Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider (26 page)

“Edna, are you okay?” I asked my throat feeling back to normal.

“Darling, Gert, don’t you worry about me, let’s just get you better, dear.” She filled the basin with water and set about my bath.

“But you look so sad, is it me?” I prayed I was not the culprit.

“Oh heavens no!” Edna put her hand across her ample chest before continuing.

“My daughter seems to be in some trouble, I am afraid I just don’t know how to help her.”

“I wish I could help, Miss Edna, you have all shown me such kindness.” Edna’s sadness was overwhelming.

“Well perhaps you will forgive me if I am not able to tend you in the next few days, I am afraid I may be doing some traveling. My daughter, she has gone to New York City….” Edna began whimpering, but wiped her nose with a hanky and continued. “She has gotten herself with child and has gone in search of the father.” She confided in me.

“Oh dear, I see.” What a predicament, I thought her daughter was my age given the way she spoke of her.

Edna told me about Mary and Scotty and confessed that she didn’t understand why Pap was so against their love. She thought Scotty was a good boy; he just needed a little compassion given his situation.

“I completely understand Edna, it’s about time I get on my own two feet and start a life anyway I just don’t know where to begin.”

“Has Edmund been to see you yet?” Edna asked.

“No, Sarah suggested we wait a bit longer.”

“Edmund is your very good friend. I know you don’t remember anything, but perhaps he will be able to help. We have kept him away until you healed a bit more. He was one of the people that found you and it was quite distressing for him.”

“Oh, I see. I should think I would like to meet this Edmund, why yes, perhaps he can help to jog my memory!”

“Very well, after your rest today, we shall dress you properly and allow him to visit.”

I was smitten with the notion that I had a friend, someone out there who knew me from before! I simply couldn’t rest for the thought of him. I tossed and turned until I could take it no more. I glanced at my wounds; the scarring had already begun and I wondered who could love someone like me now?

A gentle knock came at my door several hours later, I was eager, and dressed in more than my undergarments so that I could accept a visitor. I wore a purple dress, with Spanish lace at the neckline and along the sleeves; the ladies said this color looked lovely with my brown eyes.

“Come in,” I bid Edmund to come in and prayed for a spark of my memory to come back.

“Hello, Gert.” Edmund took off his top hat and placed it on my bedside table before reaching out to hold my hands.

The lad before me did not look familiar at all. He was quite handsome however and looked to be about my age.

“I am terribly sorry, Edmund is it? But I am afraid I don’t remember you.” I desperately searched my mind for any flicker of a memory, but it was barren.

“I like to think I was your very best friend, however I don’t blame you in forgetting me, I do believe the amnesia is meant to serve a purpose, do you not? Perhaps it is meant to protect you; it was quite traumatic what you endured.”

“I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way, but why would I wish to forget my entire life? Can you help me put the pieces together, tell me who I was, what I did, what things I loved, my favorite color?”

“I don’t see how it would hurt; your favorite color was yellow, not a butter yellow, but a bright canary yellow. You had a beautiful straw bonnet with yellow gingham ribbon on it; I believe it was your favorite.” He told her his first in a series of lies, describing her life as an innocent youth, not wishing to shame her with recollections of all the men she serviced.

“Yellow, indeed. Please do go on, Edmund, did I have a favorite activity, any other friends perhaps?” I was greedy for any tidbits that could jog my memory.

“You adored reading, even read to me on occasion, your favorite books were
Little Women
and
Emma
, and you held the women in these novels with high regard.” The truth was she never read to Edmund and had most likely never heard of these novels. But the lying continued, he painted for her a cultured and devout life, telling her she was an educated woman who adored museums, volunteering and tending those less fortunate. He fed the flame telling her she focused on the needs of the hungry and destitute and barely had time for social functions and making friends of her own. He elaborated how this distressed her family. They admired her devotion but wanted to see her courting and married in a few years. And yes, she had many suitors, but you see we have, or had rather, a certain affinity for one another. He held her hand tighter when telling this particular lie, searching her eyes for a spark.

“You look tired; perhaps I should leave now and come back tomorrow. We have nothing but time, you must get well and strong in order to continue your work,” Edmund said with concern.

“Please do not go, Edmund, stay here with me, I have so many unanswered questions and I fear they take over my mind and make it difficult to breathe. I am so overcome.” I began weeping quietly, but Edmund held me to him, begging my forgiveness for telling me too much too soon.

“This is what my mother and aunt were afraid of, you’ve been through a trial, Gert, no one wants to recount it for you.”

Edmund held me for a moment longer, before tucking me neatly in bed to rest some more. I imagined my life as he described but felt no connection to it.

“Visit me tomorrow?” I asked.

“Certainly, I will; until then.” He kissed my hand and left me feeling mesmerized.

The following day couldn’t come soon enough, I was dressed and waiting for Edmund by mid-morning. Sarah bathed me and brushed my hair, parting it on the side and pulling it into a tight bun, loose tendrils curled at the sides. It looked rather nice, this hairstyle, I admired it and my new navy dress and felt confidant.

When Edmund came I assaulted him with a barrage of questions.

“One at a time!” He admonished me. “I will do my best, but today I wondered if you might be up for some fresh air?”

“Why yes indeed, that would be rather nice.” My ribs were feeling much better now and my legs, that threatened to develop bedsores, could use the exercise. I bent to put on my shoes and winced from the pain felt both in my ribcage and wounds. Edmund could read the pain in my eyes and bent on his knees, gathering and placing my shoes on my feet.

