The Train

 by Anne Elder

“Come on, get up, brother,” Frances whispered urgently. “Don’t you remember tonight is the night we go detecting?”

“Right,” Carl replied as he flew out of bed just as the city clock started to bong.

Before it had finished its eleventh strike, both boys were out the window and down the tree that stood there to the ground. They ran through the city streets on the route Frances had planned beforehand. The way they went was always different, but the destination was always the same.

They winded through the streets for almost twenty minutes before they arrived where they were going.

“My legs are tired,” Carl looked questioningly at his brother. “Why didn’t we go a shorter way?”

“We’ve taken all the shorter ways already.”

Carl seemed satisfied with the answer for he asked, “What’s the plan now?”

“Tonight, we wait in the alley beside the Train,” Frances looked around. “I’ve heard from a reliable source that there should be a delivery here soon, so we want to stay hidden.”

‘The Train’ was their code word for one of the homes for orphaned children in the city. There were only two: the one the brother’s parents ran, called ‘The Bible House’, and this one, a run down, dilapidated old building which the boys were trying to put out of business. Frances firmly believed that illegal goings on were happening in that building and Carl believed anything his brother told him.

Frances’s ‘reliable source’ proved true, for before the clock reached the hour a woman approached the front door of the Train with a basket on her arm. She knelt down before the door and placed the basket down on the steps. Longingly she looked down into the basket. When a cry was heard from within it, the woman burst into tears and picked up a baby girl out of the basket. She held the child in her arms for what seemed like forever to the hidden boys. Then gently and lovingly the mother placed the babe back in the basket. After another moment, she slowly rose and walked away, leaving the basket on the step.

As soon as the woman was gone, Frances walked cautiously into the open toward the baby with Carl following close behind. Looking down at the baby now sleeping quietly, Frances knew that this was his chance.

“Perfect,” he whispered, “She will be perfect.”

Meanwhile Carl had knelt by the baby and touched her face, longing to hold her. He loved babies. Every time a new baby arrived at the Bible House, his mother would call him just so he would get a chance to hold the child. But sadly, the babies never stayed long, a month at most.

 At the Train it was a different story. Once a child went in, he was staying until he could earn his own way elsewhere. It was common knowledge that nobody adopted from the Train, but no one ever bothered to find out why except Frances. At least, that was his goal.

That was why this opportunity was perfect. He would get Carl to put a letter in the girl’s clothes. This letter, which he had written long ago, would hopefully give them a chance to figure out what was going on in this orphanage

“Carl, put this in her clothes somewhere,” Frances handed his brother the letter, “make it hidden, so it is not found right away.”

“Can I pick her up, please?”

“Why not? Just put the letter on her.”

Carl gently picked her up as he took the letter from Frances. The movement woke the child, but she did not cry out. She just looked up into Carl’s eyes quietly. By now the moon was out and Carl could see well enough to detect something written on the girl’s blanket.

“Andrea,” he read aloud.

“What?” Frances asked not really wanting to know, “is the letter hidden yet?”

“Her name,” Carl replied, “it’s Andrea.”

“What about the letter?”

“Right,” Carl quickly stuck the letter under the baby’s dress. “It will be uncomfortable for her.”

“It will save her if it finds the right person,” Frances answered.

“I’ll pray it does then.” Carl reluctantly set the girl down and decided, “we’ll call her Anni. She needs a code name too, you know.”

“Anni,” Frances tried the name out, “good, Mama will think we are talking about our nurse.”

“She’s not our nurse,” Carl contradicted, “she’s Annie.”

“Our nurse, plus all around house maid,” Frances insisted. “Come on, let’s go.”

He leaned over, knocked on the door of the Train, then ran into the alley. Carl kissed Anni on the cheek and then he too ran into the alley.

As soon as someone opened the door of the Train, the boys were off, running back home.

Opening the door of the orphanage groggily, Sarah wondered why she had been destined to live with her Aunt Catharine, who assigned her the job of answering the door whenever someone knocked. As Sarah peered into the night, she saw two figures running off.

“Wonder who that is,” she muttered as she turned back inside.

Suddenly Sarah heard a noise from the porch. She looked down and beheld a baby in a basket.

“Poor child,” Sarah whispered, picking the basket up.

Crooning softly, Sarah slowly went back inside thinking, this baby shall never feel Aunt Catharine’s anger if I can help it. I’ll write an ad for her in the newspaper and hopefully someone kind and caring will adopt her.

The following morning after her aunt left to take the older children to school, Sarah went to check on the baby in her room. She had managed thus far to keep the child’s arrival from Aunt Catharine, but her aunt, the master of the house, knew about everything and what she did not know, she figured out very quickly.

