Chapter 9

Marjorie opened her eyes against the early morning sun. The warm beams fluttered in through the thin window treatments and caused Marjorie to smile. Stretching her body the length of the bed, she felt the feather mattress bend under her weight and she yawned, bringing tears to her eyes. Rolling back onto her other side, she pulled the blankets tight under her chin, wondering if she could go back to sleep. Marjorie couldn't remember the last time she woke up in such luxury. The bed was so comfortable and it was worth it just to know that she didn't have to wake up and go to class. It was beautiful, but as much as she wished she could stop time it simply could not be done. Disappointedly Marjorie heard the quiet sound of the door creak open and she barely opened her eyes to see a familiar figure enter the room.

Sarah was still wearing her nightgown as she tiptoed back into her room and tried to quietly set the breakfast tray on a table at the foot of the bed. She stood there for just a moment, staring at the tray of Nancy's breakfast, the sweet smells making her stomach grumble before turning toward the bed. She was tempted to eat, very tempted, but somehow it just didn't seem right. She took a few steps over to the bed, wrapping her arms around the bedpost as she watched the sleeping form intently.

Marjorie felt Sarah's weight hang on the bedpost. The entire bed shifted slightly, and Marjorie knew she was being watched. Playing 'possum, Marjorie kept her eyes closed, but couldn't resist the temptation not to smile. Slowly, and very much against her will her lips curled at the edges.

"Ah ha! I knew you weren't asleep." Sarah cried, bouncing the end of the bed a bit. "Wake up so we can have breakfast." Marjorie complied as Sarah retrieved the tray and deposited it on the bed before crawling under the covers herself. She pulled at the quilts and tucked them in around her legs, making herself warm against the cool November air.

"I didn't know that we were having breakfast up here this morning."

"Nancy thought it would be a nice treat. This way we can eat and get ready to go out. Mama said that we could take the buggy with us to go shopping this afternoon, and we could see a little bit of the city while we were at it."

"Oh really? We can be in the city just the two of us?" Marjorie leaned over and scanned the contents of the silver tray before her. She poked at the fruit sitting before her. Dabbing a little sugar on the food, she selected a strawberry and popped it into her mouth.

"Well, Johnny will drive us, but he won't go in with us. He'll just stay in the buggy, so it'll be like being by ourselves. " Sarah leaned back against the headboard with a cup of orange juice. "So do you know what you would like to get today?"

Marjorie just shrugged, taking a bit of bacon. "I don't know. I think I might like a new dress for the Christmas Dance."

"Oh, that'll be fun! I think we should start at Sahara's and then Carmichael's. We could have lunch at The Walnut Hill."

"That sounds lovely. When do we leave?"

"As soon as we finish eating."


"Where to now, Miss Sarah?" Johnny called to the young ladies who were gracefully clamoring into the back of the buggy. The air was a lot chillier than it had been in the park the day before. Even under their coats, the girls were shivering slightly. Sarah tossed the wrapped package onto the seat in front of them before snuggling down on the leather seat next to Marjorie, who promptly covered them both with a heavy blanket.

"Um…" Sarah shivered a little, pulling the blanket under her chin. "I think we want to go to Carmichael's, but can you take the long way? I want to show Marjorie some of the city."

"You know we could go home. We don't have to shop anymore. I'm sure I won't find anything." Marjorie sighed, a little disappointed that the morning had been a bust. Well, for her at least. Sarah had been successful in finding a new dress for Christmas and a new pair of shoes for school. Marjorie on the other hand was stuck on trying to find just the right dress, the right color, the right cut, the right everything. "It's alright to wait for the perfect dress." Sarah had told her as they scanned the contents of the last dress shop. Looking around Marjorie sighed, she knew Sarah was right there was a perfect dress out there somewhere, but as the day went on Marjorie only got more frustrated with herself. By now her frustration was bordering a little on self-pity.

"Of course we're not going home. You're going to get a beautiful dress for the dance and I'm going to find you a birthday present if it's the last thing I do today!" Sarah cried the last little bit in laughter, trying to lighten Marjorie's mood just a little. "Carmichael's is the best dress shop in all of New York. If you don't find anything there then we'll call it quits, but not until then." Sarah nodded determinedly and grinned as she watched a smile stretch across her friends face. Sometimes all Marjorie needed was to know that someone was still interested.

