The Girl in the Torch (19 page)

“Y
OU LOOK NICE,
”
SHE SAID
.

“You've just never seen me in a clean uniform before.”

His eyes misted over, and he quickly handed her a brown paper bag. “This is for you.”

She looked inside the bag to discover the chess set.

“Thank you,” she said.

“And there's something else for you inside,” he said.

She looked at him quizzically as she opened the chess set to discover an envelope. She flipped it open and found it filled with a large wad of bills that must have been his life's savings. She gasped in surprise.

“Make sure you keep it somewhere safe, so no one can get at it. Stuff it under your clothes or something.”

She closed the chess set and handed the envelope back to him.

“I can't take this.”

“Go on,” he said, pushing the envelope back to her. “I'd just spend it on whiskey anyway.”

“No. I can't. . . .”

“I want you to have it. And you already gave me something.”

“I gave something to you?”

He looked her in the eye. “You gave me something to care about.”

Sarah glanced down as she felt her face flush and her eyes fill with tears.

“Take it,” he said.

Finally she accepted the envelope and tucked it back inside the chess set, which she placed in the bag with Miss Jean's clothes.

“I've got one other thing for you. But don't let anyone see this either.”

He glanced around to make sure none of the police officers were watching. Then he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and furtively handed her a small envelope.

“Put it in your pocket,” he said.

She did as instructed.

“What is it?”

“A train ticket,” he said. “To Oklahoma City.”

“I don't understand,” she said.

“I've got cousins there, remember? They don't have much. But they'd welcome you like family. I wrote all their contact information on a piece of paper in there. I already wired them that you might be coming. So they'd be expecting you.”

He stared at her.

“You understand what I'm saying?” he said.

“How?” she asked, nervous excitement building inside her.

“Smitty's waiting with a wagon about a block from here, up to the left. He'd get you to the station and make sure you got on the train.”

She glanced around at the police milling nearby.

“But how . . . ?”

“We've worked it all out,” Maryk said. “A diversion.”

He turned toward Mrs. Lee and Miss Jean, who nodded.

“Won't you get in trouble?”

“I don't see how,” he said. “You'll just be gone. No one knows I've got Indian cousins anywhere. They'd never find you.”

“What if we . . . what if I get caught? Won't they come after me?” She nodded toward the policemen.

“If you get caught, they'll just put you on another boat back to your country. Right? But I don't think that'll happen, because they won't be chasing you too hard. You didn't rob a bank or murder anybody. New York City police have got enough to keep them busy without chasing one girl. Just keep that red hair of yours hidden under that cap and no one'll pay you no mind.”

A blast of the boat's horn jarred Sarah.

“All aboard!” one of the crew called.

The other passengers began to move toward the ferry.

“I understand if you don't want to chance it,” Maryk said. “You can get on that boat and go. But if you do want to do this, just nod your head and we'll make sure you get on that train.”

She stared at him for a long moment, glanced over at Mrs. Lee,
Tommy, and Miss Jean, who were all watching her expectantly. Finally Sarah turned back to Maryk and nodded.

“All right then,” he said.

“Will I ever see you again?” she asked.

“Probably not,” he said, shaking his head. “Be a mistake for you to ever come back to New York.”

They stood before each other for a long moment, until she finally approached and hugged him tightly. At first he was stiff, unsure how to react. She realized it might have been years, maybe decades, since anyone had hugged Maryk. But then he wrapped his enormous arms around her and returned the embrace. His body felt warm and soft, and she rested her head against his chest as he gently patted her hair.

She didn't want to let go.

“You're going to be all right, Androcles,” he whispered into her ear.

She looked up at him. “You remember what happened at the end of that story?”

He nodded. “Androcles and the lion are both set free.”

“And they go back to their homeland,” she said. “Together.”

He smiled sadly.

“Yeah. I know. But that's just a story.”

“Why can't you come with me?”

“The two of us traveling together would stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, I'm much too slow and old to make that kind of trip,” he said with a sad shake of his head. “My place is here now.”

Another sharp blast of the boat's horn interrupted them.

“Everyone aboard!” one of the officials shouted.