Lying quite calmly, the baby stared up at the ceiling. Sarah took her out of the basket and put her on the bed to change her clothes and diaper. When she took off the child’s blanket, Sarah noticed a single word embroidered into the fabric: Andrea. That must be her name, she pondered. It fits her, I think.

As Sarah took of Andrea’s dress, she saw something more interesting than a name. A letter, what would a baby be doing with a letter. After finishing dressing Andrea, Sarah let her play on the bed while she read the letter.

            To whom it may concern,

            We believe you are in imminent danger. Please contact us as follows: write a short, to the point reply, fold it many times, and set it on the porch after sundown on Thursday, November 1, two days hence. Wait up until you hear two short raps on the door. Then go out into the ally and wait for our appearance. Do not tell anyone of this letter. Burn it after reading.

            We appreciate your cooperation,

                        A friend

“Imminent danger,” Sarah read again, “Can this be true?”

She looked down at Andrea, playing happily on the bed. What did this mean? Should she do as it said?

“Well, I’ve got a couple days to decide,” Sarah smiled at the baby. “It must not be too imminent if this ‘friend’ gave me two days to reply.”

With that decided, she sat down to write the newspaper ad for Andrea.

 “We have got to find some way to visit the Train during the day.” Frances declared to his brother the morning after they had left the letter with baby Anni.

“That should be easy,” Carl replied. “Mother lets me go on a walk by myself sometimes to the Sherriff’s*** office. I could easily go visit the Sherriff*** and then go to the Train.”

“But do you know the way?”

“Well, you could tell me.”

“All right,” Frances looked at his brother, “but you have got to memorize my directions. I’ll give you the shortest one.”

 Frances then told Carl how to get to the Train. After Carl knew the directions by heart, he asked his mother if he could go visit the Sheriff.

Miss Maggie answered yes saying, “Be back in time for roll call.”

“Yes, mother,” yelled Carl, already out the door.

Upon arriving at the Sheriff’s office, Carl opened the door and greeted the Sheriff. “Hi Sheriff, I’m practicing my detective skills today.”

“You are, are you?” Sheriff Thatcher looked down at Carl. “And how are you doing that?”

“Well . . . I probably should not tell you. After all, it’s detective work. And I probably ought to get going on it if I’m going to get home on time.”

“Okay then, young man. Happy detecting!”

Before the words were completely out of Sherriff Thatcher’s mouth, Carl was already running to the Train, ready for his detecting.

“Come, children,” Ms. Catharine Lark called cheerily to the orphans, “We must not dawdle or we will be late for school.”

They had just left the orphanage on their daily half mile walk out of the city to their country school. Ms. Lark had started the school when she opened her orphanage. She had hired a teacher, who she said would “teach the orphans all they need to know to live on their own.”

Up ahead the school came into view, nestled cozily in a semicircle of trees. When they reached the door, Ms. Lark kindly ushered the children in and helped them take off their coats.

Calling out a cheerful, “Have a nice day,” Ms. Lark took one last look at her orphans, before she left, back to the orphanage to help Sarah with the younger ones.

Arriving at the Train just as Ms. Lark was leaving with the children, Carl followed them all the way to their school building. He observed as Ms. Lark led the children in the school; he observed as Ms. Lark left. Forgetting all about being home in time for roll call, Carl went up to the windows to see what was happening inside.

As he watched, all the children dutifully put their coats back on under the direction of a big man. That’s Mr. Whitlock, from the livery, Carl realized. I wonder what he’s doing here?

A little later, Mr. Whitlock opened the door of the school and all the children filed out behind him. As they walked away from town, Carl followed at a distance.

 After about five minutes of walking, a construction site came into view. Mr. Whitlock told the children what to do and then sat down on the grass to watch.

All the children meekly went to work, although anyone with eyes could tell they did not want to.

Watching it all, Carl concluded, This must be the illegal goings on connected with the Train.

Suddenly Carl remembered he was supposed to be back at the Bible House before roll call. He turned and started running home, even as he knew he was late.

Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling . . . ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling

The small bell was heard throughout the Bible House as all the orphans came running from their play. It was morning roll call, and no one wanted to miss it. Roll call was always the highlight of the day. It was when any announcements were made. Plus Mr. Thomas, the Bible House manager, always made it fun.

As Frances ran with them, he wondered what was keeping his brother. He should be back by now, Frances worried.

 When all the children were seated on the floor, Mr. Thomas boomed, “Good morning, children!”

Everyone giggled. Mr. Thomas always boomed when he spoke. At least they had never heard him speak in quietly.

“What are you laughing at?” Mr. Thomas looked suspiciously over the children. “Who told a joke?”

The children just laughed harder. They could not help it. Mr. Thomas was always so funny.

Suddenly Miss Maggie entered. Searching the floor for someone, she turned to her husband. “Where’s Carl?”