Turning her attention on the city around them, Sarah took a deep breath. The one thing that couldn't be said about New York was that it smelled pleasant. There were too many horses and too much mud, but it was comfortable and familiar. She loved the buildings and the shopping, the things to do, but at the end of the day, she enjoyed going home, to her room and her park. It was so pretty at home.

Seeing a large, two story decorative building inset off a side street, Sarah pointed at it to get Marjorie's attention. "That's Apollo Rooms. The New York Philharmonic played their first concert there last December. I didn't get to go, but I heard it was amazing. They started the concert with Beethoven's 5th symphony and they played for nearly three hours."

"Wow." Marjorie whispered taking in the large building. It wasn't very unusual from any of the buildings she had seen in Boston. She thought for just a moment on Sarah's words before adding her brutally honest opinion. "I think that would get boring rather quickly." Sarah laughed.

"I suppose it would, but Papa promised he'd take me the next time they performed."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I think you'd like it, but I don't have a musical bone in my body. After the first half hour everything would sound the same." Marjorie laughed.

"Come on. It's not that bad."

"Ok, I'll give you that. What's that building over there?" Marjorie leaned over Sarah as she saw a huge building come into view. The structure was three stories tall with beautifully etched molding around the roof and large ionic columns that ran the length the front. The building itself was made of a red brick while the corners and molding appeared to be of marble. It wasn't an exceptionally pretty structure by any means, but it did look important.

"That's the Tammany Hall." Sarah explained, turning her attention to the building. "It's the headquarters of the Tammany society and the Democratic Party."

"Oh," Marjorie wrinkled her nose. "Politics." As quickly as her interest appeared it was gone just as fast. Instead, as the little buggy turned down another street, her attention was drawn once again to the street. There was a woman, a strange looking woman who was walking down the sidewalk. Marjorie didn't know what it was, but she immediately knew that this strange woman was not like her. There was something different. The woman wasn't little by any means; she was actually quite big, curvy even. Her dress was made of silk and satin, but it was bright pink and blue in contrast to the conservative colors that draped the ladies surrounding her. The bodice fit her tightly and her bosom was well exposed, even though it was barely past noon. The woman was wearing a heavy red velvet cap and hood which was laid back to expose a large mass of blonde curls, unnaturally blonde curls. Marjorie just couldn't take her eyes off the strange woman. There was something peculiar about her. Perhaps it was the rigid, overly proud way she carried herself, moving slowly down the sidewalk not looking left or right, just straight ahead. As the little buggy passed the blonde woman on the street, Marjorie's eyes locked with the woman's, and she instantly felt her face flush. This wasn't right, something was wrong here and she didn't know what. Quickly she turned her gaze to Sarah who was saying something and tried to focus on her friend's words, all the while trying to slow her thumping heart. It was useless, though. No matter what she did, she just couldn't seem to remove that woman's face from her mind.

"Marjorie? Marjorie." Sarah jarred her friend from her thoughts with a quick tug on the shoulder. "You're not giving up on me yet are you?" Sarah smiled, oblivious to the confusion Marjorie was trying to work through in her mind.

"No, one more store right?"

As the two girls climbed down from the buggy, they headed into a building directly off the street. The store itself was much bigger than it looked on the outside. Dresses alternated between hangers and modeling figures situated sporadically throughout the room. Shelves lining the walls were dotted with shoes in various styles and colors. There was a hat rack in the corner, standing next to a full-length mirror and a display of hankies not to too far from there. Toward the back of the store, near the dressing rooms, the shelves were lines with bolts and bolts of fabric.

"Good afternoon ladies, may I help you with something?" The storekeeper asked, from behind a counter. He was folding shawls and preparing to put them away.

Sarah looked over from where she was fingering handbags. "Oh I think we're just looking for now. Thank you, though." She smiled sweetly before turning her attention back to the bags.

