"There's dried meat and cheese for your lunch and you can have leftovers from last night for your dinner. We'll be back on the six o' clock train," a frazzled Marilla rambled on as she adjusted her hat and then inspected Anne.
"My word!" She licked her thumb and rubbed off a dirt smudge on Anne's cheek, "if you look like an urchin, Heaven knows what danger you'll attract!"
"Marilla-" Anne looked mortified as her adopted mother smoothed her hair.
They were standing on the train platform, about to catch the nine o clock train to Charlottetown. With some pursuasion from Matthew, Marilla relented and decided that Anne could go back to the orphanage for her records…as long as she went with her to chaperone.
"All aboard!"
"Well that's us, then."
Anne hugged Matthew and then boarded, while Marilla hung back.
"Matthew, is this such a good idea? What if she finds a relative?"
"I'm more worried that she'll discover something she wished she hadn't found."
Marilla stared at him, "I-I suppose it's good I'm going then."
"Last on board!" The conductor shouted, motioning the driver to blow the whistle.
"See you tonight!" She hurried on inside snd found Anne by her telltale flaming locks.
Matthew stood on the platform waving to them.
Anne waved back grinning ear to ear.
"Today's the day I find more about me," Anne smiled contentedly.
She closed her eyes and slumped against the train window.
Marilla fretted as she watched her dear daughter sleep.
She had come to love this girl more than she ever thought possible. What would happen if she found a long lost aunt and wanted to live with her?
Before she knew it the train pulled in the station.
"Anne, we're here," she shook her awake.
They walked from the station through Charlottetown, Anne pointed out all of the pretty dresses women had on while Marilla rolled her eyes but had to agree with Anne.
After much walking—with Anne leading the way— the two women stood before an ominous building with tall gates. A crow sat on the top of the archway, his beady black eye staring into your very soul, making Marilla shiver. She unknowingly stepped closer to Anne.
Anne was nervous but she set her jaw and marched through, going up to the door and knocking.
Marilla looked around and saw a little red haired girl with her hair a mess about her head sitting on a bench.
Marilla had a supernatural moment where she saw Anne, sitting there, looking out through the gate, wondering when or if someone would ever come and give her a loving home with good food and warm clothes.
She was snapped out of her daydream by a sob coming from the girl. Glancing at Anne waiting to be let in she made her way over.
"What's wrong?"
"I-I," here the girl wiped her nose with her sleeve, "I peed by accident. The matron will be very angry with me." Her face was so sad and her brown eyes so large that Marilla felt such pity.
An older girl came up and picked the little redhead up, carrying her inside the establishment.
Finally a middle aged woman opened the door so abruptly that Anne jumped in fright. Marilla grabbed her hand, steadying her.
"Matron will see you now. Don't dally, she has a very busy day," the woman snapped.
Marilla couldn't help but notice how jittery Anne was, whether out of fright or excitement—or both—she couldn't tell, though she had a good inkling that it was both.
They were seated in front of a large oak desk, the kind of desk that would intimidate a small child should he or she be made to stand in front of it.
Like a ball from a cannon, a rather heavy set woman came barreling through the door. She sat down in her high backed chair and stared piercingly at them.
Anne grabbed Marilla's hand subtly, "My name is Anne Shir-"
" I remember you. You're the one who talked too much," the matron interrupted, "now what are you doing back here?"
"I was hoping you had a record or files about my birth parents, about where they came from and if there are any other living relatives to them."
The matron thumbed through her filing cabinet, pulling out a piece of paper.
"This is all that we have for you. Take it, we don't need it anymore."
Anne took it from her outstretched arm and they sat outside the office while they read it.
On the other side of the door, across from them, sat a father and his two kids, a little boy and girl.
Marilla watched as he was called in and she heard him and the matron talking.
"….um I'm not sure how old they are, he's probably around four or five and she's six or seven."
"If they ask what do you want me to tell them of your whereabouts?"
"Please, tell them I'm dead. I don't want them looking for me."
Marilla watched Anne whip her head up, her eyes getting cloudy as she took deep breaths.
"I know," Marilla murmured, stroking Anne's hand in comfort.
What really did Anne in was watching the little boy cling to his father's leg as the man tried to leave.
"Papa! No leave! No leave!" He was pried away by one of the teen boys who carried him off with his sister in tow.
The dad all but glanced back as he strode away, his step seeming a bit lighter than it had with his children.
Marilla watched Anne's lip quiver. She wanted to wrap her up in a hug but refrained when Anne shot up and practically ran through the halls.
"Anne! Slow down!"
Anne fast-walked through the asylum, going down a flight of stairs and into an alcove.
Marilla was panting by now, "Anne I don't think we're supposed to be in here."
