Far Away Home (6 page)

Aislynn stood
behind Papa Nolan. She rested her chin on his head and wrapped her arms around
his neck, “Don’t worry, Papa.”

His head fell
and his chin landed on her forearm. A tear splashed against her flesh. She
rubbed her cheek on his thin hair and soothed, “I’ll find a way to take care of
myself.”

Aislynn
approached the first home on Madison Avenue displaying a sign advertising
employment. She rang the front bell. The door opened to a world of dark wood
lining the walls and twisting up a broad staircase. When she asked about the
position, the maid said, “Go to the back,” and slammed the door.

Aislynn trudged
to the back door, and the same maid opened it. She entered to a large green
kitchen. A counter ran around the room under huge cabinets hanging high on the
walls. Two Negro women chopping vegetables stopped their conversation and
looked up at Aislynn. The older one asked Aislynn if she had ever worked in a
kitchen before.

“I cook for my
family.”

“Dis here’s
different. You gots to know food. We gots some fine folks comin’ here to eat,
and we gots to serve fine food. Now, you knowed what a consumay is?”

Aislynn shook
her head.

“What ‘bout
galettes?”

Aislynn shook
her head again.

“Ain’t no sense
sendin’ you to the lady of da house. She ain’t gonna take you.” 

Aislynn moved
on. She thought she could find work as a governess but discovered a governess
needed to know more than history, literature and mathematics. They were
supposed to be masters of etiquette. Aislynn felt she had fine manners, but
several interviews revealed she lacked the knowledge wealthy young ladies
required. She could not succeed as an upstairs maid, because she did not know
the difference between a sham and a pillowcase. A downstairs maid needed to be
familiar with a wide array of glasses and various forms of silverware, information
Aislynn lacked.

As Aislynn
departed another disappointing interview, a small Negro woman pulled her aside
and said, “Da lady cross da way loss a girl yesterday. She throwed her out for
heavens only knows why. Run over and see if she take you on. Be jus’ cleanin’.”

Aislynn thanked
the woman for her kindness and approached the house. The four-story limestone
building had cast iron railings leading to the front door, but Aislynn scurried
to the back. While she waited for someone to answer her knock, she straightened
her hair and her coat. A man with an English accent led Aislynn through a long
narrow kitchen to the back parlor and ordered her to sit.

A frail,
long-faced woman entered the room. She wore a slim gray dress with a small
train. Aislynn rose and gave the woman a quick curtsy. After the woman took her
seat, Aislynn waited for instructions to sit. They did not come. Aislynn stood
looking down at the woman, answering questions about where she lived, why she
needed a job and references. References were a problem for Aislynn. She had a
nice note penned by her companion, but Mrs. Pearson was without connections and
unknown to Aislynn’s prospective employers.

“Well, I am
truly in need of cleaning help. We are entertaining this weekend, and I must
have this house immaculate. Now you understand it’s six days a week, and you
will have Sundays off. You will be given a bed in the attic with the other
girls and two meals a day. There is no pilfering of food. I will pay you seven
dollars a month and not a penny more.”

Aislynn beamed.
She folded her hands and brought them to her breast and thanked God and this
mousy little woman. In four days, she had to leave her apartment, and she had
no rent money to extend her stay even one more week. This job was a blessing.
She envisioned her parents watching over her as the parlor door opened, and a
portly, balding man entered the room.

“Herschel, I did
not hear you come in. Welcome home, dear.” The woman extended her hand to the
man who brushed past Aislynn.

“How are you
today, my pet?” the man asked with no real interest.

“I am well.” She
smiled weakly at the man. “This,” gesturing to Aislynn as though she were a
piece of furniture, “is our new girl. She’ll begin cleaning tomorrow. It’s such
a relief.” The woman sounded as though a weight had been lifted from her.

Aislynn assumed
Herschel was the woman’s husband. He turned toward Aislynn and examined her
from head to foot. His scrutiny made Aislynn feel uncomfortable. When his dark,
fluid little eyes stopped at her breasts and her hips, she stepped back toward
the door. Herschel looked down at the woman and in a syrupy voice said, “I’m
sure she’ll be a very interesting addition to our household.”

He nodded at
Aislynn as he left the room. Uneasy, Aislynn’s eyes followed him out the door,
and she listened for his steps to die away. When she turned back to her
employer, Aislynn discovered the woman standing directly in front of her.
Aislynn heard the slap hit her cheek before she fully felt it.

“Get out, you
slattern. Don’t you dare come near this house again.” 

Aislynn reeled
from the pain. In disbelief and fury she countered, “Are you insane?”

“Get out or I’ll
call the police!” the woman screeched.