Marjorie took little time to scan the room. The hats were to ornate, the hand bags were to glittery, none of the shoes looked comfortable, and judging from her experience earlier today all of the perfume sitting at the display was too strong. She sighed, not sure of where to start, but then something caught her eyes. There, hanging on a model was one of the most beautiful dresses Marjorie had ever laid her eyes on.

Making her way straight to the dramatic garment, Marjorie fingered the soft fabric between her fingers. The dress was deep red velvet one piece with a long flowing skirt. The bodice was off the shoulder and the sleeves were short and tight with a bit of white lace around the bottom. It was perfect and beautiful. It was the one she had been looking for all day.

"Oh that's gorgeous." Sarah's breathless whisper suddenly broke the silence next to Marjorie.

"It is isn't it?"

"And it will look lovely on you. That red will make your hair shimmer."

Marjorie felt herself smile. Yes, this was the one, and she just knew that it was going to fit. Turning from the dress, she spotted the shopkeeper still at the counter. "Sir, can I try this on?"

The girls made their way out to the street with packages in hand. The cool air almost took their breath away. The inside of the store had been so warm, so inviting that they had forgotten how cold it was outside. Spotting the buggy sitting patiently for the down the road they began to make their way in that direction.

"I have to admit that I'm glad the shopping is done for the day. I spent far too much." Sarah explained, hugging the tiny little package to her chest.

"Oh not at all. That little purse you bought will match your new dress so beautifully."

Sarah smiled. She was proud of her accomplishments today. "Well we must say something about your dress. You know you're going to be the envy of the entire school if you wear that. It's too beautiful. I wish you had let me buy it for you. I still haven't gotten you anything for your birthday."

"Nonsense that was Father's job. He did send the money after all."

"I know but…" Sarah stopped suddenly, realizing that her friend was no longer listening to what she had to say. Instead, Marjorie was staring into a window, carefully observing the items laid out in the window. Sarah turned and backtracked to where Marjorie stood now.

"What's the name of this store?" she asked not taking her eyes off the window.

Sarah looked up at the words scrawled across the windows. Tiffany, Young, and Ellis, it said. She gestured at the sign with her hand. "Tiffany and… company." She answered, shortening the name a little. "Why? What do you see?"

Marjorie took a deep breath, and when she looked up she had tears in her eyes. Slightly alarmed, Sarah stepped closer to her friend. "No it's nothing like that." Marjorie said waving her friend off. She hated crying. It was humiliating. "It's that… it's that necklace in the window." Marjorie pointed to a piece of jewelry laid out in the glass casing. The necklace was made out of a dark vulcanite, giving it the impression of being nearly black. The charm was oval with an intricate rose carved into the facing.

"It's very beautiful."

"It looks like one my mother use to have. My father gave it to her. The only difference is that the front of hers has Forget-Me-Nots carved on it. Not roses."

Sarah grew quiet. She knew how important Marjorie's mother was to her. She knew that above everything else, the loss of her mother was what defined Marjorie, and so she understood how special this necklace was. "What happened to your mother's necklace?"

"I don't know. I never saw it again." Marjorie fell silent, and Sarah didn't say anything either. Instead, the two girls just stood there looking into the window, and then Sarah had an idea.

"Come on." She exclaimed grasping her friend's hand.

"What? Where are we going?"

"I still have to buy you a birthday present and I know the perfect thing." Sarah eagerly entered the store, Marjorie following behind her.

A few seconds later a store clerk could be seen in the window. He was removing a beautiful vulcanite necklace from the display case.


Michaela reclined back on the soft pillows on her bed. She was laying on top of the sheets, enjoying the warmth of the glowing fire as she waited for the bed warmer, Martha put in her bed to work its magic. Stretching her arms, she contorted her body to relieve her tired muscles. The soft tick tock of the mantle clock keeping a steady rhythm was slowly lulling her to sleep. Rubbing at her eyes, she once more turned her attention to the open book that was laying on her bent knees. While she read, her hands gravitated to a black thread around her neck and slid down until she felt the familiar smooth charm. Her fingers danced over the edges of the black vulcanite medallion and grazed across the top of the flowery edging. She didn't have to look at the charm to know the details of the Forget-Me-Nots that were engraved over the facing. The charm had belonged to Michaela's mother and as such, the little girl never parted with the jewelry. It remained around her neck permanently, and often times in quite times such as these when Michaela was alone and in her own world her fingers reached for the comforting charm.