Anne stood underneath the staircase, groping above for something.
Finally she yanked out a stack of papers, the thin rectangles floating all over the ground. Marilla helped her collect them, wondering what they were.
Anne read off one, "Today, Princess Cordelia awaited for a prince to come but alas, he never did."
She picked up another, "I, Princess Cordelia, have turned nine today. Maybe this will be the year I'll be carried away from this dungeon?"
Her eyes filled as she looked at a confused Marilla.
"Don't you see? I thought I was Princess Cordelia. And that my parents were a long lost king and queen! What kind of delusional, delinquent was I?!"
Marilla grabbed her hand, "you were trying to cope with what you had. Oh Anne, Matthew and I will always wish that you came to us sooner so that you could have evaded all the misfortune," She pressed her forehead against Anne's.
"What if I wasn't wanted? Marilla, I have to know if I was loved by them," she looked up, her blue eyes so clear that Marilla could see every emotion behind her irises.
"Let's go home for now. We'll see what Matthew says," Although, inwardly she already knew that he would agree.
Anne nodded and they were about to leave when Anne spied a young woman scrubbing the floor.
"You." She spat at Anne, making Marilla boil.
The lady stood up but Anne towered over her, "you look like a shiny new penny. Whatcha doing here? Get yourself knocked up?* Dropping off a bit of trash? In any case, you'll always be the sad, worthless orphan, Mouse.*"
Marilla was appalled, she touched Anne's shoulder, "come, dear, it's time to go," while glaring at the woman all the way.
Anne made to follow Marilla but she stopped and turned around, "I'm sorry you never got placed out and are still here." And with that she practically ran out the door with Marilla right behind her.
The woman walked after them, stopping on the porch, yelling, "I work here! I'm not still here! I get paid!" Anne heard her sob which told her otherwise, however.
The ferry ride home was a silent one. Marilla had so many questions for Anne but chose to button up her lips and look at her.
Anne was deep in thought, for once not talking.
The ride home with Matthew was hard, he too had many questions for her.
After dinner Anne asked to be excused and Marilla let her.
She finished tidying up and went to sit with Matthew by the fire. The warm glow was always a place of comfort and contemplation for the siblings.
"I'm going to go to bed early tonight. Heaven knows today has been a trying one. Good night Matthew."
"Goodnight."
She was about to turn left towards her room but heard praying from Anne's.
Standing outside the door, she could hear Anne's prayer.
Anne was sobbing to God, "…please, help me. I want to know more about my family, my father and mother. I need to know if they…loved me-"
She jumped when the door creaked open and Marilla with a concerned face walked in.
"Anne, may I speak with you?"
"Yes Marilla?"
Marilla sat on the bed and patted next to her for Anne to sit. Once Anne sat down Marilla began to speak.
"Anne, what you saw today was…traumatizing. I imagine you saw that all the time when you were there. Like I said earlier, Matthew and I will always wish that we could've saved you from the horrors you faced. I know that Matthew and I may not be even close to comparable to your parents. But, if it helps, you must know that we, him and I, love you as if you were our own," Marilla said, becoming emotional.
Anne gave Marilla a hug and then let go after a time, "I love you two, so very much," her voice coming out muffled in Marilla neck.
"Do you remember where Mrs. Thomas lived?"
Anne thought and nodded slowly "I think so"
"Then maybe I'll write to her. And ask about your parents. She must've knew them somehow."
Anne smiled sadly, "what a lovely idea."
Marilla wrapped her arm around Anne's shoulder, feeling completely unnatural.
Anne could sense her awkwardness but she appreciated the gesture.
She leaned her head on Marilla'a breast, the smell of soap and rosemary wafting through the patterned fabric.
After a time, when it was evident that Anne didn't want her to leave, Marilla shifted and laid down in her bed. Anne maneuvered with her, relishing this rare display of physical affection from her adoptive mother.
She could tell that Marilla was trying very hard to be what she needed, even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone. Anne loved her all the more for it.
Mother and daughter lay in the big bed, getting comfort from one another—Marilla trying to get the scene with the father and his children out of her head, and Anne needing the support of a mother vs a mentor.
Once Anne fell asleep in Marilla's arms, she gently laid her down and tucked her in, placing a kiss on her forehead. Silently, Marilla left the room and laid down in her own bed, finding it much more lonely than it had been before.
She hadn't been in someone else's bed since she was a child, curled up against her own dear mother. A memory came to her just then of her departed Aunt Izzy:
"What did you wish for, Marilla?"
"It would be nice to know the love of a child."
"And one day you shall have it**"
—-
*anne with an e
**Marilla of Green Gables, Sarah McCoy