Aislynn took her
anger and her humiliation and left through the front door. The city was
darkening. The buildings were shadowed, and the fabulous homes with their
unevenly lit windows seemed sinister and unbalanced. Soot and ash blackened the
barrier of snow remaining on the curb. Puddles of filthy water stained the
cobbles on the streets. As she walked alone, every sound made her start. She
hurried home, fearing that in a few days she might be living on these streets.

While sitting in
her mother’s rocker, she looked out at the cold night listening to Papa Nolan
snoring. He had decided she should not sleep in her apartment alone and had
taken to spending the night in her father’s bed. Soon, she had to leave the
apartment and had nowhere to go but consoled herself with the thought that at
least she would not have to listen to his snoring.

Aislynn looked
around the room. Since the day her mother died, nothing had changed. Her father
had not added one piece of furniture. Except for the addition of a small vase
of paper flowers Aislynn received for her fine performance at school, she had
not changed anything, either. It remained her mother’s home. She pulled her
shawl around her and wondered how her mother’s arms must have felt when they
hugged her. At times the Nolans and her father hugged her, but she imagined a
mother’s touch would be different. She pulled her legs up into the chair and
hugged herself as she rocked.
I’ve spent my life longing for my mother, and
now I’ll spend the rest of my life missing them both.
She looked up toward
heaven.
If you’re watching, I could use some help.

Aislynn’s eyes
searched the darkened room. Looking over its shadowed contents, she decided to
sell the furniture and thought she could make enough to pay the funeral bill.
At
least I’ll be starting off without a debt. Now if I only had somewhere to go
.
She rocked back against the wall and kept the chair suspended in the air.
Closing her eyes, she imagined she was flying, flying to some place far away,
some place she could have a home, a job. She lost her balance, and the chair
fell forward, landing loudly on the wooden floor. Her eyes flew open with the
jolt, and she caught the glimmer of a solution sitting on the table in the
corner of the room.

Chapter 6

As soon as the
men left for work, Aislynn ran up the stairs to old Mr. Rattawitz’s.

“I need some
help. I have some things I want to sell.” Aislynn needed a pawnbroker and after
years of peddling on Orchard Street, she knew Louis Rattawitz could direct her
to one she could trust.

“Vat are you
selling?”

“I have silver,
real sterling.” He looked at her quizzically. “It’s mine,” she established.
“Lady Falwell, my mother’s employer, gave it to her. It’s eight place settings
of sterling and a genuine silver tea service, tray and all.”

“So you vant to
sell? But your mother?” he shook his head.

“They’re the
only things I own that are worth anything. I’m nearly destitute. I need money
very badly.”

“Your father, he
loved you, but he vas not one to look to tomorrow. It vas not his fault, some
do, some don’t.”

“I know; he
lived day by day. But now I have to live.” She bit her lip and twisted her
hands. “Help me?”

“Of course, but
know you may never get these back.”

Aislynn looked
away from the old man and took a few deep breaths, calming her wavering
resolve. “I know.”

She wrapped the
silver in soft towels. Together, they carried it to Orchard Street, a
thoroughfare teeming with people, horses, pushcarts and noise. A hundred
languages mingled into one loud roar. Strange, tantalizing smells floated in
the air alongside wisps of gray smoke from stoves set up on steps and sidewalks
for cooking and warmth. The atmosphere buoyed her spirits and made the
impending separation more of a celebration.

They walked into
a narrow, dark building displaying the sign “Freilischer’s Pawn Shop.” Bells
rang as the door swung open. Behind the counter, a small, big-nosed man with
graying hair peered over tiny glasses with his tiny eyes. He rose and extended
his hand to Mr. Rattawitz.

“Louis, if this
is your new vife, I drop dead right here.”

“Al, if she vere
my vife, I’d drop dead.”

Mr. Rattawitz
introduced Aislynn to the pawnbroker and explained her situation.

“Och! Such
troubles for such a young girl.” He examined the goods and declared, “I could
not sell such things here. My customers don’t buy silver, but I know another
Jew, uptown, his name is Golden, vas Goldstein. I ask you, who is he trying to
fool? In any case, silver is selling at a good rate. You leave it to me, I get
you a good price.”

“I’m sorry to
rush you, Mr. Freilischer, but I have to be out of my apartment in three days.”

“Lou, you vatch
the store, and I vill make the trip uptown today.”

While Aislynn
cleaned away the remnants of dinner and Johnny sat reading at the kitchen
table, a soft knock came to the door. Johnny volunteered to answer it, but she
overrode his offer. Mr. Rattawitz stood in the hall clasping a wrinkled
envelope. She stepped out and closed the door behind her with a snap.

“You’re rich.
Six hundred dollars rich.”

Aislynn could
not contain a squeal of delight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are the
best neighbor in the whole world. Please thank Mr. Freilischer, or I’ll go and
thank him myself.”

“You’re a good
girl. I’m going to miss you.” The old man’s cloudy eyes were damp.

