MONDAY EVENING,
OCTOBER 2, 1871
- Trouble Brewing -
Justin helped himself to another pastry. What was keeping his sister and Poppy? All she was going to do was try on a dress. Claire will be the perfect parson’s wife, Justin thought. Once she’d seen how needy Poppy was, she’d just had to come to the rescue. Still, Poppy sure could use some decent clothes.
The front door opened and Charlie strode in. “I had a busy day at the shop,” he said as he put his hat and jacket on the hook by the door. “I’m plumb tuckered out.”
“Your father is so proud of you,” Mother said. “You’re a boon to the business.”
Oh, here we go again, Justin thought with a sullen frown. Charlie’s a boon to the business.
Mother took a coffeepot off the stove and peeked inside. “There’s another cup of coffee in here, Charlie. Why don’t you have it with one of Claire’s pastries? Supper won’t be ready until your father gets home.”
“Where is Father?” Justin asked, hoping Poppy would leave before his father arrived.
“He’s working on the books. He should be home soon.” Charlie sat at the table and helped himself to a pastry.
At that moment Claire and Poppy came into the kitchen. “Here she is in her new dress,” Claire said, gesturing to Poppy, who walked in slowly, looking at the floor. “Fits her perfectly!”
“Oh, you look charming, Poppy,” Mother said as she handed the cup of coffee to Charlie.
“Thank you,” Poppy said softly. “I ain’t never had a dress as nice as this.”
Charlie was about to take a bite of his pastry when he stopped, looking puzzled. “Is this the girl who was at the store today?”
“Yes,” Justin replied. “She’s the one.”
Charlie was silent for a moment, and then he shrugged and commenced eating.
“I wouldn’t have recognized you, either, had I met you downtown,” Justin said to Poppy. She was actually pretty with her coffee-colored hair pulled back with a ribbon, instead of hiding her face in unkempt strands.
“It’s getting late,” Claire noted. “Won’t your family be worried, Poppy?”
“No, ma’am,” Poppy said. “No one will miss me.”
“Where do you live?” Charlie asked.
Poppy looked down at her hands, which she was clasping and unclasping. “Up on Wells Street, near Clark.”
No one spoke. Everyone knew that section of town was where Conley’s Patch was located—a dangerous place to be, especially at night.
Mother began dishing chicken stew into a bowl. “Poppy, eat this soup now. And then head home full chisel. I think you can make it before dark.” She placed the soup, a spoon, and a large chunk of still-warm fresh bread in front of Poppy and made her sit down.
Claire tucked a napkin into the neck of Poppy’s dress. “Here you go, love. Eat up. I think you could use a good meal.”
Poppy glanced around, then began to eat, dipping the spoon and slurping the soup without a pause. When she finished, she looked up at Justin’s mother. “It’s right good, ma’am. The best soup I ever ate in my whole borned days.” She wiped her mouth with the napkin and then got up. “I’d better go.”
Claire handed Poppy a satchel. “Here are your other clothes, Poppy.”
Poppy took the bag and headed for the door. “Bye, Justin. I do like your goat.”
“I’ll walk some of the way with you,” Justin said, looking to his mother for permission.
“Just up to the next block,” Mother said, opening the front door. “And get back for supper.”
Justin and Poppy walked down the street together, not saying much. “I’ll go a little farther with you and then I have to go back,” he told her.
“You can go back now. I’ll be okay. No one’s goin’ to hurt me. I’m Ma Brennan’s girl, and she’d fix any varmint who laid a hand on me.”
“Well, that’s excellent,” Justin replied. “She takes good care of you, then.”
“But she’s not like your mother,” Poppy said. “Your mother talks nice, and I’ll bet she never clobbers you.”
“Of course not. Does Ma Brennan clobber you?”
“All the time.”
They crossed onto Wells Street and stopped. “Uh-oh. You’d better go home now,” said Poppy. “I see trouble ahead.” She gestured to two boys up the street who were looking their way. “That’s Four Fingers Foley and Patrick Cahill.”
Justin turned to go back. “I’m getting out of here before they see me.”
“Hey! Rotten!” yelled Patrick. “You just wait a second.” He started running toward Justin and Poppy, with Four Fingers close behind him.
Sure, they come after me when I’m alone with a girl, Justin thought. He was about to turn and run but then stopped. What would happen to Poppy if he left her? That would be a dishonorable thing to do, he thought.
“Scram, Justin!” Poppy yelled. “They’ll make mincemeat out of you.”
“I’m not leaving you with those guys, Poppy.”
“I don’t think they’ll hurt me. Run! Run, Justin.”
But Justin had hesitated too long. The two rowdies were already on him, cuffing and punching.
“Get off me! Leave me alone! Leave Poppy alone!” Justin fought back, kicking and swinging, while Poppy clouted the two boys with her satchel.
“Get away from him!” she yelled. “I’ll get Roger Plant’s kids after ya! You know who I mean. He owns the Willow, where I live!”
At the mention of Roger Plant, the two boys immediately stopped their attack on Justin. “Well, well, you’ve got a little girl to save ya,” said Fingers. “Ain’t you the brave one.”
“Next time we’ll get you when you’re alone,” Patrick promised.
“Why? What did I ever do to you?” Justin brushed off his suit and retrieved his cap. His eye was swollen and his belly hurt where Fingers had slugged him.
“What did I ever do to you?” mimicked Patrick in a whining voice. “You just are. That’s enough.”
“I’m telling Mr. Plant on you. He’ll fix you good,” Poppy yelled, giving Fingers a final swat with her satchel. “Now get out of here.”
The two boys skulked away. “We’ll be watchin’ for you,” said Fingers. “And you, too, Poppy.”
“My knees are knockin’, I’m so a-scared,” Poppy taunted.
The boys disappeared into the shadows of an alley.
“Go on home, Justin. I’ll be all right.”
“Looks like you will,” Justin agreed. “You settled their hash just fine. That name you flung around scared ’em off good.”
“I live here, and I know the ropes,” Poppy said. “Mr. Plant is the big boss of Conley’s Patch.”
“I feel sorry for you, living around people like that,” Justin said.
“Nah, don’t feel sorry for me,” Poppy said. “I can take care of myself.”
She nodded to him and headed down the wooden planks that made up the sidewalk.