“Here I am,” gasped Carl, all out of breath.

Sarah knew she would have to decide soon. It was already Thursday afternoon, and Aunt Catharine was on her way to pick up the orphans from school. What to do about the letter? Should she write a reply and trust it was not a fake?

“I don’t know,” Sarah looked down at Andrea in the makeshift cradle in the closet. So far Aunt Catharine still did not know that Andrea was in the house.

“I will do it,” Sarah suddenly decided. “The worst that could happen is I die, and you are left to the mercy of Aunt Catharine. And Aunt Catharine is very kind to the children, just not me.”

Taking the original letter, which she had never burned, from under her pillow, Sarah read it over.

“‘A short, to the point reply’,” she read aloud. “This should be easy.”

“Carl,” Frances called softly, “I’m leaving now.”

Carl sat up in bed. “All right, good luck.”

Since Carl had been late for roll call the other day and had not given a reasonable explanation, he was not allowed to leave the Bible house property for over a week. The boys were not about to break the rules again. Besides Carl had gotten very valuable information. It was Frances’ turn to be the hero.

Upon arrival at the Train, Frances approached the door cautiously. There was a candle burning on the first floor suggesting that whoever received the letter was following the instructions.

Frances grabbed the folded paper on the porch and ran into the alley to read it.

“‘Dear friend,’” He read, “‘I have chosen to believe you for Andrea’s sake. I assume you know her, for in her clothes is where I found the letter. Waiting for you tonight, I shall hope that my trust in you is not mistaken. Sincerely, Sarah’”

Smiling confidently, Frances went to the door and knocked.

As soon as she heard the two knocks on the door, Sarah knew she was in trouble. She had hoped and hoped that the “friend” would never come. But here were the knocks, just as the letter said.

Aunt Catharine looked at her questioningly, “Well, aren’t you going to go outside?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah meekly replied.

How had everything gone so terribly wrong? Aunt Catharine had gotten hold of a newspaper with the ad for Andrea that Sarah had written. Sarah had stated in it to come to the orphanage if interested in adopting Andrea. To make it worse, Aunt Catharine had approached her about Andrea when Sarah was just finishing her reply to the letter. Of course, Aunt Catharine demanded to know what Sarah was writing, and no matter how hard she tried to convince her that she was writing to a personal friend, it did not work. So, Aunt Catharine not only knew about Andrea, she knew about the letter too. She had also confiscated Andrea and the letter, which Sarah now regretted not burning.

“Sarah,” Aunt Catharine called to Sarah as she opened the door, “do not tell your friend that I contacted the police. We would not want him to run off before the Sheriff arrives. We do not know what he means by the letter. It is better to be safe than sorry.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah repeated.

She walked slowly into the alley and leaned on a building. What could she do? She could tell the friend anyway despite what Aunt Catharine said. But suppose Aunt Catharine was right, and the friend was just trying to trick her.

“I don’t know,” Sarah slid to the ground dejectedly.

“What?” someone inquired softly.

“I don’t know what to do,” Sarah replied without thinking. “You see, my Aunt Catharine found out about this letter that I was supposed to burn and did not. It said I was in imminent danger and to meet them tonight. Aunt Catharine told me not to tell whoever wrote the letter that she knew about it because she thinks they are trying to do something illegal and . . .”

Suddenly Sarah looked up. “Oh,” she breathed, looking at Frances, “you are the friend.” With that Sarah stood and ran, she knew not where.

Staring at Sarah’s retreating form, Frances thought, I need to hide.

In less than a minute after he was safely hidden under the hollow porch of the building next to the Train, Frances heard footsteps approaching. From his hiding place, he saw two people go into the alley and look around. Then they climbed the steps of the Train and knocked.

A woman answered, but Frances could not tell what she said. The men and her had a short conversation before the men left.

As they walked by Frances, he suddenly recognized one of the men. Quickly he stood up and ran after the men calling, “Sheriff Thatcher, Sheriff Thatcher, the Train is conducting child labor.”

Afterward

 When Frances had explained everything to the Sheriff, he was taken home and told, “Stay put. We will take care of this.”

After that, the boys were not allowed of the Bible House property without adult supervision for a long time. They begged that it not be so, but Mr. Thomas and Miss Maggie would not be moved.

As for the Train, it was shut down after Sheriff Thatcher and his deputy saw how the children were made to work. Ms. Lark and Mr. Whitlock were taken into custody until a trial could happen.

            The children from the Train came to live at the Bible House to stay until they got adopted or they got a job. Miss Maggie hired Sarah as a full-time employee to help with all the little ones.           

As for Baby Anni, she was Carl’s constant companion and playmate, until Anni’s mother came knocking on the Bible House door. But that is a different story.