Chapter One – Charlie's Departure
"Please don't go Charlie," I begged, "There's going to be an accident I swear. I wouldn't lie about this."
"You just don't want me to leave you," Charlie shook his head sadly, "You are going to be just fine here without me. It'll only be a year and then I'll be back for you. We'll go to New York like we always talked about."
"It won't be just a year," I wailed, "It will be forever!"
"Alice stop this," Charlie said in frustration, "First you said my train would derail so I cancelled my ticket. That would have given us a few extra days to say goodbye. Now I have to take an uncomfortable stagecoach today to be in Colorado by the first. No one rides stagecoaches anymore. I hear they will have motorized stagecoaches in a couple of years and…"
"The train will derail and crush your stagecoach," I screamed.
"That's ridiculous," Charlie admonished, "You know how ludicrous that sounds? Why didn't you tell me about the stagecoach before?"
"I didn't see it," I shrieked, "because I watched you die!"
"That is quite enough of that young lady," my Aunt Agatha scolded, "Charles has an incredible opportunity waiting in Denver so do not spoil this for him with your foolishness."
"It's not foolishness," I choked out and threw myself at him, "I won't let you die. I am going to find a way to save you. I'll tell everyone on that stagecoach if I have to."
"You will do no such thing!" Aunt Agatha said in outrage, "You need to know your place."
"Mom please don't," Charlie pleaded softly.
She ignored him and continued, "I am his mother and you are nothing to him little girl. You are old enough to know.… you are a Brandon in name only. Your tart of a mother was already with child when she married William."
Charlie argued with his mother, but I didn't hear a thing. My thoughts raced. It was like there was a hive of bees in my head. Elliot was my father, and I wondered if my mother would have ever told me. So many things finally made sense now. I now knew why the man I'd thought of as my father withheld love from me, and showered my sister with affection.
I suddenly realized that Charlie had known. How long had he known? How could he not tell me? I wondered if he loved me like I loved him? My wishes had come true. He was not my blood. Then the deafening sound of screeching brakes and twisting iron filled my ears. I watched in horror once again as Charlie frantically tried to open the stagecoach door to find it impassable. The only difference this time was that he said, "sorry Alice" a split second before he disappeared in a tidal wave of iron, sand and debris.
"Charlie," I whimpered as I snapped out of my vision.
"I'm here," he said and enveloped me in a hug, and I noticed my Aunt watching us closely.
"I love you," I whispered in his ear, "Please don't leave?"
"I love you too," he sighed, "I have to go."
"I would never lie to you," I sobbed.
"I know," he said and walked away.
He climbed into their Model T, and I watched as they drove away. When they had traveled about one mile, I began to run. The car disappeared from my sight, but I didn't slow down. My vision remained unchanged, but I pressed on. When I reached the station, he was gone. My lungs burned, and my muscles ached. I doubled over and threw up my breakfast. A kind man asked me if I was okay, and I asked him when the Denver stage had left without answering his question. I had missed Charlie by thirty minutes. I thanked him and made my way to a bench.
I considered stealing a motor car and trying to delay the stage, but the vision didn't change. I planned to sabotage the train, but the only thing that changed was the engine. I concluded that it must be something on the tracks that causes the derailment. I considered going down to the depot the day after next to warn them, and the vision got fuzzy. I held onto that tiny piece of hope as I made my way home.
My Aunt and Uncle's Model T sat out front, and there was an older motor buggy I didn't recognize parked behind it. A doctor from the local asylum waited inside for me. I went around back to the rain barrel and splashed water on my face. When I felt I looked presentable, I went inside to face the music. It was easy to tell him what he wanted to hear when we were alone. I said I lied about everything to get him to stay with me. I told the man I felt much remorse and that I would never do it again.
The doctor left, but my Aunt lingered. She voiced her skepticism to my mother, and my mom assured her she would talk to me. She still argued that I should be punished, but she never mentioned any thing about telling me about my true father. I didn't have the heart to tell mom. Because when my Aunt left, my mother's worried eyes made me want to cry. I told my mother everything as she brushed out my long black hair. Her worry became more intense as I told her about my plans to go to the train station to warn them.
