A Family Apart (6 page)

* * *

In the morning, as soon as everyone was dressed and fed, Ma asked Frances, “Will you take the children outside? I’ll come to you when I’m ready.”

Frances stared at her mother. “Why?” she asked. “What are you going to do? Can’t you tell me?”

“I asked for your help,” Ma reminded her. “Right now, the best help you can give me is to take the little ones out and keep an eye on them. Please trust me, Frances.”

Frances nodded and reached for Petey’s hand, leading the other children outside.

In about fifteen minutes Ma joined them. She carried a plump paper parcel wrapped tightly with string, and Frances eyed it suspiciously. The contents of that parcel must have something to do with Mike. It was soft and lumpy, as if it might contain clothes. Did that mean Ma thought Mike wouldn’t be coming home with them? Oh! If only Ma would answer all her questions!

Together the Kelly family walked the many blocks to the city courthouse, then up the wide steps leading to its large outer doors. Frances was awed into silence by the high lobby ceiling with its ornate arches and by the many people who pushed and twisted past one another, hurrying in and out of the building. The children clung closely to their mother.

But Ma had spied someone over the heads of those around her, and she steered her family in the direction of a portly gentleman with a thick, dark beard and eyebrows to match. He smiled, then solemnly shook hands with each of the Kellys as Ma introduced them one by one.

“Children, this is Mr. Charles Loring Brace,” Ma said.
The man who sends orphans out West!
Frances remembered
his name with alarm.
How can he help Mike? Mike isn’t an orphan.

Frances studied Reverend Brace as he pulled a watch from the little pocket in front of his vest and glanced at it before tucking it back in place. Was he here to defend Mike? To keep him out of jail? She looked from him to her mother and shivered, suddenly cold with the suspicion that Reverend Brace could keep Mike out of jail in only one way—by sending him to live with a family in the West.

“Time to go to court,” Reverend Brace said. “The room is in this direction.”

“Ma?” Frances urgently tugged at her mother’s skirt, but Ma shook her head for silence and followed Reverend Brace into the courtroom.

Frances wanted to plead with her mother, to beg her not to let Mike be sent away, but a calmer, inner voice kept reminding her that a new home for Mike would be much better than a cell in Tombs Prison. And hadn’t Mike said over and over that he’d like to go west?

Most of the benches in the large, crowded courtroom were filled, but Reverend Brace found a place where the Kellys could squeeze in. Frances ducked her head a little and lifted Peg to her lap, glad for the chance to hold tightly to someone. Peg wasn’t her usual energetic, independent self and snuggled gratefully against her sister. Megan sat between Frances and Ma, while Danny slumped unhappily on her left. Frances hurt almost as much for Danny as for Mike. He was heartbroken at what had happened to the brother he worshiped.

Men in dark, snugly buttoned suit coats and trousers, many of them wearing full beards that hid their high collars, talked to one another inside an area that was separated from the rows of seats by a low wooden
railing. Against the far wall stood a high desk, and behind the desk sat the judge, who wore a black robe with full sleeves.

Suddenly the room was called to order. People either left the area or sat down, as a young man, dirty and ragged, was brought by uniformed officers to stand before the judge. As the accusation against him of assault and robbery in Gramercy Park was read aloud, Frances leaned forward to listen. Robbery. The same charge would be brought against Mike. But Mike wasn’t a real thief like this one. With a sharp jolt of fear, Frances knew that others in the room would see no difference between Mike and this thief. After the charge had been read, the judge quickly conferred with two of the men who occasionally bent to whisper to accuser and accused, then soundly rapped his gavel on the desk as he loudly announced, “Five years in Tombs Prison.”

Frances shivered as the man was led away and another one brought before the judge. Would Mike’s future be decided by a decision this swift?

It took almost an hour by the big clock that hung on the side wall before Mike was led in. Petey, who had wiggled and squirmed before almost falling asleep on Ma’s lap, jumped up and yelled, “Mike! There’s Mike!”

Danny groaned aloud.

Mike looked at them, fear and shame in his face. The judge turned to scowl at Petey, and Ma quickly hushed him. Frances held her breath as the charges against Mike were read aloud. Megan’s fingernails dug into the palm of her hand, but Frances didn’t mind the pain. The still-angry gentleman whose pocket had been picked stood inside the railing and scowled at Mike.

