Bread and Roses, Too - Page 32

Jake planned his next moves while still aboard the train. As soon as he got off, he'd disappear into the crowd. Somewhere, somehow, he'd be able to get enough money to buy a ticket to New York City, or Boston at least. He couldn't stay in this dump town, that was certain. Even if they didn't catch on, even if they thought he belonged, he couldn't stay. Someone was sure to find pa's body. Someone was sure to know about him. Even if the police didn't pick him up for murder—his heart almost stopped beating at the thought—even if the police didn't accuse him, they'd know, wouldn't they, that he was at fault. They'd send him to some orphanage—which, he knew, would be worse than prison.

With luck, the weather would stay cold a good while longer. But when spring came, as it always did, a passerby would be sure to smell the corpse. Jake had smelled plenty of rotting animals; he knew the stench. Or maybe some stray dogs would break into the shack.... He nearly vomited at the thought. Oh, God, what was he to do? But first things first. Shake the girl, slip through the mob at the station, and find someplace in this one-horse town to hide until he could make a plan for escape.

They were almost the last of the children off the train, but as soon as he stood on the steps, before he put his first foot on the station platform, he knew he wouldn't try to run that night. The freezing air that hit his face was like none he'd ever felt. Where in the hell was Vermont? At the North pole? Besides, the girl was holding on to his arm for dear life.

The crowd was not nearly the size of the crowd that had greeted Big Bill and beautiful Mrs. Gurley Flynn, but it looked as though it must be most of the town. There were signs, just as though the people were marchers, but the signs were held up and waved by smiling, warmly dressed people, many of whom sported bright red ribbons. Of course, he couldn't read the signs.

"That one says, BENVENUTI." The shoe girl was reading his mind. "Just like the one over there in English, see?" She had let go of his arm and was pointing out the signs in Italian, pretending it was only those that he couldn't read. "They all say, WELCOME or WELCOME, LAWRENCE CHILDREN. Just like the ones in English."

The crowd was being urged back so the children could pass through it directly and into the autos, trucks, and livery wagons that were backed up to the platform.

The girl stiffened and hesitated at the side of the auto they were being ushered toward, but Jake grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the running board and into the back seat. The engine was loud and the fumes smelly, but at least they'd be going in style—wherever they might be headed. It would only be for one night, he promised himself. As soon as he could beg or steal money for a train ticket, he'd b

e gone ... if they didn't catch him first.

The driver turned toward the back seat and smiled warmly. "Buona sera!" he said.

Cor! Was Italian going to be the language in this town? How in the world would he manage? Even to skip town you had to be able to speak to somebody.

"We welcome you to Barre. We are expecting you so many days."

Whew! The man could speak English, which gave Jake some hope for the rest of the town.

"By the door, there, is a blanket if you're cold."

"Grazie," the girl murmured.

Oh, hell. Was she going to go into Italian or was she just showing off? No, she was shivering too hard for that. He took the blanket from the corner of the seat and tucked it around them right up to their chins. The driver smiled and nodded.

"First we have a little welcome parade," he said. "Then we go to Labor Hall for a beeeg feast. You like that?"

"Si," the girl said.

He wished she'd shut up with the Italian. What was she trying to prove? He was thinking up what to say when the doors opposite them opened, and two other children were crowded in beside them on the back seat while another climbed in beside the driver up front.

"Andiamo! Let's go," the driver said, and did something that made the motor cough and the auto jerk forward. The girl gave a little muffled cry.

"It's a motorcar!" The child sitting on the other side of Rosa was exultant.

"Yeah?" Jake muttered. "You ain't never seen one?"

"I never rided in one!" the little boy said.

Neither had Jake, but, cor, the kid's wide-eyed wonder was worse than the shoe girl's terror. It made them all sound like they were just out of steerage. Like they were more backward than the dumb wops in this one-horse town. Oh, Christmas. It hit him. For the rest of the time that he was stuck here, he would be one of those wops just off the boat. Sal—Sal ... hell's bells, he couldn't even say his own stupid name.

The little kid who'd yelled about the motorcar now stood up, pushed his way past Rosa, and was leaning across Jake's knees to stick his head out the opening above the door. "It's a real parade," he said. "We're in a real parade!"

"That's right, son. Everybody in town come to see you and say, 'Hello! Welcome to Barre in Vermont.'"

"To see us?" His voice was so shrill, it pierced Jake's skull like a mill whistle.

"Just you, nobody else."

They were bumping along on what must be the main street, if a town this size had such a thing. Anyhow, there were stores on either side and people lined up in front of them, waving Italian and American flags and yelling and clapping as they went by. There were bands playing as well. Jake didn't know the tunes, but the music was not too bad, and as it got louder, nobody tried to talk, which was a relief.

They followed the livery in front of them around a tiny common, which was nearly surrounded by churches. There were people standing in the snow even on the common, waving signs and yelling. Then their little parade headed back down the street the same way it had come.

"Ouch! Would you get off my foot?" The kid was not only standing on Jake's foot, he was jumping up and down on it in his excitement, but the boy either didn't hear Jake or just chose to ignore him. Jake picked him up and plopped him down on the seat next to Rosa. "He was killing me," he explained, but Rosa didn't indicate that she had heard. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes wide with fright. "I didn't hurt him. See? He's all right." The little boy had jumped right up and now was crowding the little girl who was standing at the opening on the other side.

Tags: Katherine Paterson Historical
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