Part I
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"But Aunt Breanna, I don't wanna move ta New York!" protested the little boy. "I won't like it there! I like it here, in Pittsburgh!"
"Nonsense, Michael. You don't know what's best for you yet," his Aunt Breanna told him. "Have you packed all your things?"
"Yes, Aunt Breanna," he sighed.
"And you, Sally?"
"Yes, Momma," Michael's sixteen-year-old cousin said.
"Then what is that slingshot doing in your pocket?" she asked sternly.
"I wanna keep it with me!"
"You put that in the trunk, Michael."
"No! I wanna keep it with me!"
"Michael..."
"Aunt Breanna, please?"
The woman looked down at the little boy. She sighed. "Fine, you may keep it with you. But if you lose it, don't come crying to me!"
"Or me," added Sally.
Michael stuck his tongue out in her direction.
"Momma, Michael st-"
"I did not!" protested Michael.
"You didn't even hear what I had to say!"
"I know what you were gonna say!"
"What?" taunted Sally, who still quarreled with her cousin like a child.
"You were gonna say that I stuck my tongue out at you, and I didn't!"
"You did!"
"Hush, the both of you! I don't want to hear the two of you bickering back and forth. It'll be a long train ride to New York."
Sally climbed into the waiting carriage. Michael scrambled up beside her, and Aunt Breanna followed. "Say goodbye to Pittsburgh, children."
"Oh, Momma, must we leave? We were so happy here! Besides, I've got to leave Elizabeth and Sarah and Emily and Margaret behind! And my school, and all my other friends, and Thomas-"
"Now, Sally, there will be plenty of friends to make in New York City! Many more. And better schools. I'll be able to have a better job, and…"
Michael tuned his aunt and cousin out and watched the Monogahela River roll by lazily. He had been born seven years ago, in 1883. Michael had lived in Ohio on a small farm for five years, with three pretty older sisters and both his parents. Maria was the oldest, then Stephanie, and then Dana. Dana was the nicest of them all. She was ten and was quite a tomboy. Michael and Dana had been very best friends until… the accident.
When Michael was five, Dana was nine, Stephanie was fifteen, and Maria was nineteen, the family moved to Pittsburgh. They lived in a small apartment that was very crowded and cramped. The entire family, with the exception of Michael, worked at the factory. Michael wasn't old enough yet.
"Michael! Michael, wake up! It's time for you to go down to Aunt Breanna's!" said Maria cheerfully.
Michael rolled over. "All right, all right, I'm awake, honest!" protested Michael. Then he remembered. "Dana! Dana, it's my birthday! Dana, I'm six! I'm catchin' up ta you, Dana! I'm six! Six whole years old, I'm six!" he cried.
His mother laughed. "Go on, get dressed! When the day's over and we're home, we'll have a surprise for you."
"Oh, Michael, you'll love it!" promised Dana.
"Hush, Dana! Don't tell him!" cried Stephanie, playfully swatting her little sister with a dishtowel. "Hurry, Michael! Breakfast is almost ready!"
"Don't I have time fer a bath?" he moaned. He loved soaking in the porcelain bathtub until his skin turned wrinkly and the water was cold.
"Of course! It's your birthday, isn't it?" asked Maria.
Michael grinned and ran for the bathtub. By the time he was done, breakfast was waiting.
"Happy birthday, Michael!" said everyone as he sat down.
Maria set down a plate of pancakes in front of him and kissed him.
"Aww, don't, Maria!" he protested, squirming away. Stephanie and his mother just laughed. Michael blushed. He didn't like people laughing at him. He started eating his breakfast.
"Here, Michael! I got you something!" said Dana.
"Fer me?" asked Michael. Even at six, he knew money was scarce, and there hadn't been birthday presents for a while.
Dana nodded and shyly presented him with a package wrapped in the previous day's newspaper.
Michael tore off the paper. "A slingshot! Oh, golly, thanks, Dana! This is the best present in the world!" He lunged at her and hugged her, knocking them both over.
"Ow!" cried Dana, rubbing her head but laughing. "Be careful there! When I get home from the factory, I'll teach you how to shoot it!"
"Not in here you won't," warned Dana's mother. "Come on, Michael. Run down to Aunt Breanna's. She'll be glad to see the birthday boy!"
"But Sally's awful mean!" protested Michael. "I'm just glad she's at her fancy girls' school all day!"
"Michael. She's your cousin! Now be nice, and be a good boy!" His mother kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you too, Ma! Bye Day! Bye Stephie! Bye Maria! Bye Pa!" Michael clattered down the stairs, prepared to spend the day having Aunt Breanna's friends fuss over how adorable he was.
The day was long for little Michael, and the only thing that kept him from going through Sally's cosmetics was the surprise Ma had promised. It was tough, since he loved playing practical jokes on Sally. Mixing her rouge and powder together had gotten a rather wonderful reaction from Sally. And hiding all her tiny hairpins all over her room was fun. But Michael managed to be good for the whole day.
