Free download example of a short story from J.B. Patel
“Sometimes I Cry in the Night”
A short story of orphan train riders.
“Sometimes I Cry in the Night”
Introduction;
During the era of the orphan trains, up to a quarter of a million orphaned, neglected or abandoned children were removed mostly from larger populations and dispersed throughout the country. The lucky ones were adopted into well intentioned families, some were indentured, literally enslaved and many terribly abused. What is it about the human spirit that allows some of those subjected to such treatment to rise above and succeed in spite their condition?
The Orphan Train ran from 1854 until 1929, according to records at the Monroe County Library in Sparta, Wisconsin, the train stopped taking children from the Sparta facility in 1933. In 1878 Wisconsin built the ‘State School for Orphan and Dependent Children’ at Sparta Wisconsin. The facility was built near the railroad station to take advantage of the practice of shipping orphans to western states. On Tuesdays, overflow children from the Sparta orphanage were added to others already on the train and sent west. The Orphan Train idea was born in New York which had about 30,000 street orphans in 1854. It is estimated, from 150,000 to 250,000 children were sent on trains all over the nation and Canada during the years the train was in existence.
In the late 1800’s a parent or a guardian could merely drop an unwanted child off at the Sparta, Wisconsin center. The center would attempt to find a local home, if adoption, or indenture of those over thirteen-years-old, did not occur, the child was put on the train. The train made stops from town to town, children would change into their ‘good’ or ‘show’ clothes and would be put on display. People wanting a child would have them sing or say a poem; they would push, pull, turn, check their teeth, squeeze their arms to check for muscle and otherwise jostle the orphans about to inspect and make selections. At the end of the train run, if nobody chose the child, the child was put back on the train and returned to New York.
Some children over thirteen were old enough to be indentured, in that case the family receiving the indentured child was supposed to educate them, provide food, clothing and a place to sleep. At the conclusion of the indenture, at eighteen years old, the child could be brought back to Sparta, in which case the family would be charged a fifty-dollar fee.
Lest you think that I escalate the bad conditions in my stories, consider the following. In a US Children’s Bureau assessment; circa 1923, they described indentured homes to be; “deplorable-filthy, with little attention to medical, social, or educational needs, children were shifted from one home to another, they had no training outside of house or farm-work, as a result drifted from one job to another after they completed their indenture.”
I have written stories of orphans adopted into good families and stories of children literally used like slaves, there are many stories of orphan train riders. The following story is fictional, the basis for much of the writing was taken from actual occurrences. “Sometimes I Cry in the Night,” relates the tale of an Orphan Train rider that turns his rejection into independence and reclusiveness until he sees a mirror image of himself in a runaway lad from the Orphan Train. Unlike the lives of many of the orphans, in this story and most of the stories I write, everything turns out well in the end.
One of the most difficult things to do while trying to write about the orphans is relate their feelings. After spending nearly six years at the Sparta, Wisconsin Child Center, I think I have some insight. However, it is difficult to communicate how the child would feel, in some instances it is heartbreaking just to attempt to ‘go there.’ In the final analysis, I’ll probably fail miserably in regard to portraying their joy or their heartbreak.
Sometimes I Cry in the Night
The orphan train pulled away from its stop at Sparta, Wisconsin after picking up another thirty-eight orphans from the State School for Dependent, Orphaned and Neglected Children, now two-hundred-twenty-five in all, they were destined for the unknown. Many of the newcomers broke into song, they had hopeful thoughts of being part of a family. Marissa Lamont, a passenger since the stop in Milwaukee, still had tears running down her cheeks. Tears at the recollection of thetragic loss of her family and now bewildered at why and where the train would take her. Through tears,Marissa’s eyes chanced another glance across the aisle at the boy referred to as Rory, his expression hadn’t changed in over two hundred miles.
Like Marissa, Rory didn’t join in singing, he sat bolt upright, on this trip he held no hope for the eventual outcome, nor did he share in the newcomer’s happiness, for he had insight into what the rest of the orphans would be going through. This was Rory’s second trip on the orphan train. Although Rory appeared remote, aloof and indifferent, he was constantly watchful, his eyes missed nothing; such was the defensive, self-protective makeup of many orphans. The girl across from him had been crying since she was put on the train in Milwaukee, Rory remained aloof but on the inside, her tears bothered him.
The orphan train made many stops in Wisconsin and Minnesota, by the time they got through Minnesota many of the orphans had been picked. Among the remaining was Rory and Marissa along with about thirty others. It was early evening, Marissa moved across the aisle and sat down beside Rory. Tears stained her cheeks as she continued to cry. Rory didn’t understand why she sat beside him but he gently advised. “You will have to try to stop crying or nobody will pick you.”