Aislynn threw
her arms around him and said, “I’ll miss you, too, but I won’t ever forget
you.”

As the old man
struggled up the stairs, she pulled up her skirt, stuffed the money in her
pantalets and returned to Johnny. He asked several general questions about her
visitor. Aislynn tried to be honest in her answers but the money, leaning
against her leg, stole her focus. Pleading fatigue, she managed to convince
Johnny to go home early.

Alone, she ran
into her bedroom and extracted the bulging parcel. Loving the feel of the
dollars in her hand, she counted them over and over. She knew she held enough
money to live in New York for a full year, maybe two if she were exceptionally
frugal.
By then, I might be able to find a job.
Aislynn placed the money
back in the envelope and slipped it under her mattress.
But what if I can’t?

With uncertainty
grating on her, Aislynn opened her dresser drawer and removed a box papered in
a flowered print. A small stack of letters from Tim rested inside. Reverently,
she opened each one and read them in chronological order.

The morning sun
gave Aislynn clarity and strength. She walked into the office of Ben Holladay
at 84 Broadway and caught the eye of a clerk seated at a cluttered desk. He was
a young man, in his twenties, she estimated, with greased dark hair and a
serious look. As Aislynn approached, he puckered his mouth, as if sucking
something sour.

When he failed
to greet her, she asked, “Can you help me?”

“Don’t know,” he
replied. “I’m very busy.”

“Maybe I should
speak to your employer?” she threatened, affecting an air of superiority.

The man huffed
and told her to take a seat. “I’m jus’ very busy.”

“So you said.
But I have business which I must take care of and if you can’t help me, I’ll
have to find someone who can.” 

She started to
rise, but he ordered, “Sit, sit.” 

He pushed some
papers aside and asked what she needed.

“I’m going west
and need to deposit some money. I want to carry letters of credit and be able
to withdraw my money in Chicago, Cheyenne and Ogden.”

“Where you
going?” his interest piqued.

“My final
destination is Ogden in the Utah Territory. I don’t want to carry cash for the
entire journey; I might lose it.”

“More likely
someone will take it from you. Who you travelin’ with?”

Aislynn thought
the question was terribly personal, but she answered it anyway. “I’m traveling
alone.”

The young man
let out a laugh. With sarcasm, he asked, “How you gonna get there alone?”

“Well,” Aislynn
hesitated. “I intend to take the train through to Cheyenne and the stage from
there.”

“And you intend
to travel by yourself?” his critical eyes raked over her.

Aislynn
straightened in her seat and looked at him hard, “Yes.”

He leaned back
in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Well, now, I know it ain’t
none of my business but I jus’ come back from a little trip west. I railroaded
through to Cheyenne and took one of our stages through the Black Hills, and I
am grateful to be sittin’ here to tell you it was the worst experience of my
life. Now I ain’t no sissy, but you ain’t never seen nothin’ like Cheyenne. You
know they got ten thousand railroad men sittin’ there waitin’ out the winter.
They got nothin’ to do but live wild. Why the newspaper has a daily column
named ‘Last Night’s Shootin’s.’ Them men are drinkin’, gamblin’ and … never you
mind what else. They are the most unruly bunch. They’re forever shootin’ guns
in the air, and my theory is what goes up must come down. The whole time I was
there I kept prayin’ ‘God don’t let them bullets come down on me.’ ”

Aislynn knew the
way west was difficult. Tim’s letters told of the rough rail ride followed by
long hours in an unfamiliar saddle. In school, she learned the search for an
easy route west began with the discovery of the continent. However, it was not
until the Civil War highlighted the growing need that the American imagination
set out to build a passage, an iron road stretching from sea to sea. After the
war, the progress of the transcontinental railroad progressed swiftly, but its
westward branch only stretched into the Dakota Territory, 436 miles from Tim.

Aislynn devised
a way to avoid the problem of being in such a dangerous environment. “I don’t
intend to stay in Cheyenne. I will board a stage and leave town immediately.” 

“A stage?” the
man leaned closer to her, “Well, now, I’d be glad to sell you passes to take
you clear ‘cross that godforsaken country, but let me tell you about those
coaches. First, they’ll be overloaded. Every one of the occupants will stink
more than any animal you’ve ever had contact with. Most will have lice and be
happy to share them with you. Some will be drunk. Why, I seen one man kill
another for jus’ talkin’ down the South. Everyone carries a gun by the way; you
better get you one, or you’ll be out of fashion.”

“I don’t need to
hear all of this.”

“I think you
do.” He paused and scrutinized her, “Why you goin’ west alone anyway?”

Annoyed at his
effrontery, Aislynn threw her nose in the air. She tried to ignore his prying,
but the young man stared her down.