“Your Honor, may I have your permission to approach
the bench?” Reverend Brace stood at the railing, facing the judge.

“Ah, Reverend Brace again,” the judge said. “I know how you collect ragamuffins, but don’t tell me that you have come to speak a good word for this little thief?”

“I have come to ask for Michael Kelly,” Reverend Brace answered. “As you know, Your Honor, it is my firm belief that these street children should have a chance at a new life with farm families in the West. I have talked to Michael’s mother, and I sincerely believe that Michael is a good boy and was driven to thievery by the circumstances in which he lives.”

Frances cried aloud, and several people in the courtroom turned to look at her. Her guess had been right. Mike was going to be sent away. She might never see her brother again!

The judge frowned. “We’ve heard this sermon before, Reverend Brace. You have your convictions, and I have mine. I feel that the best action to take with a boy who steals is to get him off the street.” He picked up his gavel.

Suddenly Ma stood, and her voice rang out so loudly that the judge started. “Your Honor,” she called, “may I please speak?” She continued without waiting for an answer. “It’s easy to see that both you and Reverend Brace have the same idea. He wishes to take Michael off the street, too. It’s just that Reverend Brace has a different way of going about it, sir.”

Someone laughed. The judged blinked and looked hard at Ma, but she continued bravely. “Your Honor, sir, I have six fine children, but since my husband died last year our struggle has been difficult, and my children have been exposed to the temptations of the street. I have done my best, but it’s unable I am to both feed
them and protect them from danger.” She paused and took a deep breath. “So I have asked Reverend Brace to send all my children west to be placed in homes with good people who can give them what I can’t. Please, sir, it’s begging you with all my heart I am that you allow Michael to go with his brothers and sisters.”

Terrified, Frances cried out, “Ma! You can’t!” But Ma, in her determination, ignored Frances, keeping her eyes on the judge.

Frances heard Danny try to smother a sob, while Peg, on Frances’s lap, struggled to free herself, muttering, “Let me out!” Petey, who clung to Ma’s skirt, stared with big eyes at Frances, his plump face beginning to reflect the look of horror she knew he must see on her own.

“Come down here, ma’am.” The judge looked at the paper in front of him and added, “Mrs. Kelly.”

As Ma tried to sidle past the children on the bench to reach the aisle, Peg jumped up to clasp her waist, and Petey grabbed her around the legs, wailing, “Ma! Don’t leave me!”

“Frances, you promised!” Ma said, as she tried to break Petey’s hold. “Help me now!”

“Bring the children with you,” the judge ordered, “and quiet that boy.”

Frances, numb with shock, automatically took charge of the children. Holding the sobbing Petey with one hand and Peg with the other, she followed her mother, Megan, and Danny down the aisle, through a gate in the railing, to a spot in front of the judge.

“Ouch!” Peg complained as she squirmed, trying to pull her hand from Frances’s tight grasp. “You’re hurting me!”

Megan reached for Peg, so Frances hoisted Petey into her arms and impatiently hissed, “You
must
be
quiet!” Petey gulped back a fresh sob, but the tears continued to stream down his face.

Frances looked from the judge to her mother and back again, waiting for someone to say something. Ma’s gaze didn’t falter as she stood quietly, meeting the judge’s look with shoulders back and chin held high.

The judge carefully studied each of the Kellys in turn, scowling and rubbing his chin as he tried to make up his mind.

It seemed forever before he finally turned to Reverend Brace. “Is all of what Mrs. Kelly told me true, to your knowledge, sir?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Reverend Brace said. “I have agreed to place all her children in new homes.”

The judge hit his gavel on the desk with such force that Frances winced. “Then I hereby release Michael Kelly to your care.” He scowled again, this time at Mike. “As for you, young man,” he said, “if you do not prove worthy of a new home, if you must be sent back, then you’ll find yourself residing in Tombs Prison with others of your kind!”

Before Ma could thank the judge, he waved them away and called for the next prisoner to be brought before him. They were shepherded out of the courtroom into the hallway, and soon an officer brought Mike to them.

