WEDNESDAY NIGHT,
OCTOBER 4, 1871
- False Accusations -
Poppy spent the rest of the day down by the ships, watching the powerful waves that swept up against the shore. It was pleasant down here on the shoreline of Lake Michigan, where the smell of smoke was blown away by the strong breeze. All day the fire engines rushed around the city and the ringing of their bells carried over the wind. Spirals of smoke from brush fires looked like witches’ fingers poking the sky.
The Highland steamer was tied with huge ropes up to a wharf near Poppy. It was such a big boat that it hardly moved against the wind and surf.
If I could hide away on that ship, I would. Then I wouldn’t have to have that stinkin’ key made for Ma. But if I don’t show up with the key, they’ll go after Ticktock.
Poppy could only imagine how sad Justin would be. He loved that little goat and was so excited when he’d brought her to the store to show Poppy. He’d even built that neat goat barn for her. It hurt Poppy to think how Justin might feel. She’d feel the same way, because she loved Ticktock, too.
I guess that’s what happens when you love someone, she reflected. You’d do anything to protect them. And then you always get hurt. I can’t think of anyone who’d protect me or even care if something bad happened. Maybe Justin would … Claire would, I think.
What shall I do? If I tell Claire what’s happened and how Mr. Plant and Ma are planning to rob the store, maybe she’d know what to do. But if the police came and caught Ma or Mr. Plant’s safecrackers, everyone back at the Willow would know I told … and they’d come after me.
Poppy stood up and headed away from the waterfront. She’d go see Claire and ask her what she’d do if someone she loved was in danger.
The sun was setting. By the time she’d get to Justin’s house, it would be dark. She’d sneak into the goat house. Claire would surely suspect she was there and go out to see her. Hadn’t she said she had an idea for a place where Poppy could stay? Poppy walked faster. Up the streets and away from the water, the smell of smoke was strong. The wind blew circles of dried leaves around her feet.
She reached the Butterworths’ house and went directly to the goat’s paddock. She was about to open the gate when the kitchen door opened. She could see Charlie silhouetted against the light. “The cool air will feel good,” he said to someone inside.
Poppy could see the family seated around the large oak table. She longed to be with them. Yet Mr. Butterworth had made it clear she wasn’t welcome. But why? She had never stolen anything from them. Well, of course, she had made an impression of the key to the shop—but that was before she got to know the family. And no one knew she had done that.
I wonder what they’re talking about. Maybe Mr. Butterworth has changed his mind about me.
She slipped closer to the house, crouched behind a bush, and strained to hear the voices inside. They were talking about Pastor Belmont and the church. It was hard to hear over the wind. But then she heard Mr. Butterworth yell her name loudly.
“It’s that girl, Poppy!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t the boys tell you how she stole a valuable watch chain from the store?”
Poppy gasped. I never stole anything from the store! What are they talking about? Instinctively she felt like running in and defending herself, but she didn’t want them to know she was sneaking around, listening from the bushes. Perhaps she had heard wrong. She climbed under the rail and crept onto the porch—closer to the open door.
“Next thing you’ll be inviting Poppy to live with us!” Mr. Butterworth was saying. “She’d steal everything we have right from under our noses.”
Claire was speaking now, but it was hard to hear. “I … believe she stole … chain.”
Oh, no, you can’t believe it, Claire. I would never take anything from you or your family.
How could they say such things? The one time in Poppy’s life that she cared about doing the right thing … and they think she stole something. A lump gathered in her throat.
Mr. Butterworth was yelling again. “I do not want her in this house again. That’s an order. Do you all understand?”
There was some murmurs, but when she heard Claire say, “Yes, Father,” Poppy felt a stab in her heart.
She forgot about the sounds of her own footsteps as she ran off the porch, but she didn’t care if they knew she’d been listening.
“That’s what I get for believing I could be part of a real family!” she muttered, trying hard not to let the tears come. “I musta been crazy! Well, I’m going to give Ma the key so they won’t hurt Ticktock. Then I’m stowing away on the Highland. I never wants to see any of them Butterworths again. Never!”