Unable to keep her eyes on her book any longer (even the letters were beginning to blur together) Michaela slowly allowed her eyes to close and she felt her body begin slowly to relax. Her senses heightened, she toyed with the necklace lying on her chest. Slowly she slid deeper and deeper into a state of suspension between consciousness and sleep. Her hands and toes tingled, and her mind began to flash back through the scenes of the story she was reading.

"Father, we must make it to the fort by nightfall." Michaela said running up to where her father was riding a horse.

"We'll make it one time. Don't worry Mike." Joseph's eyes shone as he smiled down at her. Reaching out with his hand, he caught her up underneath her arm and pulled her up to sit in front of him. Kicking the horse slightly, Joseph took the trail at a near gallop. Giggling as they ran down the dirt path, Michaela felt the wind floating through her hair and dust sting at her eyes. They were racing up a small embankment, the last obstruction between them, and their camp for the night. Climbing the top of the hill, Joseph stopped, pulling back on the reigns and allowing the horse to rear slightly. When they finally settled, what Michaela saw in the valley below stopped her heart. Hundreds of tepees were sprawled across the earth, each reaching high to the sky. From here, the people of the village seemed to look like little ants. The horse reared once more, throwing Michaela off balance and she jerked to regain her composure.

Waking from the sudden movement of her body, Michaela blinked a few times trying to discern reality from her dream. Stretching again, she flipped her book closed for the night, considering her intentions a lost cause. Just as she laid the story on her bedside table there was a soft knock on the door before the unmistakable squeaking of her door.

Joseph winced, stepping into the room. "I promise I going to have Harrison fix that one day." He whispered stepping into the room.

"You've been saying that for almost a year now." Michaela replied dryly, watching him through slitted eyes. Rolling over to her side, she tucked her arms under herself for warmth.

"You look comfy and sleepy." Joseph whispered sitting down on the floor next to her bed.

"I fell asleep while I was reading my book." She mumbled lazily.

"Oh, what are you reading?" Joseph asked, reaching for the book laying on the nightstand and tilting it up so he could see the leather binding.

"It's a collection of short stories about the west. Oh and I had a dream about Indians."

"What about them."

"I don't know. You and I were riding through the plains and we came across this hill and there they were. It was scary. I think even the horse spooked." Michaela frowned, trying to piece back the scenes of her dream. Joseph, still sitting next to her sighed.

"You know just because Indians are different from us doesn't mean their mean or wicked. They're nothing to be afraid of."

Michaela frowned. "Do you think it is wrong to be afraid of them?" She felt as though she were being silently reprimanded. She didn't want to do anything her father would be disappointed in, but how could she control the way she felt in her dreams.

"I don't think it's wrong to be afraid. Different is scary, but I think that it's important for you to make sure that your fear is only because you do not understand and not because you dislike them."

"Why would I dislike them if I don't know them?" Michaela's question elicited a chuckle from her father as he lifted her from the bed in order to pull the covers back. Laying her back down, he covered her up once again.

"That's precisely the question you need to remember, my dear. Now, is the bed nice and toasty?" Michaela nodded, yawning. "Well the, sleep tight." Leaning forward her kissed her on the forehead before blowing out the lamp beside her. Picking up her worn dress from the evening, he laid it across a chair on his way to the door.

"Father?" The soft little voice disrupted his passage into the hallway, calling him back into her little room.

"What it is Mike?" He whispered.

"Do you know how to ride a horse?"

"What?"

"You rode a horse in my dream. Do you really know how?" Stepping back into the room, Joseph leaned against the doorframe.

"I do know how. We have much more use for riding in the country than we do here in Boston." Suppressing yet another yawn, Michaela struggled to stay awake.

"Will you teach me?"

"One day I'll teach you to ride a horse, but not tonight."

Smiling, content with her father's answer Michaela snuggled back down into her warm bed. "Ok, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

There you go guys! Yay for chapter 9 and on to chapter 10. I only hope I feel a little better so I can give you a little more of an entertaining chapter next Friday. ;)