Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The dark hall glows as a candle draws nearer and, from the shadows, someone enters our little room to wake us.

“Josephine and Elijah, hurry now. Your mother’s fading.”

I’ve been expecting those words all night. The anticipation has interfered with any sleep and by how my brother jumps up I guess he hasn’t been sleeping either. We both instinctively hang nearer to each other as we walk into the adjoining room where the doctor sits in a corner, nodding to us. We walk to our mother’s side and hear her shallow breaths. She opens her eyes slightly and gives our hands a weak squeeze. She swallows slowly, as if about to speak, but perhaps it’s too hard to and she closes her eyes again. We both lay our heads on her body, trying to get one last childhood hug, until our neighbor escorts us back out of the room.

Elijah and I look at each other, realizing that was our last moment with her. We grab onto each other and cry until our eyes are swollen and throats dry. We fall asleep clinging to each other. In the morning a few neighbors have gathered around my mother’s sheet-covered body and are discussing far too loudly the things that have been circling in my head.

“Who’s going to bury the poor dear?” a whiny-voiced woman asks.

“Michael’s getting ready to see the priest about it. What worries me more is who is going to take in two nearly grown children?”

Their tsks can be heard from our room.

“Was her death sudden? Is that why family isn’t here to see to everything?”

“All I know is that she started getting sick a few months ago, when she began working at the factory.”

“That’s why I stay out of those factories, no matter how much better they pay than washing. It’s a death sentence in one way or another.”

“Well, it got her alright. The girl came knocking on my door three days ago saying she’d collapsed and we sent Michael for the doctor.”

“With no one else to turn to, how could you turn her away?”

“Before that we didn’t even know their names. They always kept to themselves.”

I couldn’t help but feel the burden we suddenly were on these people. Strangers.

A door opens and shuts and a stern man’s voice cuts through the air. “We have to use what she left to pay the good doctor and anything after that’s got to go to burying her.”

“But what will the children do? There won’t be a red cent to start ‘em off.”

“Maggie, they’ll get their next month’s check in three weeks’ time, ‘til then they’ll have to stay with family is all,” he says.

“They have no family to speak of. The girl informed me that they had no ties in the city.”

“No ties? What was she thinkin’ comin’ to the city alone with no husband, no family?”

How could he say this with Ma’s body lying right there?

“I don’t even think we have the money to send them to family. As it is, I think we’ll be only affordin’ a pine box and civil burial,” Maggie says.

The other woman chimes in. “They’ll end up on the streets for sure.”

“None of us has the room for two grown children. At fourteen the girl is close to marrying age. Maybe we could find a nice man for her?” he says, his voice rising to a hopeful pitch.

Maggie quickly snaps back, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Michael, you can’t just pick a man out of crowd for the poor girl! Besides, the only men left around here now are boys or old men.”

“Well, ‘tis better than the streets, Maggie. I’ll go talk to Father Francis about this. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

The door opens and the other woman says, “I best be getting back to my washing.”

He asks, “Ye staying here then?”

“Somebody’s got to help the poor souls and wake the body, God bless her.”

“You’re a good woman, Maggie.”

After a shuffling of feet, the door closes. Elijah and I just sit there on the bed. We’re frozen, unable to move on past last night. Unwilling to totally absorb what happened, is happening.

Elijah breaks the silence after a long quiet and we speak in whispers so Maggie won’t ask us to come out and sit with Ma. “Our wages won’t be enough to even pay rent.”

The factory gives meager children’s wages to those under eighteen. I doubt we even still held positions there, now that we hadn’t shown up for a couple of days. Just as well, since it was full of every kind of misery.

“What are our options?”

It’s some time before he whispers again. “Well, I know they’re rounding up volunteers daily. I could join.”

“You can’t pass for eighteen yet. You’re only just getting a mustache.” I point to the fuzz that looks more like a smudge of dirt.

His hands fly up self-consciously to his upper lip. “I’ve heard they don’t much care about that anymore. A guy I know says all you have to do is tell them you’re eighteen and they’ll take you if you’re able.” After speaking, he lifts his chin high.