Something had drawnMarissa across the aisle, it seemed to Marissa there was a strength about the aloof boy; and, she didn’t want to sit by herself. Now she appreciated that someone chose to talk to her. She was numb, drained of emotion, she shrugged, “I don’t care.”
Without feeling Rory replied, “You must care. Do you know what happens to you if nobody takes you?”
Marissa shook her head, “No.”
Rory explained, “At the end of the run they put you back on the train and take you back to New York.”
Marissa asked, “New York? How do you know?”
Without feeling, Rory answered, “This is my second trip. I was sent back the first time.”
As Marissa looked at Rory she marveled at how steadfast he was. Marissa asked, “A lot of kids cry. I’ve never seen you cry.”
Rory quietly responded, “Everyone cries.”
Marissa pushed, “Even you?”
Rory dodged the question, “I don’t want people to see me cry. I don’t want them to know that I’m weak or afraid.”
Again, Marissa asked, “Do you ever cry?”
Rory had the slightest smile at her persistence. Quietly, secretly, seeming apologetic, he replied, “Sometimes I cry in the night.”
Rory’s admission helped her to explain; as Marissa choked back tears as she told of the deaths of her entire family. “Mom, daddy, my brother and sister Ellen died. Our house burned down. I was away at the neighbors taking care of their children.”
Rory realized that her luck at being away from home now became guilt. It seemed Rory understood too much for one his age. Rory asked, “What’s your name?”
“Marissa Lamont.”
Again, Rory showed that he understood way too much for one so young. He said, “Marissa. You must consider yourself lucky.”
Marissa exclaimed, “Lucky?”
Gently Rory explained, “Yes Marissa. Always remember your family. Always remember what your family was like, that way you can someday, start over with a family of your own.”
“What is your name?”
“Rory.”
“What is your last name?”
Rory shook his head, “I’m not lucky.”
“What you mean you’re not lucky?”
Without smiling Rory replied, “I don’t have a last name. I don’t know who my mother or father was. I don’t know if I have had brothers or sisters.”
Marissa continued to poke at his hardened exterior, “Is that why you are so quiet?”
Rory shrugged, Marissa asked, “Are you mean?”
Rory shook his head, “No. I just like to be alone. That way I get into less trouble.”
Marissa had stopped crying for the first time in the past day. She asked, “Is it alright if I sit with you. I’m scared. I feel better talking to you.”
Rory shrugged, “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”
Marissa asked, “Are you afraid?”
Rory shook his head, “No. Whoever takes us, they will have to feed us and protect us. My job will be to do the best I can at what I’m told to do. I’m thinking it will be a little bit like having a mother and father.”
Marissa started to whimper again. Rory said, “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. If you do your best, if you do what you are told, you will be all right.”
Rory asked, “Tell me about your father. Was he good to you? Did he hit you?”
“No. My dad was a good father.”
Rory explained, “Some kids at the orphanage said their fathers would beat them. Some kids were taken away from their families because their dad or their mom didn’t treat them right.”
After some consideration, Marissa said, “I think you are right Rory. I was lucky. My mom and dad were good to us. They loved us, they loved each other. I’m going to take your advice Rory. I’ll always remember what a family should be like.”
The statement was meant to be thankful but Rory was saddened because he had never experienced a family. What would he pattern a family after? Would he ever have a family? He thought not. Someday he thought he wanted to be far away from people, but now, what was it about Marissa’s reliance on him it gave him pause. Marissa made him feel better, more complete, almost a part.
The train parked on a sidetrack for the night, bagged lunches were provided, soon most of the children were fast asleep. Marissa again crossed the aisle to be with Rory. She seemed to be more at peace in his presence. Mr. Zimms announced there would be no more talking, soon Marissa fell asleep and ended up leaning on Rory. Rory again had a good feeling, as if he was her protector. Puzzled by this strange new emotion, he reached over to touch her hair, then more at ease than usual he too soon fell fast asleep.
At daybreak Delbert Zimms yelled orders from the back of the railcar. “Listen carefully. Sit up straight and listen. If you have to go, do it as soon as I get done talking.”
Delbert carried his paddle with him as he walked down the aisle. “Our next stop will be in about two hours. Get dressed in your good clothes, make sure you are clean and your hair is combed.”
Marissa was back across the aisle from Rory, she motioned that his shoe was untied. Rory bent over to tie his shoe. At that time Delbert Zimms appeared behind Rory, Delbert delivered a mean, stinging blow across Rory’s shoulders. Surprised and pained by the blow, Rory sat up and rubbed his back. Delbert snapped, “I told you to set up straight.”
Rory politely explained, “I was tying my shoe, Sir.”
Without remorse Delbert snapped again, “Do as you are told.”