The crowd noise swelled as the passengers organized themselves into a line near the gangplank. Sarah felt a tremor move through her body and her legs turn to liquid.

One of the policemen approached Sarah. “All right, miss, get with the others. Time to go.”

He pushed her into the line. A man collected tickets as the other passengers started up the ramp to the ship. The police officer stood with Sarah to make sure she got on board. The line moved quickly and soon there were just a few people standing between Sarah and the gangplank.

When there was just one person in front of her, Sarah glanced back at Maryk with panic in her eyes. He gave her a nod of encouragement. Then he looked at Mrs. Lee, who subtly nodded back at him.

Suddenly, Mrs. Lee screamed and grabbed her chest.

“Ahhhh,” she wailed. “My heart.”

Mrs. Lee fell to the ground, with Maryk breaking her fall.

Sarah moved to assist her but then realized that it was all part of the plan.

“Help!” Mrs. Lee shouted.

The police raced to Mrs. Lee as she lay on the ground moaning in fake agony and murmuring in Chinese.

“This lady needs a doctor!” Tommy shouted.

“Clear a path!”

“She's having a heart attack!”

“Give her room!”

As the crowd turned toward Mrs. Lee, Miss Jean grabbed Sarah by the elbow and pulled her away from the dock.

“Don't look back,” Miss Jean said. “Just act naturally. Like we're normal folks taking a walk.”

Sarah felt the adrenaline rushing in her chest as they walked away. She carried the suitcase in one hand and nervously gripped the train ticket in her pocket with the other, squeezing the envelope until her knuckles turned white. She and Miss Jean wove through the crowd.

Sarah wanted to look back and see her friends one more time, but she knew she couldn't risk it. So she just walked on. Her pace quickened to keep up with Miss Jean's. The noise of the crowd began to recede, and the boat's horn blasted again.

M
ISS
J
EAN LED
S
ARAH THROUGH
the crowd to the main street and turned left. In the distance, Smitty's wagon came into view.

“There he is,” Miss Jean said.

Smitty sat holding the reins of a one-horse dray, ready to go. As they approached, the ship's horn sounded again. The horse bucked and whinnied loudly.

“Whoa, boy,” Smitty said.

But the horse reared up on its hind legs and cried out again. Sarah and Miss Jean both recoiled and took a step back. Smitty tried to calm the animal, but it wouldn't settle down.

“Calm that beast,” Miss Jean said.

“I'm trying!” he said.

Fear gripped Sarah for a moment, but then she remembered what Maryk had taught her.

“Do you have a carrot or anything to eat?” she called to Smitty.

“I've got an apple.”

“Throw it to me,” she said.

Smitty reached into his pocket and tossed Sarah an apple.

The horse eyed Sarah warily as she approached from the left with the apple in her palm.

“It's okay,” she said.

She looked into the horse's eyes and placed a hand on his neck and shoulder.

“Good boy,” she said.

She carefully extended her hand. The horse snatched the apple from her palm and chewed it with his big yellow teeth.

Sarah rubbed his neck and exhaled a breath into his nostrils. The horse calmed under her touch.

“Come on, girl,” Smitty said. “Gotta get a move on.”

Smitty offered Sarah his hand, and he hauled her up to the seat beside him.

“Good luck, child,” Miss Jean said. “And God bless you.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said.

“C'mon, boy,” Smitty called to the horse. “Giddyup.”

Smitty snapped the reins, and the horse moved off away from the pier.

In that moment, Sarah didn't doubt that she had to seize this chance. She didn't fear getting caught. And she certainly wasn't sorry that she would not be going back to her homeland. She just wished that she had told Maryk she loved him when she had the chance.

F
OR THREE DAYS
, S
ARAH SAT
in a window seat and watched the scenery spin by in a mad blur. Past cities, forests, rivers, farmland, hills, plains, and dozens and dozens of towns—she could barely keep track of all the different sights that danced beside the railroad tracks on her journey west. She enjoyed the constant rumble of the train and the aching whistle of the locomotive as it blew through station after station.

