The Forgotten Home Child by Genevieve Graham

Author:Genevieve Graham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2020-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Hours later he got off the train and followed the signs to the sawmill. At the door to the office, he took a breath for courage, combed his hair back with his fingers, then entered. The man at the desk was leaning over a stack of paperwork, a cigar smoking in one hand, but he looked up when Jack walked in.

“You looking for work?” he asked, studying Jack.

Jack nodded.

The big man’s cheeks sucked in as he inhaled the cigar, and smoke puffed back out. “You ever done this kinda work before?”

“No, sir. But I’m a fast learner.”

At Jack’s response, the man’s eyes hardened. “Don’t you read?”

Jack glanced around, wondering what he’d missed. “I do. Why?”

The man emerged from behind the desk with surprising speed and jabbed his cigar toward the door. “Take a good look at the sign out there. We got barely enough jobs for our own men. We don’t give work to foreign bums. Now get outta here.” He took a step towards Jack. “Now.”

Jack staggered outside, confused, then he saw it: a large white sign with bold black lettering that said “No Englanders.”

Anger flared in his chest and he looked over at the man, who had followed him out. “I have as much right to be here as anyone else,” he said.

“Get back on a boat, limey. Go back where you belong.”

A few men were gathering, watching the scene unfold, and their hostile expressions were unmistakable. Jack was more than ready for a fight, but he figured it’d be wise to stick to just one opponent at a time. Swallowing his pride, he turned and headed back toward the main street of Goderich.

Maybe this had all been a big mistake. Right now he could be with Edward and Cecil, living in a place where he was wanted. Where he didn’t have insults shoved down his throat. But there was no point in thinking about that. He couldn’t go back. Not now. So he followed the first railway track he saw and hoped the next town over would be more welcoming.

But it wasn’t. When he inquired about the HELP WANTED sign in a shop window, the shopkeeper eyed him suspiciously and said, “We’re not hiring anyone who sounds like you.”

With no other options, he headed back out along the railway tracks, and with every step his mood plummeted further. When a train rumbled behind him, making the earth vibrate beneath his feet, he wondered, for a split second, what it would be like to just stand there and let it hit him. He’d hold his arms out and close his eyes, and all his troubles would be over in an instant. But then he remembered Mary, and he stepped off the tracks. He’d come too far to give up now.

As the big black engine surged past, he spotted a number of shabbily dressed men sitting inside one of the boxcars. Some even lay on top of the cars, their arms draped comfortably over the short rails, and he couldn’t help wondering where they were headed.

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