Chapter 13 #2
Then Father Tillman got up from his room, his feet solid and steady as he went into the church. The crawlspace didn’t extend underneath the church, but if Hattie listened just on the other side of the foundation, she could hear him at his prayers.
Sister Matthews focused on the children.
She moved through the boys’ quarters each morning, rousing them out of bed and reminding them of what needed to be done for the day.
Then she went up the stairs, where Hattie surmised the girls slept.
Even from two stories below, Hattie could hear her calling out to them.
Once breakfast was over, the youngest children went into the church with Father Tillman. He taught them their letters, his voice patient and kind. The older children went outside to begin their chores for the day.
They switched off at some point in the morning, with the little ones running outside and the older children in the church. They discussed Bible lessons and practiced arithmetic. Sometimes Hattie fell asleep pressed against the foundation wall, trying to listen in.
The days were long and boring. Sometimes Hattie would pull out the slim gold chain she wore around her neck. Her mother had given it to her on her sixteenth birthday, her cool fingers clasping it around Hattie’s neck and whisking her hair out of the way.
Just a little something you can keep with you so you always know how much I love you.
Hattie hadn’t looked at the necklace much since she’d left home. Her relationship with her parents had always been so contentious, and there were times when it was easier to forget about all of those memories than to wallow in them.
A slim gold band slid up and down on the chain. Hattie stuck her finger through it, feeling the cold metal against her skin.
I’ll get you a better one someday, Oscar had promised. You deserve something as pretty as you.
Sweet, sweet Oscar. Hattie had never met anyone like him before. She’d certainly never met any boys who could tolerate her wild temper long enough to call her beautiful. Hattie missed him the most during those long days when she could do nothing but lie under the orphanage and listen.
There was so much activity at the orphanage that Hattie had no chance of leaving her hiding spot during the day. It was only when everyone had gone to bed that she could risk sneaking outside or up into the kitchen.
At first, Hattie only dared to go into the orphanage long enough to scrounge around for a bit of food. She snagged a few crusts of bread someone had left on the table before she darted back down into her lair.
Another night, she found a folded blanket on the top of the laundry basket. Feeling sure that someone would open a door or come down the stairs, she raced back to safety.
She soon realized that waiting all day to get a drink of water was getting old. Hattie’s next expedition to the kitchen had her looking for a jug of some sort. It wasn’t an easy task. There were numerous cupboards, since so many dishes were required for the orphanage.
Hattie finally closed her hand around a dented canteen. She’d never felt so excited about such a small thing! As she crept back to the crawlspace, the floor groaned loudly under her foot.
She froze, hardly daring to even take another breath.
Nobody came.
Hattie ran back down to the crawlspace, almost risking herself all over again when the door came down too fast. She caught it at the last moment and lowered it into place.
After that incident, she realized just how much the floorboards creaked during the day. At night, the building settled, groaning and sighing all around her. The residents were used to the sounds, and she was slowly adjusting to them as well.
The nights began to cool, and Hattie knew eventually she’d have to leave. Whatever warmth that radiated down from the orphanage wouldn’t be enough to keep her alive all winter long. Hattie began looking for different items, collecting a sweater, a sturdy canvas bag, and a box of matches.
Cutter wouldn’t look for her during the winter months.
He might inquire at local inns or check around the towns, but he’d never expect her to go taking off through the cold winter terrain of the mountains.
A cold wind filtered through the foundation as she packed her meager supplies in her bag. It would be time to go soon.
* * *
Hattie slipped out through the little door and ran into the woods. The ground was almost frozen, and she was grateful for the boots she’d taken from the kitchen.
Most of the leaves had turned and fallen, and Hattie cursed them as they crunched under her feet, threatening to finally give her away.
It was nearing dawn, but the thick clouds made it difficult to tell. As Hattie pumped frigid water from the well and into her canteen, a white fleck landed on her sleeve. She brought it close to her face to examine it. Snow.
The flake was joined by another and then another. It was coming down quickly, accumulating on the cold ground, sticking to the well, and slipping under the collar of her dress.
Hattie stepped back from the pump, and her heart froze as hard as the ground when she saw the two perfect boot prints she’d left behind, outlined in the fresh whiteness.
She hurried back into her hiding place, hopping from one side and then another so as not to leave an obvious path. As Hattie burrowed into her blanket, she knew for certain that it was time to go. Everyone would be able to see her comings and goings, and she’d soon be discovered.
Hattie knew it was morning when she heard the steady chopping of someone cutting firewood up on the hillside.
Tonight. Tonight, I’ll go and I’ll never look back.