My mother begged me to let her go in my place. This type of behavior was expected of me so I refused, but she eventually wore me down. I warned her that there was the possibility that father would be returning the following evening. She paid it no mind as she had a plan. The next thirty two hours were nerve wracking. I tried to hold onto hope, but tears would leak from my eyes at regular intervals. My mother tried to be strong for me, but I could tell she was worried.
My father returned as predicted. He didn't notice or ignored the tense atmosphere of the house. He must have stopped by his brother's home because he would look at me and shake his head. Early the following morning, my mother claimed she was going out to work in the orchard. As soon as she exited out the back door, I descended the stairs intending to follow her.
"Good morning Father," I said brightly but not feeling it, "I am going out to help Mama."
"Do you think me a fool?" he snapped and crossed his arms defensively.
"Pardon?" I asked in surprise.
"Your Aunt Aggie told me all about your foolishness the other day," he said disdainfully, "I have a feeling that you are up to no good this morning. Am I correct in this assumption?"
"Yes sir," I sighed.
"I thought you would have learned your lesson after all the embarrassment with your friend Sarah," he scolded, "You are very lucky I have no clients in this town."
"Yes sir," I said trying to keep my tone respectful.
"Why do you insist on embarrassing this family?" he asked in frustration, "Think of your little sister and how the other children at school tease her."
"Yes sir," I said sadly.
"I know you were going down to the train station," he suddenly barked, "All you would have done was shame me once again. If it weren't for the disgrace of it, I would let you go down there and get arrested. Then you would be their problem."
"Yes sir," I sighed.
"Well you are not going to slip out as soon as I turn my back," he vowed, "Make a batch of sweet bread, and I'll read my paper at the kitchen table."
"Yes sir," I said crestfallen.
He was true to his word. He followed me to the kitchen. After he had me make him a cup of tea, he sat and read while I worked. I tried not to think about my mother, but I kept getting flashes. I was just setting the dough to rise when my sister skipped into the kitchen.
"Morning father. Morning Alice," she chimed, and my blood ran cold, "Where's Mama?"
"Good morning sweetheart," my father said as he continued to read, "Your mother is working in the orchard this morning."
"No," Cynthia said confused, "She saddled Buster and rode off awhile ago."
"Alice!" he roared, "What have you done?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Tears sprung to my sister's eyes as he moved quickly out the back door. His motor carriage roared to life, and I gathered Cynthia into my arms. The engine whined in complaint as he sped away from the house. I tried to comfort my sister, but I was filled with dread.
"I didn't mean to get Mama into trouble," Cynthia sobbed.
"It's not your fault," I soothed as I brushed hair from her face, "This is all my doing. When father returns, I will tell him as much."
"That will only make him more angry," she choked out.
"Yes," I said softly, "But at least it will be at me and not Mama."
"I hope your right," she said doubtfully.
"Me too Sissy," I sighed, "Me too."
It was quite some time before we heard my father's automobile. He didn't trust my mother to ride Buster home so he led the gelding from the car. My mothers eye's were wary, and her face was white as milk. A pang of guilt and regret twisted inside me. My father's words rang in my ears, but I pushed them back.
Thoughts of Charlie reminded me of why we had braved my father's wrath. The grim vision returned and was nearly unchanged. There might have been a few less people on the train, but I couldn't be sure. I wept silently as my father directed my sister to put Buster in the barn. She didn't argue, but it was apparent that she wished to stay.
I perched on the settee with my mother as my father paced in front of us. He fumed but did not say a word. My mother took my hand in hers and stared at the floor. I wondered what my mother was thinking. Did she hate me? As if in answer, she looked at me and smiled.
"I'm so sorry Mama," I whispered.
"Now your sorry?" father screeched, "Now after your mother makes a fool of all of us. When I arrived at the station, she was wailing like a banshee about how they were all going to die. Those people did not warrant being frightened that way. Many of them left when they couldn't comfort their crying children."