Rory looked straight ahead, stoic, remote, aloof, unknowingly retreating into his shell of self-protection. The warmth, sharing and caring from the night before, suddenly forgotten by Delbert’s unwarranted blow.
Two stops later Marissa spoke quietly to Rory, “I’m sorry.”
Rory shrugged and replied, “You weren’t the one that hit me.”
Marissa shook her head, “He hit you so hard. I don’t understand.”
Rory nodded, “I think some people feel like they have to hit. I don’t know why.”
Marissa asked, “Can I sit with you?”
Rory moved over, Marissa crossed the aisle, they sat in silence for some time. Finally, Rory said, “You stopped crying. That’s good.”
Marissa had a slight smile, “I don’t feel so good, I wish I would get picked so I can be done with the shows. I hate the shows. One man asked me to dance; I don’t know how to dance.”
Rory explained, “Some can be unreasonable. First, they take the real young girls and bigger girls that can work. You arein between. But you’ll get picked. You won’t have to go back to New York.”
Marissa replied, “I hope so.”
Marissa looked up at her aloof friend. She asked, “Are you angry with the mister?”
Mister was the name given to their male keepers, Miss or Mrs. to the women in charge. Most orphan train riders would not be with their keepers long enough to learn their names. Slowly Rory shook his head, “It doesn’t pay to be angry. It just leads to more beatings. I think we’re better off if we try to do our best. If we try to get along.”
Marissa asked, “Do you just bite your tongue?”
The saying was common among the orphans and those somehow squelched from saying what was on their mind. Rory smiled and nodded agreement. Marissa offered, “I am eight-years old.”
Rory glanced her way and responded, “I am twelve.”
“I hope you get picked, Rory.”
“This trip I am bigger than I was during the first trip. At the orphanage, Mr. Paul said I should grow to be good sized because I had big feet.”
Marissa smiled, she looked up at Rory hoping for approval, “Maybe someone will look at your feet and pick you.”
Rory recognized her joke, he smiled thus giving her the approval she sought. Marissa added, “Maybe I should steal the big pair of shoes.”
From the back of the railcar Delbert Zimms addressed the group, “Get into your good clothes, comb your hair and make sure your shoes are clean. Remember to smile, be at your best, we are running out of stops.”
Marissa touched Rory’s arm and said, “I hope you get picked by someone real nice.”
The seven remaining orphan train riders were lined up in front of the church. Three kids were taken right away, sometime later a tall well-dressed woman selected Marissa. Marissa walked away with a smile; just before leaving she turned and waved at Rory.
Rory had seen or heard hundreds of orphan stories, the saddest among them was the splitting up of families. Brothers and sisters torn apart and led out screaming after being picked, some never to hear from each other again. Such was Rory’s thinking as his new friend Marissa was led out of the church.
An hour later a man entered the church, he looked the children over for some time before talking to Delbert Zimms. After a lengthy discussion with Delbert, the man signed some papers. Delbert motioned to Rory to come forward. Rory stood in front of Delbert who simply said, “Rory. This is Wilbert Becker. He has agreed to take you on as an indenture. You listen to him and do as you are told.”
Such was Rory’s introduction to Wilbert Becker, for the next eighteen months, Rory was Becker’s shadow and helper as Becker built his house from the ground up. Rory learned much of the many facets of building and later on of cabinetry. The house was large,the Becker family would soon arrive by rail from Chicago. Rory wondered what the family would be like, he wondered which of the rooms he would occupy. He wondered again what it would be like to be part of a family.
Within a very few days the family was due to arrive. While Rory was sawing up firewood for cooking and winter heat, a man entered the yard and spoke to Becker.Rory watched, it was evident that money exchanged hands. After some time,Becker yelled, “Rory! Come here.”
As Rory approached, he heard the stranger say, “You sure he knows what he’s doing?”
Becker nodded, “He’s a smart lad. Knows all about building from the ground up. I’ve never had to take a stick to him. He knows what he doing. He can guide you from start to finish.”
Becker introduced Rory, “This here is John Goodman. John is building a house, he can use some help. You go get your things together and go with him.”
Rory had learned much in the past year from Becker, but he still lacked strength enough to take on the entire job of building a house by himself. He would need good help.
John Goodman’s expectations for Rory were high, meanwhile Goodman, his wife Martha and his son Luke were lacking in ambition. To make matters more unworkable, Goodman’s wife and son seemed to run roughshod over Goodman. Rory thought that all three were lazy.
When Rory arrived at Goodman’s he was disheartened. The family lived temporarily in a Conestoga wagon. The ground was haphazardly cleared and a layer of logs were set for the new house. At a glance, Rory recognized the logs were out of square and were not level. Since it was early evening, they ate, then Goodman took Rory out to look over the building. Goodman said, “Well, what do you think?”