Come in, come in," he offered politely, stepping aside so they could pass."I just spoke with Hans out back. He said you were looking for some children?" He suddenly stopped and smiled a little sheepishly. "Where are my manners? I'm Christian Spence."He extended his hand.

Ginny took it and grasped it firmly."Hello, Mr. Spence. I'm Virginia Chisholm." Both women moved inside, their eyes scanning the interior. The house was inordinately noisy, and children's voices, some raised in laughter, others in argument, rang out. It reminded Ginny a little of the chicken slaughterhouse where she worked and the endless squawking of the birds. James, Lewis, Jane...are you here? She licked her lips nervously, the importance of the moment washing over her like a cold bath, leaving her shivering. You have to be.

The man's gray eyes turned to Lindsay, who smiled amiably and said, "And I'm Ginny's friend."Slyly she reached out and took Ginny's hand, twining their fingers together tightly and feeling the return squeeze, a thumb brushing gently over her cold knuckles. Her mind marveled at how easy that was and how wonderful it felt. Comfort freely given and lovingly acknowledged.

Mr. Spence cocked his head to the side, curious about the person before him, who at first appeared to be a pretty young man but upon closer examination was clearly a young woman. An oddly beautiful one at that. Not especially disconcerted by Lindsay's unwillingness to offer more about herself, he pointed at their coats and gently cleared his throat.

"No, thank you," Lindsay answered for the both of them. "We'll keep them if it's all the same to you."

"All right," the man allowed, recognizing instantly the wary attitude of someone who lived by their wits."I understand you're looking for someone. Hans couldn't tell me anything else."

"I am. Umm..." Ginny glanced at Lindsay. "I mean we are."

Lindsay's eyebrows jumped.

"A few weeks ago. There was fire on 84 Orchard Street in Manhattan. A tenement-"

"Yes, yes."Mr. Spence nodded and began walking down a short hallway off the foyer.

The young women followed anxiously.

"It was terrible," he said needlessly."We took in four children that night. Three siblings in fact. But I'm sorry; none with the last name Chisholm. One is a nine-year-old named Mary."He stopped in front of a door, behind which Ginny could hear the laughter of children playing.

"Yes, Mary Callahan." Ginny's voice grew animated."I'm so glad she got out. She lived on the second floor. But my brothers and sister's name isn't Chisholm," she told him quickly."That's my name. We had different fathers."

"I see."

Lindsay cocked her head towards the door."They're in here?"

Mr. Spence nodded again."Yes, but-"

Without waiting, Ginny took a deep breath, pushed open the door and stepped inside.

"Wait, Miss-"

Lindsay grabbed Mr. Spence's arm and held him firm."Let her go."

In the middle of the floor were two little boys playing with several brightly painted, wooden toy soldiers. When they saw the figure enter the room their eyes lit up."Ginny," they cried out together, jumping to their feet and rushing over to the shocked woman. They wrapped their arms around her legs and hugged her with all their might.

Lindsay let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. Yes. She brought up a hand and scrubbed her face, still not believing that it had actually happened. They'd found them. It was an honest to goodness, goddamned happy ending.

Her friend's back was to her, but when Lindsay opened her eyes she could see that Ginny's shoulders were shaking and that she was returning the hug. She let them stand that way for a moment or two before quietly entering the room and laying her hand on Ginny's arm. But when tear-filled eyes swung up to met hers, Lindsay knew that something was terribly wrong.

Lindsay's gaze dropped to the boys, whose dark hair and olive complexions looked nothing like Ginny's. They were small too, and now that she took the time to really pay attention, she figured they couldn't be more than four or five years old The redhead straightened her back and wiped her cheeks with a trembling hand."Leo and Nuncio." She did her best to smile."How are you?"

"Buono, Ginny. We good. Do you have treats?"Their faces were hopeful.

"Not today." She sniffed and her voice dropped to a whisper."I'm so happy you're all right. You didn't get hurt. That's wonderful."Ginny left any questions about their parents unasked. The fact that they were here at all was answer enough. Releasing them from her hug, she watched as the boys moved back to their spot on the floor and almost instantly became reabsorbed in their play, bashing their soldiers against one another and making all the required sound effects for a truly good war.

Her chest felt so tight she didn't think she could speak, but Ginny knew that Lindsay was patiently waiting for some sort of explanation."They're from the fourth floor of my building and don't speak much English. Sometimes when Mama and I would make cookies," she said thickly, "I would go out onto the stoop and share them with the kids."Her breathing hitched."And-" She stopped speaking and covered her face with her hands as she began to cry. Oh, Ginny."I'm so sorry," Lindsay whispered, pulling Ginny into a hug as Mr. Spence shifted uncomfortably in the doorway and did his best to avert curious eyes.

"That was stupid. Stupid!" Ginny shook her head wildly, scattering her hair across her forehead."I shouldn't have thought-"

"Shh..." Lindsay soothed, her lips near Ginny's ear."You were not stupid to hope. We'll keep looking. We won't stop. I promise."

With an apologetic look, Mr. Spence finally moved inside the room. He waved his hand, effectively dismissing the boys, then made the mistake of touching Ginny.

Lindsay instantly stiffened, but the man didn't appear to notice.

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Chisholm. I somehow doubted that these were the boys who you were looking for, but..." "It's all right," Ginny said, giving Lindsay a watery smile that conveyed her thanks, before pulling away, her cheeks tearstained.

Lindsay stared into Ginny's eyes and had to look away. Shining with tears, they were so beautiful and painful that her heart twisted in her chest.

A handkerchief appeared out of nowhere and Ginny gladly took it from Mr. Spence, who looked inordinately pleased that he could finally be of some help.

