The House on Malcolm Street (3 page)

Today you hear?
my mind raged on.
Where were you in November when John was killed? Where were you in the winter when the baby and I became so sick? You brought John through the war only to come home and die the way he did! And you brought little Johnny James through a difficult childbirth only to die such a few short months later! You left Ellie and me alone, not knowing how to go on! And now – now you hear?

My own depth of anger frightened me. I didn’t know the Scriptures very well, but there must surely be a warning there about railing and complaining against God. I knew it wasn’t right. It scared me to be in such a place, yet I couldn’t let it go.
It’s not fair, God!
You’re
not fair!

How dare I be this way? Mother would be horrified at me. John too. They would think that I should cheerfully accept everything that had happened and keep on thanking God.

Eliza was down to the last orange piece. She had tried to offer me several others, but I turned them down. “Please, Mommy,” she suddenly begged. “Please eat this one. I want you to know how sweet it is.”

Her bold words seemed almost like the voice of God telling me to open my heart and listen. I was missing something, something he wanted me to know. I swallowed hard.

“Please, Mommy.”

How could I continue to refuse? She looked very near tears.
Because of me.
Finally, I nodded. She’d prayed for food for
both
of us. She did not want me to deny her answered prayer and make it only half complete. “All right,” I acquiesced. “It would be nice to have a taste.”

I ate the orange slice slowly as Eliza watched my every move. “Wonderful,” I said when I was done. “Imagine such a sweet orange in the middle of the country in September. I wonder where they got it?”

She laughed. “It doesn’t matter, Mommy.
We
got it from God. Isn’t he good?”

She was waiting for my answer. I nodded, knowing it was the best I could do to respond. I would not be able to argue the point with her. In a way, I still wanted to believe it myself. But my pain had built a formidable wall that grew broader and higher with each passing day. I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel the presence of heaven unhindered again.

2
Leah

It would have been nicer had we been able to arrive in Andersonville in the daylight. But fortunately it was such a small town that I’d surely be able to find the proper address without much trouble even at night. Ellie had dozed on the train and was dreadfully sleepy when it came time to step off. That bothered me considerably. How could I manage a drowsy girl and two large bags? What if one of us tripped on the step or caught our skirt on something? What if the train was in too much of a hurry to notice and started moving before we could step away?

I needn’t have worried. One of the railway workers apparently had a home in this town. He was getting off the train at this stop and offered to carry my bags to the station platform when he saw me struggling with my arms so full. “Thank you so much,” I told him.

Eliza stared up at the stranger but didn’t say a word. I was glad to have my hands free. She was so groggy she nearly stumbled as we left the railcar. I took her in both hands and guided her safely down.

This station was nothing like the one in St. Louis. It was much smaller, and no crowd stood waiting. No one at all. I’d expected that, of course. Though I’d written Aunt Marigold weeks ago to say that we might come, I’d had no idea whether it would be practical for her to meet us, so I hadn’t asked. I hadn’t even told her the day of our arrival, because when I’d written her, I wasn’t sure about the whole thing. If there’d been any way for us in St. Louis, I might have taken it.

I couldn’t see much of the little town beyond the depot, but the moon shone almost full, and it was such a beautiful evening that I told myself this would prove to be a pleasant place. A very large windmill stood not far away. A row of businesses lined the narrow street in the opposite direction.

The stranger had just set my bags down, and I was wondering where Malcolm Street might be when he looked around a bit and shook his head. “Someone coming to meet you? Doesn’t look to be anyone here yet.”

I wasn’t sure at first how to respond. But he could see for himself that nobody was hurrying to greet us. And I did not want to appear the least bit troubled by that. “No, sir. We’re not expecting anyone. But we’ll be fine from here alone. Thank you very much for your kind help.”

Still holding one of Ellie’s hands, I leaned and picked up a bag.

“Um . . .” He reached to lift the second bag again before I could get to it. “You mean to walk to wherever you’re going?”

I did not like his persistence, nor his bold reluctance to turn loose of my luggage.

“We’ve made it this far, sir. I’m sure it won’t be difficult for us to walk the rest of the way.”

