The Last Train Home - The Last Train Home Part 7
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The Last Train Home Part 7

Lindsay blinked."I-"

"Just do it or I'll let them commit you!" the older woman ground out from between clenched teeth. Then she straightened and her mouth shaped a smug smile."Now that we have an understanding..." Haughtily, she adjusted her apron and turned her back on Lindsay."Follow me." Without another word, she began marching down the aisle.

She's helping me? Can I trust her? A mental groan. Do I really have a choice? Then the rail-rider made her first truly good decision and did exactly what Nurse Goletz told her. Lindsay snatched up the stolen clothing from the floor, took a few paces and dropped the shirt when she drew even with Bertha's bunk. A virulent curse escaped her lips, which is what everyone would have expected. And when she bent to retrieve the shirt, she scooped up Bertha's hideous, purple, floral print dress along with it, seriously hoping Nurse Goletz didn't expect it to come close to her bare skin.

"Bye, bye, sweet thang," Bertha crowed as Lindsay disappeared down the aisle."You come back and visit Bertha, you hear?"

Lindsay was shoved into a supply closet and before she could protest, Nurse Goletz slammed the door shut and held up a single, authoritative finger. "Uh huh. Not a single word, String Bean. I meant what I said, I'll let them commit you."

"I'm not going to the asylum and anyone who tries to put me there will truly regret it."

The nurse looked into brown eyes that had gone nearly black with fear and anger. Lindsay's pounding pulse was visible against the pale skin of her throat and for a split second the heavy-set woman was sure she could actually smell danger. In her heart, she believed that String Bean, when pushed, could be a very dangerous person."I don't doubt you for a second. That's why I'm helping you."The nurse cracked a small smile, hoping to diffuse the tension in the small room."As much as I believe the doctor is a pompous ass, he truly believes he's helping the patients here. I'd prefer not to see him killed..." A beat."At least not on my shift."

Lindsay couldn't help it. A tiny grin appeared and her tightly coiled body relaxed enough for her to let out a shaky breath.

"It'll be okay."Nurse Goletz jutted her chin towards the dress that was tangled with the stolen clothes and still clutched in String Bean's hands."Put that on."

Lindsay nodded and held up the shirt.

"No, the dress."The nurse reached into her apron and pulled out a small compact."And you'll need to wear some of this too."

Lindsay's wide eyes darted back and forth between the enormous, tacky, lavender dress and the compact of rouge."The hell I will," she roared.

The breeze blew a lock of Lindsay's hair into her mouth and she straightened from her place along the ferry's railing. Ginny's coat was thinner than hers and she fumbled with the top button, scarcely able to believe she'd made it. As Nurse Goletz had predicted, however, telling the ferry guards that she was a 'special' friend of Warden Simmons was enough to get her passage on the ferry back to Queens without question. Apparently, the warden had a taste for young prostitutes, and a veritable parade of them came and went on the island.

Lindsay winced. The ribs they'd had to cut in order to remove her spleen were still incredibly tender, as was the still-healing incision. But now that she was safe, and out in the cold, fresh air, she felt as if she could breathe. A wave of relief then lethargy swept over her, and she longed to find a nice, lonely boxcar somewhere, curl up, and fall fast asleep. But, her mind wearily reminded her, now isn't the time for that.

As the ferry chugged closer to shore, Lindsay relentlessly scanned the docks. The boat was a half hour late, but surely Ginny would have waited. When realization finally dawned on Lindsay, its power was enough to send her sliding down the ferry wall, to the floor. There wasn't a single soul waiting on the docks. Not one. Maybe she found the kids right off.

Yeah. Lindsay sighed. That must be it. Her expression hardened a little and she turned unseeing eyes back towards the murky river. Not that I can blame her for not coming on any account. She doesn't really know me. And who the hell is she to waste my time? Now that this little adventure is over, I can get on with my own life and give up on playing the Good Samaritan. I have far better things to do. Pockets to pick. Places to go. Things to see. But she couldn't make herself believe the words and she felt her heart sink."I can't believe I did all this for nothing." She chuckled bitterly and rose to her feet."How stupid am I?"

