Julia's Last Hope (12 page)
“Oh yes. He cares. He means well. We’ve been told that he even has the foolish notion of a hasty marriage. Thinks that will give her ‘security’—help her get well again. It just doesn’t work. We’ve tried to let others out. They do all right for a few days or possibly weeks—and then they need to be locked up again.”
“Locked up?” gasped Julia. It sounded so cruel. “What do you mean? She is such a—a sweet, agreeable person. Perhaps a bit confused, but perfectly harmless. She—”
“No one confined to an asylum can be considered harmless,” said the man. “She might seem fine today—but who knows what her confusion will cause her to do tomorrow? She might start setting fires, or she might take a knife to someone or something.”
Julia’s eyes widened with shock. “Not Mrs. Williams!” she gasped.
“Miss Whistler,” corrected the smaller of the two men.
“Why I—I just can’t believe it. I mean—”
“We’re going to be taking them back,” said the bigger man.
“Oh my! I do wish—You don’t think they would be fine if someone watched out for them? I mean—”
“Sorry, ma’am, but we can’t take those chances.”
“Of course,” murmured Julia.
“Now if you’ll just go get your boarders, we’ll be on our way.”
“House guests,” Julia corrected. All the way up the long flight of stairs and down the hallway Julia mumbled. “What a shame! What an awful shame.” She raised her calico apron to brush away the tears.
She hesitated before the door of the bedroom occupied by Mr. Williams. She had decided to speak to him first. He could talk to his wife—to Miss Whistler. He would know the best way to break the news to her.
Julia sniffed away her tears and lifted a trembling hand to knock. There was no answer so she knocked again. Still no answer.
“Mr. Williams? Mr. Williams,” called Julia, softly at first and then louder. Still no answer.
“That’s funny, I didn’t see them go out.”
A noise behind Julia caused her to wheel around. The small man was eyeing her with suspicion.
“They … they don’t seem to be in,” Julia faltered. “I didn’t see them go out, but perhaps—”
The man pushed past Julia. He opened the door without knocking and entered the room with one swift motion.
Julia peered over his shoulder. The room was empty. The bed neatly made. The two small suitcases missing.
“He’s—he’s gone. But how—?”
“Tricky little—” The man bit off the rest of his remark, perhaps remembering that a lady was present. Then he confronted Julia. “You really knew nothing of this?” he quizzed.
“No, I had no idea. They didn’t say—I mean, he said they would stay until—”
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to accept your word,” he interrupted, implying that he still doubted her.
“My word can be taken,” she said firmly. “God has set a standard. We are not to lie—even to protect someone—someone we have grown fond of. I tell you the truth, Mr.—Mr.—”
“Is there any place you know of where they might be?”
“No,” said Julia.
“No place where they liked to go?”
“No.”
“Is there any way out of this town?”
“Just the railroad.”
“When did the last train go through?”
“Why, it was the one you arrived on, I believe,” answered Julia.
The man looked surprised. Then he mumbled something Julia couldn’t understand. She guessed they were more words he didn’t want her to hear.
“Slipped out right under our noses,” he growled.
Julia turned to hide the relief in her eyes. Then she noticed something on the dresser. She crossed the room and picked it up. It was a letter addressed to her.
Dear Mrs. Harrigan,
You have been most kind to Margaret and me, and I am sorry we cannot stay as long as planned.
I have left the amount we owe you in the top drawer of this dresser. I have also left what I believe is an appropriate amount for the picture from the hallway.
Julia’s eyes widened, but she said nothing to the man standing behind her. She read on.
Margaret found it so restful. I could not deny her the privilege of ownership. I do hope you understand.
I have also left money for some provisions. We made a lunch for ourselves from your kitchen pantry, not wishing to bother any of the household.
Again, thank you for your kindness.
James W. Williams, Esq.
When Julia looked up she realized the man had been reading over her shoulder.
“So they stole—”
“They did not,” cut in Julia. “They paid for—for everything.”
The man turned and left the room without another word to Julia. The next time she heard him speak it was to his companion, who apparently had been stationed at the open door. “Let’s get going” he said, “before the trail gets cold.”