"Aunt Breanna, shouldn't Ma and Pa and Stephie and Maria and Day be home by now?" asked Michael anxiously. "They promised a special surprise!"
"It *is* rather late," said Aunt Breanna thoughtfully.
"Thomas is picking me up at eight to go to the theater," said Sally. "I'm going to get ready. Momma, did you press my best dress?"
"Yes, Sally. It's in your room."
"You didn't touch it, did you Michael?" asked Sally anxiously. "If you did…"
"I didn't!" cried Michael. "Aunt Breanna, where are they?"
"I don't know, Michael. Here, have some of this vegetable stew."
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Michael stayed up all night waiting for Dana to come bouncing into Aunt Breanna's apartment, but she never came. Sally went off to the theater and came home again. The night came and went, and Michael's family still didn't come.
"Where's Dana?" asked Michael, tears filling his eyes.
Aunt Breanna shook her head. "Come, Michael. We'll go to the factory and see if something's happened."
Michael and Aunt Breanna stepped onto the street. They began walking to the factory.
"Extra! Extra! Hundreds die in factory fire!"
"Aunt Breanna," Michael said, pulling on her skirt. "Buy a paper from him!"
"I don't need one, Michael. No one reads it."
"But he said-"
"Michael, hush!"
"There was a fire in a factory!" he cried, stopping still.
Aunt Breanna turned to Michael. She paused, then went over to the boy and bought a paper. She scanned it quickly, then slowly went over to Michael and stooped down to his level. "Michael… at the factory yesterday…"
"They're dead?" he asked quietly.
"Michael…"
"IS MY FAMILY DEAD?" he screamed, unnoticed tears falling down his face.
Aunt Breanna drew backwards a bit. "Yes… yes, Michael. Michael, I'm-"
Michael pushed her over and took off running. He had no idea where he was going, but did it matter? They were dead. Dana, Stephanie, Maria, his mother, his father… he could only think of the past times. All the good times he and Dana had on their farm in Ohio, the times Stephanie had gotten him out of trouble, the time Maria let Michael help make dinner and didn't even mind when he spilled a cup of sugar.
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"Michael! Michael, stop daydreaming! Come, get on the train. Hurry, it's going to leave any moment," said Aunt Breanna, shaking his shoulder. "Hold Sally's hand."
"I ain't holdin' no girl's hand!" he protested.
Aunt Breanna shook her head. "Fine. But don't get lost!"
"I won't! I'm seven! I won't get lost!" He followed Aunt Breanna onto the train and sat down in the seat beside the window. He didn't want to leave Pittsburgh. He was leaving everything that he'd ever known behind again.
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"But Aunt Breanna, I don't wanna move ta New York!" protested the little boy. "I won't like it there! I like it here, in Pittsburgh!"
"Nonsense, Michael. You don't know what's best for you yet," his Aunt Breanna told him. "Have you packed all your things?"
"Yes, Aunt Breanna," he sighed.
"And you, Sally?"
"Yes, Momma," Michael's sixteen-year-old cousin said.
"Then what is that slingshot doing in your pocket?" she asked sternly.
"I wanna keep it with me!"
"You put that in the trunk, Michael."
"No! I wanna keep it with me!"
"Michael..."
"Aunt Breanna, please?"
The woman looked down at the little boy. She sighed. "Fine, you may keep it with you. But if you lose it, don't come crying to me!"
"Or me," added Sally.
Michael stuck his tongue out in her direction.
"Momma, Michael st-"
"I did not!" protested Michael.
"You didn't even hear what I had to say!"
"I know what you were gonna say!"
"What?" taunted Sally, who still quarreled with her cousin like a child.
"You were gonna say that I stuck my tongue out at you, and I didn't!"
"You did!"
"Hush, the both of you! I don't want to hear the two of you bickering back and forth. It'll be a long train ride to New York."
Sally climbed into the waiting carriage. Michael scrambled up beside her, and Aunt Breanna followed. "Say goodbye to Pittsburgh, children."
"Oh, Momma, must we leave? We were so happy here! Besides, I've got to leave Elizabeth and Sarah and Emily and Margaret behind! And my school, and all my other friends, and Thomas-"
"Now, Sally, there will be plenty of friends to make in New York City! Many more. And better schools. I'll be able to have a better job, and…"
Michael tuned his aunt and cousin out and watched the Monogahela River roll by lazily. He had been born seven years ago, in 1883. Michael had lived in Ohio on a small farm for five years, with three pretty older sisters and both his parents. Maria was the oldest, then Stephanie, and then Dana. Dana was the nicest of them all. She was ten and was quite a tomboy. Michael and Dana had been very best friends until… the accident.
When Michael was five, Dana was nine, Stephanie was fifteen, and Maria was nineteen, the family moved to Pittsburgh. They lived in a small apartment that was very crowded and cramped. The entire family, with the exception of Michael, worked at the factory. Michael wasn't old enough yet.
"Michael! Michael, wake up! It's time for you to go down to Aunt Breanna's!" said Maria cheerfully.