"You say something to me, ma'am?" one of the ferry workers asked, sidling up to her. His skin was the color of dark chocolate and his eyes glinted with genuine curiosity as he waited politely for her answer."You look cold. We have blankets inside. Would you like one?" he asked eagerly.

He couldn't, Lindsay figured, be more than thirteen, though he was tall and well built. "Is this your first day?" she inquired kindly. Either he was too naive to know that Lindsay was supposed to be made up as a prostitute or too well-mannered to treat her badly because of it.

"Yes, ma'am."He smiled brightly, already thinking ahead to getting paid and bringing home food bought with his very own money. Suddenly, he looked a little worried. "Is there something wrong?"

"No."Lindsay smiled gently, melancholy stealing over her."You're doing great. And I already have everything I need." Which is nothing at all.

The boy shrugged then pushed himself away from the rail, off to untie the dock ropes.

She disembarked in silence as the twenty or so men and woman scattered across the docks, all seemingly with someplace better to be. She told herself to just leave, that now she was being a fool. But her heart wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to the only friend she'd ever had. She tucked her hands into her pockets and walked a short way down each of the streets that dead-ended at the docks, half of her expecting to see Ginny, the other half knowing she wouldn't.

Lindsay made her way back to the river and stopped alongside the boat. Her eyes fluttered shut and she cocked her head and listened, longing to hear the lonely whistle of a train and be well away from the noisy, crowded, stinking city.

With several quick strides she was back on the gangway, calling out to the boy who had spoken to her earlier.

The young man was untying the ropes, preparing the boat for the journey back to the island.

"Hey!"

His head popped up from his task and he moved to the railing, sliding a little on the deck's icy surface.

"Ma'am?"

"I think I got on the wrong ferry. This isn't Queens, is it?"

The boy's forehead creased and he took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. "No, ma'am. This is Manhattan."

"Is there another-?"

"Aren't you even going to say goodbye before leaving?"

Lindsay whirled around at the sound of Ginny's soft, pain-tinged voice. The redhead's clothes were wrinkled and she was shivering a little. Dark circles ringed tired, pale eyes and her hair was disheveled from the wind. But there she was. Just as she promised she would be. Lindsay searched her mind for something to say but the words wouldn't come.

To her profound relief, Ginny didn't let the awkward silence between them grow. She simply pulled Lindsay into a full body hug and whispered into her ear, "I'm so glad you're here. I was worried sick you'd do something crazy to get discharged early."

Lindsay melted into the embrace, happy beyond reason that at least one of them had the good sense to have faith in the other. She would, she swore to herself, do better next time. The younger woman's heart was hammering and Lindsay could feel it through their woolen coats. She pressed her wind-burned cheek against Ginny's and hugged her tighter.

After a long moment, Ginny extended her arms and looked at her friend. Her eyes lit on her neck and she gasped. Anger then confusion flickered in blue eyes for just a second, before the storm cleared. Her mouth opened and closed several times without a sound. An "Oh, my God," finally burst free."That is the largest hickey I have ever seen!"

Ginny shook her head as if to dispel the image that she knew would be forever burned into her brain."What on earth were you doing while I was gone?"She didn't give Lindsay a chance to explain as her thoughts tumbled directly from her brain and out of her mouth."Is that makeup? Lots of makeup?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust."You look like a total...Well, like a strumpet!"

A dark eyebrow arched."Bertha would be so pleased."

"Huh?"

Lindsay grinned, perversely pleased with Ginny's honest assessment and especially the earlier blasphemy. She's right, she laughed to herself. She's not a very good Catholic girl. Until that moment, String Bean hadn't realized exactly how much she missed Ginny and how damn glad she was to see her.

Then Ginny noticed the back of the colored collar beneath Lindsay's coat and without preamble she unbuttoned it and plucked at the horrendous, enormous, low cut dress. Her gaze traveled down to her own gray, shapeless dress that she firmly believed had been made by blind prisoners with two left handstand no thumbs. "I'm gone for one day and you become not only a strumpet but one with vile taste in clothing?" she asked incredulously, glancing up at Lindsay with shocked eyes.

