Chapter XIII
MAE AND MRS. Kerr raced into Grand Central, dodging other travelers and parting families, and were besieged with the intense smell of body odor even in this open and chilly space.
Mae took a deep breath through her mouth and scanned the sprawling layout of Grand Central.
People milled about, moving up and down the staircases, around the ticket window, and through the long passageways and archways.
She couldn’t see any of the trains, only a large, enclosed waiting area.
Hundreds of people passed through the archways leading to different parts of the station.
More were sitting and patiently reading newspapers or knitting.
The light from outdoors trickled down to the station’s center, illuminating the many immigrants and citizens of various colors and ethnicities.
A cacophony of words surrounded Mae in all sorts of languages.
She continued to run her eyes over the visible areas.
No children. No white nuns. No Father Cary.
“Where do ye think they be?” Mrs. Kerr’s question was drowned out by the bustle of the station.
“We need help. Someone must know where they’d go,” she replied, not pulling her gaze from the sizable crowds swarming through the expanse.
Mae moved toward the ticket counter and then paused.
The line wrapped around the seating area in a snakelike fashion.
She watched as one customer mimed his request when English was not an available option.
The ticket agent looked frustrated and began yelling louder in English, as if the man would suddenly understand his instructions.
She looked down the line at the other ticket agents and saw similar situations playing out.
She turned back to Mrs. Kerr. “There must be someone to ask…” She glanced toward the stairwell and saw a placard reading ‘To Trains.’ “Downstairs!”
As Mae turned back to look over her shoulder, she saw that one of the ticket agents had locked his gaze on her, then lean toward his fellow ticket agent, whispering something.
Then he slipped away, all the while keeping his eyes on Mae and Winona.
Sweat formed on her lip as she refocused on the task at hand.
She sprinted to the stairwell and took the steps down two at a time, grabbing the railing to steady herself in her heels.
Mrs. Kerr lurched on behind her, trying to keep pace.
Mae sped along the endless array of train platforms. The first long walkway was empty.
The second was busy with people. Most were standing and waiting.
Should she enter the platform to check if the children were at the other end?
What if they weren’t here, and she missed them because of that delay?
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Winona searching the platform as well.
“Go to the next platform! I’ll check here! ”
Mrs. Kerr nodded and moved to the next walkway.
Mae turned back to the endless number of passengers and threaded her way through.
Men in business suits, soldiers in uniform, and families huddled together formed blockages that she had to dodge around in order to reach the middle of the platform.
She strained to check past the hordes. The children had to be on one of the platforms. As she hurried through, some female travelers cast judgmental looks her way.
The men watched with amusement as she scurried past. Upon reaching the midpoint, her eyes darted about the remaining passengers.
There were no large groups of children. She turned back, hoping that this dead end wouldn’t cost her precious time.
The next platform was again empty, so she scuttled past it and scanned the next one.
Billows of coal smoke wafted in the churning air currents.
The smoke coated the inside of her nose and her tongue, creating an acrid taste in her mouth that only worsened as she panted with exertion.
She saw Mrs. Kerr a third of the way down the platform, and they locked eyes.
Mae saw her head shake back and forth with an apprehensive expression.
Mae continued on to the next lane. It was mostly empty, barring the few straggling family members there to see the train off.
Their calls of farewell echoed off the rafters of the depot and clanged around in her mind.
She made a move to the next platform, but in her periphery, she saw a stark white outfit approaching from further down the walkway.
Her limbs froze. She turned her head to see a nun in the requisite habit walking solemnly toward her with her head down.
Mae turned sharply to her left. Upon hearing Mae’s hurried footsteps, the nun looked up.
Mae recognized her as the young nun who had helped her several days ago at the front desk of the Foundling.
The recognition was mutual. The young nun smiled until she took in Mae’s frazzled state and paused as Mae closed the distance. “Excuse me,” Mae eked out between gasps. “Are you here with the children from the Foundling?”
The young nun’s gaze bounced from Mae to the train, then over Mae’s shoulder, finally coming to rest on Mae’s face. “I’m sorry. I’m not able to provide that information.” The girl bit her lip and her hands joined in front of her habit, the sleeves cloaking the movement of her hands.
“Please, Sister. I must know which car the children are on,” Mae pressed. Mae’s pleading eyes locked onto the young woman’s face.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. Mr. Foster said—” She swallowed hard and averted her eyes from Mae’s face, looking down at the ground. “He said we are not to speak to anyone about the children—”
“Please!” Mae interrupted. “My son is on that train. I need to know which one!” Mae tried to keep the hysteria from her voice, but it rose anyway.
The young nun took a step back, her eyes going wide. “I… I…” she stammered.
“Please… Which train?” Mae’s hands shook as she held them toward the young woman.
The girl’s eyes darted back to the train. She slowly turned, and a small, trembling finger pointed at the train car. “That one.” Mae tried to follow the girl’s directions. She dashed past the shaken nun and began scanning the interior of the cars through the windows.
Her heart pounded a solid tempo, and her chest tightened as she passed the first two cars with no sign of Simon. Then she saw it. A white-robed woman leaning over a small child in the window seat. She kept running alongside the car and began yelling out, “Simon! Simon!”
The porters and conductors turned their attention toward her. Her calls resounded in the emptying space. The passengers boarding raised their eyebrows. She didn’t care. She had to find him. She must.
A hand pounded on the window from the inside, and she heard a muffled cry. The hand fiddled with the latch and finally worked it free. As the window dropped, Mae heard Simon's cry. “Mama! I’m here, Mama!” His arm strained out the window and stretched toward her.
“Simon!” Mae realized that she was in the middle alongside the car now.
The whistle for the train blew, and she heard the rumble as the wheels began to turn.
She hurled herself toward the front of the train car, trying to catch onto the railing to pull herself up.
The train chugged steadily forward and picked up speed as she began to close the distance.
She reached again for the train’s railing, and her fingertips grazed the smooth glass of the first window.
Her hands skidded along the windows. She saw Simon's arm flailing out the window and reached for him.
Their fingers touched for a brief second before he was again ripped beyond her reach.
She heard his pleas for rescue, but she was too late.
She doubled over, and the blanket of defeat wrapped around her, tightening.
The watch’s tick echoed in her ears. She reached down with both hands and squeezed it in a vise-like grip, as if she could stop the sound.
Her lungs warred with her heart while the wheezing parried with great sobs of anguish.
The ragged breaths began to die away, now fully replaced by the howls of her heart.
Mrs. Kerr appeared at her side as the train car’s middle section passed by.
Simon's arm grew smaller and smaller as the train picked up steam.
Mae heard Mrs. Kerr gasp and felt the forceful grip of the woman grab on her shoulder as she followed her pointing finger thrust out in front of her.
“There! Me Lily!” Mae felt her push off toward the train as she saw a little blonde-haired girl press her hands to the window.
It was the same little girl who had stood wide-eyed with her rag doll at the Foundling House just yesterday as she watched Mae being thrust out by the crowd of nuns.
The woman’s movement forward was stilted by the realization that there was nothing to be done. Mrs. Kerr couldn’t transport herself onto the moving train any more than Mae could.
Mae stood in shock as the only living member of her family left her.
A small metal placard fastened to the back of the car, which read “Car 0728,” flashed by her before it disappeared from view.
The sweat that had beaded along her spine and face just moments ago now began to wick and sent a chill all over her body.