Michael rolled over. "All right, all right, I'm awake, honest!" protested Michael. Then he remembered. "Dana! Dana, it's my birthday! Dana, I'm six! I'm catchin' up ta you, Dana! I'm six! Six whole years old, I'm six!" he cried.
His mother laughed. "Go on, get dressed! When the day's over and we're home, we'll have a surprise for you."
"Oh, Michael, you'll love it!" promised Dana.
"Hush, Dana! Don't tell him!" cried Stephanie, playfully swatting her little sister with a dishtowel. "Hurry, Michael! Breakfast is almost ready!"
"Don't I have time fer a bath?" he moaned. He loved soaking in the porcelain bathtub until his skin turned wrinkly and the water was cold.
"Of course! It's your birthday, isn't it?" asked Maria.
Michael grinned and ran for the bathtub. By the time he was done, breakfast was waiting.
"Happy birthday, Michael!" said everyone as he sat down.
Maria set down a plate of pancakes in front of him and kissed him.
"Aww, don't, Maria!" he protested, squirming away. Stephanie and his mother just laughed. Michael blushed. He didn't like people laughing at him. He started eating his breakfast.
"Here, Michael! I got you something!" said Dana.
"Fer me?" asked Michael. Even at six, he knew money was scarce, and there hadn't been birthday presents for a while.
Dana nodded and shyly presented him with a package wrapped in the previous day's newspaper.
Michael tore off the paper. "A slingshot! Oh, golly, thanks, Dana! This is the best present in the world!" He lunged at her and hugged her, knocking them both over.
"Ow!" cried Dana, rubbing her head but laughing. "Be careful there! When I get home from the factory, I'll teach you how to shoot it!"
"Not in here you won't," warned Dana's mother. "Come on, Michael. Run down to Aunt Breanna's. She'll be glad to see the birthday boy!"
"But Sally's awful mean!" protested Michael. "I'm just glad she's at her fancy girls' school all day!"
"Michael. She's your cousin! Now be nice, and be a good boy!" His mother kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you too, Ma! Bye Day! Bye Stephie! Bye Maria! Bye Pa!" Michael clattered down the stairs, prepared to spend the day having Aunt Breanna's friends fuss over how adorable he was.
The day was long for little Michael, and the only thing that kept him from going through Sally's cosmetics was the surprise Ma had promised. It was tough, since he loved playing practical jokes on Sally. Mixing her rouge and powder together had gotten a rather wonderful reaction from Sally. And hiding all her tiny hairpins all over her room was fun. But Michael managed to be good for the whole day.
"Aunt Breanna, shouldn't Ma and Pa and Stephie and Maria and Day be home by now?" asked Michael anxiously. "They promised a special surprise!"
"It *is* rather late," said Aunt Breanna thoughtfully.
"Thomas is picking me up at eight to go to the theater," said Sally. "I'm going to get ready. Momma, did you press my best dress?"
"Yes, Sally. It's in your room."
"You didn't touch it, did you Michael?" asked Sally anxiously. "If you did…"
"I didn't!" cried Michael. "Aunt Breanna, where are they?"
"I don't know, Michael. Here, have some of this vegetable stew."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Michael stayed up all night waiting for Dana to come bouncing into Aunt Breanna's apartment, but she never came. Sally went off to the theater and came home again. The night came and went, and Michael's family still didn't come.
"Where's Dana?" asked Michael, tears filling his eyes.
Aunt Breanna shook her head. "Come, Michael. We'll go to the factory and see if something's happened."
Michael and Aunt Breanna stepped onto the street. They began walking to the factory.
"Extra! Extra! Hundreds die in factory fire!"
"Aunt Breanna," Michael said, pulling on her skirt. "Buy a paper from him!"
"I don't need one, Michael. No one reads it."
"But he said-"
"Michael, hush!"
"There was a fire in a factory!" he cried, stopping still.
Aunt Breanna turned to Michael. She paused, then went over to the boy and bought a paper. She scanned it quickly, then slowly went over to Michael and stooped down to his level. "Michael… at the factory yesterday…"
"They're dead?" he asked quietly.
"Michael…"
"IS MY FAMILY DEAD?" he screamed, unnoticed tears falling down his face.
Aunt Breanna drew backwards a bit. "Yes… yes, Michael. Michael, I'm-"
Michael pushed her over and took off running. He had no idea where he was going, but did it matter? They were dead. Dana, Stephanie, Maria, his mother, his father… he could only think of the past times. All the good times he and Dana had on their farm in Ohio, the times Stephanie had gotten him out of trouble, the time Maria let Michael help make dinner and didn't even mind when he spilled a cup of sugar.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Michael! Michael, stop daydreaming! Come, get on the train. Hurry, it's going to leave any moment," said Aunt Breanna, shaking his shoulder. "Hold Sally's hand."
"I ain't holdin' no girl's hand!" he protested.
Aunt Breanna shook her head. "Fine. But don't get lost!"
"I won't! I'm seven! I won't get lost!" He followed Aunt Breanna onto the train and sat down in the seat beside the window. He didn't want to leave Pittsburgh. He was leaving everything that he'd ever known behind again.