Chapter XV
MAE’S CHEEKS BURNED as she stepped aside with Winona. “So we still don’t know where the bairns have gone.”
“No, but I still have the car number.” She looked around the depot. To her right, there was a brass-grilled window set into the perimeter of the building. Above it read, ‘Western Union Telegraph’ in gold lettering. “Maybe we can send a wire now.”
“It will be extra for the urgent dispatch.”
“Yes, I am aware. I will wait for the response.”
The operator collected the fee and tapped out the message, signaling for her to wait to the side.
She drew in a deep breath and looked at the clock.
The small hand took forever to click to the next minute.
Her toe tapped out a rhythm consistent with her heartbeat.
She had to force herself to breathe evenly.
Each shallow breath would put her one step closer to getting to Simon or solidify his permanent loss.
The rapid tapping of the operators’ keys created a discordant symphony which grated on Mae’s nerves.
She glanced over to Winona and saw her impatience and fear reflected back.
Every tick of the clock meant Simon was that much farther away.
People continued to mill about as the first ten minutes, then thirty, then fifty minutes passed.
Finally, the operator called to Mae, “Miss, the response has come through. It says, ‘Topeka, KS’ is the final destination for Car 0728.” Mae’s breath caught.
Her stunned expression caught the operator off-guard.
“Miss, are you alright?” His voice held a note of concern, but the brass grill prevented him from moving any closer.
Mae nodded imperceptibly as she turned from the operator.
Kansas. Simon would be going to Kansas. She turned back to Winona, who hovered just behind her.
“Kansas,” the woman blurted. “May as well be the moon.” She brought her hands to her face, and Mae could see her shoulders begin a slow rumble as tears trickled through the openings of her fingers.
Mae stood looking absently at her, unsure of how to comfort the woman.
Finally, she placed her hand awkwardly on the woman’s biceps and patted her mechanically.
“We must go after them,” she insisted quietly.
“We know where they are going. Now we must get to them as quickly as we can.” Mae's thoughts congealed into a plan of sorts. If it were indeed Topeka that the children were heading to, they could hopefully arrive before they were adopted out. They must hurry. Maybe there would be another train that left before tomorrow? If not, they could pack some things and arrive for the earliest departure in the morning. She must check with the ticket agent. Sensing that all these chaotic paths were narrowing into a predetermined line, she took hold of Winona’s wet hand and tugged her toward the stairwell. “Come, we must hurry.”
Winona’s weight felt like an anchor as Mae tried to pull her. The constraining length of their linked hands hampered her quick steps. After a few moments, Winona moved at a more conventional pace and followed Mae like a young child.
“If we can find them before they get placed, we might be able to get them back.” Mae tossed over her shoulder.
“But ye’ve already said that the judge’s ruling is final…” Winona paraphrased Mae's words back to her.
Mae closed her eyes and felt the guilt of her curtness and judgement leach through her body. “Yes, well,” she began, “we can certainly try.”
The line for the ticket agent had shortened, but there were still several people waiting for service.
As Mae slowed her pace at the end of the line, Winona huffed and continued on.
Walking straight up to the counter, Winona bypassed the line and began speaking directly to the ticket agent. “When’s the next train to Kansas?”
Her cheeks reddened as she followed Winona to the ticket counter. Her back burned with the indignant stares of the people they had skipped. The ticket agent wrinkled his nose at Winona’s blunt question and looked past her to the line of waiting people.
“There was a train that just left platform eight headed for Topeka via Chicago, I believe,” Mae intervened, trying to diffuse the situation with more specific information.
“Yes, Ma’am. Next one leaves tomorrow morning.” The man’s attention focused on something to his left, and he avoided making eye contact.
“How much for a ticket on tomorrow’s train to Topeka?” She gritted her teeth and waited.
“$32. Of course, the berth would be an additional $6.” Her eyebrows jumped up and her finger instinctively went into her mouth.