Sarah barely allowed herself to sleep, not wanting to miss anything. The vastness of the country shocked and excited her, and she swore to herself that she would remember it all. She carefully parceled out the food Mrs. Lee had prepared for her, eating a small portion of rice and vegetables each day to make it last until she reached Oklahoma.

Every so often she'd take out her father's tailoring scissors, which she still carried in the inner pocket of her coat. She held them up to the window and let the sun glint off the shiny blades. Something about holding the scissors gave her a sense of hope about the future.

She put the scissors back in her pocket and thought of her parents. If only they could see her now. She felt so different from the little girl who had left their village. Sarah wondered if they would have made the same choice to escape. Somehow she doubted it, and that thought made her feel an unexpected sense of pride and independence.

She also thought about Maryk and all he had sacrificed for her. She was determined to make him proud.

A train conductor appeared at the head of the car and removed a large silver watch attached to a chain from the pocket of his vest.

“All right, folks, forty minutes to Oklahoma City,” he called out. “Oklahoma City will be our next stop.”

Sarah leaned back in her seat and felt her heart beat in time with the rhythm of the train. She gazed out the window and with each mile felt hope and anticipation for what her new life might bring.

T
HE BOY STOMPED UP
the stairs, ahead of his mother and father, delighting in the clanging echo his footsteps made in the statue's interior. When he reached the landing, he scrambled up the ladder and burst out into the blinding daylight on the platform of the torch.

“Whoa!” The boy gasped. His seven-year-old eyes had never seen anything so magnificent. Gulls squawked in the brilliant blue sky overhead as the boy climbed up on the railing and looked around at the steamships and sailboats moving in and out of the harbor. His red hair shone in the sunlight.

His mother and father finally emerged onto the platform.

“Get away from the edge!” Sarah called.

The boy hesitated.

“You heard me, Maryk,” she said. “Get down from there!”

“Listen to your mother,” the man said, pulling his son back down to the platform.

The three of them looked out at the view together without
speaking for a few moments. The little boy removed a small toy lion from the pocket of his jacket and placed it on the railing so it could look out at the view, just as his mother had years before. The boy finally broke the silence.

“Did you really live here?”

“Right down there,” Sarah said, turning and pointing to the crown, nodding her head.

“And the man that I'm named for. He lived here too?”

“No. He worked here.”

“How come he never came to visit you?”

“I think he wanted to. But as he got older, it got harder and harder for him to travel. I finally convinced him to come out right around the time your father and I got married. I'd asked him to walk me down the aisle. He bought a train ticket and everything. But then . . .” Sarah's voice got caught in her throat.

Her husband took her hand.

“But then he got sick and just couldn't make the journey,” she said. “A little while later his heart gave out. Maybe it was just too big.”

Sarah's eyes misted over as she looked back out into the harbor. “But before I ever met him, he'd come up here every night and look out to sea just like we're doing now.”

“At night? But he couldn't really see much, could he?”

“No,” Sarah said. “Not really.”

“Then what was he looking for?”

Sarah took a deep breath, and a small smile curled her lips.

“Sometimes I think he must have been looking for me.”

T
HIS IS A WORK OF FICTION
. In fact, the first draft of this novel was written without any reference to Sarah's country of origin or religion, as I wanted the story to feel as universal as possible. However, I later decided to base in her in a reality similar to my own family history to make the story more realistic and grounded in true history.

Although I tried to create an authentic feeling of the time and place of turn-of-the-century New York, there were some instances in which I knowingly diverged from historical fact for dramatic effect. For instance, an immigrant child like Sarah who was orphaned on Ellis Island would not have been sent back to her home country, but rather returned to the port of origin of the ship that brought her. If that had happened, Sarah's fate might have been even worse than if she had been returned to her uncle. And there were Jewish-American agencies that often aided immigrant children in distress.

As Miss Jean notes to Sarah, women in Chinatown were extremely
rare. After the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, Chinese immigrants were not allowed to become citizens; and before then, only men were granted access to the United States to work. The few Chinese women who did inhabit the neighborhood were typically the spouses or children of merchants, although there were also young Chinese women being illegally exploited or enslaved in some way.

The geography and population of what is now known as Liberty Island varied greatly over the years, but it was likely never left only in the care of a single night watchman.