“Eighteen! They’ll laugh you all the way back home.”

But panic shoots through me as I realize he does look older than the boys he runs around with. He’s surely the tallest in his group.

“If you went, then what will happen to me?”

He looks into my eyes and then back to his hands. “Maybe you could stay at the church for a month, until you get Pa’s earnings, and I’ll send back money as soon as I can.”

“First we lost Pa, then we left the farm, now Ma’s gone and then I’m supposed to say goodbye to you too?” I shake the whole idea away.

“We have no other option, Josie. We don’t have a penny to our name. No one here will help us. No one back home will care. We don’t have any other choice. After we bury Ma, I’ll get you settled somewhere and then I’m going to sign up.”

I chew on my lower lip and stare out the small window. The only view is a wall of bricks of a building too close to ours. The stale city air hangs in the room between us, bringing no hope of anything better.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

“Josie!” Elijah playfully calls. Elijah appears in the center of a field with a fast fog whispering around him. Between the wisps he smiles at me and says again, “Josie!” The fog rolls in, as grey clouds gather above him. I call out to him in warning, “Elijah!” but a bolt of lightning splits out of the sky and strikes him. I jump with a deafening shriek and run to him, but the field just keeps getting farther and farther away.

I wake up screaming. Elijah grabs me and tries to shush me back to sleep in his arms.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

In the morning, we shake out our best clothes—the ones without patches—and follow the men Michael volunteered to carry Ma’s pine box down to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. There is something beautiful about the procession walking behind Ma that way. We never got the chance to bury Pa. I can’t even let my mind delve into any of the reality of what we’re doing. I just put one foot in front of the other. I can’t bear thinking about how utterly alone I will be at the end of the day. Right now, I’m with Ma and Elijah is still beside me. I don’t want to let this moment end. The inside of the Cathedral is more beautiful than I could have imagined and nothing like our small parish church back in Cortland. The rather plain exterior gave no indication of the glory hidden inside. We gather around her coffin before the enormous marble altar. We’re all bathed in the glow reflecting off the glistening religious statues overlooking her service from niches in the ornately gold-leafed wall behind the altar. The bells ring as we leave the church. The sound that no one wants to hear. A haunting, unwelcomed sound. A victory celebration of claiming another soul.

We stand in the cramped northeast corner of the walled cemetery, where the Father says a few more prayers and makes a gesture for the dirt to be shoveled in. Another wave of panic comes over me as the dirt starts to cover her and I have to turn away to pretend it’s not happening. Elijah takes me by the arm and brings me over to the priest to thank him.

The priest nods. “I am sorry for your troubles, children. How can we help you at this time?”

Elijah replies, “I’m going to join up tomorrow, but I need to make sure my sister is taken care of while I’m gone.”

“Of course, my children. Michael O’Sullivan already spoke to me and I know Josephine only needs assistance for a month or two. We have found a devout parishioner who is kind enough to take her in.”

He gestures to an older man waiting in the shadows of the cemetery gates.

The priest motions him to come forward and continues. “Children, this is Freddie McCarthy and he has been so generous as to take dear Josephine in. We were going to have to place you in separate homes anyway so it’s good news you are signing up. Mr. McCarthy here is a widower with no children of his own and would welcome some feminine help.”

While the priest talks, Elijah watches as the man clearly researches my shape and looks pleased with himself after his scan is complete.

Elijah’s eyes narrow and he turns to the priest to say, “Well, thank you very much, Father. We are going to have one more night in our apartment and then we’ll tell you what we have decided tomorrow.”

Freddie’s hunched shoulders quickly droop. He removes his hat to smooth down his greasy hair. “Father, I thought the girl was coming home with me tonight. I got a cot all set up for her and everythin’.”

I smile in relief now, because I know Elijah is not going to leave me with a man like this.

Elijah pulls me away. “We’ll speak to you tomorrow. Thanks for everything.”

When we get back into our apartment, Elijah starts pacing the floors with his thumb pushed between the slight space in his teeth—a habit he has whenever he is deep in thought. I stare at my reflection in the window, trying to come up with something. I start to pull my hair up high on my head and turn my face from side to side.

