Crippled Words (A Crutchie Love Story)

Chapter 6: Aunt Caroline

Aunt Caroline stood in front of us. Her parasol was behind her blocking her face from the sun. She looked from Jack to Race to Crutchie to Willa and he eyes stopped on me. I could see the disgust that clouded her vision as she took in the newsies that were standing with us.

                “Good day, Sadie,” she said to me, ignoring everybody else.

                “Aunt Caroline, what are you doing here?” I asked.

                Aunt Caroline was my father’s older sister. He had stopped talking to her awhile back, well she had stopped talking to him was a better explanation for it. Aunt Caroline was a practical woman of high society. To her, image was everything. She had a problem with my father being a doctor for the poor. She thought a man of his title should be caring for only the most elite group of people. My father turned his back on his very rich family in order to pursue his dream of helping the poor. Aunt Caroline had thought it was stupid, so she cut us off completely. That fact that she was back disturbed me in a way I couldn’t explain.

                “I heard of my brother’s passing and had to come,” she said, “I would have expected you to be put in an orphanage by now, my dear.”

                “No, ma’am,” I said, “I’ve been living with Willa and her family. They’re looking for a new place to stay. It shouldn’t take that long, but until then, we’re staying in this hotel.”

                “A hotel and living with an family that hasn’t adopted you? Pity. Plus they let you hang around with the wrong sort of children.”

                “Who ya callin’ the wrong sort?” Jack said.

                “Jack, calm down,” I said, “Aunt Caroline, they’re my friends. They’re just children, not the wrong sort.”

                “Ugh, you sound just like your father. That’s going to be something we’re going to have to work on.”

                “We?”

                “I have come here for one matter and one matter only. Since I am the only living family you have, I plan to take you to Louisiana with me where you will live in my house under my rule.”

                “What? No, I don’t want to go to Louisiana.”

                “My dear, you have no choice. I will discuss it with these people you live with then go to court to finalize the papers. It shall only take me a few days.”

                “Don’t I have any say in this? It’s my life. You can’t just check out of it for years and then come back when something terrible happens.”

                “You will speak to me with respect! And you are a child, not an adult! You don’t get to have a say. Now if you’ll all excuse me.”

                She walked passed us up the stairs and into the building. I glared at her as the door closed behind her. Now I understood why my father hadn’t liked her. She was a menace. A menace determined to turn me into one of her puppets. I wasn’t going to Louisiana with her. It’s not what my father would have wanted and it’s not what I wanted.

                “She can’t take you away,” Willa said.

                “That’s the issue, Willa,” I said, “I think she can if she wants to. She’s right. She’s the only blood relative I have.”

                “This is crazy,” Crutchie said, “We gotta do somethin’ about dis. It ain’t far.”

                “Life isn’t fair, Crutchie.”

                “Ya can’t leave me, Sadie. Ya just can’t. We ain’t even been together for 3 hours and ya already leavin’.”

                I sighed and laid my head on Crutchie’s shoulder. He leaned his head on mine and stroked my hair gently. I didn’t want to leave him. He meant too much to me for me to have to leave him behind. I looked at Willa who was silently playing with her hands. Jack and Race were whispering to each other so low I couldn’t hear them.

                “I wish I could walk,” Crutchie said, “If I could walk, we could run away, ya know? Me and you could run and never look back.”

                “Where would we run, Cruchie?” I said.

                “Somewhere where dey don’t care ‘bout street rats. Somewhere where we could be just who we are witout everybody tellin’ us what we are and what we’re supposed ta be.”

                “Don’t blame it on you not being able to walk, Crutchie. It’s not your fault.”

                I took his hand in mine. It felt warm and reassuring and like home.