Sarah lent me her yellow parasol and together Edmund and I went out into the bright morning sun.

“You called me Eddie, it was your pet name for me, I suppose.” He was a good head taller than me, gently flowing hair, very handsome and gentle.

“Did you like it?” I teased.

“I did, in fact. And we walked along this pathway many times, sitting at the water’s edge, feeding the ducks our leftover ice cream cones.”

“What flavor did I get?”

“Oh you never strayed too far from chocolate with jimmies.”

We walked past the grocer’s and tavern, nothing looked familiar to me, but I caught many people glancing my way as we continued on.

A black man stopped his sweeping at the grocery store and tipped his cap to me when we passed.

“Did I know him, Edmund?”

“I don’t recall, but you were kind to everyone in your path, so it was likely you crossed him before.”

“Hmm, nothing looks familiar. It’s very distressing.”

“I can only imagine, here you are putting your faith and trust in me and you don’t even recall me.”

“Yes, that is true, but your family has shown me nothing but kindness in taking me in and caring for me. Who else could I trust if not you? But please, won’t you tell me about my own family?”

“I really think that should wait. I don’t want to set you back at all, remember you were put through quite a traumatic experience.”

“Did what happened to me also happen to them? Did I have siblings, are they hurt, did they die?”

My questions came out in waves, panic set in when I tried piecing together the puzzle of my life.

“You did not have siblings; it was actually just you and your mother. But that’s all I will say for now. Please, can we just walk and enjoy the fresh air?” He had no idea what he was going to tell her about her mother, or the fact she came to Binghamton an orphan, but one thing was certain, he would never reveal that she was a prostitute. She had the chance at a fresh start, how many people were given that opportunity? He would help her find things she enjoyed and together they would conquer the days and weeks ahead.

The sun was bright and I admired the window boxes full of flowers at each store along the village shops.

“Did I spend much time in these shops?” The stores held no memory and I suddenly wondered about my personal taste in clothing and hair trends, wondering if the shop owners would have records of my purchases.

“I wouldn’t know because we spent our time reading, walking, and helping those in need.”

“That sounds sort of boring doesn’t it? Seriously, is that all I did? What fun did I have?”

“If you permit me to give you a kiss, your imagination might give you some ideas.”

“Okay, then, that sounds like a decent idea.”

Edmund leaned in to kiss me; his lips were slightly parted, and very soft. They searched mine for a flicker of remembrance. I kissed him back, recalling the motions and flickering tongue now and then against his. We leaned against a tree and continued for a moment before he stopped.

“Why did you stop? I was rather enjoying that.”

“I want to take things slow, Gert, trust me please?”

“Kissing me was your idea.” I said feeling giddy from the kissing.

She was right, it was my idea, but I was taken aback my how much more I wanted to do and given her circumstance it was simply not going to happen.

“It feels perhaps too good for me, I fear I won’t be able to stop myself, I miss you so much.”

Instead, I grabbed Edmund’s hand and we continued our stroll through town. Several passersby took notice of us and stopped to say hello.

I may as well have been new to town, nothing and no one came back to me, and my amnesia was full blown. I feared I would never remember anything at all, but if that were the case and I were to live out my days here in Binghamton it wouldn’t be so bad. Edmund was devilishly handsome and kind; he showed me great care and took pride in his appearance. I got the feeling he was a well-respected member of society.

“Edmund, can we do some volunteering? Maybe if I jumped right back into my old ways I will remember something.”

“Absolutely we can. Let me call on the church and see what they are in need of this week. Perhaps we can stock their pantry shelves or put groceries together for families in need. I will look into it, but for now, let’s get back home, I fear you may need some rest after today’s jaunt.”

He was right, all the sights and sounds, not to mention exercise, had me tuckered out. I ate dinner at Sarah’s table, Edmund to my right and Samuel at the head of the table. It was a meal of mashed potatoes, green beans, and roasted beef with gravy. I perused Sarah’s bookshelves before finding a book I thought might look good and headed to bed for the night. It was amazing I still knew how to read.

I slept like a baby and woke refreshed and ready for a new day, a new beginning.

Edmund came for me at ten in the morning and together we went to the basement in our church which stored food for those in need, we lent a hand stocking shelves, and although everyone walked on egg shells around me, I knew it was because of my trauma and lack of memory so I didn’t think it unusual. Other volunteers asked after my health and I assured them with Edmund’s help I was feeling much better.

On our walk home, Edmund asked me if I enjoyed myself today.

The answer was yes, I did, being out and amongst people filled me with renewed joy.

“What else do you think you’d like to do?”

“Well, I have a crazy thought and I am not sure why, but I would like to create potions.”

“What in the world?”

“Well, I don’t know if they are called potions exactly, but I thoroughly enjoy the feel and smell of the lotions your mother and Edna have brought for me to use. I don’t know why, but I keep thinking about them. Does that sound ridiculous?”

“Not at all, but we could check the local stores and buy you some if you prefer?”

“No, I feel like I want to partake in the process of making them. Rose water for the bath, creams and lotions with varying scents, perhaps even night creams and lip balms.”

“It sounds like you have been giving this some thought. Are you telling me when you smell rose water you can conjure a rose? Or when you think of an orange you can conjure both the smell and color? If so that’s progress!”

“What else am I supposed to do while lying in bed for hours on end staring at butterflies?”

“Ha, so you like the butterfly shadow box?”

“I do, I favor the bright blue moth, she is lovely don’t you agree?”