I jump up quickly and scream, “I’ve got it!” Then I dash into the other room, which used to be Elijah’s until Ma got sick and we had to share a bed. I push the quilts stacked up on Pa’s trunk off and throw the trunk open.

He comes to see what I’m up to. “Stay there. I’m changing.”

“What has gotten into you?” He retreats.

I put my hair up under Pa’s old cap, throw on Elijah’s pants, button up one of his shirts and run back to him. He bursts out laughing.

“Don’t laugh! I look just like a boy.”

He calms down and tries to be serious, but he can’t hold it and starts to roll with laughter again. I throw something at him and jump on him. It’s always a pretty fair fight, since he’s only eleven months older; Irish twins. He’s starting to get stronger than me, but I can still get out of any hold he tries to pin me in.

After I give him a few punches on the arm, I roll off and look him in the eyes.

“I’m not a prissy girl. You know that. I’m as tall as any boy my age and I could probably arm wrestle them all and win. I can ride bareback faster than you in a saddle and I can shoot just as many cans from the fence as you too.”

“Yeah, but there’s no girls in the army. They don’t let them in, not even to care for the wounded.”

“I heard someone talking in the factory the other day about a woman who was in disguise fighting alongside men. No one knew until she was shot in the arm and the doctors found out. They said she fought just as good as the men and no one was the wiser.”

He crosses his arms. “Even if that is true, how do you think you’ll get past the examination they do? Don’t you think they will figure it out then?”

“Easy. Someone said they barely check anything anymore. They said they take every Mick that gets off the boat standing.”

“And you really think you can keep everyone fooled with sharing latrines and tents?” he asks with one eyebrow arched.

“Well…maybe we can share a tent and I’ll just be real careful. I only have to hold out until I collect the next check and then I can afford a small place with my wages from another factory.”

He looks as if he might be considering it. “Get up and walk around.”

I get up as masculine as I can, with my shoulders dropped and hunched, and my stride longer, hips straight, just like I’ve seen Elijah walk a million times. I don’t smile and let my mouth drop down more to make my face appear longer.

Elijah smiles. “I didn’t realize how manly you were before. You might look more boy than me.”

I throw another pillow at his head. Laughing, eyes sparkling, he pulls it off, then comes at me with the crazy look he gives, as if he’s going to beat the sin out of me. He takes the pillow and starts whipping me back and forth with it until I fall, hunched over, laughing. We then slide to the floor beside each other, catching our breath.

I think about the reality of this. I don’t have much of a bosom yet, so I don’t even have to worry about that. I’m very strong. My legs are thick, my muscles tight. My hair is long and beautiful, but I can cut it all off. My face looks equally as feminine as masculine, which used to bother me but now seems like a gift from God.

“If they don’t do an extensive examination and we pick a recruitment that’s just going through a load of whatever-is-fresh-off-the-boat, we could have a chance of you passing as a boy. I’m trying to lie enough as it is to pass for an eighteen-year-old, but you’re going to have to sign on as a fife or drummer boy. They can be younger.”

My Pa had taught me how to play a fife. The Union was always in need of boys to lead them into battle. “Yes, I could be a fifer. I wouldn’t even have to fight.”

“Alright, alright, but promise me, as soon as fighting begins—if you’re not found out by then—you’ll tell them and get out. Fifers still get shot you know. Why do you think the Union’s always looking for them?” He scoffs. “The last thing I need is a little sister to look out for when I’m getting my head shot at by Rebs.” He suddenly acts like he’s years older than me.

“I promise.” And I honestly think I can keep that promise.

He brings his hand up and joins it with my thumb and finger to make two joined circles. “Nothing can separate us.”

“Forever.”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

That night I cut my hair short. I model it after Elijah’s cut and, when I’m done, I look like his smaller twin. I put on an undershirt, buttoned shirt, oversized pants with suspenders and an old pair of Elijah’s boots.

Elijah takes one look at me. “You better hope this works out because no one’s going to marry you now.”

I give him a punch in the arm but realize what he says is true.