Ginny wiped her face."Don't apologize. It's my fault. I just wanted so badly to believe my brothers and sister were here. I-"

He lifted his hand to forestall her."Enough said. Please. I have a younger brother myself."

Ginny nodded and did her best to pull herself together, drawing strength from the quiet, reassuring presence at her side.Thank you, Lindsay.There would, undoubtedly, be more tears later, but for now she needed to get down to business, not fall apart."I'm looking for Lewis, James, and Jane Robson. The boys are 8-year-old fraternal twins. Jane is 3." Her voice cracked a little but she pressed on. "I'm all the family they have left. Are they here, Mr. Spence?"

The man's gaze softened and to his surprise, his own voice was a little rough when he spoke."No. But for their sakes," and yours, "I wish they were."

Feeling a little weak in the knees, Ginny stepped towards the door. "Thank you for your time." Her mind was already spinning out possibilities of where they would look next, what they would do.

He ran around in front of Ginny, blocking the door with his body and once again laying a hand on her arm. This time he noticed the look that Lindsay was giving him and he swallowed reflexively."I'm sorry they're not here, Miss Chisholm," he pushed the blazing brown eyes out of his mind so he could focus, "but that doesn't mean I can't help you."

The hackles on the back of Lindsay's neck relaxed and she was glad that for once she'd controlled her temper.

"Another agency took several children from that same fire. I don't know if they're your siblings but it's a place to start. If you two will wait in the parlor, I'll make some calls."He lifted his jaw proudly."We had a phone installed just last year." He held out a large hand to Ginny and wrapped his arm around hers when she took it. With a glance over his shoulder, he led Ginny into the next room with Lindsay following silently behind.

Ginny and Lindsay were barely on the sofa and Mr. Spence was out the door to make his phone call when a gaggle of girls walked passed their door. A step behind the rest of the crowd, a freckle-faced girl caught Ginny's eye."Mary?"

The girl's head snapped up and tears instantly filled her eyes. She stood at the door trembling, unwilling to move.

Ginny patted Lindsay's thigh and hurried into the hall, dropping to her knees in front of the small child. Lindsay couldn't hear what they were saying, but she heard the girl's muffled sobs and the soothing murmurs she knew were coming from her friend. In her mind's eye, she could easily picture Ginny on the steps of her building, passing out cookies. She wasn't surprised at all that the neighborhood children knew and loved her. Hell, I wouldn't have even needed the cookies, she admitted honestly.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed before Mr. Spence entered the parlor through a side door and joined Lindsay on the sofa. He watched idly as Ginny tried to gently pry herself away from the little girl."Mary will be all right," he assured Lindsay."We found an aunt who's coming in from Florida next week to claim her."

"Lucky girl."

Ginny hurried into the room, looking shell-shocked and feeling worse."Well? Were you able to find them?"She stopped in front of Mr. Spence but didn't bother to sit back down.

He exhaled slowly."Not exactly."

Lindsay frowned."What does that mean?"

"Indeed."He stared at the wall."What does that mean? It's hard to explain, but allow me to do my best."

Lindsay was quickly growing tired of what she considered to be drawn out bullshit. Why wouldn't the man just spit out what he knew? But Ginny was still hanging on his every word and she couldn't bring herself to disappoint her friend.

"The organization I contacted is called 'The Foundling Placement Society'," he continued."It's run by Jeremiah and Isabelle Ward. They're regulars in the society pages. Perhaps you've heard of them?"

Both women looked blankly at him.

He fiddled with one of his suspenders."Right. Anyway, their organization is much like this one. They are, in essence, an orphanage that runs on a combination of state and private funding. They've adopted the practice of placing children on what are commonly called orphan trains. Surely you've heard of those?" he inquired. "The Children's Aid Society, a far more reputable agency, has made them quite famous."

The blood drained from Ginny's face."Are you telling me my family has been shipped out West?"

"No, no, well, maybe."

"Speed up your story, Mr. Spence," Lindsay ground out.

"Of course. The Foundling Placement Society is under investigation by the state for allegedly placing children in households whose sole intention is to use the children as workers and nothing more."

"Slaves?" Lindsay speculated, knowing that while New York City was overflowing with unwanted child laborers, other parts of the country were desperate for workers.

He cringed."I hate the word slave," he mumbled."But in extreme instances it's not far from the truth. These children are in essence sold to those who need workers."

"Jane and Lewis and James are too young to work for some company or farm," Ginny insisted, knowing in her heart that wasn't true. Even the chicken stripping warehouse where she'd been employed had several workers under the age of ten. God.

"That's clearly true in your sister's case," Mr. Spence told her, not wanting to argue the case of her brothers. They all knew what went on in factories across the country. There was no need to hammer home the point. He pushed himself to his feet to join Ginny. "The Wards' organization continues to adopt out children of all ages, perhaps in order to gain continued support from private donations. Sadly, younger children are seen as more sympathetic while those aged 12 or so are looked at as-"

"Dregs," Lindsay supplied resentfully, knowing society's attitude all too well."Their bodies are nearly adult size, so they should work to earn their keep. Only no one would pay a child an adult's wages so they can't make a living. So then the children must be lazy, worthless-"

"Lindsay," Ginny prodded softly. There was still so much she didn't know about this person who had come to mean so much to her, so much she suspected would be hard to hear and harder for Lindsay to say. But just maybe, after all these years on her own, Lindsay needed to say it. And she'd be there to listen.

Lindsay blinked as if snapping out of a daze. "I'm sorry. Please... Go on, Mr. Spence.

Mr. Spence looked uncomfortable."That is not my personal belief, I assure you. And if you ladies would call me Christian I would consider it a personal favor."

Lindsay nodded. He was being far more gracious than most men would to a woman of her social status. "All right."