Lindsay's grin turned sheepish and she offered weakly, "I've been busy?"

"You'll explain later."It wasn't a question. Ginny exhaled explosively as she wrapped an arm around one of Lindsay's and led her away from the river."See what happens when I leave you alone for a second?"

Lindsay snorted and gently ruffled her friend's hair."I have a feeling that New York City has more to worry about with us together than it ever did with us apart."Russet-brown eyes glinted in the morning sun."Let's go get your family back, Ginny."

Ginny's throat closed and she mindlessly pulled Lindsay to her again, renewing the embrace she hadn't really wanted to end in the first place. Nothing need be said that couldn't be expressed in that simple, heartfelt gesture, and when slender, strong arms wrapped themselves tightly around Ginny, they felt so good it hurt.

Some days were longer than others, and some moments necessarily sweeter. And for the first time in her short and sometimes brutal life, Lindsay Killian took a moment to savor the sweetness.

Now that she'd had a taste, she wasn't sure she could ever go back.

Chapter Five.

Four days later.

It was twilight, that ethereal time when the sky was more purple than blue or black or gray, and New York City's streetlights began bathing the city in a subdued, golden glow.

Fog collected around the glass sconces as they warmed, and lit torches or lanterns appeared on each wagon that rolled along Queen's 36th Avenue. They were still close enough to the docks to smell the water of the East River and hear the blare of horns as boats approached shore.

Lindsay looked over her shoulder for the umpteenth time, watching as Ginny plodded sullenly through the thick, wet snow, a small sack, containing the men's clothing she had refused to wear and two thin blankets, slung over her shoulder. Lindsay sighed but remained silent, unable to think of anything to say. In truth, she felt lousy herself. It had been another day of dead ends, endless searching, and abject failure.

Ginny was beginning to lose faith and what little optimism Lindsay had had on her friend's behalf had all but evaporated along with their ideas of where to continue looking.

It was as though the Robson children had vanished from the face of the earth. The young women had tried Ginny's neighbors, local hospitals, churches, the fire brigade and police, and several state offices, all to no avail. At one of the firemen's suggestion, they were now down to visiting homeless shelters and orphanages one by one. And they'd already been to a half dozen of those. A few were so cramped and filthy that tears had welled in Ginny's eyes at the sight. She was torn between praying that her siblings weren't living in such depressing squalor and praying that they were.

Lindsay and Ginny had left the island of Manhattan earlier in the day, after a last minute stop at a Catholic church not far from Ginny's burnt-out tenement. The old priest had never laid eyes on Ginny before, and Lindsay got an even better understanding of what Ginny had meant when she said she wasn't a very good Catholic. Apparently, actually attending mass wasn't a requirement.

Lindsay squirmed in the high-ceilinged sanctuary, feeling the weight of the statues' stares upon her and hearing their mocking whispers telling her that she didn't belong. Her mind flashed to her father's funeral, the low chanted prayers, the whine of an out of tune organ, and the smell of incense. She thought she might be sick.

The priest had generously offered them a place to spend the night, but, much to Lindsay's astonishment, Ginny had taken one look at Lindsay's pale face and refused the offer, explaining instead that they needed to leave the island so they could start their searching across the river. Actually getting across proved more of challenge than Lindsay had anticipated. It had taken three attempts on three different ferries, with Ginny getting caught every single time but managing to talk her way out of being arrested, before they both successfully secured free passage.

On more than one occasion, Ginny eyed Lindsay's trousers enviously, thinking that those covered, lean legs had to be warmer than hers. As she'd reminded Lindsay, however, she needed to appear respectable, or at least as close as she could manage, when she went looking for the children. Dressing as a man would only complicate things.

The bottom of Ginny's dress was soaking wet and her cheeks were flushed pink from the chill in the air. Large snowflakes continued to drift to the ground, piling up quickly and collecting haphazardly in soft red hair. She stared at her feet as she walked, only glancing up when she needed to step aside for some passerby. Her throat was nearly back to normal, and, if she didn't overuse her voice, she could almost forget that it had ever been burned. Her hands, however, were another story. They alternated between aching, itching, and going totally numb in the frosty January air. She idly wished for a pair of gloves but settled for tucking her hands under her armpits as she walked.