“It’s eternally grateful I am to you,” Ma said to Reverend Brace. “Michael will prove your trust in him. Of that, I’m sure.” She put a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “I want your solemn promise, Michael Patrick Kelly, that you will never be a pickpocket again.”

“I promise you, Ma,” Mike said. “I already promised the same thing to myself.” His chin began to tremble, and he flung himself against his mother, hugging her around the waist.

Ma thrust the parcel at Reverend Brace. “Here are their belongings. Mike’s book, a few toys, some clothes.” For a moment she seemed to falter. “They own very little.”

“He’s not taking us now, Ma! We’re going home, aren’t we?” Frances’s heart pounded so loudly it made her dizzy. Reverend Brace rested a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away from him.

Ma shook her head. “There’s not time. Reverend Brace has arranged for you to join the children leaving today. Besides, it would be harder for all of us if you went home. It’s much better this way.” Her eyes shimmered as she added, “Believe me, love.”

“No!” Frances shouted. “You can’t do this!”

“Why are you sending us away?” Danny cried. “Is it because of what Mike did? He won’t do it again, Ma. You heard him promise!”

“It’s my fault. I’m this family’s bad-luck penny,” Megan whispered. She leaned against Frances and began to sob.

“It’s not your fault! Ma’s to blame!” Frances said, but Megan and Danny’s outbursts of tears had set off the little ones, and no one heard her.

Ma tried to quiet Peg and Petey, who clung to her in desperation. She looked up to Frances. “Help me, love. Help me to make them understand.”

“No!” Frances steeled herself against the hurt and astonishment in her mother’s eyes. “I won’t help you, because I don’t understand, either!” Da’s face suddenly came into her mind. He wouldn’t have let this happen. It had nearly killed her to lose Da, and now she would be losing Ma, too. And at Ma’s own wish! She clenched her teeth, fighting the tears away, then met her mother’s gaze with all the strength and anger she possessed. “How can a mother give away her own children?” she demanded.

Ma gripped Frances’s shoulders and stared into her eyes. “You heard what I told the judge. It’s because I can’t provide you with the good home you should have. I can’t keep the boys from the streets. I can’t fill your stomachs with good food. It’s the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do, Frances, but it’s a sacrifice that must be made.”

“You don’t love us enough to keep us.”

“Oh, Frances Mary, don’t you realize? It’s because I love you so much that I am able to send you away!”

Frances didn’t speak. She didn’t move to touch her mother, even though a part of her ached to do it. If you loved someone, you kept that person close. You didn’t send someone you cared about away to live among strangers. She couldn’t understand her mother’s mixed-up thinking. Her entire body ached with shock and confusion, and she clenched her teeth against the pain.

“When must we leave?” practical Megan whispered.

“Now,” Ma said, and she knelt to enfold her children.

“Please, Ma, no!” Megan sobbed.

Peg, her small freckled face blotchy from tears, hiccupped with dry sobs and clung tightly to one of Ma’s legs. Danny and Mike were pale, pressed shoulder to shoulder for support, just the way they had been after Da had died. This was like another death, Frances thought, only she felt as if she were the one who had died. All that was left of her was a hard, cold emptiness that had eaten away everything else inside her.

“I don’t want to go away from you!” Petey wrapped his arms tightly around Ma’s neck.

“My darling lad, it’s for the best,” Ma murmured, and Frances could hear Ma’s voice tremble with the tears she was holding back.

Ma wiped away Petey’s tears and tried to cheer him
with a smile, but even when she smiled her face looked lined and exhausted.

“Reverend Brace told me that you’ll have wholesome food, and a clean bed of your own, and schooling, and all sorts of fine things, the like of which I could never, ever give you, no matter how hard we work,” Ma said.

“But I won’t have
you
!” Petey wailed.

“You’ll have Frances,” Ma told him. She looked up at Frances. “It’s a special care this littlest one will be needing,” she said, “and it’s you I’ll be counting on to give it.”

Frances just stared back. She wanted to tell her mother how lonely and hurt she was, but the words had frozen in her throat.

“Frances Mary Kelly.” Her mother stood to face her, and her voice was firm and strong again. “I want your promise.”

Frances nodded, and now her voice matched her mother’s in its strength and determination. “I promise,” she said. “And I also promise that I’ll do my best to be mother to these children in place of the mother who doesn’t want them.”