Author's Notes: The second of my Willa stories (I don't know how many there will be total; it probably depends on how many I have the inspiration to write). It's a little rushed because I needed this written before I write my Christmas fic, but I'll probably come back and revise it after the holiday. In the meantime, feedback is much appreciated.
Missing
He woke up earlier and earlier these days. Every day like clockwork, Kloppman roused him at least a half-hour before the rest, and he got ready for the day alone. He would leave for the morning, grabbing his change to buy papers later, and when he reached his destination, he waited.
Every morning he sat outside her church, not praying (he had never known how anyway), but waiting. And every morning after the five am Mass, they would exit in a flood; he had learned long ago to sit by the stone balustrade next to the top step or be trampled. She would exit with them in a patched dress, dirty white kerchief pulled tight over her head, hands folded at her waist. She would cross herself as always, father-son-holy-spirit (or so Willa had tried to teach him), and finally, after what he considered the longest moments of the day, she would look at him.
"Any letters?" he asked.
On most days she would shake her head sadly and say, "No, Ben", but today, in mid-October, Lillian Hoverson looked at him and beamed. He could have sworn he felt his heart leap in his chest.
"Came yesterday afternoon," she told him, pulling a taupe envelope from her dress's front pocket and handing it to him. "I'll stay for a few minutes while you read it, but then I've got to get to the factory." Crutchy nodded.
"Did she send you one too?" he asked, tearing at the seal.
"Yes." Lillian sat down next to him.
"What'd she tell you?"
"Probably the same thing she'll tell you." She shrugged. "Maybe a little more, I don't know. Read it out loud to me?"
Crutchy nodded. He knew Lillian hadn't read the letter Willa had sent her on her own.
"Dear Ben," he read. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to write you yet. I've been having a hard time sorting things out. I'm in B--" he stumbled over the foreign-looking word. "Bal…"
"Baltimore," finished Lillian, adding, "I think it's in Vermont. Polly told me it's Maryland 'cause she's booklearned, but that doesn't sound right to me."
"What's she doing in Baltimore?" he demanded immediately.
"Keep reading."
"Mrs. Arnolde -- the lady from the church I told you about -- visited me before I left, and she told me that she was had her cities all mixed up. She met my brother in Baltimore, not Boston, so I'm here now but I can't find him. I think she was wrong." Crutchy paused. "Wrong? Lill?"
"She's always had trouble with place names," Lillian said sadly. "Mrs. Arnolde, not Willa. But there's good in it too," she added, trying to be hopeful. "Go on."
"Right now I found a job, doing piecework. The hours are long, but our boss is real nice, so I guess it's better than factory work for now. I'm trying to earn money to get a train ticket to Boston, and to have a little bit to live on when I get there. I'll keep writing you letters when I can, but I don't know where you can send yours if you want to write me back. I'm moving around, trying to find the cheapest bed so I can save the most. When I get settled in Boston (I think maybe it will be the beginning of next year), you can send letters there. Till then I'll keep sending these to Lill, 'cause I can trust her and I know she'll get them to you." He looked over at Lillian, whose lips were tugging upwards into a proud smile. "Hope I can talk to you soon, Willa." Crutchy folded the letter and replaced it in the envelope. "That's all?" he asked her. "How am I supposed to talk to her?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "As soon as she finds a way, though, she'll let us know. You've gotta believe in it, you know? Gotta have faith."
"I don't believe in God, Lill."
"I know Willa will tell you otherwise, but that's not the only kind of faith there is." She watched a cluster of people walk by and began to gather up her skirt. "I've got to go, Ben," she said, rising. "I can't be late and risk my job. Thanks for reading me the letter."
"They're probably waiting for me at the World," he said, bracing his crutch to help himself stand. He didn't know if this was true, but he didn't want her to think that she was leaving him alone. "The presses are rolling by now, I'm sure, and I've got papes to sell." Above him, Lillian held out a hand. "It's okay," he told her as he staggered upright. "I can do it myself."
"All right." She began to descend the steps. "Have a good day, Ben."
"You too, Lillian." When she reached the street he called out tentatively, "Lill?"
She paused and turned. "Yes?"
"I…I miss her." It was the first time he'd admitted it.
"Me too, Ben." She waved again and continued down the street, away from the church and in the direction of the factory where she worked, once with Willa.
Crutchy looked at the off-white envelope in his hand and folded it in half, tracing the rounded bulge in the middle with a finger. Later, on his own, alone in the Lodging House, he would take it out again. Rereading it, he would picture her writing it in Baltimore (in Vermont or Maryland or wherever it really was), telling him as much as she could without putting it onto the page with ink, thinking about what she would tell him the next time she wrote him. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and began to move down the church steps.
As long as he had her letters, this one and the others he knew would follow, she wouldn't be far away. For now, it was enough.
please won't you call and ease my mind
reasons for me to find you
peace of mind
what can i do to get me to you