Julia shuddered.
Such a foolish way to talk. I think he’s been reading too many cheap who-done-its.
Julia knew she should bid her uninvited guests good-day, but she turned instead to the drawer mentioned in the letter and opened it slowly.
A neat pile of bills was tucked in one corner. Julia lifted them. Little slips of paper were bundled with the bills, held by small clips. The first one said, “Board and room, five days, two people.” Julia counted the money. The payment was exact. The next one said, “Lunch payment.” Julia counted again, finding that the amount was more than ample. “My! I wonder if he emptied the whole cupboard,” she exclaimed. The last bundle said, “Painting.” When Julia counted the money she determined that Mr. Williams had indeed been generous.
“The poor dears,” she cried. “The poor, poor dears.”
Julia heard stirring behind her and turned her head. Hettie stood there, her eyes filled with questions.
“Who were those men?” Hettie began. “I saw them leaving the house, waving their arms and turning the air blue with their talk. I was scared that—”
“They were from some asylum,” Julia explained.
“Asylum?” Hettie gasped.
Julia nodded.
“What did they want with you?” asked Hettie, still stunned.
“No—no. Not me. Them.” Julia waved a hand toward the vacant room.
“Them?” Hettie exclaimed, following Julia’s gaze. “Them? Why?”
“They—they escaped.”
“Escaped?”
Julia began to laugh helplessly. She waved the money at Hettie and picked up a corner of her apron to wipe her eyes.
Hettie looked at her, her face perplexed, her eyes filled with concern.
“Oh, Hettie. It’s really—it’s really quite funny. He outsmarted them. Again. That funny little man. Mr. Williams. He—he’s as sharp as—”
Hettie was still shaking her head, wondering if Julia herself needed an asylum.
Through spurts of laughter Julia told Hettie the story. “They came here to get Mr. Williams. He had been a visitor at the asylum where Mrs. Williams—no Miss Whistler—that was her real name—was a patient. They weren’t married at all. Well, Mr. Williams tried to get her discharged, but she never seemed to get well and so they kept her in the asylum. He loved her, and when they wouldn’t discharge her to his keeping—well—he just stole her away. They are really—how do you say it—on the lam—the run. And those two men thought they had caught up with them here—but when I came up to call Mr. Williams—he was already gone.”
Julia was laughing again, great tears rolling down her cheeks. Hettie couldn’t tell if her tears were from laughing or crying. Julia didn’t know either.
“It’s sort of sad,” Julia stopped to say. “Sad—and sweet. Imagine—the old gentleman loving her enough to risk everything. He left only a note—and the money.” Then Julia’s face brightened. “Well, I’m glad,” she said firmly. “I’m glad they got away. The men from the asylum implied that I knew all about this. That I helped them escape. Well, I didn’t. But I’m not sure I wouldn’t have—had I known.”
At the sound of Hettie’s gasp, Julia hastened to explain. “Well, why not? I mean, they are hurting no one. Why shouldn’t they be free to live their own lives? Wouldn’t it have been wonderful if we could have had the minister marry them? Just think! We could have given them a little reception!”
Hettie did not respond enthusiastically.
“Don’t you think—?”
“I think they are total strangers,” said Hettie slowly but firmly. “I think they were fugitives. We don’t know much at all about their circumstances—but—if she was in an asylum, then there must have been a need for her to be there. A reason.”
Julia sobered. Hettie was right. “Well, they seemed so—so blameless—so sweet,” Julia ventured.
Hettie nodded.
“They left the money,” Julia said again, showing Hettie the bundles. “He was very, very generous. He figured the cost of the rooms exactly. And he left money for the picture, the one from the hallway. The one she would sit and look at,” Julia explained. “He even left money for the food they took with them.”
“So that’s where it went,” Hettie said. “I went to get dinner and couldn’t find—”
“Did they take much? He certainly left adequate payment.”
“I haven’t checked closely. I just couldn’t find some things I was looking for. I couldn’t understand—and when I saw those two strange men I started to worry.”
Julia’s eyes darkened as she remembered the two men. She tucked the bills in her apron pocket.