Acquiescing,
Aislynn replied, “I’ve recently been orphaned, and my guardian is in Utah. I
have to get there. And why are you trying to scare me?”

“I ain’t trying
to scare you; I’m trying to save your life. You look like a nice girl, and nice
girls don’t travel on them stages by themselves. Why, the men I rode with were
hard drinkin, killer types. And they were better than the ones who prey on the
coaches from the outside. We were stopped by bandits twice. People think
Indians are a problem, but it’s them white outlaws who are the threat. I’d hate
to think what they’d do to you.”

“Perhaps I’ll
meet up with some other women on the stage, maybe a family.”

“Oh, that’d be
swell. First off, babies screamin’ and spittin’ up add a nice touch to the dust
and the wind pourin’ in the windows. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like the
lightning out there. The weather comes in the coaches, and this time of year
it’s a cold rain if it ain’t snow. Snow will stop a coach dead.”

The man paused
to take a breath. Aislynn hoped he would stop talking but he continued. “Then
you have to stay at a station. ‘Cept don’t get out at no station ‘less you have
to ‘cause it don’t matter if you’re a girl; someone will snatch up your seat,
and you’ll have to stay at the station ‘til another coach comes by. Those
stations ain’t nothin’ but sod over a sand floor. There’s no place to sleep and
even less place to wash. The food is miserable. I spent a gold dollar just for
a hot potato. The water smells, and it’s thick with dirt. There ain’t nothin
could get me to go back there. Why, they could fire me, but I’m not runnin’
anything out west for this company or anyone else again.”

Aislynn leaned
her elbows on the desk and sighed, “Well, how else can I get there?”

“I’d suggest a
train full of decent families.”

“But the train
only runs through Cheyenne.”

“I’m talkin’
about a wagon train. They’re better armed. They ain’t carrying the gold or
paper the outlaws want anyway. Indians don’t bother trains passin’ through.
Trains got their problems, but it’s safer for women and children.”

Aislynn looked
at him with disbelief, “A wagon, I’ve never driven a wagon, and I don’t know
anything about animals. I’ve lived on Worth Street my whole life.”

“Well, you might
be able to team up with someone. Trains will be leaving Cheyenne all spring. Be
strangers but prob’ly decent family folks. Can you wait ‘til next year? The
railroad might be through by then.”

A new fear rose,
I’ll be eighteen by then, and Tim won’t be legally obligated.
She shook
her head and declared, “No, I can’t wait.”

When the Nolans
returned home, they found the Denehy apartment nearly empty. Aislynn showed
them the thirty dollars she had earned with her furniture sale. She also announced
she had been offered a cleaning job, which she told herself was not a true lie.
The Nolans congratulated her and asked a few questions about her placement.
Johnny’s queries, however, seemed endless.

“Why are you
interrogating me? I’ve told you everything there is to tell.”

“I’m just
interested.” They were seated at the Nolan table, since her kitchen lacked
furniture. Johnny rested his chin on his hands and stared at her silently.

Aislynn fidgeted
in her seat. “It’s a fine house.”

Johnny nodded.

“They seem to be
well-bred people.”

He nodded again.

She fell back in
her chair and said, “Stop staring.”

He lifted his
head and leaned back, folding his arms over his chest, but his eyes stayed on
her.

“Fine!” she
shouted. “I’m going to Utah!”

His face remained
static, and he emitted no sound.

“Tim is my legal
guardian. He’ll have to take me in, and no one can object to it.”

When Johnny made
no response, she added, “There’s plenty of work there. Lots of opportunities.”
She paused, thinking he was never going to speak to her again. She concluded
with, “So I’m going.”

Determined not
to say another word, she waited, the silence thumping on her conscience. Johnny
relented, “How are you gettin’ there?”

“Train and
stage.”

“Where did you
get the money?”

Aislynn explained
how she had sold the silver.

“Do the Nolans
know?”

“No,” she
snapped, “And you’re not going to tell them. I have no home, no job. I have
nothing to keep me here.”

“I’m here.”

Aislynn’s
heartfelt his words. For a moment, she felt sorry. “I know,” she whispered,
“but I can’t get married just because I have no job, no…”

“You’d rather
get yourself killed than stay here and marry me?”

“You don’t
understand.” Her elbows fell on the table, and she surrounded her face with her
hands. “I don’t want to live in a tenement and have a baby every year. We’d be
stuck there forever.”

“We’d get out.”

“When? Two
years? Five years? Never?”

“We’d be
together.”

Sympathy pulled
at her heart, but she said, “It’s not what I want.”

Johnny reached
for her hand and held it in both of his, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know.” She
set her jaw and said, “I can’t stay.”

Johnny pulled
her around the table until she stood before him. He squeezed her hand so her
bones rubbed against each other. Looking down at their hands, he said harshly,
“I could make you stay.”