Chewing on her nail, she contemplated how much she could afford after paying for Henry's funeral expenses… Henry's funeral! They wouldn’t even be there to bury him! The sudden realization stopped her heart. Her mind pictured Henry being lowered into the ground with no one there to mourn him. No one there to place flowers. No one there to witness his official end. Her right hand reached out and gripped the counter. Quick images of Henry at his desk, Henry holding Simon, Henry smiling, Henry playing chess. Then, Henry slumped in his chair, Henry’s eyes rolled back.
Her body convulsed, and her breath came in a quick gasp.
As her shoulders slumped, the sound of the man’s tapping fingertip on the counter solidified her resolve. She needed to do this. Henry would never forgive her if she gave up on Simon.
“$38?” Her voice came out harsh with emotion. The agent picked a fuzz from his shirt and yawned, eliciting an angry, red wave to ripple up her neck and spread over her cheeks.
The man just gaped at her. “Yes, Ma’am,” he supplied patronizingly. “Of course, you don’t need the berth. You can stay in the main areas instead for $6 less if that’s too much…” His voice trailed off.
Mae felt a tug on her sleeve. She had forgotten that Winona was standing behind her. “I don’t have $38. Not even $32,” she breathed into Mae's ear. Mae went rigid.
“One…,” she croaked.
The man didn’t move. His eyes vacillated between Mae and Winona for a second, no doubt noting that Winona’s patched coat and kerchief signaled her inability to afford such a price.
“Do you have someone to accompany you, Ma’am?
” The question was uttered in a rote fashion as he returned to the paperwork on his desk.
She glanced around and saw women milling about the station, some with men accompanying them, some without. She returned her attention to the agent, “Just myself, thank you.”
He began the transaction.
His indifference irritated her. She knew it was irrational to assume he would know why she was buying her ticket or what it would cost her, but it didn’t stop the corners of her lips from turning down, and her nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply through her nose.
The stench of the depot tagged along with the cool air into her lungs, making the sour taste in her mouth more pronounced.
“Would you like a berth?” The repeated question grated on her nerves.
“Yes. Just one ticket with a berth.”
She glared at him and pressed her lips together into an even thinner line.
Her toes curled inside her shoes, and she felt every muscle along her spine stiffen.
She fished through her purse and removed the money she had placed in it to pay for Henry's funeral expenses.
She slid the bills across the counter before she could change her mind and waited.
A ticket slid across the counter. Mae snatched it up and shoved it into her purse.
Stalking away from the counter, she felt a shadow follow her.
Outside the entrance to Grand Central, she turned on her heel and found herself nose to nose with Winona.
She stepped back to put some distance between them.
“I can’t go with ye,” she lamented, looking down at her blown-out shoe as a kernel of shame bloomed in both her cheeks.
“It will be alright,” Mae mustered by way of comfort. “Hopefully I can get there before the children are placed.”
“Bring me Lily back to me,” her eyes shot up to Mae's face and her desperation was evident. “She’s all I have in the world.”
Mae nodded. “I will do my best.” Mae was swallowed up into a thick embrace. Her shoulders instantly froze and her neck went stiff. With her free hand, she patted the woman’s back like a duck pecking at the water for bread.
“I will save me pennies and help ye in any way I can. If ye need me, send a post. M’address is 457 West 46th Street.” She squeezed Mae's hand as she added, “Please, Mrs. Turner, bring me Lily home.”
Mae nodded again. “Mae,” she said quietly, “call me Mae. And I will do everything I can.” They separated and walked in different directions toward their respective homes.
She trudged along, putting one foot unsteadily in front of the other.
She thought about her decision to follow Simon.
The image of the graveyard flashed through her mind again.
Mae swallowed hard and hitched her purse strap up on her shoulder.
The leaden weight of the ticket pulled on her shoulder.
The twenty-minute route to Bloomingdale felt insurmountable. Topeka felt impossible.