The Children of Fear (8 page)

“My mother used to make delicious porridge,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall. The motion of the train vibrated along his skull. “I used to eat four bowls every morning.”

“What happened to your mother?” she asked. Concern filled her voice.

“She and my father were going to the Centennial Exposition. The wagon rolled over on them. Killed them both.” The memory made him shudder. He didn't want to tell her how the horses had suddenly gone wild and bolted. He still could not believe that his father had lost control of the animals.

“I'm sorry.”

I could talk with her all night, Luke thought. “What happened to your parents?” he asked gently, anticipating that hers had died as well.

“They both died of influenza,” she answered quietly. “Not long ago,” she added. Mary drew up her knees and covered her face with her hands. He could see her shoulders shaking.

He felt sorry he had upset her. He remembered how hard it was the first few weeks after his parents had died. He kept expecting to see them, to hear their voices.

Luke cleared his throat. “There's a hole in the roof of the boxcar. I can see the stars.”

She glanced up. In the moonlight, Luke could see where a tear had trailed down her cheek.

“Let's make a wish,” he suggested, hoping to distract her from her sad thoughts.

She gave him a quivering smile. “I haven't wished on a star since I was a child.”

“That's too long,” he assured her. “Make a wish.”

She sniffed and looked back up at the small bit of sky visible through the hole.

“I hope you, your brother, and your sister are all adopted by a nice family at the next town,” she said quietly.

She is so generous, Luke thought. Thinking of others before herself.

“I wish the same thing for you,” Luke said.

A timid smile played over her full lips.

Luke grinned at her. I have found one good thing about the orphan train, he realized. Mary.

T
he next day the train ground to a halt just after sunrise. The whistle shrieked and the wheels screeched.

Luke heard several children moan. A few sniffled.

“I wanna go home,” a little girl said.

“You don't have a home,” someone told her. “None of us does.”

Luke pulled the comb he had borrowed from Mary through Corey's hair until he had worked out all the tangles. He spat on his hand and rubbed the smudges of dirt off Corey's cheeks.

Corey wrinkled his nose. “Sorry, Corey,” Luke said. “It's the best I can do for now.” He straightened the collar on Corey's flannel shirt and refastened the side of his overalls that had come undone during the night.

Luke turned his attention to Leah. She narrowed her eyes. “Don't you dare put your spit on my face,” she warned him.

Luke tilted his head and pretended to study her. “What do you think, Corey? Should I put some spit on her?”

Corey smiled brightly and bobbed his head, his dark hair flopping against his forehead.

Leah put up her fists. “If you do, I'll smack you both on the nose.”

Her words took Luke back to a time when they had often teased each other … before their parents had died … when they were all happy.

“She doesn't need spit on her face,” Luke said, forcing his voice to sound serious. “She needs a smile!”

Leah shrieked as Luke grabbed her waist. They tumbled onto the straw-covered floor. Luke tickled her ribs. “Smile, Leah!” he ordered.

“No!” she cried.

“Help me, Corey,” Luke called out. “Help me make her smile.”

Luke laughed as Corey slipped under his arms and began to tickle Leah's stomach, his small fingers flexing.

“Stop it!” Leah cried, but Luke heard no anger in her voice.

“We'll stop when you smile,” Luke told her.

“I'll never smile,” she insisted. “Never!”

“Come on, Corey,” Luke urged. “Tickle her harder.”

Then Luke did hear laughter, but it wasn't Leah's laughter.

It was Corey's.

Luke stilled and listened in amazement as Corey laughed, his small fingers digging into Leah's sides.

“Do you hear that, Leah?” Luke asked.

“Yes,” she replied in a hushed voice, as though afraid if she spoke too loud, the sound would go away.

Luke stood and lifted Corey into air. “You laughed! If you can laugh, you can talk. Can you say my name?”

Corey stopped laughing and shook his head.

Leah stood up. “Try, Corey. Try to say Luke's name. It's so easy.”

Corey tightened his mouth and vigorously shook his head.

Leah held out her arms, and Luke handed Corey over to her. She hugged him closely. “Luke's right. If you can laugh, you can talk.” She began to rock back and forth. “Soon. Soon you'll talk again.”

She looked at Luke and smiled. Luke smiled back.

They both jumped as the matron burst through the door. Even though her bottom lip was still puffy from the bee sting, she blew on her whistle.

“Everyone off the train!” she bellowed. “Step lively. Be on your best behavior!”

Luke jumped out of the boxcar. He helped Leah and Corey climb out. Then he held his arms up for Mary. She smiled at him. Mary is even more beautiful in the sunlight, Luke realized, feeling dazed.

He swung her down to the ground, unable to take his eyes off her.

“You seem happier this morning,” she told him.

Luke nodded. “It's been a long time since we all laughed together. It felt good.”

“I hope you find a family today. Good luck,” she said softly.

He watched her walk a short distance away. She looks so nervous, he thought. I wish I could stand with her.

“Let's wait over there,” Luke said. He wondered if they would get picked right away. If they did, he hoped Mary would get picked too. He would like to live in the same town she did.

Luke took Corey's hand and led them to a spot away from Mike and his brothers, but close enough to the other children that he could still see Mary. Leah shuffled behind him.

A prosperous-looking couple approached them. The man had a large stomach that stopped him from buttoning his fine jacket. The woman wore a dainty hat and a green silk dress.

The man's stomach jiggled as he shook Luke's hand. “You've got a good strong grip, son,” he said loudly.

“Thank you, sir,” Luke said.

The man squeezed Luke's arms. “Lot of muscle here.”

“Yes, sir,” Luke acknowledged, feeling like a horse about to go on the auction block. “I was a farmer.”

