But when he was with Marjorie, his entire perspective changed. She treated them not as nameless faces, but rather as people, as deeply hurting souls, as children in misfortune for that was who they truly were: someone’s children caught up in a world that had no place for them other than in the gutter.
Usually, Alexander would not even go into an alley that seemed to be teeming with parentless children whom he would immediately deem as pickpockets with sticky fingers. Now, all he did was follow Marjorie and Edith who moved about these shadows as if this was their true home.Once, it had been,a voice reminded him. Alexander wondered if his father found Marjorie in an alley such as this one. Dank, dark, teeming with vermin of both animal as well as human kind. When he found her, was she starving? Was she ill?
Only now did he realize that he never asked his father the circumstances in which he found Marjorie and took her off the streets. He pegged her immediately as the enemy, and as such, he did not care to hear about her past. A veil of shame fell upon him now. He thanked the heavens for it being invisible to the objective human eye.
He watched as Marjorie bent down towards a young girl who could not have been more than thirteen. In her arms, a babe was slumbering, wrapped in dirty rags, probably the cleanest thing the poor thing could find to keep the baby warm. Sympathy washed over him.
“How is he, Ella?” Marjorie asked the girl, who immediately smiled upon seeing a familiar face address her so cordially.
“Better, Miss. Marjorie, thank you very much for the milk you sent us,” Ella replied, her grimy little fingers unwrapping the rag only enough for Marjorie to look at a chubby little babe, whose lips parted like a blossoming summer rose as he breathed evenly.
“I am so happy to hear that,” Marjorie said, gently caressing the baby’s cheek with the tips of her fingers. The babe stirred, but immediately went back to deep slumber. “Do you have anywhere to go tonight?”
“No,” Ella shook her head, as a sudden gush of wind fluttered her hair away from her face, revealing a young, but tortured soul. Once again, thunder exploded in the distance, but closer than the last time. They all knew that time was ticking out. They needed to get these children off the streets immediately. “There is no room anywhere. The orphanages are full. They turned us out.”
“What about Dorsey’s?” Marjorie asked.
Alexander knew that Dorsey’s was a newly opened orphanage, which doubled as a children’s hospital at the same time. From what he had heard, the conditions in there were deplorable, mostly because the idea was there and when presented initially, everyone was for it, but once it came time for financial support, people seemed to have other things in mind. So, Dorsey’s mostly remained a good idea with bad execution. At least it was there. That was something.
“No,” Ella shook her head. This time, the baby opened his eyes. His forehead crumpled up immediately. He did not like what he saw. Or perhaps he had not eaten today yet. Alexander could not tell which one.
Ella tried to soothe him, by rocking him softly, but it did little to pacify the baby which started to cry now more and more loudly. Marjorie looked up at him.
“Her brother needs to eat,” she said. “Not only that, but they all need to eat as well, and spend the night somewhere with a dry roof over their heads.”
“But where?” Edith shook her head. “The only place that can accommodate them would be an inn, but we can hardly afford it for them all. It would cost a fortune.”
Alexander looked about. When they entered the alley, there were about a dozen children scattered about. Now, he could count as many as thirty, perhaps even more if he continued counting.
“There must be a way to put them up somewhere for the night,” Marjorie refused to admit defeat, her voice trembling as if about to break any moment. It was more than sympathy she felt for these children. It was pure love. “Perhaps someone would take them in, out of the goodness of their heart…” The way she said it assured Alexander that not many people would do that. She tried not to sound defeated, but it was more difficult with each passing second. They could all smell the oncoming storm in the air.
He could tell where the pain on Marjorie’s face stemmed from. She was once like these urchins, doing whatever was necessary to survive. He wondered what that baby did wrong to be left out into the world on its own. It was devastating. The sound of the cries filled his ears. Those sad eyes staring into his own, into the very depth of his soul, making him question every decision he had made up to this point.
The first rain drops fell on his forehead, then on his nose. He could still barely feel them. The storm had not begun yet. They had a few more precious moments to come up with a solution.
“I would like to pay for all of them to stay at an inn tonight,” he suddenly heard himself say.
Marjorie turned to him, her eyes staring at him incredulous. Edith’s jaw dropped almost to the ground. A few of the girls around them gasped. Some of the boys turned to the first person next to them and whispered something right into their ear. A few nods were observed. Alexander knew that these children probably did not trust him. The world taught them a hard lesson never to trust anyone, especially when they come with good intentions. But that did not matter now.
“Really?” Marjorie managed to muster.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “But we must make haste, for the rain has already started, and the wind is growing stronger by the minute.”
A few more whispers were audible, then Marjorie took over. “All right then, boys and girls, follow us. The inn is about fifteen minutes walking, so try to keep up, lest we get caught in the rain.”
With those words, Marjorie unexpectedly took him by the hand, and together, they led the procession of grubby boys and girls, with faces filled with wonder and confusion. Some of them were still whispering, unable to take their eyes off the couple that was leading them. Others skipped and hopped. Even the baby was not crying any longer, as if a ray of hope befell her blessed little face. It fell back asleep, as if it knew that at least for that very night, it would sleep in a warm room, on a cozy bed.
Alexander said nothing. All he did was squeeze Marjorie’s hand back, his heart doubling in size inside his chest.
Chapter 11
“All right then,” Marjorie endeavored to outvoice the sound of the children’s chatter. “Please calm down, so we can all allocate you to your room for the night.”
“Miss. Marjorie?” A tiny little voice from the way back of the huddled group managed to find its way to her.
“Yes?” She stood on her toes to catch a glimpse of the boy to whom the voice belonged, when an older, bigger boy lifted him up so he could both see and be seen better.
“Are we to sleep here every night from now on?” The hope in his voice was crushing. The fact that her answer would not be what he was expecting was even more devastating. But she knew that these children deserved the truth. Lying to them would only push them away from her, and she needed them to know that she was their friend, that she was doing everything in her power to help them.