He tilted his head sideways a bit. “What street you headed for?”

What if he followed us? What if he refused to give up my bag? The train was already beginning to move away, and there was no sign of anyone on these sleepy streets. How could I get this man to leave us alone? “I am not in the habit of telling strangers my personal affairs,” I told him coolly.

He smiled. “Maybe not. But I daresay you could use some help out here with so much to tote. I don’t mind packing the baggage if you’re not going far. Too many blocks, though, and I’d bang on Melvin’s door right across the street there and ask him to take you in his truck. Save you both some walking.”

“No, thank you, sir,” I said as firmly as I could. “There’s no need to disturb a complete stranger. And we’ll be quite all right without your help, though I do appreciate the offer. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your family. Good night.” I tried to take my bag from his hand, but he wouldn’t turn loose of it.

“Don’t have much family to speak of. Just an elderly aunt. And I’m trying to save you some trouble, ma’am. Your little girl there looks awfully tired.”

I was well aware of Eliza’s exhaustion as well as my own. And I knew we would be far more exhausted by the time we reached Aunt Marigold’s door. It wouldn’t be difficult once we found the right street, but that could take a while in the dark. Oh, why hadn’t the train schedule brought us here in daylight? I had considered trying to rest the night right here at the depot and locating the boardinghouse in the morning, but I couldn’t admit such a thing to this forward fellow.

“We’ll be fine, I assure you,” I insisted again. “It was very kind of you to help us off the train, but you’ve no reason to concern yourself further.”

He was quiet for a moment, but he still didn’t let go of my bag. What now? I had not expected such a predicament as this. Could I trust him to help us? How could I be sure he didn’t have something less chivalrous in mind?

“Look, ma’am,” he finally answered. “Maybe you’re perfectly comfortable, and maybe I ought to leave you and the youngster to find your own way. But I’m walking home from here myself. Forgive me for saying – it wouldn’t seem right to leave you and your little girl out after dark without any help. So just point the way or start walking. Your bags aren’t heavy, and it’s a small town. I’ll pack them for you. Won’t take long for me to see you to whatever door’s waiting and go home from there. Or if you won’t let me do that, I’ll just have to follow to make sure you make it where you’re going all right.”

His response may have been sincere, but it rankled me nonetheless. “I told you. We’ll be fine. I am not in the habit of – ”

“Taking help from strangers. Obviously.”

I stared. Eliza pulled at my wrist, but when I turned to her, she didn’t say anything. I leaned to take her into my arms for a moment, and before I could speak, the man was saying something more.

“Maybe you’re scared of me. I understand. But if you’re really frightened of a stranger out here at night, all the more reason not to be walking alone. That might not make sense to you, but it does to me.” He set my bag down, but then he sat on it. “Look. I’m willing to help you. But if you won’t have it, I’ll knock on Mel’s door. Maybe you’d let him
and
his wife take you home. Maybe you’d be more comfortable then. It’s your choice.”

I could tell he was stubborn and I was stuck. He was going to have his way, one way or the other. But for some reason, that made me less apprehensive than I was before. “Well, if you must insist, we are going to Malcolm Street. To a boardinghouse there.”

“Really?” He cocked his head again in the moonlight. “That’s easy. No sense bothering Mel and Dotty for that. They’d think I’d lost my mind.” He stood up and lifted my bag, then took the other from me and threw it over his shoulder. “Can you and the little girl keep up all right? It’s only four blocks.”

I pretended I’d known that all along. “Of course.”

He started off toward the row of businesses with long strides, and Eliza and I indeed had a struggle to not be left behind. For a moment I worried that he might purposely abscond with my bags and lose us, but he soon glanced behind him and slowed a bit.

“So what brings you to Andersonville?” he quizzed. “Can’t say we get travelers here every day just to stop over at our illustrious boardinghouse. How’d you even hear of the place?”

“The proprietor invited us,” I told him, feeling generous to share even that much information.

“Really?” he asked again. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t say.”

He walked on a few steps and then laughed. “All right, then. What’s your name?”

“I am unconvinced that you need to know any more of my business.”