“A farmer?” the man echoed. “I own a general store. I'm looking for someone strong enough to lift crates and boxes for me.”

“I could do that, sir,” Luke assured him. “I've chopped wood and hauled hay most of my life.”

“And we'd like a young girl to work behind the counter,” the woman said as she smiled at Leah.

Luke stole a glance at his sister. Leah's smile had disappeared. Now she looked sullen. Luke nudged her shoulder, but Leah only drew her lips into a straight line.

We'll never get adopted at this rate, Luke thought. “I'm Luke Fier, and this is my sister, Leah.”

The woman knelt and took Corey's chin in her hand. “Aren't you a cute one? What's your name?”

“His name is Corey,” Luke offered.

“How old are you, Corey?” the woman asked.

“He's six,” Luke told her.

The woman glanced up at Luke, her brow furrowed.

Luke cleared his throat. “He hasn't spoken since our parents died.”

“Oh.” The woman stood and slipped her arm through her husband's. “We really need children who will talk to help us with the store.”

They strolled away, and Luke fought off his disappointment. “Leah, you should have smiled at that woman,” he scolded. “They seemed like nice people.”

“I feel like a hog on display at the county fair,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “People look us up and down. Poke you to see how strong you are. I'm surprised they didn't open our mouths and count our teeth.”

“I don't like it either, Leah, but we don't have a choice right now. And Corey needs a home to grow up in. A home where he can laugh and talk again,” Luke said.

She rolled her eyes. “All right. I'll be nicer next time.”

Relieved, Luke looked over at Mary, hoping she was having better luck. A couple had stopped to speak to her, but they soon drifted away.

If she doesn't find a home today, she'll go back on the train. And I can talk to her some more, Luke thought. Though they'd spoken only once or twice, Luke knew he'd miss her if she left now.

“Oh, my goodness!” Luke heard a woman exclaim. “Isn't he a doll? He has such beautiful green eyes.”

He snapped his head around in time to see a woman hug Corey tightly.

“What do you think, Alfred?” she asked.

A tall man stood behind her. He brushed his finger repeatedly over his black mustache. “Well, he looks a bit puny, the runt of the litter so to speak.”

“But he'll grow,” she replied, and leaned closer to Corey. “Won't you?”

Shaking his head, Corey stepped back and landed on Luke's foot.

The woman laughed lightly. “Of course you'll grow. You'll grow to be big and strong.”

“He doesn't talk,” Leah said impatiently.

The woman's blue eyes widened in surprise. “He doesn't talk?” She looked first at Leah, then at Luke. “He doesn't talk?”

“No, ma'am,” Luke said.

“Then he's a dimwit,” Alfred said, “and he won't do at all.”

“He's not a dimwit,” Leah snapped. “He's cursed. We're all cursed.”

The woman gasped and stepped back.

“Leah!” Luke scolded. “Don't tell lies.”

“But it's true,” Leah said, her eyes widening. “Look at our name. Fier. If you rearrange the letters, it spells f-i-r-e. Fire! Fiery deaths have followed our family through the centuries. Our house was set on fire. That's why we had to run away. Father told me—”

The woman grew pale and grabbed her husband's arm. “I don't think this child is for us.”

Luke watched the couple hurry away. He felt the
anger rise within him. Anger at Leah because she was making this so difficult.

“Don't tell any more lies,” Luke ordered.

“I wasn't lying. Our house was set on fire,” she insisted. “Didn't Father ever tell you that our family is cursed?”

“No,” Luke said. “But if he had told me we were cursed, I wouldn't have told those people. You frightened them away.”

“I didn't like them.” She lifted her hands and wiggled her fingers. “Oh, Alfred!” she squealed in a high-pitched voice, imitating the woman who had just walked away.

Luke fought back a smile. Then he gave a snort of laughter. He couldn't help himself.

Leah reached up, pinched his cheek, and wrinkled her nose. “Aren't you a doll? Shall I put you on a shelf in the parlor? I promise to dust you once in a while.”

Luke laughed. “All right. You made your point. They aren't exactly what we want.”

She pushed out her lower lip. “Besides, they wanted only Corey. Not you and me. We all have to stay together.”

Luke couldn't argue with that. He put his hand on Leah's shoulder. “I won't let anyone take just one of us. I promise you that.”

“You promised you wouldn't put us on the orphan train, and here we are!” she reminded him.

Luke sighed in exasperation. He glanced around the train depot and platform. He watched as the children's faces brightened whenever someone stopped to talk with them. As the people walked away, their faces would fall.

Luke saw a man lift a little girl into his arms. His
wife tweaked the little girl's nose as they walked away. At least she found a home, he thought.

His gaze fell on Mike. Mike was talking to a smiling woman in a fancy white dress. She seems to like him, Luke thought. I hope she adopts him. Then I'll have one less thing to worry about.

The woman began to nod her head, and Mike gave her a wide grin.

Luke heard a low growl. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a large collie rush past. It sprang on Mike and knocked him to the ground.

Mike dug his fingers into the animal's fur, but he couldn't move the dog off his chest. “Help!” he shrieked.

Luke heard the snap of the dog's powerful jaws as its large teeth sank into Mike's cheek. It jerked its head back and forth—and ripped a chunk of flesh from Mike's face.

Mike uttered a shrill squeal of agony. Blood spurted from the gaping wound, showering the hem of the woman's white dress in red. She shrieked.

Mike screamed again, shoving at the dog. Snarling, it pulled its lips back and bared its bloodied teeth.

Luke heard cries of terror as people began to run for the safety of the nearby trees. Like a mother hen, he saw the matron began to gather up the smaller children.