Lindsay couldn't take it anymore. Funny, she thought, I used to go days without a single word and now I'm racking my brains for something... anything to say to her. She slowed her long steps until Ginny drew even with her."How are you doing?"

Ginny had grown so accustomed to the quiet that her head snapped sideways in surprise at Lindsay's words."I'm sorry. What?"

"How are you doing?" Lindsay repeated, her worry taking the form of a tiny wrinkle on the bridge of her nose.

"Oh."I'm hungry, cold, tired, and scared to death for my family."I'm fine. You?"

...Are someone who knows better."I'm fine, too."She looked hard at Ginny's face, for the first time noticing how much weight the redhead had shed in the past couple of weeks."Ready for something to eat?"

"God yes," Ginny blurted out, then she blushed."I mean...."

Lindsay laughed."I know what you mean."She let her nose guide them three doors down to a bakery/delicatessen."This way."

Ginny all but pressed her face against the glass and drooled."Mmm... I dunno, Lindsay," she mumbled doubtfully, her stomach growling despite her words. Displayed in neat rows were sliced meats and cheeses, along with loaves of crusty white and black breads braided into integrate designs."It looks expensive."

"We have to eat," Lindsay reminded her gently. "And the prices are exactly what you'll find all over the city. No more, I promise."While changing out of Bertha's dress, Lindsay had found a forgotten $5.00 tucked deeply into the pocket of Ginny's coat. It was the younger woman's last wages from her job as a feather ripper. But much to Lindsay's disdain, Ginny was doling out the cash as frugally as a miser.

Lindsay clasped Ginny's shoulder with one hand and deftly removed the cloth sack with her other."My turn."She followed Ginny's line of sight through the frosted window and licked her lips."We don't have to use your money. I know you want to save that until you find your sister and brothers. But the nearest soup kitchen is at least four miles and by the time we get there it'll all be gone. I can-"

Unaccountably, Ginny's temper flared."Steal someone else's wages?"

Both heads turned and flashing eyes met. Lindsay stiffened in reaction but couldn't disagree, knowing in her heart that, though she had simply planned on offering to shovel the sidewalk in front of the bakery, she was more than capable of stealing the money.

It was Ginny who looked away first."I'm sorry." She rubbed her temples."I'm so tired and hungry I'm not thinking straight."She sighed and her voice dropped to a whisper."Forgive me, please?"

Lindsay quickly nodded mutely, her tongue tied in knots in the wake of the heartfelt plea. She wrapped her arm around Ginny's shoulder and the younger woman ignored it, moving in for a hug instead.

Nothing felt as good as this and Ginny was drawn to it as helplessly as a moth to a flame. "They couldn't have just disappeared," she whispered in anguish, her lips near Lindsay's ear."Where are they, Lindsay?"

The cheek pressed tightly to hers felt cold and wet, and Lindsay's heart clenched as Ginny spoke."I...I don't know. But we won't give up," she promised quietly, closing her eyes against the sensation of their warm bodies pressed tightly together. We haven't touched since that day at the docks, her mind whispered. Why does this feel so damn good?

"Mmm... You're warm," Ginny muttered absently, smiling when she felt Lindsay's cheek grow hotter with her words. She pulled away, offering Lindsay a weak smile."I'm used to spending all day on my feet, but I feel like we've walked a hundred miles in the last few days."

"My sore legs couldn't agree more," Lindsay said self-consciously, very aware of how her cheek tingled from Ginny's touch. Uncomfortable, she took a step away from her friend and slid off the cap she'd "found" the day before. She slapped it against her thigh to remove the snow, then gently wiped the accumulated snowflakes from the top of Ginny's head with slightly shaking fingers.

The unexpected intimacy of the gesture caused Ginny to flush again and she looked away, feelings of confusion mingling with a wistful sense of longing.

Lindsay sighed, assuming Ginny was still upset with her."You don't have to keep apologizing for the truth."The dark-haired woman squared her shoulders. She already knows you're a no-good thief. Don't hold back now. It'll just come up again later. "Ginny, I'm a pickpocket when I need to be, and sometimes just when I'm too lazy to be anything else," she informed her in a startling moment of self-awareness and honesty. She steeled herself against Ginny's reaction."I'm a bloke buzzer, mind you."