"We saved children?" I asked my mother hopefully.
"Yes, at least a dozen," she replied brightening a little, "Their families too. Eight were from one family. German immigrants I thi…"
"Enough!" my father boomed, "This has got to end. No more of this foolishness or I will throw you both out into the street."
"My Papa left this house to me in trust," my mother argued quietly.
A split second before he swung, I saw my father backhand my mother across the face. Without a thought, I leaned in front of her, and I caught the hit just behind my right ear. The ringing began, and my mother yelped into my other ear. My eyes swam out of focus for a moment but came back in the next.
"Alice honey?" my mother said her voice full of worry, "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay Mama," I reassured her as I shook my head.
"Don't you ever lay a hand on my girl again," Mama hissed at my father.
"I meant it for you," he glowered as he gingerly rubbed his hand, "You were being disrespectful and I won't stand for that."
"I did not intend it to be disrespectful," my mother began trying to diffuse the potentially explosive situation, "I didn't want Alice to be in fear of being homeless."
"You coddle her when you should punish her," he said through his teeth, "None of this would have happened if it weren't for her foolishness."
"We were only trying to save your nephew's life," Mama sighed.
"This is the nonsense I am talking about," my father said in frustration, "Charles Junior will be fine. Alice was just trying to keep him from leaving, and you let her draw you into this absurd situation. I expect this from her, but you my dear wife are an adult. You should act accordingly."
"I'm sorry William," Mama resigned and stared at her hands.
"Thank you mouse," he replied kindly as the anger visibly drained from his face, "Can I trust that you will not be involved in anything like this again?"
"Yes," she said softly, "I will not embarrass you in public ever again. You have my word."
"Thank you Catherine," he said and then turned to me, "Alice my dear girl, I apologize for loosing my temper and striking you. Please forgive my moment of weakness? I can see now that anger has only escalated the situation. I know you can not help how you feel so I will try and be more understanding. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"
I sat there confused for several moments. My father smiled at me like he smiled at my sister. My mother's face mirrored my own confused expression. I didn't know what to do. Had I been hit hard enough to cause delusions?
"You're forgiven," I said unsure.
"Oh thank you honey," he exclaimed and picked me up into a hug, "I want things to be different between us from now on. I hope it's not too late to mend what's broken."
"I don't know," I said completely bewildered as I had never heard him speak this way my entire life.
"I know it will take time," my father said kindly as he set me down on my feet, "I am willing to make that commitment. Next time you have one of your feelings sweetheart talk to me about it too. Maybe I can help. I can be pretty savvy when I need to be. We can figure out a way to warn people without bringing so much negative attention to the family."
I looked at his smiling face, and it looked wrong to me. I wanted so much to believe what he was telling me. I wanted a father more than anything else. In the back of my mind, I didn't trust him. He was essentially a salesman so he could very easily put on a false face. I ultimately decided to make my mother's life easier.
"Okay, I will try," I said hesitantly, "May I ask you a question father?"
"Sure," he said happily, "Consider it my first peace offering."
"What would you have done if I had told you about Charlie's train?" I asked truly curious.
"I would have driven him to Denver myself," he said without missing a beat, "Then everyone would have been happy. There are some promising business opportunities there so even I would have benefited."
"Oh," was all I could say as tears filled my eyes.
"Don't cry sweetheart," he said and pulled me into his arms and hugged me again, "Charlie will be fine."
"I hope so father," I choked out, "I have never wanted to be wrong more in my whole life."
"Come here Catherine," he beckoned, and she looked at him curiously.
As soon as she was on her feet, my father gathered her into our embrace. It felt a little strange to stand there that way. Then it really became awkward when Cynthia returned from her chore. She ducked under my father's arm and became the center our peculiar huddle. Father planted a kiss on each of our foreheads, and my sister beamed with happiness.
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Thank you for giving this a read, and I would appreciate a review good or bad. I am working on the next chapter so please let me know if you are interested in reading it.