He smiled. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Unconvinced. My name is Josiah Walsh.”

I suppose he thought he was being pleasantly funny. I might have told him otherwise, but he spoke again before I had the chance. “So tell me, the proprietor you were talking about – is she expecting you
tonight
?”

“I can’t imagine why you’d need to know.”

“Maybe I don’t.” He shrugged. “But it does pay to be considerate to your pack mule. A little conversation on the way to a destination never hurt anyone.”

Something about his tone rubbed me the wrong way, and I wished I could yank my bags out of his hands and make him disappear. “I did not ask you to carry my things, Mr. Walsh! I would never call anyone a pack mule. And I see no reason for personal conversation with a stranger, as I have already told you.”

“Whatever you say. Can’t make a lady converse, I guess. Won’t hurt to try, though. Pleasant train trip?”

I ignored his question. The sooner we got to the boardinghouse and were rid of him, the better. I hoped he didn’t ask payment for carrying our things. I had nothing to give him.

Eliza stumbled on a rock, and I reached quickly to keep her from falling. “Do you want me to carry you, sweetie?”

“No, Mommy, I can make it just fine.” She held my hand and looked all around us, taking in what she could as Mr. Walsh glanced back at us again and turned a corner.

“The stars are pretty,” she observed. “Aren’t you glad it isn’t raining?”

“Yes. Very glad.”

Four blocks, he’d said. Surely we were almost there. Eliza was thoroughly awake now, kicking at the occasional rock in front of her toe. Then as I tried to hurry her along, she began skipping.

“Do you think Aunt Marigold’s gone to bed already?” she suddenly asked. “I hope not. It’s a lovely night and I want to meet her.”

Mr. Walsh stopped in his tracks and turned to look at us.

“We’re right behind you, sir.” I tried to sound pleasant. “I can carry the bags the rest of the way if you’d like to go on to your home. Thank you again – ”

“I’ll be finishing what I started, if you please, ma’am.” He took a few steps and then stopped again. “Marigold McSweeney is your aunt?”

“Yes, sir.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think there could be more than one Marigold in a town this size. Least not without me hearing about it.”

I wondered if he thought everyone’s business was his own. Why would it matter who my relatives were? But he wasn’t done with the questions.

“Is she kin on your father’s side or your mother’s?” he asked on.

“My husband’s,” I said tersely, hoping he’d decide to drop the subject.

He looked Eliza and me both over a little more thoroughly. “All right,” he said almost absently. And then he took such a big breath that I could see his shoulders rise. “Any notion how long you may choose to stay in our fair village?”

Once again, his prying fed my ire. “Mr. Walsh, I have no intention – ”

“Of telling your business to strangers. Right.” He turned and started walking again, faster. If we’d had a long way to go, he surely would have left us far behind this time, even with Ellie’s determined skipping. But in the next block of houses, he suddenly stopped.

“There she is.” He pointed to an old two-story home, large but not particularly extraordinary. “Marigold McSweeney’s boardinghouse.”

I expected him to set my bags on the walkway, but he didn’t. What would I tell him if he expected payment? I couldn’t ask Aunt Marigold for money first thing. It was enough to expect her to provide us a bed.

Eliza had stopped just to stare at the house, but I hurried her along, glad to be done with our walk.

“Thank you very much,” I told Mr. Walsh. “I’ll gladly take my bags so you may go – ”

He didn’t seem to hear me, just marched right on toward the house with my luggage still in hand. We had to hurry to keep up until finally he stopped at the front door.

“Thank you so much,” I said again. “You may set my things here on the porch, sir, and be on your way – ”

Once again, he ignored me, stunning me this time with seemingly overwhelming audacity. With one of my bags in hand and the other slung over his shoulder, he turned the knob, flung the door wide, and tromped right into the house.

Eliza moved to follow, but I held her back and stood on the porch, uncertain. Mr. Walsh dropped my bags recklessly at the base of a curved stairway and turned to motion us in. “Don’t worry,” he said in answer to my silence. “I live here. Aunt Mari!” he called toward the back of the house. “You’ve got guests!”