Ginny blinked stupidly, causing Lindsay to clarify.

"I don't steal from women."

"Ah." She nodded thoughtfully, not sure if that revelation was merely informational or somehow meant to make her feel better about the situation."I see."Ginny moved a step, shifting out of the way of an oncoming trio of men. When the men were out of earshot she spoke again."I do need to apologize, Lindsay. For some reason when I'm around you my foot spends more time in my mouth than on the ground."A small grin twitched her lips before she took on a more serious expression."I don't have any right at all to judge you. We all do what we need to survive. I need to grow up and accept that. And you're the least lazy person I've ever met."

"Ginny-"

"Please," Ginny bit her lower lip, "just don't steal for me. I'm not sanctimonious enough to pretend I don't want you to do anything in your power to help me find my family. But not just for me, Lindsay. Not if there's any other choice at all."

"Ginny, I can't pro-"

"No, you can promise."She reached out and wrapped fingers covered with tattered bandages around Lindsay's."The question is, will you?"

"All right," Lindsay heard herself say, as though someone else entirely was in control of her mouth. Shit! I wasn't going to do that!

Ginny smiled a genuine smile, one that showed off rarely seen dimples and made her eyes light up."C'mon. Let's go inside and buy something hot and filling. If I eat, I won't be so such an evil hag." She smiled ruefully. "And I know I have been. Besides, I'm freezing and if we eat slowly I might just thaw out before we have to come back out into the cold."

Lindsay grinned affectionately and opened the door. She had already learned it rarely paid to argue with Virginia Chisholm. As the door was pushed open, the clanging of a small bell heralded their entrance and the yeasty scent of fresh-baked bread and spicy meat wafted out onto the street. Each woman groaned with undisguised pleasure. Apologies, admissions, and promises were filed away for safe keeping as they bolted through the door.

Ginny sat at a small table just inside the bakery door, drinking a cup of steaming black coffee. Between them, they'd consumed a foot-long roast beef sandwich, an enormous kosher pickle that made Lindsay's face scrunch up in an expression Ginny decided was nothing short of adorable, and two large bowls of hearty vegetable noodle soup.

She was pleasantly stuffed, and Ginny closed her eyes tiredly, deciding not to think about tomorrow until it came. They still had to deal with tonight. When had the days grown so long and so cold? Long before this, was the answer. Ever since her mother married Arthur even, and his constant battle with the bottle and ridiculous get-rich-quick schemes led to her already struggling family's gradual financial ruin.

Ginny loved her mother and had long ago reconciled herself to her mother's choice of Arthur, a good-natured dreamer with a heart of gold and a head of wood. She even loved Arthur, who was a kind stepfather whose life was ruled more by scotch whiskey and dreams of wealth than by what was best for his family. What she couldn't get past was that her parents had taken Alice and Helen's life along with their own.

"What are you thinking," Lindsay asked curiously, noting the look of quiet speculation and anger on Ginny's face.

For a split second Ginny was tempted to say nothing. But she was too tired to hold it inside."I'm thinking about how angry I am with my parents for letting the fire..." She swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat."For letting the fire claim Alice and Helen."Her eyes lifted and met Lindsay's and in that instant she could see that her friend ached for her as though the pain was her own. She reached out for Lindsay's hand, squeezing it to show her thanks when words seemed inadequate.

"Why, Lindsay?" she continued as her anger bubbling to the surface."Why didn't Alice come with me? She was always stronger, smarter, faster. She could have made it! Why didn't Mama send them out of the building when she had the chance?"

"Oh, Ginny." Lindsay shook her head sadly, wondering what exactly it was in people that forever compelled them to try and make sense out of the senseless. She got up from her seat across from Ginny and sat down alongside her."I'm sure she tried to get out. She was your big sister, right? She wouldn't have left you all alone to deal with all this if she'd had any other choice."I wouldn't have.

But Ginny's rational mind wasn't ready to accept that yet."If she had, she'd be alive now!"