“Well, as you say, perhaps she should be back at the asylum. Perhaps there is a reason for her being there. But—well, quite frankly, I’m glad they got away. I wish them the best—wherever they are, and I hope they are able to outsmart those two bloodhounds—forever.”
Julia closed the dresser drawer and wiped her hands across her apron.
“Now, perhaps we should check the pantry. We might need to do some shopping before dinner.”
Julia hung a small mirror in the hall where the painting had been. She missed the quiet scene, but she would not have taken it back from the woman who had found so much joy in it. “I do hope it brings you many hours of pleasure,” Julia whispered as she adjusted the mirror.
Julia went to the kitchen to help Hettie prepare tea for the committee meeting. Jennifer and Felicity were already there. Felicity was bent over a rolling pin, working on pie crust, and Jennifer was whipping the filling.
The scene startled Julia. The girls had matured so much over the past weeks that she could not get used to it. At the start of summer she had two children. As it drew to an end, she was the mother of two young ladies. Julia recalled her words to John. She had told him that helping with the household chores would be good for the girls. Now Julia wasn’t sure she wanted them to grow up so quickly.
“Hettie is letting us make dessert,” Felicity explained, and Julia understood that both girls considered it a privilege.
“I’m sure it will be delicious,” she responded.
“It’s one of Papa’s favorites,” said Jennifer. “Lemon.”
“And we are having fried parsnips and carrots,” continued Felicity, “with ham.”
“He’ll be pleased,” Julia responded.
“We want him to know that we are doing just fine,” Felicity went on. “Hettie says that—”
“Fel, you talk too much,” Jennifer cut in.
Julia wondered if Hettie shared the conviction. Her eyes were masked, her lips pursed.
“Well, we
are
doing fine,” Julia stated, trying to believe her own words. “The money that Mr. Williams paid us certainly helped. We’ll get by.”
“As soon as it snows, Tom is going hunting,” said Felicity.
“Hunting?” Julia had never known Tom to be a hunter.
“Hettie says moose or elk—or even deer—is just as good as beef if you know how to cook it.”
Julia made no comment, but she wondered if pantry stocks were lower than she had guessed.
“Papa and Tom are taking in some of the garden things,” Felicity added. “We don’t want an early frost to get any of it.”
Julia nodded. They could not afford to lose anything. She decided to change the subject. “We should learn today when school will begin. Are you excited?”
Jennifer showed some interest, but Felicity just shrugged. She was enjoying her time in the kitchen.
Julia turned to the trays on the kitchen table.
“I see you are ready with tea,” Julia said to Hettie.
“Just last-minute things to do. You go ahead with your meeting. The girls will bring it when you need it.”
Julia looked again at her two growing daughters. Then she went to the parlor to make sure the chairs were in proper place and to greet the ladies as they came.
“Do we have any reports?” Julia asked the committee members after everyone was settled.
“There hasn’t been much to report,” Mrs. Clancy answered after a brief silence.
“The last family bought a few items from the shop,” said Matilda Pendleton. “I have the money here.” She reached into her pocket and took out three envelopes.
“Mrs. Shannon, this is for one of your doilies. Mrs. Greenwald, they took one of your stuffed toys. And Mrs. Harrigan, they bought your linen tablecloth.”
Matilda distributed the envelopes. Julia felt guilty. Some of the committee members needed the funds much more than she did. They had had very little money come in over the summer. Julia wondered how they were managing to live.
“Perhaps we should put the craft sales money into a pot and divide it equally,” Julia suggested.
“No,” Mrs. Clancy objected, shaking her head. “That wouldn’t be fair. Some folks do more work—and some folks put more money into their projects—and some folks do nicer work.”
The others agreed.
Julia felt her cheeks flush. There seemed to be no way to help her neighbors. “Did everyone have a good garden?” Julia continued. “Some of us may have surplus if anyone is in need.”
The ladies seemed pleased with the produce from their gardens.
“Our men are planning to go hunting as soon as the snow falls,” Julia said. “Perhaps we can share wild meat—”
“Jim has been hunting already,” said Maude Shannon.
So had some of the other husbands, they learned.